Convoluted Confession

Congratulations to the nationally renowned and Cincinnati’s locally celebrated drug dealer Molly Wellmann, whose outstanding record of serving toxins to junkies (et al) has earned her the recognition of her peers.

One might prudently hope that former Lieutenant Governor Mary Taylor doesn’t get word of this elevated acclaim. In light of her confession (also in Friday’s Enquirer) that “without real border security [I am] at risk of becoming… drug-addled,” and in light of her long-standing record of interfering in the lives and businesses of strangers, there is a very real danger that Ms Wellmann’s newly found fame my redound to her disadvantage. (Two points about paraphrasing — Ms Taylor said “we.” This was rude. She seems to arrogate to herself the authority to speak on my behalf, as if I shared her inability to make grown-up decisions in the face of pharmaceutical temptation. Because she said “we”, which is a pronoun that ALWAYS includes the speaker, “I” is an apt substitution.)

While we might take comfort from the fact that Ms Taylor is safely out of office, we should heed newly installed Enforcer Mike DeWine when he claims that “it is appropriate to hold accountable those who dispense… drugs that can kill.” Should Ms Wellmann and I (and every other clerk at every other Quikk Stopp along the Interstate) expect to be jacked up by Maleficent Mike’s legions of eager DAs for our contributions to emphysema, bronchitis, cirrhosis, and despair?


Automotive Misbehavior

I admit that the fantastic and preposterous headline on Sunday’s Enquirer (“Cars keep hitting people.”) is a lot more interesting and entertaining than actual (boring) journalism, but still, it strains one’s credulity.

Where are these mythical mechanisms that start themselves, put themselves into gear, and go out on the road and hit people? Are they owned by the same folks whose magic guns load themselves, cock themselves, and “just go off” and “shoot people”? Are there ever any actual people involved in any of this activity?

We’re havin’ a Democrat party!

Well-intended restaurateurs in Tijuana report that the alleged “refugees and asylees” now clustering at our southern border are unappreciative of the efforts made on their behalf to provide food and accommodations, that they complain constantly, and that they generally just mess things up wherever they go.

It’s like they’re ALREADY registered Democrats!

FanBoy Fun

Many of us lately find our congregations on-line.
Or so we hope.

In my pursuit of Legion of Super-Heroes oriented good times I join in on discussion groups composed of similarly minded geeks.
Turns out the discussions are not all geekery.

Someone had posted an illustration called “Dream Boy” featuring an elfinly masculine analog (perhaps) of Legionnaire Dream Girl, or maybe a fellow Naltorian with the same indigenous prognostication power as she. Who knows? Anyway, it was mostly a fine illustration, with maybe a some minor critiques about transparent legs not being a typically Naltorian feature.

Apparently someone had gotten into a bit of a twist over the illo’s vaguely androgynous look, and then someone else got into an even tighter twist over someone calling someone a “deviant” and then calling for the mods or the admins or Mommy or Pop to squelch the heretics for blasphemy, homophobia, apostasy, and transphobia. And I’m only kidding about two of those crimes. So by now I’m wondering, “What happened to the fun and the camaraderie? Aren’t we all deviants on this bus?”

So of course I have to weigh in.
A deviant is that which deviates from the norm.
Norms and their derivatives the deviants are simply mathematical constructs. We expect the norm because it is the most common, and we are sometimes surprised by deviations depending on their rarity.
So what exactly is the problem with “deviant”(a concept that embraces the left-handed in a right-handed population and the lactose intolerant in a lactose digesting population equally)?
There is neither anything exalted about normal nor anything disgraceful about deviation.
I recommend a dose of Trichillin.
(from the makers of Chillax, use only as directed)

And then, just because that was too reasonable, I had to add a little more.
Or remove me for insufficient piling on.

Correspondent JK asserts that I “can’t be that stupid”, without specifying exactly HOW he thinks I’m being stupid. Since I am riddled with doubts I thought it might be prudent to go back and check my math and English. Nah, there’s no need to check my math, or the statistics, as many minorities are abundantly obvious. As for English, Merriam-Webster’s first definition of “deviant” refers to it as an adjective, to describe something that has deviated from the norm — as in deviant results, deviant data, or deviant behavior. The SECOND definition vindicates my usage, as it is a person whose characteristics or behavior deviates from the norm. And still, deviations remain good, bad, OR indifferent, according to circumstances.

