Glibertarians.com 2018 Archive

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  • Sunday Morning Pie In the Sky Memorial Links

    Sunday Morning Pie In the Sky Memorial Links

    Fault is easy to find in this instance. Pie wrote a fine piece this week on Romanian wines, and showed me a category of wine I haven’t tried and you may as well show me the smooth body of a young girl. I’m there. So SP and I made the trek up to Milwaukee, the closest source of the intriguing Feteasca Neagra (Pie will forgive my inability to get the funny accent marks correct), a red wine made from the eponymous grape, a native of Romania (rather than an adapted variety from elsewhere). The first place we went, the salesman was helpful but somewhat befuddled. “I could have sworn we had some bottles of this, and our inventory shows there’s five of them somewhere…” After much digging and consultation with the store manager, they figured out that the inventory was a mistake. FUCK! But, they helpfully determined at another store nearby had stock and sent us in that direction, after observing, “No-one has ever asked for that wine before.” Extra points to the salesguy for not misusing the word “varietal,” one of those nails-on-chalkboard things for me.

    At Store #2, the salesman (after overcoming surprise from people actually asking for this) found their stock quickly, two different ones from the same producer (Cramele Recas) and upon observing the low prices, we grabbed half a dozen bottles. Since Pie liked the La Putere cuvee, and the name was vaguely reminiscent of prostitution, we started there. The good parts: very full bodied, smooth despite the relatively high alcohol, big fruit and spice, quite distinctive. It smoothed out a bit with air, and paired with dinner, it came across as almost sweet. The bottle drained rapidly. The bad parts: screwcap (that is not a closure which is good for development with aging), American oak (that was a bit jarring- why not Slovenian?) with a bit too much new wood. It’s very slick and commercial. Nonetheless, for ten bucks, we were happy. I’d love to try this variety made from perhaps a cooler area, not as much wood, lower levels of manipulation (e.g., more barrels, fewer chips), and cork-finished. But that said, we’d drink this regularly, and several hat tips to Pie for expanding our horizons.

    OK, enough wine talk, let’s have links!

    Trump actually gets off a few good lines. There’s even some self-deprecation, which is more than Obama could ever manage. My favorites:

    “I just want to say this, this is one of the best times I’ve had with the media — this might be the most fun I’ve had since watching your faces on Election Night.”

    “We were late tonight because Jared could not get through security.”

    “As far as the risk of dealing with a madman is concerned, that’s [Kim Jong Un’s] problem, not mine.”

     

    “President for Life.” Figure that only happens in dictatorships and shitholes. Or maybe other places as well…

     

    This sort of thing has always ended well… I hope that the vicious bigot Bishop Desmond Tutu is smiling.

     

    His ex will unveil the statue so she can set him up one last time.

     

    They’ve learned how to manipulate the media from the Parkland puppets. Two people quit and it gets headlines.

     

    Old Guy Music! This is a guy I used to see regularly in Austin, and has made a pretty decent career for himself. Here’s a rollicking little number from one of his Japan tours. Oldsters will remember Shakey’s.

  • ZARDOZ SATURDAY EVENING LINKS

    ZARDOZ SPEAKS TO YOU, HIS CHOSEN ONES. AS THE CHOSEN ONES KNOW, ZARDOZ IS ALL ABOUT TWO THINGS – CLEANSING BRUTALS AND HIS KITTY, MR. WHISKERS. ZARDOZ GOT A TUNE UP, DOWN AT THE GARAGE – AND IS FASTER THAN EVER! WHO KNEW THE BRUTALS DOWN AT SHELBY’S FIX N’ FUEL COULD TUNE GRAVATRONIC DRIVES SO WELL? ANY WAY, STILL HAVING SOME DOWN TIME, ZARDOZ DECIDED TO POP IN AND VISIT FRIEND STEVE SMITH. ZARDOZ HAD TO TAKE MR. WHISKERS WITH, AS ZARDOZ WILL NOT PERMIT BRUTALS TO WATCH HIS KITTEH!

    ZARDOZ WAS UNAWARE THAT FRIEND STEVE SMITH HAD A NEW PET BUNNY:

    FRIEND STEVE SMITH AND…UM.

    SO WHEN ZARDOZ LANDED, MR. WHISKERS JUMPED OUT AND …

    MR. WHISKERS, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?

    BEFORE ZARDOZ COULD ADMONISH MR. WHISKERS TO BEHAVE…

    MR. WHISKERS, WHAT DID YOU DO?

