Author Richard Cahill's Website--Living By Our Motto:"There Are No Stupid Questions, Just Stupid People Asking Questions Everybody else already knows the answer to."

​With Republicans thinking they have a sure win coming their way in November, and planning on institutionalizing white supremacy via Project 2025, some of you may wonder when white supremacy became a concept at all.
 
The answer is, surprisingly, not so long ago. Civilization was invented by the Chinese, the Egyptians, the Sumerians, etc., none of whom were white. All of these early civilizations probably thought they were cooler and more badass than anybody else, like all arbitrary collections of humans usually do, from tribes to neighborhoods to military units to Philadelphia Eagles fans, and they would have laughed at the idea that they were inferior to whites, who at the time were living in smelly lean-tos in Europe, having pointed stick fights with each other and occasionally providing snack food for wolves and bears.
 
The Greeks became the first white people to take a stab at civilization. They invented science, drama, philosophy and long, boring epic poems. They took sculpture to new heights, although they apparently thought only men with small penises were worthy models for their statues. Finally, they picked up a rookie warrior from the minor leagues of Macedonia to spread their civilization all over the world. There is no evidence that Alexander the Great thought much about white supremacy, though. He did, however, have sex with animals, which white supremacists today are not officially in favor of but which many of the people that vote for them are said to practice.
 
It fell to the Romans to be the next hot white thing, and they did the job proud, ruling their patch of the world for 800 years by wearing skirts and toilet brushes on their helmets and using their short swords to chop up anybody who laughed at their wardrobes. They butchered the white people of Gaul and the swarthy folks of Carthage equally, however, so playing the race card to a Roman legion did not result in you not getting slaughtered, or even being left in more generous bits.
 
The Roman Empire finally fell, and the ancestors of today’s white supremacists celebrated by becoming peasants under the yoke of the Catholic Church, burning heretics and having plagues. They eventually got into religious warfare, which had been invented by the Jews and perfected by the Muslims, but which white people went at with great enthusiasm. This caused them to develop better weapons than anybody else. When they got tired of fighting people equally well-armed, they said to themselves, “Hey—let’s try out some of these muskets and galleons on those people that Chris Columbus just discovered.” They went to the Americas and found that cannons and steel swords worked great against spears and obsidian axes. Then they discovered that you could easily convert the locals to Christianity at gunpoint, and then they would be happy to build cathedrals for your bishops. The first inklings of white supremacy were stirred.
 
In no country was the concept of white supremacy received more enthusiastically than in a boggy island in the North Atlantic called Britain. This nation of pale alcoholics went off to conquer the world and, between beer breaks, succeeded at most of it, including many parts of it that had been pre-conquered by other white people. They had trouble only with a breakaway bit in North America that eventually turned itself from a hodgepodge of querulous states to become the greatest nation on Earth. White supremacists were happy to go along for the ride. One of their major achievements was to raise the bar for whitehood extremely high—at one point in the US, such obvious pale people as the Irish and the Poles were written off as non-white. Likewise, those Greeks and the descendants of the Romans were derided as inferior. Popular feelings ran high against non-Anglos, and campaigns were organized to keep them out of the country. These didn’t succeed, as the growing nation needed these people to do manual labor and later on, fight in World Wars.
 
Today, white supremacy is far more sophisticated in the US. The Irish and the Poles can become white supremacists themselves. In this ongoing spirit of tolerance, the Greeks and the Italians have been let back into the white club, too, especially when right -wing media talking heads want to chirp about Western Civilization, which they regularly do when they want to badmouth Mexicans.
 
Funny thing is, though, without western civilization, we wouldn’t have Mexicans at all.

​The State of Louisiana, apparently being too full of whiskey and gumbo to notice how poorly other states fared fucking with the First Amendment, has made it a law that all publicly-funded classrooms in the state have to post a copy of the Ten Commandments on their walls.
 
Jeff Landry, the Governor of the state, explained that the law was necessary because “Moses was the original lawgiver.”
 
