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August 29, 2020

Saturday Overnight Open Thread – 8/29/2020 [Buck Throckmorton]

Grain Elevator Sunset.JPG



The act of performatively wearing a mask at the behest of public officials reminds me of adults I knew during my childhood who wore “W.I.N.” pins. (Actually, Miklos mentioned WIN pins in last Saturday’s ONT thread, causing me to remember them.) President Ford encouraged people to wear those pins, which would somehow cause inflation to stop ravaging the economy. That sounds weird, of course, but there were public policy experts who said this would help, and if you can’t trust public policy experts, just who can you trust?

Mask up.JPG

Whip Inflation Now.jpg



“The urge to save humanity is almost always only a false-face for the urge to rule it.” – H.L. Mencken

Global Warming and the Wuhan Virus weren’t around in Mencken’s day, but the totalitarian cures for the panics of his era are the same as ever.



Now that Weird Dave is a Yee-Haw-ing Texan, we should expect that he'll latch on to those hand-clapping boot-stomping odes to the Lone Star state. From “Deep In The Heart Of Texas” to “Texas When I Die” there’s a huge library of songs that proud Texans are raised on. I love ‘em all, of course, but much of America rolls its eyes at them. And of course, any excess brings parodies, so there are also some great songs that parody those boastful songs about Texas.

Slaid Cleaves had some regional airplay with his “Texas Love Song”, a.k.a. “I Love You Even More Than I Love Texas”

You’re the barb on my wire
The spark in my campfire
There’s no brighter star in all the multiplexes
I love this state, you know I do
But the best thing in this state is you
I love you even more than I love Texas

Your wit’s as sharp as a prickly pear
The sun shines in your golden hair
Your smile hits me right in the solar plexus
Skin as soft as early morning rain
Temper like a gulf coast hurricane
I love you even more than I love Texas

The Austin Lounge Lizards are a band of goofy lefties from the pre-PC days when lefties were allowed to have fun. Their stupid song about Texas is titled, appropriately enough, “Stupid Texas Song” and it is a darn good parody. Here are some of the clever lyrics.

Texas is a big state, north to south and east to west
Alaska doesn't really count, we're bigger than the rest
You can waltz across it, though, so grab your yellow rose
And sing another song of Texas, this is how it goes

One more stupid song about Texas
Just 'cause we're braggin', that don't mean it's wrong
Biggest hats and biggest hearts, biggest various body parts
Let's sing another stupid Texas song
Toss your hats into the air, we're obnoxious, we don't care
Let's sing another stupid Texas song



This story is more than 2 years old, but the Smug Grub fad had been going on for a long time before that, and it’s still going strong. If customers want to pay a premium to hear that they are purchasing sustainable, organic, locally sourced, farm-to-table victuals, then restaurants will satisfy that demand. The food may be not be what they claim it is, but the actual product they’re selling is sanctimony.

Local and organic food claims face new crackdowns

Polk County hog farmer Jim Wood is used to hearing that his premium Hereford pork is on the menu at Central Florida restaurants. The problem is that Wood doesn’t sell to many of these restaurants, and neither do his distributors. “People love to put my pigs on the menu even if they aren’t serving my pork,” said Wood, owner of Palmetto Creek Farms in Avon Park.
In October, Dexter’s restaurant in Winter Park received a violation during a health inspection for claiming on the menu that a sandwich contained locally grown pork. The restaurant couldn’t prove the claims with invoices, so the inspector called the distributor, Lake Meadow Natural Farms in Ocoee, to verify. Lake Meadows told the inspector the pork was from Wisconsin.



“Sh%t Southern Women Say In A Hurricane”


(h/t – despair.com)

Motivation - Fragility.JPG



August 16 was the 100th anniversary of Major League Baseball’s last fatal beaning. Carl Mays of the New York Yankees threw the pitch that proved fatal to Cleveland Indians batter Ray Chapman.

He was a solid hitter, but had never had much luck at bat against Mays. Chapman took his usual stance, crouching and crowding the plate. A fog had settled over the field, making the afternoon even darker. Mays wound up and let loose with one of his high and tight pitches, and Chapman didn’t move an inch. In a split second, a loud crack echoed around the Polo Grounds. The ball trickled toward the mound, and Mays quickly fielded it, tossing it to first for what he thought was the first out of the inning. But Chapman had sunk to a knee in the batter’s box, his eyes closed and his mouth open.

100 years later, Major League Baseball threw an America-bashing temper tantrum that killed off a significant portion of its fan support.



On former Prime Minister Ramsay McDonald: “He’s a sheep in sheep’s clothing.”

Responding to President Truman’s comment that Clement Atlee seemed to be a modest fellow: “He has a lot to be modest about.”

Regarding Neville Chamberlain’s policy of appeasement: “Each one hopes that if he feeds the crocodile enough, the crocodile will eat him last. All of them hope that the storm will pass before their turn comes to be devoured.”

Regarding Charles De Gaulle: “What can you do with a man who looks like a female llama surprised when bathing?“

More on Ramsay McDonald: “We know that he has, more than any other man, the gift of compressing the largest amount of words into the smallest amount of thought.“

And of course, his retort when Bessie Braddock accused him of being drunk: “My dear, you are ugly, but tomorrow I shall be sober and you will still be ugly.“



Carob Shake.jpg

How Carob Traumatized A Generation

A wry disgruntlement will forever unite those of us who were children during the height of the nineteen-seventies natural-foods movement. It was a time that we recall not for its principles—yes to organics, no to preservatives—but for its endless assaults on our tender young palates. There was brown rice that scoured our molars as we chewed, shedding gritty flecks of bran. There was watery homemade yogurt that resisted all attempts to mitigate its tartness. And, at the pinnacle of our dietary suffering, worse even than sprout sandwiches or fruit leather or whole-wheat scones, there was carob, the chocolate substitute that never could.

Any memorable health food fads that were inflicted upon you in your childhood?



The sleaziest Finance Manager at the sleaziest Used Car dealer looks saintly in comparison to the hustlers pushing debt on to teenagers in college Financial Aid offices.



The difference between humorless Social Justice Warriors and “normals” is what they do with their free time. SJWs incessantly profess their outrage and assign mandatory reading materials to anyone who hasn’t completely tuned them out. Normals, on the other hand, seek to enjoy life to the fullest, even if it’s standing on a beach at the Florida-Alabama state line, trying to throw a dead fish as far as possible from Florida into Alabama.

The Flora-Bama Interstate Mullet Toss is one of those crazy things that makes me proud to be an American. What are some of the weirdest competitions you’ve engaged in?



Don’t forget to take your Geritol.



Cats always land on their feet. Buttered bread always lands butter-side down. So what happens if you fasten buttered bread to a cat’s back (buttered side up) and drop the cat? Obviously, it just rotates above the ground without ever landing. You’ve created perpetual motion, which means infinite energy. This is no more nonsensical than relying on wind for energy, plus it doesn’t commit mass murder against raptors.

Buttered Cat.PNG



Alison Krauss has made a few changes in style and appearance since she took bluegrass by storm three decades ago. It’s all good, but those early songs are really something special.

“Too Late To Cry”

“Two Highways”

“On Heaven’s Bright Shore”


Tonight’s overnight thread has been brought to you by anatomically correct musical washboards.

Anatomically Correct Musical Washboard - No Face.jpg


Thanks again to the horde for letting me play host. Please feel free to offer any helpful feedback, insults, or tips at buck.throckmorton@gmail.com

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