    THE TABERNACLE HAD JUST INFORMED ZARDOZ THAT THE RABBIT IN QUESTION WAS THE NEW PET OF FRIEND STEVE SMITH. NORMALLY, A GOOD CLEANSING DOES NOT BOTHER ZARDOZ – BUT THIS WAS NO BRUTAL, PART OF THE PLAGUE OF MEN THAT POISON THE EARTH. SO NOW ZARDOZ IS UNSURE OF HOW TO BREAK THE NEWS TO FRIEND STEVE SMITH, WHEN HE RETURNS FROM THE CAMPING SITE DOWN THE TRAIL.

    THEREFOR, ZARDOZ WILL GIVE THE CHOSEN ONES LINKS, WHILE ZARDOZ COGITATES UPON THIS PROBLEM.

    • “YOUR LAW AGAINST US IS UNLAWFUL“… ZARDOZ’S LOGIC CIRCUITS ARE ALREADY STRAINING. THIS IS NOT HELPING.
    • THE PENIS IS EVIL. KEEP IT HIDDEN, BRUTALS!
    • SELF-CLEANSING BRUTAL NEAR HAT AND HAIR? ZARDOZ WORRIES ABOUT THE HAT AND THE HAIR, ESPECIALLY LATELY.
    • ZARDOZ BEGINS TO THINK THE NHS MIGHT DO MORE TO CLEANSE THE FILTH OF BRUTALS THAN EVEN HIS BRUTAL EXTERMINATORS.

    ZARDOZ HAS SPOKEN.

     

    …

     

    MR.FLOPEARS?! WHAT HAPPEN???!

  • Mother Earth Brewing Co. Cali Creamin’ Ale

    For the most part our tastes in beer have been established.  Some like balanced to malty beer while a smaller number are somewhat vocal about their taste for hoppy beers.

    Others still, throw you entirely for a loop.

    A what?  Cream Ale?  That sounds like one of those oddly named east coast numbers–like the egg-cream soda, which contains neither eggs nor cream.

    This is my review of Mother Earth Brew Co , Cali Creamin Ale.

    An odd thing growing up in Arizona during the 90s was that was the time people from the east coast began to migrate there.  Prior to that it was mostly Cubs and Packers fans, who are large enough in number they actually make a noticeable increase in ticket sales to the local sports venues.   Here is Chase Field for example.  While the Red Sox and Yankees have drawn the largest average crowd size, their numbers are skewed by the limited appearances as they are both AL teams.  In the Yankees case, four of those games were from the 2001 World Series.

    I’ll give you this one Jersey. This stuff is good.

    At least that is the perception.  The reality, unsurprisingly, is California dominates the in-migrant flow to Arizona.  On page 22 of this report from Arizona State there is a brief discussion on migratory patterns from 2001-2014.    Although smaller in number the east coast migrants still make their presence known.  Yes, particularly in the winter.  Much of this was in the form of local restaurants becoming hang outs for fans of different teams, but also small markets for food that wasn’t previously available out west.  For instance, the aforementioned egg cream soda is made with UBet Chocolate syrup.  It’s been available here since I was a kid.  You could use something else, but its not the same and dare I say improper.  Another example is Scrapple, which I’m not going to eat but Taylor Ham I will.  I will also contend it’s basically an artisanal form of Spam no matter how much it irritates my stepdad.  Many of these things he simply explained as, “an East Coast thing,” as he is a refugee from New Jersey. Which is why he insisted I take the SAT even though I was going to major in a science which meant the ACT would be advantageous for me to take but that was a “west coast thing.”  This brings us to another “East Coast thing:”  the cream ale.

    So what is it anyway?

    It is no secret that German immigrants moved to America during the 1870s.  A few of these immigrants started brewing lagers.  Many argue these are now better suited for scare quotes, so these are now “lagers.”  Because of this migrant pattern, Americas taste for beer changed.  English style ales fell out of favor for crisp, light, German-immigrant made lager.

    “Ale brewers responded to this demand by creating a top-fermented product similar to an American lager. Using ale yeast (or possibly even a combination of lager and ale yeasts, though no concrete evidence exists for the use of lager yeast in the early cream ales), they could produce beer more quickly than the lager brewers could, thereby potentially increasing sales and market share.* It may also have meant that they could use the same worts for both lagers and ales and benefit from economies of scale. These new beers were termed “brilliant,” “sparkling,” or “present use” ales, with the nickname “cream ale” sticking as the common name.”

