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Another “another Hump Day shrapnel post” Post
2023 begins with both whimpers and bangs. And yes, that is what she said.
My prayers go out to Damar Hamlin and his family, friends, and teammates. What many of us saw on Monday night was truly terrifying to watch.
It’s too soon to speculate about what caused the sudden cardiac arrest of a seemingly healthy 24-year-old professional athlete; but it’s not too soon to begin formulating questions based on what little we do know — regardless of how vehemently some very public actors ate trying to prevent certain questions from even being broached.
To intentionally bracket or even smugly dismiss certain questions that would be asked during a differential diagnosis, either because it’s politically inconvenient or potentially paradigm-shattering, is to engage actively in denying science. And when it’s those same people who’ve long claimed to be “following the science” (before any real scientific data was available to them, ironically) who are now demanding no questions be asked, well, that’s what we call a tell: you are dealing with ideologues — and I suspect one day we’ll know just how tightly they controlled the pandemic narrative by political force. In the modern NFL, no one gets drafted without a thorough physical that screens for, among other things, genetic or other heart issues when possible. Commotio cordis — which I suspect we’ll be hearing a lot about — will sound plausible and appease those looking for appeasement. But such a diagnosis has to overcome the entire history of the NFL, including those days before advancements in padding and chest plates. So don’t flinch: it is not only okay to ask questions; it’s necessary and good.
Pop-trans icon Dylan Mulvaney underwent facial feminization surgery over the holidays and is now recovering. Meaning “Days of Girlhood” will likely go on until Dylan either fully transitions, comes to regret his decisions and begins de-transitioning, or remains largely a “socially-transitioned” trans woman, the scientific term for which is “dude in a halter top and pleather skirt mimicking what he can never become.” In Dylan’s case, it’s his choice: he’s an adult who’s been chasing fame for years, and if he’s willing to play his role and his admirers continue supporting him, more power to him. But all that changes when he is meeting with the President and advocating for gender-affirming care in children. At that point, he is no longer just a harmless burlesque; he’s a political activist with gender dysmorphia and depression who presumes to normalize attacks on confused children, and he has the ear of those in power. 2023 will be a pivotal year for the trans activist community, in my opinion, especially as the progressive left and corporate giants double-down on their support for this pseudo-scientific and dangerous ideology that used the Gay Civil Rights movement as a Trojan Horse into which they were able to pack incoherent ideas about “gender” — which in truth are nothing more than lazy postmodernist attempts to attack as mere human constructs the idea that a reality or a truth exist outside and independent of our own rigid and traditionalist desire to claim and then order such things — while opposition grows among parents and the previously apathetic millions of citizens who’ve awakened to what they now recognize as attempts to enforce ideological rigidity, police speech, and reconstitute family through the advent of Glitter fams and, in schools, SEL.
Gear up. This fight is about to get real.
I finally broke down and picked up a 9mm handgun. I figure if things go south and the zombies rise, I’m going to want access to the most popular pistol platform. That way, when I’m pilfering the ammo of those I vanquish and whose villages I conquer, I’ll have something to run it on. Too, the advancement in stopping power in chambered 9mm Luger rounds with the proper defensive ammo — some of which can reach close to 2000 fps out of a full-sized barrel — has make it a bit easier for me to feel comfortable carrying a 9mm subcompact as a concealed weapon. My goal is not to stop someone attacking me or my family; I’ve seen too many slasher movies to take that bet. Instead, my goal is to leave behind mostly mist, so that even in the event of a providential lightning strike that reanimates my tormenter, all I’d need to defeat him in round two is a squeegee and a roll of paper towels.
I keep thinking that the legacy media can’t much longer suppress the Twitter Files. But then I remember that we’re represented in many cases by the Republican Party. And I’m done waiting for their collective balls to drop.
I will say that I’ve been heartened by the band of House conservatives who have thus far denied Kevin McCarthy’s coronation as House Speaker. And I’d like to see them hold out until they 1) receive certain concessions on committee placements and what will be investigated — from the public health agency response to the pandemic to the politicization of federal law enforcement and intelligence agencies to the Biden Family’s potential selling of access, and 2) until Frank Luntz has to try luring McCarthy out of the fetal position with the promise of a new tanning bed, or maybe some super upscale My Pillow sheets.
Even as Elon Musk teases the Fauci Files, many of us who were objectively correct about both viral susceptibility and transmission with respect to Covid and vaccine efficacy — as well as acquired immunity, including studies showing vaccinating on top of acquired immunity increases risk in certain demographics — remain banned from Twitter. If speech is reach, as Musk maintains, his platform continues to deny mine. If you’re so inclined, drop him a note or tag him with this post. Who knows? Maybe he’s got a free minute.
Remember this aphorism, which I came up with after eating an especially spicy chicken wing: “Those who forget the past are doomed to repeat it; while those who erase the past are intent on repeating it.”
Have a happy New Year. And please continue to support this Substack. Right now, it’s the only outlet I have.
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