Category: Parody

White House Insider Scoop: The Economic Plan

“Television? My God! If they could market that in pill form, Switzerland would be plunged into a recession.” – Absolutely Fabulous

“Old McDonald had a farm . . .” sang the cheerful repo man.

Note:  there’s some meta content at the end on recent site issues at the end of all this.  Apologies for any issues.  I know that the subscriber stuff didn’t work on Monday, but I have faith it will today.  If you’re not a subscriber, I suggest you tempt fate and subscribe in the box over there to the right . . . .

This past week in the economics side of the world there has been a recent dust-up.  The generally accepted definition of a recession is that there are two consecutive quarters of economic contraction.  I’m not sure exactly how they measure that, but I assume it’s by throwing a bunch of chicken wing bones from the Buffalo Burnin’ Hot® Pizza Hut™ wings into the air and seeing if they fall in a pattern that is pleasing to Gorto, god of the Great Charts of Giza.

Or maybe not.  That sounds pretty high-tech for an economist, since it might involve higher economics like counting.

But at least it’s more scientific than how economists judge if there is a recession or not.

Regardless, the White House has suggested that the same definition that’s been used since, oh, I was knee high to Farrah Fawcett-Majors (which wasn’t bad, I’m thinking) is no longer operative.  Nope.  Now (according to Wikipedia®) recessions only occur when the National Bureau of Economic Research©, a privately held group, says so.

When will they say it’s so?

Probably years after the recession has occurred, and probably then only if it’s something the Left want’s to see.

Winston Smith would be proud.

I can’t help, though, wondering what the conversation was like in the White House when they discussed the horrible economic data that showed there was a recession, or at least what would have been called a recession in every year every except for 2022.

I hear homeless horses never get married.  It just isn’t a stable relationship.

Joe Biden (BIDEN):  “I’m really glad you all could join me this wharngm *cough* smaglerpump.  Anyone have a steak?  Oh, wait, can’t eat ‘em.  Gets stuck the dentures, you see *wet phlegmy cough*.”

Biden takes dentures out to show group.

Kamala Harris (HARRIS):  “Wow!  I could have used that trick!”

Secretary of Treasury, Janet Yellen (YELLEN):  “Mr. President . . . .”

BIDEN:  “Oh, is Barry back?  I think I’m sitting in his chair.”  Jill Biden (DR. JILL) kicks BIDEN.

BIDEN:  “Ow!  What??”

YELLEN:  “Pardon me, uh, Joe.  The recent economic data had come back, and it’s not good.  From a technical standpoint, and primarily due to our plan, er, bad luck, er, Putin, we’re showing that the economy of the United States is contracting.”

It could be worse.  Gas could be really expensive.  Oh, wait.

BIDEN:  “Does that mean the baby is close?  I think I’m hoping for another boy.  I’d like to name one Hunter.  What a pure and noble name.  No way a man with such a strong name would become a degenerate dissolute drug addict who hires ladies-of-the-night.”

YELLEN:  “What?”

BIDEN:  “Whores, we used to call ‘em.  Street-walkers.  Strumpets.  *Long series of coughs.*  You know, loose women?”  Pause.  “I mean that.  Do you know any loose women?”

YELLEN:  “Pardon me, Mr., um, Joe.  What I’m trying to tell you is that the economy is a mess.  Prices are shooting through the roof, and where we once saw labor shortages due to paying people to not work, now we’re seeing companies starting to lay off people, and demand dropping.  Not at all good.  It’s what we economists technically call a recession.”

BIDEN:  “Recession?  What will President Carter say about that when he gets back from Camp David?  That’s no good at all.  We simply can’t have a recession.  We need ideas, people!”

Secretary of State, Antony Blinken (BLINKEN):  “Heh heh, we could send that crazy witch Nancy Pelosi to Taiwan.  That would distract people.  Heck, maybe no one would notice that the price of gasoline requires them to ‘donate’ a kidney to get a fill-up.”

Joe wanted Hunter to slow down on his cocaine habit – he said, that Hunter had to draw a line somewhere.

Secretary of Defense, Lloyd Austin (AUSTIN):  “Great idea!  We could send over some aircraft carriers.  We’ve got dozens of those.  Really pump up the tension.”

Secretary of Homeland Security, Alejandro Mayorkas (MAYORKAS):  “And import Nicaraguans.  Perhaps sixty million of them.  They don’t vote.”