    In other words, a cream ale is the best of both worlds.  It has the light, crispness of a lager but also has the complexity of an ale.  They do this in part by brewing the ale at a colder temperature like a lager.  Few breweries that made these survived prohibition however, or were acquired by others.  A good example that is well known is Genesee.  Which for the record I have been able to locate in Arizona, but only once.

    So how is this one?  Disturbingly good.  It is every bit as refreshing as advertised,  it is light, not hoppy at all.  This one has a pleasant vanilla aroma they added in, making it something that is practically begging to be chugged.   I’ll be buying it again, even though the only downer was the price, which the bomber costing about $8.  Mother Earth Brew Co , California Creamin’ Ale: 4.5/5.

  • Saturday Morning How Do I Top This? Links

    Saturday Morning How Do I Top This? Links

    I feel like my Uncle Eddie.

    Eddie wasn’t really my uncle, he was my dad’s best friend, but still, Uncle Eddie. Eddie was a rather fearsome fellow, remarkably talented and intelligent, and (unlike my dad, who was remarkably kind and considerate) completely lacked in any shits to give regarding people’s feelings. He was smart, sarcastic, cutting, snarky, and merciless.

    I loved Uncle Eddie.

    In any case, Eddie’s employer decided to send him to a course, named after a best selling author of yore, which would (they hoped) help him to smooth over his rough edges. This was futile in that Eddie was nothing but rough edges, but they were tired of having person after person quit after being verbally ripped to shreds when their work was anything less than Eddie’s exacting standards. Part of the course was persuasive public speaking. The class was given an exercise: each person would stand up and extemporaneously give a speech that was supposed to arouse emotion in the audience. Person after person spoke, and because sadness is an easy emotion to tap, they all told sob stories, one after another. Near the end, a blind guy in the class got up and started speaking about his seeing eye dog. He spoke at length about the bond between them, the way the dog became almost part of him in a way that most humans couldn’t understand, how the dog transformed his life and gave him a love and devotion that could never be duplicated. He went on to talk about the dog’s eventual decline in old age, then talked about the night he held the old dog in his arms as the dog finally died. The class was in tears.

    Now it was Eddie’s turn.

    He stood up, shook his head sadly, and observed, “It’s tough to follow a dog act…”

    This aroused emotion in the audience, and Eddie was lucky to escape alive. And that is how I feel trying to follow SugarFree. Well, no matter, links must be served.

    What I’m taking away from this is that you’d do well to let incredibly corrupt and capable lawyers set up things like this rather than approaching it as a businessman. There’s much to learn from the Clintons.

    As long as there’s money to be raised and publicity to be hounded, there’s people you can always count on.

    And as long as there’s meaningless moral preening points to be made, there’s people you can count on to make them, while of course relentlessly self-promoting. This would be delightfully easy to intersectionally troll. “Wait, you visually decide? It’s not physical, it’s a social construct, you shitlord!”

    Speaking of which, here’s an example of toxic masculinity in action.

    This is the kind of shit that drives me crazy. A basic question is asked of a physicist, he gives a very standard answer, the reporter doesn’t understand it, and voila! clickbait ensues. The correct answer, Mr. They-Don’t-Teach-Science-In-J-School is, “Just because you can formulate a grammatically correct question doesn’t mean that it’s physically meaningful. There is no such thing as ‘before’ the beginning of time, it is a meaningless phrase, and Hawking tried to tell you that.” TW: Neil deGrasseTyson.

    There are some questions that really don’t need to be asked.

    And just because. Miss you, dude.

    In today’s Old Guy music, I’m reminded of why They Might Be Giants might be the best pop band ever. This is one of their lesser-known songs, but it shouldn’t be.

  • SEA SMITH FRIDAY NIGHT FISH LINKS

    TGIF!

    SEA SMITH DO LINKS TODAY! COUSIN STEVE SMITH ALREADY DO COLUMN. ZARDOZ STILL AT GARAGE. THAT LEAVE SEA SMITH TO DO LINKS. WAS THINKING OF DOING ONLY SERIOUS LINKS. BUT FIGURE, IT FRIDAY…DO FISH LINKS! STEVE SMITH LIKE FISH. EAT FISH, TALK TO FISH, RAPE FISH. SO HERE LINKS ABOUT FISH:

