Slimy underbelly #1: Clay Travis

I’m stewing in my own juices here — crippled, homebound, going stir crazy — and one of the things driving me nuts is the state of American media, since I’m stuck watching so much of it. I have noticed that one of the drivers of bad media is these wankers that promote the worst of the underbelly of the country with panel shows, debates, interviews, and far more attention than they deserve, and I could criticize, for example, Piers Morgan, or Joe Rogan, who are constantly dredging up horrible people and propping them up on camera entirely because they have opinions that align with their own ghastly take on the world. I don’t want to waste time on all these horrible people raking in big money by finding equally horrible people to confirm their views.

What I find most appalling are these “experts” who are nothing of the kind, who get paraded about on television for being “authentic,” when they are clearly people prominent for being ignoramuses. I want to take a look at the slimy underbelly, the jumped-up pundits who get prominent airtime for being voices of True America, the dumbasses who are encouraged to express their worthless opinions, and are rewarded with excessive attention in the press.

First up, that extremely punchable face to the right belongs to Clay Travis, a goober I would never have gotten to know if he weren’t being repeatedly consulted as a smart guy on politics. He’s not. He’s a Trump fanatic, through and through.

He’s been frequently quoted for his grading of Trump’s performance.

What is my verdict on the first 100 days of Trump? This is what I voted for. I think if you were arguing, if you voted Trump, and I imagine a lot of you did, some of you did not, that’s fine, if you voted Trump, I can’t imagine you giving him anything other than an A or B. Right? I don’t see C, I don’t see D, I don’t see F.

He never gives specifics — he just gives him an A overall. As someone who professionally grades students on their performance, I am offended. You have to have rubrics and criteria that allow you to judge work, and to give productive guidance on improving it. Travis is a child who thinks a grade is just an arbitrary trophy you hand on someone because you like them.

His “grade” is also indefensible: how can you think a felon who repeatedly tramples on the constitution, who is shredding the social safety net, who is demolishing vital scientific institutions, who wants to destroy public and higher education, is doing good work? A wanna-be autocrat who is arresting and deporting people without due process does not deserve a good grade.

His reasons for supporting Trump are transparently stupid.

“Since we’re talking honestly about politics here, I have a question for you,” McLaughlin said. “My question is, and I want you to be really honest with me here, did you regret voting for Trump after his presidency ended in the January 6th riot?”

“No. I wish I could have voted for Trump ten times in 2020,” Travis replied.

“Really?” McLaughlin reacted.

“I think Joe Biden’s a disaster. And, I think one of the things that’s fascinating, you know, Ronald Reagan said he didn’t leave the Democrat Party. The Democrat Party left him,” Travis said.

Travis went on to explain that the crux of his current political ideology focuses on him being “anti-cancel culture.”

He’s a free speech warrior who supports a man who sues people who criticize him, who uses the power of his office to force conformity, and he doesn’t recognize that he’s a hypocrite. He’s obsessed with Colin Kaepernick, who dared to kneel during the playing of the national anthem at the start of football games, yet now Travis has the gall to claim that he is “anti-cancel culture.”

And now, as a reward, he gets invited to babble on Piers Morgan. He is invited to do an in-person interview with Donald Trump on Airforce One. You might wonder, what are his qualifications to opine on politics or economics or civil rights?

He’s a podcaster.

Nothing wrong with podcasting, but it is not sufficient to make you an authority on pretty much anything. Anyone can get a microphone and start pontificating on the internet.

He’s also sports podcaster, possibly the most useless kind of them all. He has a site called Outkick where he basically makes predictions for sports bettors, leavened with his reactionary takes on politics. Maybe he’s really good at calling the outcomes of football games, I don’t know, but nothing about his profession makes him qualified to talk about much of anything outside sports.

But now, his stupid punchable face and unsupported opinions pop up all the time on the internet.

He’s the kind of negligible, uninteresting slime who happily acts as a useful idiot for conservatives to bounce their bad ideas off of — he’ll just affirm any foolishness, because that’s how he gets paid in money and reputation. The A he gives to Trump is worthless, but audiences will lap it up and ask for more.

That’s our current problem. It’s not just that media will promote bullshit, but that there’s no shortage of people they can find to parrot it, and that the general public lacks the capacity to question anything.

I’m afraid I’ll never run out of these know-nothings to highlight.

Loon sighting confirmed!

I told you that Brian Lauer is an ignorant buffoon, but you shouldn’t trust my opinion alone. Last night, Mark Reid and Dr. Dan worked over the same presentation and came to the same conclusion, so it’s official: Lauer is a kook.

But perhaps you are cautiously skeptical. You need more evidence. You want direct evidence from Lauer himself. Here’s the introduction to a podcast on Real Science Radio (it’s not real science) which is just conspiracy theories stacked on conspiracy theories.