Secretary of Transportation, Pete Buttigieg (BUTTIGIEG):  “Dr. Jill, what are the first symptoms of monkeypox again?”

DR. JILL: “Pete, I’m not that kind of doctor. I’m the kind of doctor that people have to call “doctor” because I insist they do.”

BUTTIGIEG:  “Oh, what was your thesis title?”

DR. JILL: “Student Retention at the Community College: Meeting Students’ Needs.”  (J.W. note:  this is really the title.)

Vanilla Ice is both more vanilla and more ice than Jill Biden is a doctor.

ALL, except BIDEN, who looks confused:  Laughter.

BIDEN, looking at DR. JILL:  “Missy, are you new here?  I could use a sandwich.  But nothing too tough.  Dentures.  See?”  Pulls them out to show her.

ALL, except BIDEN, who looks confused:  Laughter.

DR. JILL exits.

BIDEN:  “Well, now it’s just us guys.  Anyone want to watch a porno?  My son Hunter,” long pause “sent me this one.  Shared it to me on FacePlant®.”

YELLEN and HARRIS glance at each other.

BIDEN:  “So, what’s the plan?  I mean we have this regression, I mean digression, er, um, digestion.”

YELLEN:  “Mr. Pr . . . er, Joe, it’s a recession.”

BIDEN:  Agitated.  “No, it’s not!  It’s not a recession until Obama says it’s a recession!”

All look at each other in stunned silence.

YELLEN:  “That’s perfect.  We pretend we’re not in a recession.  Just say it isn’t one.”

All nod, except Biden, who is staring vacantly toward the ceiling at a point near the opposite corner.

Chief of Staff Ron Klain (KLAIN):  “It’s decided.  I’ll mobilize the usual folks.  CNN®, the New York Times™, the Washington Post©, and oh, yeah, I’ll mobilize our trolls.  Let’s put the old definitions down the memory hole.  Start with Reddit® and Wikipedia™.  In a couple of weeks, let’s see if we can’t have Twitter© ban anyone using the r-word.”

Meeting adjourns.  BIDEN remains seated, looking uncomfortable.

BIDEN:  “I was told there would be ice cream.”

Now, the meta content.  On Monday, I normally get a copy of the post delivered to my inbox for a couple of reasons:  the first is to show that the software worked.  Since it’s worked nearly 800 times, I was surprised it didn’t.  The second is to make sure the content showed up.

On Monday, that didn’t happen.  Why?  I’m still not sure.  I went to the website and saw that the website itself was down.  Why?  Still not sure.  It turns out that I’ve been fighting the hosting company of the site for the better part of four calls (over three hours of time) and it seemed like everything they did made things worse.

I think it’s all working now, though.  Let me know if the RSS or any other component isn’t working.

Biden’s Economic Case For Nuclear War

“Two hundred years have passed since the nuclear war raged to an end and the computers took over what was left of the world – sealed it off from the outside – and made it perfect. Now, in the Domed City in this year 2319, living is unending joy.” – Logan’s Run

After a nuclear war in the Middle East, there will only be one country and the Persian Gulf left.  Just Kuwait and sea.

When we lived in Fairbanks, my hobby in the summer was getting firewood.  I was the Bubba (from Forrest Gump) of firewood:  “There’s lots of ways to have birch.  There’s split birch, there’s dry birch, there’s stacked birch, there’s birch that the bark fell off of, there’s birch that still has bark, there’s wet birch, there’s birch logs . . .” you get the idea.  Now imagine that James Spader was saying it.  That will become important later.

As such, we spent a lot of time in the (mostly Gump-free) forest.  The Mrs. would generally keep an eye on the (then four-year-old) The Boy.  Outside of moose and grizzly bear, the forest was safe.  Oh, did I mention the wasps?  Yeah.  Fairbanks was infested with them.  So, one day while I was knocking down trees and sawing them up, The Boy was playing near a tree.

What’s Gump’s password?  1FORREST1. (meme as found)

Then The Boy started screaming.  If you noticed the clear foreshadowing, it certainly wasn’t a bear or a moose, but rather The Boy had been jumping up and down (unknowingly) on a subterranean wasp nest.

Wasps have a sense of humor.  Oh, no, they don’t.  They’re hatred wrapped up in spite with a side order of malice and animosity.  So, they did the only thing their stupid malignant minds can comprehend:  they stung The Boy.  Repeatedly.

