On This Date…

Notorious Hate Gobliness Phyllis Schlafly shuffled off this mortal coil in 2016, but we’re sure where’er she’s got to, she’s applauding a man, Greg Abbott, and Texas for realizing her fondest dream of oppressing the skirts everywhere.

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17 Responses to On This Date…

  1. David H Lippman says:

    Talk about self-hatred…Phyllis Schlafly defined that.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. MDavis says:

    All I know about Aunt Lydia is the that she’s from the Handmaid’s Tale and she’s fur it, but I’m pretty sure the character was based on Phyllis.

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    • David H Lippman says:

      “The Handmaid’s Tale” is not an allegorical piece of dystopian science fiction. It is the world we are moving into at a high rate of speed.

      Humanity and our planet are being endangered by Climate Change, which our misogynistic males deny in the name of profits and power, and that will lead to even greater ecological disasters. COVID is whacking the American population. And I don’t believe for one moment that Trump and the Proud Boys are finished with us for a minute. Once the “pussy-grabber-in-chief” and his “shamans” are back, we will have a perfect kakistocracy.

      Scares the heck out of me.

      Liked by 1 person

      • MDavis says:

        Sometimes I think that COVID is Mother Nature’s Raid for the pests that are overpopulating her environs.
        Then I go pet a cat or something to distract myself because that might be correct.

        Liked by 1 person

      • David H Lippman says:

        I’ve had people tell me that about AIDS, too, which infuriated me, given that comment’s racism and homophobia.

        Then I would pet my cat or dog or play with m snake for the same reason.

        Liked by 1 person

      • MDavis says:

        I have no words.

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      • David H Lippman says:

        The more I see of human beings, the more I like our pet animals.

        Human beings stormed the Capitol, brandishing Confederate flags, denouncing “traitors,” trying to kill elected officials, vandalizing the building with their own excrement.

        Human beings say “My body, you can’t force me to get a COVID vaccination” and then 1.) say “Women can’t have abortions and 2.) plead and beg for COVID vaccinations when it’s too late and they’re dying in an already-jammed ICU.

        Human beings say “Thin Blue Line” when they kill black cops and then beat the same cops unconscious when they protect the US Capitol from an insurrection.

        Human beings prattle about the “Axis of Evil” and start a war against two countries that never attacked us — Iraq and Afghanistan — the second of which goes on for 20 years and ends in 2,000 American dead and total defeat.

        Human beings say that “Climate Change is a hoax” while hurricanes sink the Eastern Seaboard and wildfires destroy the West Coast.

        And my favorite:

        Human beings demand a “war on crime” that does not include them getting ticketed for making an illegal right turn, buying drugs for their parties, paying and receiving kickbacks on contracts, or tax evasion.

        So I usually go back to our dogs and bird. Before that I went back to my snake, Axolotl, turtles, toads, lizards, and praying mantis. Or my wife’s ferret, hedgehog, and both our cats.

        Liked by 1 person

      • MDavis says:

        All of which makes me sometimes wonder if the pandemic, which prefers hosts who defy recommended precaution measures, is Gaia’s self-protection kicking in.
        Why dogs enjoy the company of many humans is a mystery to me.

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      • Kiwiwriter says:

        Well, if Gaia is kicking in, I hope it sends me Zoe Saldana. HUBBA HUBBA! Wowf! 🙂

        As for why dogs like humans, that’s gone on for millennia. They started hanging out with humans in caveman days, eating the leftovers. In return, they flushed out game and protected their humans. Thus began a highly symbiotic relationship that has continued to this day.

        More importantly, dogs are a calming, loving, and even unifying force in human existence. They make people feel good, calm them down, and give unconditional love. You can have the worst day in the world, but when you come home, your dog is ALWAYS happy to see you.

        And folks who raise, breed, and love dogs have a common and friendly subject of interest and discussion that transcends politics, religion, and even nationality. Friendly dogs make friendly people.

        Some of the best fun I ever had in my life was when I was in New Zealand with our dogs Leah and Emma. Leah was a pure-bred Doberman Pinscher, the first dog to fly directly from the United States to New Zealand. Emma was a typical New Zealand farm dog we adopted at the RSPCA. They were very popular when we walked them in the park, even though Emma was not too good with people.