RSR host Fred Williams is joined by Brian Lauer to unravel the World Economic Forum’s “The Great Reset”, a consortium of wealthy and powerful evolutionists looking to use the pandemic as an excuse to push their worldview. On the surface, it’s just another socialist economic plan in a similar vein to FDR’s disastrous New Deal and LBJ’s failed Great Society, but this time it’s driven by the flawed science of materialism and climate change. Like its predecessors, the underlying false assumptions will end up hurting the economy and tearing away at the middle class, further dividing society and fueling class warfare. “The Great Reset” globalists have posted 8 predictions of what the world will look like in 2030 if governments buy into their short-sighted ideas. Better stock up on T-bones now!

But even more sinister are a litany of ideas hidden in the subterfuge of “The Great Reset”, such as biometric surveillance and transhumanism. A key advisor to “The Great Reset” is Yuval Noah Harari, a history professor at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem. While he warns that transhumanism can be pushed too far, such as digital dictatorships with total control over their population, his false worldview steeped in the fake science of materialism leads him to the silly belief that humans are “hackable animals” that can have their total consciousness manipulated such that “free will is over”. For more, check out this brief video Brian found and hear it for yourself! You can also hear more from his talk at a recent creation conference.

I choked and passed out at wealthy and powerful evolutionists, so the rest was just noise.

Where I’m at

Just so know, my wife gave me a present: a wheelchair. It turns out that I was capable of hobbling about with one non-functional knee, but us bipeds are SOL with two blown out knees. I’ve seen spiders nimbly scurrying about with 5 legs completely missing, so this is a gross injustice.

I worked on mastering the chair this morning, and am getting nowhere with it. Our doors are too narrow! I may need to trade up to the combat-ready model, with rocket launchers that can forcefully widen doorways.

Reid v Lauer…again!

Brian Lauer of the Twin Cities Creation Science Association debated Mark Reid on the topic of creation vs. evolution and Reid slapped him down hard. I came on for a second round and tore up Lauer’s arguments further. Now there’s blood in the water: Mark Reid is coming back to mutilate the corpse yet further on Wednesday evening.

This should be fun. I’ll be watching and making comments in the chat. Join in! Maybe Lauer will show up to defend himself, adding to the hilarity.

The real WWII experience

Yesterday, I was looking forward to visiting a local airshow. I made it. I was disappointed.

It was not the fault of the airshow organizers, or the collection of planes they had on view. The problems were entirely due to the godawful weather we’ve had lately.

I left home at about 7:30, under dark gloomy skies, driving rain, and non-stop thunderbolts arcing across the sky, a most inauspicious morning, but it’s been like that sporadically for a couple of weeks. We get these horrendous storms that last for a few hours, and then they burn off and we get clear skies, so that’s what I anticipated. The drive was stormy, but the roads were empty, I saw only one other car the entire hour and a half I was on the road. That wasn’t a problem.

Once I got to the airport, though, I discovered that the whole show was delayed for two hours, which made sense. Visibility was only about a mile, the rain was pounding down hard, I wouldn’t want to fly in that weather, and as a spectator I wouldn’t be able to see anything anyway. So I turned around and went back to Granite Falls to nurse a coffee for a while.

When I went back, I encountered a new problem: no parking. There was a large empty field that was supposed to be used as a parking lot for the event, but this is what it looked like:

It was swamp with ambitions, trying to become a lake. This fit with what I’d heard on the drive — I was getting constant warnings of flash flood conditions, and saw rivers running over their banks, and fields that were underwater. So no convenient parking.

The organizers improvised. What they had us do is drive out on these gravel access roads and park on the edge…which meant that all the visitors were strung out in a long line from the airport to distant points. I did that. I had to park a mile and a half from the airshow and walk in.

I’ve mentioned that this was my summer of knee problems. I did not invest enough in my energy budget for a hike, nor was I prepared for the maintenance and repair costs of keeping shank’s mare running smoothly for a long walk. I did it anyway. I was stupid. The result: another blown out knee, and I’m going to be paying for this exercise for the next few weeks. Fortunately, when it was time to leave, they had local police and neighbors volunteering to drive golf carts up and down that road — I got delivered directly to my car, which was good, because otherwise I might have been a crying cripple laid up in a drainage ditch.

Finally, I’m at the airfield, there’s a selection of planes all lined up, getting fueled. The first set are about 8 Navy fighters/bombers/torpedo planes (ooh, look at that lovely Corsair), and they’re getting ready to taxi out to the runway. I was up close — I was standing right under the wingtip of a Helldiver as it was firing up it’s engine. It was loud, it reeked of fuel vapors, I could feel the vibrations in my bones. It was the highlight of the day for me.

Unfortunately, what followed was not so exciting. Three planes taxied out to the end of the runway, a Dauntless, an Avenger, and a Helldiver, and prepared to take off, when Minnesota weather struck again. One of them got stuck in the mud. It was a major anti-climax, because instead of planes, we then spent an hour watching forklifts hauling stacks of plywood to try and give them a firm surface to be dragged onto.

It was OK! I wandered around the hangars instead, where they had iconic aircraft on display.

They did eventually get some planes aloft, but at that point my knee was whimpering, and I decided the best thing to do was go home and stop making it work.