    1. HUNGRY COUNTRY WITH LOT OF PEOPLE AND NOT CARE ABOUT OVERFISHING … FISHES MOST. SEA SMITH KNOCKED OVER WITH FEATHER!
    2. SEA SMITH ALWAYS SHAKE HIS FINNED HEAD AT CALIFORNIA. YOU SAY “WHAT THEY DO NOW?!” SO SEA SMITH THINK, “OKAY, MORE FISHES FOR SEA SMITH!”
    3. HERE IS FEATURE ABOUT FISH, THAT JAPAN GLIBERTARIAN PEOPLE KNOW ALREADY. SEA SMITH LIKE TO HAVE SASHIMI WHEN VISIT JAPAN. BY VISIT, MEAN RAPE.
    4. AND LAST, HERE SAD STORY FOR NODAK GLIBERTARIAN PEOPLE. SEAS SMITH NO LIKE ICE, UNLESS IT TRAP SHIP FOR SEA SMITH TO VISIT. BY VISIT, MEAN RAPE.

    SEA SMITH HOPE YOU HAVE FAIR WIND, FOLLOWING SEAS…HA HA, BY THAT, MEAN SEA SMITH FOLLOW YOU!

    SEA SMITH SEE YOU!

  • Friday Afternoon Links – The Hat and The Hair: Episode 66

    “HOPE!” the hat moaned, misery rampant through his stitched structure and fabric frame. He was drunk and dark of spirit; amber beads of thick rare bourbon dripped from his bill to the floor of The Oval Office, the fine carpet around foul with his sick and sweat and other hatly excretions.

    “She’s gone,” the hair said gravely, clinging to the side of the desk where Donald had left him. He was trying to pry a piece of dried cheese food from an old burger wrapper with a wispy blond tendril. Donald hadn’t fed him in weeks. “She testified. We had to get rid of her. No rats in the White House. No stool pigeons. No leakers, wiki or otherwise. We have to run a tight ship.”

    “But it was Hope. I love her. She is so pretty and mean and thin and shaved,” the hat said forlornly. “Like a supermodel sea lion.” He vomited loudly, a torrent of assorted buttons spraying out before him. No two buttons were alike and many trailed thread.

    “What the fuck is all that?” the hair asked, dropping down beside him.

    “I don’t judge what you eat,” the hat said. The office flashed bright white from a bolt of lightning outside.

    “Of course you do. You judge everything and everyone and all the damn time.” The hair backed away under the President’s desk and drew himself in tight, a quivering bun. He longed for a half-remembered scrunchie where he once had felt secure.

    “Oh, God, when she used to snatch me off of Donald’s head and wear me, just me and nothing else.” The hat shivered with recalled pleasure and began to drag himself backward from the pool of button sick.

    “It’s over. She’s not coming back,” the hair said in small voice.

    “But, I loved her, man,” the hat said, his rank concupiscence hanging about him as a sexual miasma. “You remember when she peed on the floor right here? Yeah, you remember. I swear I can still taste it. Like ashes and the sea.”

    The hair sat silent in his hunger.

    “Guh. Enh. Uh, uh, uh,” the hat said, his tongue hanging out, his eyes bugging out, his headband elastic coming out.

    “What are you doing?” the hair asked from where he distractedly chewed on a shoal of dust and skin built around a forgotten of dollop contraceptive lube on the underside of the desk.

    “Shut up,” the hat grunted and then grunted and let out a grunt.

    “Oh, man, ah no, man, I don’t want to see that, aw shit.”

    “Don’t distract me; the carpet is perfect right through here.”

    The hair ran from side to side under the desk in disgust and terror.

    The hat ground himself into the carpet. “HOPE!” finally came his strangled cry.

    “I liked you better on heroin,” the hair sobbed.

  • GlibFit Challenge #1 Week #4: Almost Half Done!!

    GlibFit Challenge #1 Week #4: Almost Half Done!!

    Well, look at this. You’re almost halfway through the challenge! Hopefully your habits have improved and you’re starting to see improvements in your fitness, however you’re measuring that. For those scoffers ne’erdowells friendly Glibs who have been GlibFit skeptics, now is the perfect time to hop on the bandwagon! All the glory with 40% less work!

    We’ve finished up all the Girl Scout cookies in our house, so that temptation is gone.

    Now is the time when eating fruits and vegetables pays off.

    As for me, this week has been a maintain week. I’ve had some good days and some bad days, but the weight hasn’t gone anywhere. I probably didn’t hit my low carb goal, and was 1 day short on my physical activity goal. Next week is gonna suck worse because I get new job responsibilities starting Monday.

