Wingnuttery category archive
The Bundy Bund have discovered that jail is restricted. A snippet from the story at TPM:
Specifically Ryan says lack of access to talk with Ammon Bundy violates his freedom of assembly. He also argues that his Second Amendment rights have been violated, presumably because guns are not allowed in jails.
Yeah, Bundy wants his gundy back.
Apparently, the Bundy Bund believed that they could take over a Federal Nature Preserve, trash the premises, terrorize the town, and just walk away, Renee, or ride off into the sunset, or something else ending in “get off scot free.”
These fellows must think that John Wayne movies are historical documents, much as the aliens in Galaxy Quest believed in Star Trek.
After I went for a bike ride wearing gym shorts and a light sweatshirt yesterday, I drove to the recycling center with my windows down.
Not in SoCal.
And it’s not just one fluke of a day. It’s a pattern.
Even granting that weather is not climate, the two are intimately intertwined.
Buried in a larger story about how the court told the members of the Bundy Bund currently in custody, “No, you don’t get to walk away, Rene,” is this bit (emphasis added):
A speaker believed to be David Fry said he asked the FBI whether it was possible to “get out of here without charges,” but “they keep saying that’s not possible.”
I think that this expectation–that they are somehow exempt from consequences for theft and terrorism–conveys much about the bubble that these folks have built for themselves.
Leonard Pitts, Jr, asks, “What if you throw a tantrum and no one seems to care?“
Over at Northjersey-dot-com, Jonathan Zimmerman suggests the gunnuttery is really not about guns, that, instead, guns are proxy for something else (and, no, he doesn’t mean penises).
Just read it.
(Horrifying grammatical error corrected.)
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.
Every time I think it can’t get any crazier, it does.
Has anyone noticed the creepy similarity between Chris Christie’s proposal to barcode brown people and certain events involving tattoos and triangles in the second quarter of the 20th Century?
Back in the olden days, when I was a young ‘un and the interstate highway was still a dream, we would occasionally get caught behind an Army convoy on two lane roads.
It would seem endless, but it was but a blip compared to the cavalcade of crazy in Texas.