Correspondent JM recommends that I depart for the Nether Kingdom, and also possibly to Spoil The Friendly Urchins(?). It’s a little hard to make out through his seething ire. Often it seems that the greatest outrage is that others aren’t outraged enough. I cheerfully reply.
Or simply anger on… as umbrage is so ambrosial… Happy Daze!

Apparently not one to be mollified, JM cuts me deeply with “Quiet down troll,” and goes on to declare (I presume) that I have a “fake profile.” This, somehow, is “very brave” of me. Meanwhile, admins seem to provide JM no succor, just as JM provides no clue as to what aspects of my profile he believes are fraudulent or courageous.

I may have developed too thick a skin after a lifetime of deviation. Sometimes I’m not terribly sensitive to people’s delicate little fuh-fuh-fuh-feeeeelings. Tough. I am a multi-threat deviant myself: anarchist in a statist world, atheist in a mystic world, polyamorist in a monogamist world, and a shameless fan of super-heroic fantasy in a “them funny books is fer kids” world. You don’t think I know from ridicule? The fact is, every one of us who participates on this forum is a deviant.
So what?

Chameleon Boy, Saturn Girl, Phantom Girl, Colossal Boy, Gigi Cusimano, Cosmic Boy, Triplicate Girl (all depicted by Steve Lightle), Shvaugn Erin, and Jan (Element Lad) Arrah (both depicted by Colleen Doran & Al Gordon), are all properties of Detective Comics and Warner Communications.  Their images are reproduced by Piracy Press for purposes of analysis and scholarship.  If anything, their use here constitutes free advertisement for DC‘s properties at the considerable expense of Piracy Press and Greigh Area Associates.

Stories are selected with the greatest of discrimination, but even numbered issues of Daring Love are specifically edited with the prurient interests of atavistic fanboys in mind.  Reader discretion is advised.


Stealth antiFA assassin adjusts white supremacist demographic?

Heroic lefties strike at the heart of Henry Ford’s legacy?
Country music is steeped in white privilege.

For days since the horrific attack in Thousand Oaks, the main stream speculation mill seems to have been uncharacteristically quiet.
Usually by now there would have been lectures about…
Racism… militant Islam… gun culture… mental disease…
This time, so far, not so much. What has been reported has been —
“black clad… masked assailant… smoke bombs… blitz attack…”
The tactics of sucker-punchin’ punks.

Similarities abound and questions remain.

What I do believe is that it is NOT the fault of Bernie Sanders, Donald Trump, Heavy Metal, Reefer, or the NRA.


Saudi Crimes

There has been a great deal of breast-beating and tooth-gnashing lately over the killing of Jamal Khashoggi –admittedly a despicable crime — yet nary a peep over the regular murders of homosexuals, atheists, and apostates by that same House of Saud, nor their continuing holocaust in Yemen.

Are the “outrage-o-meters” of most Americans miscalibrated?
Or is it that Saudi Arabia is “America’s friend?”

But “America” has no friends, because “America,” as a cognitive actor, does not exist. Our occupation government has an agenda, and they have interests, and often the House of Saud and the Israeli Knesset and the British Parliament are aligned with those interests. Often the governments of Iran and Russia and Syria are not aligned with those interests; therefore they are “America’s enemies.”

The previous governments of Iraq and Lybia were not aligned with those interests, and paid heavily for their impudence. Unlike Hussein and Qadafi however, “Pecs” Putin has nukes, which gives our bankster owners pause.

Weights and Measures

Correspondent KM shows astonishing insight into the hearts of her adversaries as she writes that “the goal of English only advocates… [is] to create grounds for discrimination, based on racism,” rather than to promote clarity and cultural comity. Charges of racism have become all too common and all too tedious and all too meaningless of late, yet somehow they retain their pungent arrogant condescension. Or maybe she’s right. Anything to stop the hordes of Danes and Czechs and Letts and Swedes from diluting the rich caramel macchiato that is America today.