Fast forward a few months.  We had abandoned all of that sweet, sweet birch that we were going to combust in order to liberate the carbon back into the atmosphere and move from Fairbanks to Houston.  Ugh.  In the backyard, though, a beautiful butterfly came fluttering by bouncing from flower to flower.

I could see the wonder and amazement in The Boy’s eyes as he tracked it across the backyard.  He moved close.

“Be careful,” I said, “they bite!”

He ran screaming into the house, and now I had a four-year-old son that was deathly afraid of butterflies and also the problem of explaining to The Mrs. how I was really just kidding and not intentionally emotionally scarring our child.

Good times.

I sleep on a cushion made of butterfly larva.  It’s a caterpillow.

“What,” you might ask, “does that story have to do with nuclear war?  I can read the title, John Wilder, and I didn’t come here for twisted tales of how you made a child cry by telling him that butterflies sting.”

Well, bear with me.

What if . . . nuclear war is not so bad?  What if nuclear war is Joe Biden’s cunning plan to revive our economy?

I mean, giving trillions of dollars just seemed to work for a while, and now everyone’s tired of having all that free money.  Giving billions to the vaxx companies so that they could, um, prevent oops, lessen the likelihood the vaxxed got COVID oops, lessen the impact of COVID oops, make billions of dollars in profits.

The Mrs. says that Jack Daniels® keeps her healthy.  She calls it Liver Cross-Fit®.

The next best idea that Biden had, besides eating crayons and attempting to have sex with his desk was just more of the “print trillions of dollars” idea.  That didn’t go as well once people figured out they weren’t the ones getting the money, and they had to trade internal organs for a tank of gasoline.

Giving billions of dollars to Ukraine seemed safe, but outside of asking for more money, Zelinsky’s prime impact on the war effort in Ukraine appears to be walking around sweaty in an olive drab t-shirt while looking for escorts with Hunter Biden.

Huh.  That doesn’t seem to be working.

So, how about provoking a nuclear war?  I can just imagine the conversation with the cabinet . . . .

Secretary of Defense Lloyd Austin (SECDEF):  “Are you sure, Mr. President?  Don’t you think that giving Ukraine, and I quote, ‘a whole bejeebus load of guns and stuff’ might provoke the Russians?”

Vice President Kamala Harris (VP):  (unintelligible giggling, possibly drunk)

Secretary of State Antony Blinken (STATE):  “I’d like to remind you, Mr. President, there are a lot of Ukrainians that we’ve got left.  I mean, the Russians have to run out of artillery shells at some point.”

Joseph R. Biden (BRANDON):  “But, hey, man, have you thought this through?  If we bomb the Russians, and they bomb us, we can (long pause) you know the thing.  Build better boobies.” (waves hands while looking uncomprehendingly at imaginary people behind him)

Vice President Kamala Harris (VP):  (giggling)  “You said boobies!  Check out this rack!” (lifts blouse)

Monica Lewinsky is 48!  It seems just like yesterday that she was crawling all over the White House.

Secretary of the Treasury Janet Yellen (TREAS):  (ignoring VP)  “He has a point.  Think of all the industrial activity we would get if a nuclear war hit the United States.  Look at (checks notes) Japan.  We nuked them twice, and look how their economy skyrocketed!”

Joseph R. Biden (BRANDON):  “Yeah, man, he has a good point.  Is it a good point?  Who has the good point?”

Secretary of the Treasury Janet Yellen (TREAS):  “You, sir.”

Vice President Kamala Harris (VP):  (giggling)  “So, it’s settled!  Margaritas for everyone!  This has been a long, hard day, if you know what I mean.” (winking at Yellen)

Secretary of Defense Lloyd Austin (SECDEF):  “Sounds great!  I’m in.  Just one more thing to do before I call it a day!”  (picks up phone to call NORAD)  “Brandon has authorized Operation McChicken™, repeat, Brandon has authorized Operation McChicken©, authorization code “PEZ BRAVO JOHNNY DEPP.”  (hangs up phone)  “Now where’s that margarita?”

So, if it appears that that the Biden Administration is being run by people who have all of the competence of Bulgarian mall lawyers attempting to fix a seventeen-year-old copier by poking and prodding it with whatever pens and paperclips their greasy fingers can find hoping against hope that their random actions will fix whatever “ERROR 031” is?