This is not true, of course. The original lawgiver’s name is lost in prehistory, but you can bet he was a big guy with big muscles, big friends and a big stick. When he gave a law, your cave ass obeyed it.
 
But we’re not here to talk history. We’re here to talk competition, and the first competition is what’s going to go up on the wall next to the Ten when the suing gets done. You might think that Muslims and Jews will be happy with the Ten Commandments being required reading in Louisiana for tykes and teenagers alike, since Moses was a Jew and Islam happily stole his Commandments just like the Christians did, but anyone with even a modicum of acquaintance with religious history knows that Christians, Muslims and Jews being happy at the same time about the same thing has never, ever happened.
 
The Muslims are going to want the Five Pillars of Islam up there, too. Also, probably Sharia Law. Landry and most other Louisianans would rather shit out a live possum than see this happen, but they opened this can of crawdads.
 
The Jews, having had thousands of years longer than either Christians or Muslims to fine tune their Commandment game, actually have 613 Commandments. This is because Jews want their religion to be more miserable and demanding than any other, which, oddly enough, makes them happy with it. Going to take some fine print, though, to get 613 Commandments on a ten by fourteen piece of parchment, which is the minimum size the Louisiana Commandments can be, by law.
 
The Church of Satan is going to want in on this action, for sure. Oklahoma already found this out the hard way, and After-School Satan Clubs are a thing everywhere school districts have tried to institute after school Christianity. Satan has Eleven Rules of the Earth, according to this web site. Number 11 is, and I am not making this up, although someone obviously did, is When walking in open territory, bother no one. If someone bothers you, ask him to stop. If he does not stop, destroy him.
 
If we all become Satanists, the college football bowl season is going to get way more interesting.
 
Other, faiths, less numerous perhaps, but no less sincere, are going to want a piece of the Louisiana schoolroom wall pie. Dudeists will want, “This aggression will not stand, man,” on their poster, and due to its terse nature, they’ll get it in big print. The Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster’s Commandments are lightly worded as well, although there are a few, my favorite of which is "Thou shalt have no other Monsters before Me (Afterwards is OK; just use protection)."

Atheists are out of luck, as usual. You can't put "This is all bullshit" on a third grade classroom wall, so they'll have to settle for a blank piece of paper, I guess, or else a simple, declarative, "There is no God."

Hopefully, some cynical schoolchild will graffiti "There is no Santa Claus, either," on top of it.

In this afflicted world, torn by war, ravaged by climate change, bursting always with fresh diseases and disasters, a ray of hope shone from my flat-screen last night, and I will share it with all of you so you won’t succumb to hopelessness over the fate of humanity.
 
Mountain Monsters IS BACK ON THE AIR! Just reruns, of course, but now you can view six seasons of Mountain Monsters on Max. I first discovered this series back in 2015. This "reality" (described as such by Wikipedia) show follows a band of backwoods bumblers as they attempt to catch the mythical creatures of Appalachia, mostly Bigfeet, but including werewolves, lizard demons and Mothman. They travel the spine of the mountains, from Georgia to Pennsylvania, seeking every episode to bag creatures that don’t exist.
 
The viewer can only watch in awe. Questions arise in his or her mind, questions like, “Are these guys for real?” and, because the monster hunters are uniformly big men, “Haven’t they heard of Ozempic yet?” The five of them must total at least fifteen hundred pounds, the better to outweigh any Sasquatch they meet. The biggest of them, Buck, is often videoed wallowing fearlessly into the woods, wearing a pair of jeans an entire refugee family could fit inside. The rest of them range in size from merely pot-bellied to extra chonk.
 
Every episode begins with the team interviewing a local resident of the holler who has Bigfoot problems like Steve Bannon has grooming issues. His name is Bobo, Ferk or Tuckle, or something along those lines. He shows them a footprint, a scratch on a tree, or a fuzzy picture, evidence of an unkown critter's  lair being nearby. Inevitably, Ferk says something like, “I been livin’ in these here yonder back woods my whole life, and I ain’t never seen nothing like that.”
 