    Pro-tip: when you type “sesame street exercise gif” into DuckDuckGo with the search filter off (because that’s how you find the funny ones), you get about 80% Q-bait like this:

    As a feltosexual, you fleshy humans are horrifyingly disgusting to me, but for some reason you arouse one another with your bouncing and jiggling.

  • STEVE SMITH GIVE ADVICE, BETTER THAN “DEAR PRUDENCE”

    STEVE SMITH GIVE ADVICE, BETTER THAN “DEAR PRUDENCE”

    STEVE SMITH SHOW SENSITIVE SIDE – GET NEW PET BUNNY!

    STEVE SMITH SEE BIG STONE HEAD FRIEND NEED TIME OFF. HIM AT GARAGE, GET WORK DONE. SO STEVE SMITH COME IN AND GIVE ADVICE, JUST LIKE FRIEND ZARDOZ DO! STEVE SMITH START WITH EASY ONE – “DEAR PRUDENCE“. SHE SILLY PERSON. STEVE SMITH GIVE BETTER ADVICE THAN THAT!

    Q. Unfriendly co-worker: I work with a small team of six women. Most of us have worked together for years, except “Page.” Page has made it explicit she does not want to be friends; she wants to do the minimum required of her and go home. She is not interested in having lunch together, celebrating milestones together, or helping anyone out (for example, in the wake of an unexpected family tragedy). We tend to work around Page given her work ethic and attitude. But recently our headquarters moved, which means a longer commute for us all. Four of us live within a similar area so it makes sense to carpool. Page lives in the far end of that area. She wants in on the carpool. I’d rather sleep in an extra 15 minutes than deal with Page. I am not inclined to go the extra mile for a co-worker who will not give an inch, but I still have to work with her. How do I tell her nicely there is no way in hell?

    A. STEVE SMITH UNDERSTAND DISCOMFORT BEING IN VEHICLE WITH SOMEONE NOT LIKE. WHY, STEVE SMITH CAUSE MUCH DISCOMFORT IN RV, CAMPER AND BUS. BY CAUSE MUCH DISCOMFORT, MEAN RAPE OCCUPANTS. STEVE SMITH THINK BEST APPROACH DIRECT ONE – TELL “PAGE”, “NO, WE NO WANT. RATHER GET MAULED BY GRIZZLY OR BIT ON NOSE BY RABID BADGER!” IF THAT NO WORK, HIT “PAGE” OVER HEAD WITH BIG ROCK. IT WHAT STEVE SMITH DO.

    DRIVE OWN CAR!

     

    Q. The rich and famous: Growing up, I had a friend, “Becky.” We’ve always kept in touch, although we live in different cities now and aren’t as close as we used to be. Becky is a low-to-medium-famous person. She’s not a huge star, but most people would at least recognize her name. This summer, I’m getting married to my girlfriend, and we’re having a fairly big wedding. Becky was on the initial guest list, but I’m having second thoughts. I worry my wife and I will be overshadowed at our own wedding because people will be so focused on the celebrity there. In fact, when I talked to my future mother- and sister-in-law about the guest list, the first question they asked was if my famous friend Becky could come. I love Becky, but I also know she loves attention, and wouldn’t be able to resist “stealing the show” if given the opportunity. Would it be OK not to invite her? And if I don’t, do I owe her an explanation?

    A. STEVE SMITH UNDERSTAND WANT SPECIAL DAY TO BE OWN. STEVE SMITH KNOW WHAT MEAN TO BE CELEBRITY AND CAUSE DISTRACTION. STEVE SMITH SHOW UP AT CAMPGROUND, EVERYONE TRY TAKE PICTURE. STEVE SMITH HAVE TO DISCOURAGE THAT. BY DISCOURAGE THAT, MEAN RAPE ALL PHOTOGRAPHERS AND EAT CAMERAS. STAY AWAY FROM MINOLTA. GIVE BAD GAS. SO STEVE SMITH THINK YOU HAVE TWO OPTION; 1. NO INVITE “BECKY”, 2. INVITE “BECKY”, BUT PAIR UP AT TABLE WITH STEVE SMITH. STEVE SMITH HAVE EXPERIENCE WITH CELEBRITIES WHEN HIM GO HOLLYWOOD AS STEPHEN SMYTHE. BY HAVE EXPERIENCE WITH CELEBRITIES, MEAN RAPE CELEBRITIES.

    STEVE SMITH FUN AT WEDDINGS!

    ON SECOND THOUGHT – STEVE SMITH NO WANT SIT FOR WEDDING PICTURES. WASTE TIME.