No.  The Bulgarian mall lawyers, though only dimly aware that their random actions are little more effective than hitting the machine with a hammer while chanting Sheryl Crow songs in the nude, at least were bright enough to not vote for Biden.

So, perhaps like that butterfly, nuclear war won’t be so bad?  Despite how good Biden makes it sound, I’ll take my chances without having a nuclear war, thank you.

As found.

I’d love to write more, but I’m watching a movie with James Spader and it requires all of my attention because he might be Jack the Ripper.

The New Episode Is Up: Watch It Because It’s Funnier A Biden Press Conference (Also: Readers Write!)

Beers Win More And More Games – Baseketball

The move to take over all of the media in the world continues – the latest episode of Bombs and Bants is up!  Watch it because you like cheesy animation.  Watch it because our sponsor is that PARODY dating service – PreppersOnly.com, and only here can you find 43 Seconds Inside The Head of AOC.

In this episode we talk about what the Pentagon thinks of aliens, the city versus rural divide, and we look at democide.

I had promised that I’d post a link when The Boy got Bombs and Bants up on other formats, and here it is (Bombs And Bants) for Bitchute, Apple podcasts, and Odysee.

Okay, Baseketball still makes me laugh.

Also, from reader/listener Tar, a wise update on unusual places to find things after society collapses:

“One thought re: those “obscure supply locations” that the article didn’t cover, but you may be interested in.

Public Pool facilities and pool supply shops.  They usually keep a bunch of chlorine on site at pools to keep the pool clean – that can be used to purify drinking water if you know what you’re doing with the concentrations.  Probably also bulk charcoal for water filtration, if not filter equipment and media.  Also, they always keep a medical kit on site, and some even have the packs to shock people in cardiac arrest.  Suppliers will often have all of the above.
Garden Centers can also be helpful  – they’ll have not just supplies for growing stuff (a bottle or two of rooting hormone will be helpful in multiplying food production if you have growing space) but they generally stock tools that can make good melee weapons in a pinch.  Pretty much anything sharp on a pole is superior to knives and such  – wood axes are unwieldy but forks and shovels are good.  Also, when the shooting starts, digging holes gets important.  Get picks and hand-cultivators in addition to shovels for such work.
Welding supply stores may be useful early on, especially if they have dry ice on stock (10 pounds of dry ice in the bottom of a cooler under a bag of regular ice will keep the ice frozen (and anything else in there) for at least two days (and maybe 3-4 if it’s storing already-frozen stuff).  They’ll often have oxygen and acetylene tanks for torches, as well, and of course the tools and gear for actual welding and metal-cutting if you want to make Mad Max vehicles when you get to your retreat in the wasteland.”
Thank you, Tar!

A New Podcast? Watch It Because It’s Even Better This Week.

I told you that the podcast would keep getting better, and it is.  I’m betting that by summertime we’ll have reached a singularity of funny that might swallow YouTube whole.  In addition to our normal batch of helpful stories and hilarious banter, we have:

  • A commercial for the Canadian Tourism Board, eh, and
  • The first-ever episode of Mister Government’s Neighborhood
  • Bitchute?  We have it. (Bombs And Bants)
  • Apple podcasts?  We have it. (Bombs And Bants)
  • Odysee?  Whatever that is, we have it. (Bombs And Bants)

Open Thread For Debate Liveblog, Plus A Prediction Of How It Will Go

“I would not presume to debate you.” – Star Trek II:  Wrath of (Prose and) Khan(s)

Clothing optional.  No, I really don’t want to know.  Really, I don’t.

It’s 2020, and the first debate, so let’s have a little fun with it.  Starting tomorrow at the beginning of the debate, you’re invited to a live debate party.  If you’re here on Wednesday morning, this counts as the Wednesday morning post.

Where?  Here.  On this post, right in the comment section.  Just be here when the debate starts and refresh the page every so often, and comment away!  No ID required and no cover charge, but there is a two-drink minimum.

The Mrs. has tentatively agreed to join in and may even be interested in having some wine during the festivities, so you can expect my stuff to be extra good.  The rules are fairly simple.  Join in, and comment as we roast marshmallows on the bonfire of Western civilization.  The funnier the better, but do please try to keep it PG-13 and don’t make me edit out stuff.

Because I will.

How do I think the debate will go?