The Monster hunters nod sagely, even though they look like they have been living at the pie counter at Dell’s Diner their whole lives, and agree, “That ain’t no bear/wolf/coyote/hairy escaped convict. That’s a Big-Horned Bigfoot, or Bat-Winged Goose Gobbler, or a Vampire Turkey Vulture,” and promptly set out to capture it.
 
Willy, the “Trap Builder,” has to build a new trap out of discarded auto parts. A new trap is always necessary, because all the old traps didn’t catch a thing. The rest of the crew roam around the woods, proudly displaying all the technology, like infrared scopes, night vision goggles and video cameras, that they’ve learned to use, even though they probably went to elementary school barefoot. They pile into a four-wheel ATV, which, because of the well-fed nature of the team, always looks like it’s going to tip over even when it’s standing still.
 
In Episode II, the team is after the “Devil Dog,” a giant canine killer, roaming the hills of some podunk county. They are using the term “Devil Dog,” completely devoid of irony, despite the fact that Devil Dogs were a nasty, last century snack cake that might actually still be available in some stale corner of a 7-11 somewhere in America, unless Buck has eaten them all. This time the trap catches something, but it turns out to be just a couple of local dogs. The Devil Dog herself, described as an “alpha white female weighing over two hundred pounds,” has eluded our heroes.
 
In my observation of this show, the boys stick to Eastern monsters. We who live in The West can choose to be insulted by this, since we have plenty of Sasquatchi of our own, roaming wild from the Rockies to the Cascades to the Sierras, that probably need trapping, but I don’t want to criticize the monster hunters for not being willing to wedge themselves into an airline seat and fly out here. They are all exactly the kind of guys that make you freeze in horror when you see them lumbering down the aisle and you have an empty seat next to you on the plane.
 
There’s lots of shots of the guys blanching in fear at some rustlings in a corncrib that might be Bigfoot picking his enormous toenails, and plenty of wild hallooings from the darkest corner of the woods, at which the Mountain Men cringe, and invariably say, “Whut was that?” They come across piles of bones picked cleaned, supposedly by foul creatures, and vile footprints along soggy bottoms, which make the boys question the wisdom of continuing the pursuit, but which the cynical among us might suspect were planted there by the show’s producers.
 
Apparently, there were further seasons of Mountain Monsters after these six, but they are on Roky or Dinghu or some streaming service I don’t want to find or pronounce correctly. I already have Max, though, and if you’re lucky, you do too. Grab a snack and tune in. Make that snack biscuits and gravy. Now you’ve got the spirit.

It’s June, and that means that social media is filling up with memes that depict Satan as gay, or at least in rainbow colors. The Evil One is not amused. He popped up on my computer screen again.
 
“You know I hate Teams,” I told him.
 
“And you know we’re an all-Microsoft workplace now. Makes the afterlife a little more Hellish, and it will really motivate my imps to go to town on Bill Gates when he finally shows up here. I’m here to say that I DID NOT start Pride Month.
 
Never even dreamed you did.
 
“Well, plenty of people think so. Come on! What’s my motivation for that? It’s caused me no end of trouble.”
 
“How’s that?
 
“Well, you always hear the Other Guy bragging about how perfect He is, and I’m letting you know He can be perfectly sneaky. You should have heard Him chortling, “Ha, ha ha. Did you hear about Pride Month yet? It’s a thing now, and Pride is one of the seven deadly sins, so now they’re all yours. You’ll like it. Some of them are pretty funny.’ Then he shoved all the gay souls over to the Gates of Hell. My front porch.”
 
“Oh no, you don’t,” I said, but I was left with a bunch of lost gay souls, standing out front because I don’t do group passes. I had to ask for arbitration….”
 
Who does arbitration in the afterlife?
 
“Solomon, natch. He just split them, 50-50. He’s kind of a one-trick pony that way. I had to accept his decision.”
 
But why don’t you want gays in Hell?
 
