Grand Theft Under Color of Law

Civil Asset Forfeiture: a procedure by which government thugs can seize the property of citizens who have NOT been convicted of a crime, and especially NOT of any crime in any way associated with the use of that property/asset.

It’s nothing but government-sponsored theft, and those who practice it should

  1. Have their assets seized–all of them
  2. Be horsewhipped through the streets of whatever jurisdiction they committed the theft in
  3. Serve a real life sentence on a chain gang manually making gravel from BIG rocks.

Should, but in our corrupt society, instead they are rewarded with sinecures, jobs protected by a so-called “qualified immunity” that amounts to a functional immunity that is little other than a license to bully, steal, and–if they can get a wink and a nudge–kill.

Anyone have a solution short of bringing such vile, despicable, completely depraved individuals before their Final Judgment? Since the PTB have made self-defense and the defense of one’s property rights unlawful in today’s Amerika *sigh*, I’d very much appreciate someone smarter than me to offer a lawful solution to this kind of rampant brigandage.
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N.B. Apart from “thought crimes” (wishing ill of these evil people), I know of no laws I have broken that would open me up to such brigandage, and nor do I own assets that would make seizing such amount to much more than petty theft, but since these corrupt law enFARCEment looters DGARA about any such thing, I have to assume I could be put out on the street any time some petty bureaucrap wants. *sigh*

One term for what these people do is “anarcho-tyranny.”

Apropos of Nothing in Particular

On another site, I read of a gal’s woes ordering lingerie from Amazon. Seems some bras that were delivered were. . . not exactly as ordered.

Off-the-wall and around the corner. . . and since I don’t wear a bra (*heh*), probably not germane, but. . .

I noticed recently that one of my Wonder Woman’s discarded bras might make a couple of good facemasks, with perhaps some added filtration material. Something to think about? *heh*

Aaaannnd,

Neon colors and psychedelic designs (the aforementioned gal’s complaint). . . Jimmy Durante said it best:

The Joys of Good Grammar

The joys of good grammar include clearer communication, but also include the “joy” of sometimes making an otherwise enjoyable set of lyrics grating to the ear. *heh* For example, John Jacob Niles should be retroactively slapped upside the head for,

I wonder as I wander out under the sky,
How Jesus the Savior did come for to die.
For poor on’ry people like you and like I…
I wonder as I wander out under the sky.

No, “like you and like I” has the pronouns in the objective case position, not subjective case. The often made lame excuse of adding a mental “are” is no better than correcting it to “like you and like me.” In fact, it’s worse, apart from “like you and like me” ruining Niles’s rhyme scheme.

It’s unfortunate that Niles died in 1980, because he really deserves a dope slap for this abomination. I’d offer remediation for this stanza, but then I’d have to fix the rhyme schemes of the other two verses to match, and I’m not quite sure it’d be worth the effort. Of course, that would afford the opportunity to fix the really awkward last line in the second stanza. . .

Nah. I’ll just pass on the whole thing.

Anyone Else Like This?

I have a quirk, I guess one might say. An example might be, I need to have my cooking utensils hung in EXACTLY the right place–the place where I expect them to be. If a spoon I need to stir a soup is hung just two places off from its place, I have a devil of a time finding it, sometimes (OK, oftentimes). I’ve been known to look all through the kitchen for the RIGHT spoon, because not only is it not in its place, but imagining it being in another utensil’s place is just. . . wrong.

I have experienced something similar if someone referred to “The Messiah” (as a musical work). I am–or was for years–prone to ask “Who is that by?” since Handel’s work is “Messiah.” Now, I know every single note of the Spicker score for “Messiah,” but for years “The Messiah” used as reference to that work kinda threw me. *shrugs* Of course, this usually only causes problems with things I know well.

No, I do not fit the loosey-goosey DSM-IV OCD diagnostic criteria.

Please, Make It Stop!

File it under “TMI,” I’m sure.

Son & Heir’s (otherwise _perfect_ pooch) just filled the room with a “gaseous aroma” that is several orders of magnitude worse than a cat dead three days, left out in the sun to rot. After recovery and airing the room out, I’m still almost afraid to breathe. . .

Typical Saturday @ TWC Central™

Read a book blurb. Aloud: “Highballs in the Hamptons? Not interested.”
My Wonder Woman: “You’re not interested in other people’s balls.”
Me: “You really lowballed that one.”
MWW: “If the cup fits. . . “

You Do Not Want to Have This Image in Your Head

Over on FarceBook, one guy posted,

“got a pedicure yesterday. Need to go to XYZ, WV, and do a mineral bath and massage treatment next.”

My teeth are still good enough, but I’m not flexible enough, anymore, to give myself a “pedicure”. . . *heh*

Is It Wrong of Me. . .

. . . that my fav line from Ghost, by John Ringo is,

“Dead bad guys and naked girls. It’s like an op in a titty bar.”

Yeh, there are tons of great lines/scenes in the book, but somehow, that one gets me every time. (And, yes, since confession is good for the soul, I do re-read the first book of the Paladin of Shadows series every now and then. It’s a quick “palate cleanser” *heh*)

One of My Favorite Things

Every now and then, someone has said to me, either humorously or not, that I’m full of shit. I always smile at the patent falsehood. I can’t be “full of shit,” because I seem to have three or four large bowel movements each day.

Each one is a moving experience.