While the united States en masse have no official language, many of the individual States exercise their legislative prerogative and recognize English. Hawaii (at least) is officially bilingual. I wouldn’t put a lot of effort into promoting any sort of official action myself. I’d rather have the market cater to my whims than have the state push me around.

As a monolingual Anglophone, I’m naturally more comfortable with and adept at English, but irrespective of that, or of KM’s demerit for playing the race card, there does seem to be Constitutional authority for an official tongue. Congress has authority to establish uniform weights and measures, and language, at its base, is a measure of meaning.

Is “Soy Boy” a slur?

Would it be more polite perhaps to refer to “man-bun” bitches or the femineutered in general as Acosta-farians or The Ansarian Section?

It’s so hard to keep up.

update 181006: correspondent DE suggests that I might wish to be more careful about insulting people. She’s right, of course; the more people dislike the messenger the less receptive they are to the message. I do wish to get the message through, so I must remember how powerful this phenomenon is (id est, a jerk like me can’t possibly have anything interesting to say.)

I’m not very good at backing down or back-pedaling.
I am sorry, and I am also eager to clarify.

Any of the terms I’ve used above have the potential of ruffling the feathers of those committed to seizing offense from out of the hands of teasing fun, but the greatest danger appears to be Acosta-farian.”

It is not my intention to besmirch the gentle Rasta whose sexuality remains unambiguous, nor to impugn those whose kinship to “Gallant Jim” Acosta is strictly accidental. (“In my heart, I know I’m funny.”)

update 181113: “Gentleman Jim” Acosta continues to cover himself in — well… let’s call it “glory” though it smells rather earthier than that. Upon reflection it is clear that at the center of every Acosta story is “Generous Jim“, politely expressing his enquiries and humbly entreating his inquisitees to call upon the fairer sex after his plurality of attention is consumed.


Drug War Casualties

Charlotte Elmore and other sufferers from chronic pain are wise to fear the lethal power of Ohio’s legislature. Though sufferers for generations have managed their pain with opiATEs, cannabis, chamomile, and alcohol. most such benign homegrown remedies have been prohibited by our merciful masters to make way for their sponsors’ artificial and toxic opiOIDs, which inflict further discomfort as they inhibit eliminatory efficacy. Of course, it’s all for the best; years of pharmaceutical industry research has shown that there is no clear link between homegrown remedies and hefty campaign contributions.

Drug dealers like me and my employer have even more cause to fret. If “it is appropriate to hold accountable those who dispense… drugs that can kill,” then should I and every other clerk at every other Quikk Stopp along the Interstate look forward to being jacked up by Mike DeWine’s legions of eager DAs for our contributions to emphysema, cancer, and bronchitis?

Jason’s Fault

Jason Williams, columnist for the Cincinnati Enquirer, claims that he is to blame for our egregious local poverty rate, and so are the rest of us. I endeavor to set him straight.

Mr Williams,

If you truly believe that you are “at fault for Cincinnati’s woeful poverty rate” then I hope you will feel free to enjoy your guilt. When you claim that because you have neglected to give enough you are responsible for the poverty rate, you give yourself too much credit. If we were to distribute your entire income among the indigent of all of Greater Cincinnatistan the difference would barely constitute a ripple.

If your larger point is that neither you nor the rest of us have done enough to help, and that by hectoring us you hope for us all to do more, then you should say as much.

To suggest that you or anyone else who hasn’t helped enough is culpable for poverty is ludicrous and insulting. Ethics are not algebraic. Not succoring is NOT the same as injuring. Otherwise, YOU would be responsible for killing my wife (long passed from complications of diabetes) for not providing the kidneys and pancreas that could have saved her sooner. Well… maybe you and she were poor tissue matches, so you’re off the hook for her. You killed some other innocent stranger instead.

See how twisted that is? I hope you continue to enjoy your ridiculous contrived artificial guilt, and if I can do anything to aggravate the condition let me know.