Probably something like this:

Chris Wallace:  Good evening.  Per the rules that both of you approved, Vice President Biden will be allowed to occasionally bellow out the names of people that are dead, but that he thinks are still alive.  President Trump will be allowed to yell two words with strange emphasis whenever they pop into his head. 

The first question is for you, Vice President Biden.  How do you like doing soothing things, like painting?  Do you like other art projects?

Vice President Biden:  C’mon man!  I remember back when I worked in the chimichanga factory back in Delaware while running drugs for the Juarez Cartel.  This poor little girl, who was just as smart as a white girl, would want to touch the golden fuzz on my neck, right here . . . .

President Trump:  HUN-tEr CrackHEAD.

Vice President Biden:  Well, Fat, I was in the Senate back in 1840, and let me tell you that Henry Calhoun wouldn’t have had crack, because Lincoln didn’t invent that thing, you know, the toy . . .

Chris Wallace:  Lincoln Logs®?

President Trump:  UkraiNIAN corrupTION.

Vice President Biden:  C’mon, it was back when I had my first Buick.  It was a 1953, I think, bought it from John Travolta back when he was a ghost-man.  You know about the ghost-men, right?  Only come at night, crawl up your leg, leave a hell of a mess?

Chris Wallace:  Thank you Vice President Biden.  President Trump, can you explain how the 1963 IRS laws concerning tax treatment of hotel properties in Barbados after an earthquake are impacting Russian-Chinese relations?

President Trump:  Yes.  You see, HUN-tEr Bi-DEN was very sad in his dealings with his brother’s ex-wife – you know he married her, yes?  And then HUN-tEr had some sort of stripper baby.  Very sad.  Very disrespectful.

Vice President Biden:  Marlena Dietrich!  Is she here tonight?

President Trump (to Biden):  You work for me.

Vice President Biden:  What?  No, I don’t.  I quit that job.  C’mon.  Want me to bust you in the chops behind the gym?  I’ll show you who knows how to do pushups because . . . you know the thing.  I’ve gone on too long.  God bless Ruth Vader Gilbert and Sullivan.  Helluva Broadway show, let tell you that.  Full of sparkly toasters and ham.

President Trump:  You see?  Lock him up.

Or maybe it won’t go like that.  It’s 2020.  All bets are off.  I’d suggest a drinking game based upon Joe Biden saying “C’mon”, losing his place, visibly showing the signs of a meth overdose or brain aneurism or saying two hundred thousand.  One drink for each ad hominin attack on Trump.

For Trump, you’d take a drink every time he says two words and pauses, nodding knowingly, uses the word “Hunter”, uses the word Chin-a, or insults Joe directly with a “Sleepy Joe” or “Chinese Joe” type insult.

Finish your glass if Joe Biden suggests pushups.  Finish the bottle if Joe does a pushup or tries to physically attack Trump or his adult diaper leaks.  Also finish the bottle if anyone from CNN says anything other than, “decisive victory” for Biden.

See you at the debate!

Dear Diary: Ocasio-Cortez talks about being moist

WilderAnon, or WAnon transmitted this information to me tonight which explains this first-ever Tuesday post.  How he got it from the future is beyond me – something about a paradox whereby I avoid all legal liability.  I’m liking that.  To read about QAnon go here (LINK).  I have no idea if WAnon represents a Deep State operative of the NSA with a time machine or the voices in my head.

house web

January 3, 2019, 11:03 EST

Dear Diary,

It’s nice that I have a place to share my secrets and intermoist, er innermost thoughts.    Ha ha ha, I wrote moist.  Must be me thinking about Marco again (blush).

When I started moving my stuff in today, I was pretty excited.  Then they told me that what I thought was my office was just the coat closet.  I sure wish I was stuck in that closet with Marco!  I sat in my pretend coat closet office in the corner for about two hours until my staff found me.  They seemed really excited.  It was nice to get out of that office because there isn’t a light in there, but I didn’t want to complain because I didn’t want to get fired on my first day.

Ever wonder what you would do if you were in a dark closet for two hours?  I licked the walls, like anyone would.  They were pine, but they tasted like salt.  I sniffed the carpet, and it was surprisingly odor free, except for one corner.  I played with my eyebrow.  Oh, eyebrows since the electrolysis worked to remove the middle part and I now look less like a dwarf from Lord of the Rings and more like Liv Tyler.