Despite the weather-related glitches, this was a good airshow. I’m going to come back next year when the fields have all dried out, there’s convenient parking, and runways that haven’t turned to glue. I did come away with an appreciation of the struggles the ground crews had to have gone through to keep planes and runways operational. My father-in-law was a bad ass Marine sniper in the Pacific theater, while my grandfather spent the war driving bulldozers and building runways on remote islands — much respect to both of them.

PS. One thing I was concerned about was that this was a celebration of military technology, and I was afraid I’d get there and be surrounded by a sea of red MAGA hats. I was not. I didn’t see a single red hat the whole time. I did see a lot of old veterans, though — maybe a celebration of a triumph over fascism scared away the Nazi wanna-bes from showing up.

You may have heard about Minnesota winters…

I’m going to be passing through Clontarf today, and I’ve long wondered about that strikingly Irish name in a region settled by Scandinavian and German settlers. There has to be a story behind that, and I found out what it was. The Catholic Church had shipped over a lot of Irish people to live in Minnesota, creating what were called the Connemaras (after the region in Ireland they came from), surprising them by settling them in new small towns in the western prairies. The experiment did not work.

The history of this community can be traced to the arrival of a sizeable group of immigrants from the Connemara area of Ireland. They had been persuaded to come to Minnesota in the 1880’s by Archbishop John Ireland and were initially located on farms in the western part of the state. For a variety of reasons, the experiment was a failure and many of the settlers came to St. Paul and settled along the banks of Phalen Creek between Third and Seventh Streets below Dayton’s Bluff.

So Clontarf is a relic of brief Irish colony in my part of the state. Then I was left wondering about that “variety of reasons” that led them to fall back from this region to the big city of St Paul.

I learned about the winter of 1880-1881 from a compilation of newspaper articles published in Morris at that time.

I was surprised (but shouldn’t have been) at how dependent the towns out here were on the railroad — I knew that these were all railroad towns, and even that Morris was named after some minor executive at the railroad company, but in the 19th century those rails were the lifeline for all these communities. Winters were rough, some more so than others, and it was predictable that the Catholic Church had provided poorly for the Irish. It’s a shame that the railroad is so poorly maintained now, and only freight is carried on it now, and not always successfully — we had a train derailment a few weeks ago.

Let’s all look forward to a Minnesota winter!

Airshow today!

I’m driving to Granite Falls, MN this morning. It’s only about an hour SSE of Morris, so I’ll still be in the middle of nowhere in west central Minnesota. A while back, though, I was searching for local museums and discovered this one: the Fagen Fighters WWII Museum. I was surprised. This looks like a big deal with all kinds of old US aircraft from the the 1940s, and many of them still fly. I’ve been planning to visit it all summer long, but those plans got wrecked by a torn meniscus that limited my mobility — I’m feeling much better now, so I think can handle walking around some hangars and watching airplanes fly by. My brother and I used to bicycle out to local airports all the time just to watch private planes buzz by, so this is going to bring back memories.

I’ve been to the Air and Space Museum in Washington DC, as well as the Boeing Museum of Flight in Seattle, and while this museum is a bit smaller than those, tomorrow is special: they’re celebrating the 250th anniversary of the US Navy & Marine Corps, so an additional assortment of aircraft are flying in. How can I resist? I want to see a P38 Lightning, an F4U Corsair, and an F6F Hellcat. Eighty year old airplanes still flying!

Tickets are still available, so if you’re a Minnesotan interested in this sort of thing, maybe I’ll see you there.

Imagine finding a 10 foot long sausage

And deciding to try starting at one end and eating the whole thing. This is the bold jumper, Phidippus audax, that I’m raising in the lab (I’ve got 6 different species of spider thriving there), and I gave her a large mealworm which did not intimidate her in the least — she’s bold, remember. This is a pattern with her. She starts eating a big mealworm, and gets full halfway through, and I’ll have to clean up half-eaten corpses in a couple of day.

(I know, not a great photo, but it was shot through some dirty plexiglas so that’s as clean as I could get it.)

Don’t try to tell me this isn’t cosmic horror

Rabbits in Colorado are being found with these horrifying growths on their bodies.

The scientists have an explanation: the rabbits are infected with a papilloma virus.

The cottontails recently spotted in Fort Collins are infected with the mostly harmless Shope papillomavirus, which causes wart-like growths that protrude from their faces like metastasizing horns.

Viral photos have inspired a fluffle of unflattering nicknames, including “Frankenstein bunnies,” “demon rabbits” and “zombie rabbits.” But their affliction is nothing new, with the virus inspiring ancient folklore and fueling scientific research nearly 100 years ago.

Yeah, right. It’s a coverup. The truth is that the rabbits were nosing around in a blasted heath, and…

They had uncovered what seemed to be the side of a large coloured globule imbedded in the substance. The colour, which resembled some of the bands in the meteor’s strange spectrum, was almost impossible to describe; and it was only by analogy that they called it colour at all. Its texture was glossy, and upon tapping it appeared to promise both brittleness and hollowness. One of the professors gave it a smart blow with a hammer, and it burst with a nervous little pop. Nothing was emitted, and all trace of the thing vanished with the puncturing. It left behind a hollow spherical space about three inches across, and all thought it probable that others would be discovered as the enclosing substance wasted away.

Run away!