A Conspiracy of Incompetence?

 

A Conspiracy of Incompetence?

 

On July 6, it was announced that Donald Trump would hold a rally in Butler Pa.  That would give a 20-year-old probably depressed loner kid 7 days to plan an assassination.

This kid (baby by today’s standards) lived an hour away.  Did he know the area where Trump would appear?  Did he know what buildings or high points would be available to assume a shooting position?  Did he have any idea that such a spot would not be covered by secret service?

Highly unlikely.  More than unlikely, outrageously unlikely.

Did this kid make that hour trip and do surveillance of the site days before?

How did this kid get anywhere near the rally carrying a rifle?

How did he manage to climb onto the roof unnoticed with a rifle?  This kid was not an athlete, I don’t see him shinning up a drainpipe with a rifle over his shoulder and not being suspicious.

Apparently, there was a ladder nearby.  Oh, that makes…WAIT WHAT? So not only was this vantage point for a kill shot not monitored closely, there was a ladder left for easy access!

I am not suspicious of any organized or planned conspiracy to murder Ex-President Trump, but clearly there was mass incompetence somewhere down the security line.

Was it pure incompetence, or was it passive incompetence because some “lone wolf” security person or group decided,

“Hey, if he’s shot, he’s shot!” and practiced extreme relaxed due-diligence.

Did this kid just show up early, see the roof with a direct line, and plant a rifle ahead of time.  (I believe he was seen wandering around the grounds sans gun) Did he then use the ladder and climb the roof to shoot Trump? 

Was it simply a crime or opportunity?

Did this kid think, “Let me show up with a rifle and if somehow I get a chance to kill Trump, I’m going to go for it.”

What did he have to lose, clearly this was a “suicide by cop” scenario.

The only thing more amazing than the shot missing it’s mark, is that the shot was allowed to made in the first place.

I wonder if we will get any real answers. 

Grassy knoll?  Move on, nothing to see here.

 

PLEASE STEP DOWN!

 

PLEASE STEP DOWN!

In the I interest of my own sanity I have temporarily removed the “no politics” clause to this blog.

Joe Biden needs to step down.  No argument, no discussion, no more lying to the public, we all know what we have seen and it is more than concerning. 

Much of the world is worried, much of the world is laughing, and our enemies are sure to be extra embolden.

Just step down before it is too late. 

Not because you may lose, but because you still might win!

It is not too late to step down and allow a reasonable patriotic more middle of the road candidate who is completely in control of his faculties, to take your place.  

It is not too much to ask that the leader of our country not be a doddering old man, one who 26 years ago went through two extensive brain surgeries, one who in his best days many, many years ago was determined to be unqualified for the position he now holds and seeks for four more years.

Will the man we have seen protected by his handlers and much of the media for the last three years and who was fully exposed the other night improve in the next few years?

NO WAY IN HELL!!

It is not too late to run a new candidate.  As much as I dislike her, Hillary would be acceptable.

My choice?  I am not a Democrat, but since you asked, head for New Jersey.

Senator Cory Booker has leaned left for political expedience, but deep down he is a highly intelligent, caring, and a motivated public servant.

My second choice is New Jersey Governor Murphy, also highly intelligent reasonable and an empathetic man.

Most of the names I have seen thrown around are not my Republican cup of tea, but at least they are all capable of rational decision making and leading.  

Joe Biden is not.  

You know it, I know it, and for God sake, someone please tell Joe!

 

 

DINNER WITH FOGHORN LEGHORN

 

DINNER WITH FOGHORN LEGHORN

For those too young to remember, or too intellectual to watch a cartoon, Foghorn Leghorn was a cartoon rooster with a very loud booming cartoon voice.

Last night, Mrs. C and I went to dinner with her sister (who picked up the tab thank you very much) at a fancy seashore restaurant. 

Fancy being you needed a reservation, and a collared shirt.

The food is always excellent, the prices not too unreasonable and the atmosphere relaxing and inviting.  We look forward to at least one night there when we are enjoying our time at the Jersey Shore.

Did I say the atmosphere was relaxing?  Well, most of the time, but not when you are dining next to a table where the conversation is dominated by Foghorn Leghorn.

Obnoxiously loud and content driven to demonstrate how wealthy, important, and fascinating he is.

“I say, when we were supping in Cambodia the most delightful event happened.  We were served pompow, I say pompow and I asked, I say son, what in tarnation is pompow, and he says it is chicken.  I say son, I say in my area of this big globe we call chicken chicken!”

I whispered to Mrs. C,

“Is that clown with the incredibly boring story as big an asshole as he sounds?”

“Pretty big…asshole, not in stature.”

“Could I kick his ass?” (Even at 78 years old most men judge other men in two categories, I could kick his ass, or I could not kick his ass…I know)

“Yes.”

I took that as an OK to be loud myself.

“SO, AS I WAS SAYING, THE OTHER DAY WHEN DRIVING MY BIG ASS BMW, I WAS STOPPED BY A COP FOR SPEEDING, I ASKED THE COP, DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM? HE SAID NO SIR, AND I SAID…”

“Stop it, you’re too loud and that never happened!”

“I SAID SON, I SAY I’M THE ONE WHO PAYS YOUR SALARY AND YOU DESERVE A RAISE!  HE SAYS HAVE A NICE DAY SIR AND SLOW DOWN A BIT.  YOU SEE YOU JUST HAVE TO KNOW HOW TO TALK TO PEOPLE!!”

Ok I’m not that big a jerk, I only raised my voice a little to make a point, and Mrs. C quickly shushed me.

Unfortunately, Foghorn’s wife was not as concerned for other diners.  It was all we could do to have any conversation of our own.

I did quietly imitate the jerk a little and we managed a good laugh to drown out the bore so we did still have a nice time.

 

What is the proper etiquette for dealing with a loudmouth bore at a restaurant?