        Then the New Zealand South Island Doberman Club heard about us, and started calling the RSPCA in great anger and annoyance, reporting a Doberman with “cropped ears” in Hagley Park in Christchurch. My wife immediately realized they’d seen us walking Leah, and, more importantly, cropping Dobie ears is illegal in New Zealand. My wife would say, “I’ll get right on it.” Then she’d look down at Leah and say, “Have you been causing trouble again?” And Leah would look up with a “who, me?” expression.

        We got word that the South Island Doberman Club was going to pursue legal action against us. And that they were having a “Ribbon Parade,” which is a fancy name for a picnic, in a nearby park. That weekend, my wife was the duty inspector, so we had the official van — we didn’t have to pay for gas. On the other hand, we had to go out if someone needed the RSPCA.

        Nobody did, so we drove over to the Ribbon Parade, in a nice forested picnic ground. The club members stared at us in puzzlement. They were good, law-abiding Dobie owners, so why was the RSPCA bothering them? We got out, and opened the side door. Emma bounded out and ran at top speed to the other Dobermans, clearly thinking, “Oh, boy 10 Leahs to play with!” Then she stopped, thinking, “Wait, there’s only one Leah.” Then she kept going, thinking, “Oh, what the heck!” The humans didn’t react. Just another New Zealand farm dog with brown brindle stripes.

        Then Leah gracefully leaped out of the van and trotted towards them. All the New Zealanders started pointing at us and yelled, “That’s it! That’s her! That’s him! That’s the dog!”

        As we strode over and Leah slowly pranced to a halt, a tiny little Scottish lady strode up to us, pointing at Leah, and said, with the force of the 93rd Highlanders in the Crimea: “Where did you get that dog?”

        My wife, nonplussed, said, “From a breeder in Pennsylvania.”

        The woman — her name was Terri, and she would become one of our best friends — gasped out: “YOU’RE YANKS! HOW DID YOU GET THAT DOG THROUGH THE SIX-MONTH QUARANTINE IN HAWAII!”

        My wife responded, “It isn’t there any more. Our dog was the first dog to fly directly to New Zealand from America.”

        The New Zealanders were jubilant. Now they could import large American Dobies. In 30 seconds my wife was filling out our membership papers. Once that was done, she asked, “So can Leah compete in agility and obedience?”

        Faces fell. “No,” someone said. “She has cropped ears.”

        But three things happened: Teri became one of our best friends, along with her Dobies; we went to all the South Island Doberman Club events; and we stopped getting angry phone calls.

        Liked by 1 person

      • MDavis says:

        This is the coolest thing I’ve read in days.
        Also, referring to the positive effect dogs have on people in general – I’ve heard that the best people are horse people and have sometimes wondered how much of that is because if a person is a bastard around, or to, their horse they may fact the disapproval of an animal that weighs approximately ten times what they do and comes pre-armed with a minor whip, a set of war hammers, and a set of serious pincers on the end of a club.

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      • Kiwiwriter says:

        I’m glad you enjoyed it.

        We’ve had nine dogs in our 27 years of marriage, and seven out of nine are rescue dogs. Four of those seven are the funniest dogs we ever had. If I could add photographs, I would.

        The best was Monster the Mighty Moose, a huge brown dog at 150 pounds. 50 percent Rottie, 25 percent Lab, 25 percent Terrier. That made him smart, funny, and good with people and other dogs. His stories were legion, personality immense. His favorite thing was to sit at the dining room table or in a chair with us, looking solemnly around the table for 10 to 15 minutes. We hoped he would say something, knowing it would be great wisdom. But he never did. He came from our animal shelter.

        Second was Oscar, from Doberman Rescue, a blue with uncropped ears, 90 lbs., and a large head. He loved people and other dogs, leaping up to put his paws on shoulders and lick them. When my daughter was a little kid, and she and her pals would run around the house, he would solemnly lumber after them, to keep them company. Every now and then he would capture a possum, pick it up, place it at our feet in the garden, and start washing it. The only dog I knew who had pet possums. Meanwhile the possum was playing possum.

        You see how dogs unify and unite people. If you raise warm, friendly, dogs, you will have a lot of friends.

        Liked by 1 person

      • MDavis says:

        I’ve kept this tab open for days now, re-reading it and thinking of the dogs we’ve had. One was an unplaceable mastiff mutt, a rescue from a busted Idaho Aryan compound, or so they told us. Hubby convinced the dog that he shouldn’t chase the cats, he should consider them part of the family and to be protected. He was severely disappointed at first but he came to love the new job. When hubby picked up a feral kitten that was starving – don’t know what happened to his mom – he introduced them to each other. The kitten never grew to a full size cat but had the confidence that came from having a mastiff-sized protector. I miss them both.