    STEVE SMITH BLINK…SO WHAT?!

    SO STEVE SMITH SAY GO WITH NO INVITE. IF MIL AND SIL COMPLAIN, HIT OVER HEAD WITH BIG ROCK.

     

    STEVE SMITH GLAD HE HELP!

  • Friday Morning Links

    Friday Morning Links

    Thank God its Friday.  And the first round of golf I will have gotten to play in some time.  Well, that’s the plan anyway.  It may not happen now that I’m a little short-staffed at the auction yard after the yard guy I’d hired as a favor to my friend decided to get good and drunk on the job yesterday to the point that he embarrassed me in front of a customer I was loading out and then decided to take a 45 minute nap until I woke him enough to forcibly eject him from the property. Seriously. Dude was 3/4 of the way through his second 42 ounces of cool, refreshing Steel Reserve when I came back from a meeting with a customer and the landlord of my office. And it wasn’t even noon.

    Auction time? You mean sleepy time

    Anyway, I got out of there without him hurting himself or someone else. But that’s what I get for hiring the degenerate son of a friend instead of a random dude with a pulse that sits in front of the nearest Home Depot.  Lesson learned. and rant over.

    I don’t usually drink on the job. But when I do, I drink Steel Reserve.

    Hey, there were sports yesterday. Sorry Louisville, that choke job should put you out of the tournament. Michigan is advancing, as is Wisconsin (and that should put Maryland out as well). Penn State plays Ohio State tonight and will try to beat my Buckeyes for the third time this year.  I will be displeased if that happens. Wichita State won, as did Cincy and Arizona.

    On the ice, the Bruins went for the two-point conversion and put up 8 in beating the Pens. Other winners were the Hurricanes, Lightning, Panthers, the Predators, the Sharks (sorry Swissy), the Kings and the Coyotes, who beat the MINNESOOOOOODA WIIIIIIIIIILD!!!!  Congrats to the winners. Sorry, Chicago. This year is circling the drain.

    OK, that ought to do it for sports.  Now how about…the links!

    Beautiful, inviting Los Angeles

    Want to start the links with something retarded?  Then you’re in luck! You know, when your article is filled with government interventions that either fail to solve or actually exacerbate the problem, you might want to reach a conclusion other than “the government needs to solve this”.  But expecting that from the LA Times is like expecting a pig to do algebra.

    OK, this one is a bit of a dilemma for libertarians. Actually it isn’t. This is a private property rights dispute and the property owner or operator has a right to have someone removed that refuses to leave.  But we are still free to point out when that person using their rights is an asshole.  This is one of those times.

    When the “we have to ban guns because they’re the only way people can carry out mass killings” narrative is disputed by reality. If only it were easy for that family to have been able to easily purchase and use a deadly weapon to defend themselves against somebody. Unfortunately for them they lived in San Francisco.

    This man is a real warrior for social justice.

    I need one of the Chicago Glibs to track this guy down and buy him a beer. See, this is how Americans should get involved in fighting over there, not by being shipped over as an “advisor”.

    Its physical.  And educational. So why did the guy resign? Oh yeah, I guess because its not on the approved list of teacher aids. Jesus, what a bunch of prudes.

    Follow up to the piece yesterday where a college baseball coach told a Colorado recruit he wasn’t interested because kids from that state hadn’t been passing drug tests: he’s been fired. Listen, if I can give any advice here to potential managers, business owners or coaches: don’t ever give anyone a reason for not hiring, recruiting or retaining them.  Always say its “for no particular reason at all” and never share anything about your reasoning with anyone else in writing. Jesus, this is elementary stuff here. Only SJW’s can hire and fire people based on political or social beliefs. That’s the way its been for decades now.

    Not all power bands are created equal. This one was superior to any others I can think of.

    That’s all she wrote. It was good to get back to links duty. I hope I didn’t disappoint.

  • Who Should We Follow on Social Media?

    Who Should We Follow on Social Media?

    It’s been a while since we did a social media round-up. Since I’ve just started a liberty-centric Twitter account, I thought I’d ask the Glibertariat for input again on favorite social media accounts to follow. Not limited to Twitter.

    Self-promotion encouraged. Please include your own accounts in your comment if desired.

    Here are some Glib Founder accounts:

    Glib HQ (previously only auto tweets when articles are posted, considering upgrade)

    OMWC

    Playa Manhattan

    Riven

    Sloopy

    SP

    Your turn!