My real office is big and has a nice desk, and there’s a brand-new laptop there.  I asked my staff where I’m supposed to clock in so I get paid, and they explained to me that I didn’t have to clock in.  Honor system, I guess.  I’m not sure how I’m going to get overtime if I don’t clock in.  Maybe there’s a timesheet.  There’s a nice couch in my office, too.  It makes me think of Marco and his broad shoulders and spending time with him on that couch.  And that makes me blush!

I looked in my desk and found that they already had stickers, multi-colored erasers, gel pens, and the latest episode of Tiger Beat® ready for me.  But I also have this new laptop.  Somebody from IT set me up on this computer, and said that they had even set up a place for me to share my thoughts, and gave me a link to this diary.  ZOMG!  So excited!

tiger

I have 10 people on staff, and they asked me where I want them to be.  Well, after the one who gets me Sour Patch Kids®, the one who picks up my dry cleaning, and the one who gets me latte, I’m not sure what I want the others to do.  Maybe write plays about how power corrupts?

I am so glad that I brought up the fact that, in addition to being Spanish, Puerto Rican, and Native American I am also Jewish.  I’m thinking of playing up that aspect in my next campaign, because who doesn’t love the Jews?  I am biding my time to when I will announce that I’m also descended from interstellar visitors from Ceti Alpha 3, and a previously unknown race of sentient cats, and I am their kitten.  If only I was in a relationship with someone who was gay, I would be the queen of intersectionality!

My new apartment is nice.  I got there last night and moved in my futon and my clothes.  My milk crates and planks are a great bookcase for my Karl Marx Swimsuit edition coloring book.  Heat is free with the apartment, so last night I turned up the heat to 80 and walked around wearing only my Uggs®, while listening to Ariana Grande while sipping a pumpkin-spice latte.  I then spent some time plucking my mustache.  Marco says that if I don’t, I look like Fidel Castro.

Oh, Marco.  I can’t stop thinking about him and his flowing brown hair, and his strong, muscular arms . . . Marco, Marco, Marco.  I asked him to move down here to Washington with me, but he turned me down.  He said that his life was in New York.  It bothers me that I can’t get Marco out of my mind, since he’s never even kissed me.  Sure, we go shopping together, he has such great taste.  And he helped me decorate my apartment, too.  Now I just walk around my new apartment naked and spend time eating Cocoa Puffs® – Mom isn’t here to tell me I can’t!  I’ll sit here, naked, eating Cocoa Puffs©, plucking myself, and thinking about Marco.

Well, Dear Diary, I’ll hit save and go wander around for a bit.  Honestly, I’m feeling a bit . . . restless after thinking about Marco.  I needz moar pumpkin latte!

January 3, 2019, 3:03 EST

Dear Diary,

Well that was a surprise!  My staff came running into the office about twenty minutes after I left you and told me that my Diary was going out to everyone on the Internet.  Silly staff.  I had to explain to them that there was no way it was going out to the Internet, since it was on my computer, right here.  I showed them, and everything, but I don’t think they understood.  They just walked out half an hour later shaking their heads.  I’m not sure that they’ve ever had someone as smart as me in office, maybe I need to explain it more slowly to them that if I can see it on *my* screen, it’s not on the Internet.

Some people are so slow.

Oh, I’ve been working on writing my first piece of legislation.  It’s about medical care.  Each person deserves their own doctor, and if my legislation passes, each person will have their own, individual doctor.  Someone who is concerned only with their health.  My legislative staff laughed, because they said we would need 300,000,000 doctors if my plan passed.  Well, if it’s the law, we’ll have 300,000,000 doctors!  You can’t break the law!

Another one said that President Poopyhead would veto it.  I told them I was too smart for that, because in the bill I’d put a clause that said he couldn’t.  They shook their heads.  I think they’re surprised no one ever thought of that before.

I think that I’ll call Marco to celebrate!  I imagine he’s home by now.  He shares his apartment with his best friend, Chad.  They must be close – they only have that one bed that they share.

I miss Marco.

To regular readers:  this is an experiment and depending on how it works this won’t replace any existing content, but will become a feature in addition to the existing content.  We’ll see.  Don’t forget, you can subscribe by putting your email in the box up there.  I will never share (unless congress subpoenas it) or spam it.

Picture of Cortez via Wikimedia, by El Borde [CC BY 3.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0)]