“I don’t want anybody in Hell! It’s Hell trying to keep Hell hot enough now. You should see my gas bill. I see one more condemned soul, I’m going to scream! The Other Side feels the same way. ‘In My Father’s House, there are many mansions’ isn’t the current real estate situation there. First floor, one bedroom condo is all you get if you get past the Pearlies now, is what I hear, and you can park your chariot on the street."
 
But Jesus said that thing about mansions.
 
“Don’t bring that Guy’s name up around here. This is all His fault, for refusing to put the Second Coming on His calendar. He’s got a bucket of excuses, mostly about production values for the Apocalypse. ‘The sky full of thunderbolts didn’t crackle loud enough in rehearsal.’ ‘That’s not a blood moon, it’s more of an umber moon.’ “Can’t anyone count the heads on a dragon anymore? It supposed to be seven.’ Then He bolts off for another three-day weekend with his side chick, Joan of Arc.”
 
Wow, that’s some inside stuff. How do you know so much about what goes on in Heaven?
 
“I back-channel with the Holy Ghost. Dude is sick of being the low Divine Being on the totem pool, so He keeps me up to date.”
 
But you’re still locked in eternal conflict with the Almighty, right?  I mean, your whole business model is built on bad feelings.
 
“I guess. The whole Eden thing seems so long ago, although I still do turn into a snake once in a while, just so I can bite Rush Limbaugh on the ass. Neither He nor me brings up the Garden anymore. Now we mostly fight about who is going to have to take the latest batch of souls for all eternity. Got to go. I see a bunch of war criminals headed my way.”
 
And you’ve got to take them, right?
 
“Only if they’re not gay. I’m keeping my fingers crossed.”

From hate to incompetence to potential treason, personal vendetta and back again, the Frito-Faced Felon whipsawed the nation through four years of what-for-God’s-sake is he going to do/say/be accused of next? Then he lost his bid for re-election and has been lying about it ceaselessly ever since.
 
It is apparent, by most polls, that nearly a majority of Americans miss those days.
 
Biden just journeyed to France, where he paid tribute to the fallen of D-Day. He used words like sacrifice, honor and courage--things that a President is expected to say—and reminded America of the debt we owe those heroes.
 
Of course, that’s boring. We don’t like thinking about that, so we do for maybe three seconds and then go back to bitching about the price of cheeseburgers.
 
When Trump went to Normandy during his years in office, his behavior was much more entertaining. He called the war dead “suckers and losers,” in front of his Chief of Staff. He told the President of France that his wife had a great ass. He refused to go to one ceremony because it was raining and he was afraid it would fuck up his hair.
 
Biden doesn’t worry about his hair being fucked-up. He’s 81. All 81-year-olds have fucked up hair. That’s reality. A lot of us don’t approve of reality. We want a reality show. So, we’re thinking we want Trump back, because Biden is just a regular President, like all the Presidents before Trump. He doesn’t pick public fights with celebrities. He releases his tax returns. His relatives don’t work in the White House. He doesn’t award the seal of Presidential approval to Nazis, racists, the Proud Oafs, or blithering tin-hatters on the Internet. He doesn’t make fun of Rosie O’Donnell’s weight or mock people with birth defects. He doesn’t have a mail-order bride that obviously loathes him. Biden’s wife can only say “500 dollars, you pay now,” in one, or maybe two languages, tops, instead of six.
 
Where’s the fun in that?
 
Whereas, if the Cantaloupe Convict gets back in the Oval, it’s all hell breaking loose the minute he finishes lying about protecting the Constitution with his hand on one of his own sixty-buck Bibles. Ordering Ex-President’s Biden’s Secret Service detail to arrest him? Making Alex Jones Secretary of State? Replacing the Joint Chiefs of Staff with the guys that run the WWE Smackdown? Forbidding Door Dash to deliver to Chris Christie?
 
The Mango Miscreant may do all this, or just mutter about doing it, and that will just be in the first week of his zombie Presidency. Either way is fine. It’ll be just like watching a fail compilation on YouTube, except they don’t last four years.
 
All because Biden is boring. Poor Sleepy Joe.  He’s wide awake.  He just makes us yawn.

* Sorry about that asterisk...FB's been a little weird to me lately