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      • Kiwiwriter says:

        The story behind how that compound was busted would be a great book. Aryan Nations, under “Reverend” Richard Girnt Butler.

        The neo-Nazis who inhabited that den of evil had a guard team that dressed in Sturmabteilung style. One day they heard a passing car backfire, and they jumped into a pickup truck, AK-47s at the ready, thinking that the evil US government had come for them at last. They chased a Native American family down the road, catching up with them, and making them stop. The neo-Nazis put the Natives under their muzzles, and interrogated them in best movie fashion. (“You are only being foolish. Ve haff vays of makink people talk!”) The Natives finally convinced the Nazis that they were just a family headed for a picnic and the car backfired.

        The top Nazi gave them some Hitlergrusses and said, “For this day, we will let your blood live,” hinting that telling anyone would result in harsher consequences.

        The Natives went to the Southern Poverty Law Center — and the cops — and Butler and his Nazis faced double-barrelled legal action. The Idaho Attorney General prosecuted them for the various illegal imprisonment crimes. It turned out many of the guards were convicted felons, and therefore not allowed to bear arms.

        The SPLC hit them up for civil damages, citing the wanton distress and pain inflicted, and their evidence was that the guards were convicted felons, and therefore not allowed to bear arms. Oh, and none of them had been trained in proper security techniques anyway, which was why they couldn’t tell a backfire from machine-gun fire.

        Butler lost the land, his compound, his shirt, and everything else, and had to move out of the Coeur d’Alenes. The site went to someone who wanted to turn the compound of neo-Nazism (and their annual conventions) into a compound of peace and anti-racism.

        I’m glad that dog learned to stop being a security dog and start being a friendly dog.

        Liked by 1 person

      • MDavis says:

        Wow. Wikipedia mentions the incident you describe and pegs it to 2000. That’s just about the right timeframe and we got the dog from a Sandpoint no-kill shelter. That’s about 50 miles away. No wonder he was hard to place.

        Hubby was the hero in his rehabilitation. He knew some people who trained dogs for security and tried some of the standard signals to let the dog know he was being offered a new job. Our first victory was when he accepted the new assignment so that we could take him home.
        He was trained to respond to commands in German and run away from commands in English. He treated that one like a big game of “run, chase, catch” as he was basically a big goof-ball friendly dog until the stuff hit the fan. It took a shock collar to break him of that one, just one use let him know we didn’t want to play that game any more. We gave the collar away to a neighbor who was trying to break their dog of biting.
        We had to really watch him four a couple of years when someone, anyone, wearing a hoodie came by, in fact we had to ask visitors to be aware and to not wear hoodies when they came over if possible. Apparently they trained him and used people wearing hoodies to play the bad guys. It took a couple of years to get over that one.
        But he was a good addition to our family. He never forgot all his security ideas but he wasn’t aggressive about them any more.

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      • Kiwiwriter says:

        The story of the case is on SPLC’s website. Some of those “guards” went to prison for, among, other things, parole violation. Also a variety of weapons offenses and the meth lab on the premises. Neo-Nazis make a lot of money from meth.

        I’m not surprised Hubby obeyed German and ran from English commands. They were probably preparing him to fight “heroic battles” against the “Zionist Occupation Government,” which meant he would have to obey commands from the “Sooper-Dooper-Dooper Race.”

        He is a very lucky dog. Did better than most of his human handlers. They wound up — and deservedly so — in clack. And Butler died of despair.

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      • MDavis says:

        Hehe – “hubby” is my husband. The shelter handed him off to some volunteers with no cats and they took him home and named him Patrick. They told us that they just tried different names until he seemed to like one of them, so Patrick he was.
        I didn’t realize how lucky Patrick was to have us for housemates. With his history, his luck started with landing in a shelter that had just gone “no-kill”. Thanks for putting the story pieces together for me, I’d never questioned how he came to be in the shelter except for the nickel version of the “neo-Nazi compound busted” story. I’d always assumed there were a lot of them, never thought to research which ones actually got busted and maybe lost their dogs.

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      • Kiwiwriter says:

        Well, I hope “Hubby” obeys, too! 😀

        The cops would have made a major effort to round up the dogs when they made the arrests, because of their potential danger. If the dogs had attacked someone and caused damage, it would have led to additional criminal charges and civil suits against the neo-Nazis.

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