Published by

Ron Schalow

Ron Schalow is the owner of Iceberg Publishing, president of The Coalition for Bakken Crude Oil Stabilization and an amatuer agitator. Among Schalow's writings are two books: a nonfiction book about 9/11 and the movements of George W. Bush on that tragic day called "Bull$#!* Artist”; and a novel about an unlikely group of American suicide bombers who have been dropped into the tribal regions of Pakistan. It is named "Perfect Whackjobs." Schalow lives in Fargo.

RON SCHALOW: Don’t Give Me Your Tired, Your Poor Or Anyone Huddled

I don’t like to brag, but I’m not a white supremacist.

I’m a pale pinkish beige, touch of gray, slight kale-green hue supremacist. Gray geese, they call the two of us in the press, although, honestly, they don’t pay any attention. Effing chromos, otherwise.

Me, or I, except after c, and the other bloke in the mookie genus, Roy, are part of this microscopic first cousin tendril of the standard Caucasian, like you see wandering around looking up at the sun during an eclipse.

No offense to nitwits. I’m not a racist. I’m the least racist Kodachrome who ever existed, except maybe for Roy. Tough call. He hollered obscenities at a White Snowy owl once, but the bird probably had it coming, considering it latched onto Roy’s head. It dug in pretty deep, so it must have planned on staying for a while. Roy looks a lot like a fence post.

Some of our earlier relatives were pretty rabid racists, though. For instance, Brita. “Filter,” they called her, used to shout, “you effing sapiens. Go back to your “shithole.” But she could pass for white in the sunlight, so she doesn’t count. Some garish cosmetic-laden, pumpkin-headed lard a$$ grabbed Brita’s p**** one time, and she made him eat the Russian wife catalogue in his coat pocket, with no condiments. Also a coffee table.

Roy and I come from a long line of off-brand genetic northern heavyweights, including Ragnar Lodbrok and Eddard Stark, as far as anyone knows. Roy brags a bit, and gets downright militant at times, but we usually just do a little bleaching and blend in with the white people. Our meetings suck. Point of order! Point of order! Shut the eff up, Roy! Give me that gavel, you effing mook!

Roy’s prickly personality has led to a good stoning on several occasions. It’s never seemed to bother him, though. Tough skull genes. He’s lost a few eyebrows.

We held a rally once, followed by a walk for Kodo justice, but we barely got a block before Roy spots some bad hombre down on one knee, and loses it. “You ungrateful SOB,” screams Roy before he coldcocks the poor sap. It turns out the dude was in the midst of a major heart attack. Who knew it could be so complicated to spot a myocardial infarction from 50 yards? Anyway, the drama got thick. Roy grabbed a flight and is currently selling LED light bulbs in Puerto Rico. Better than being deported to Mitchell, S.D.

But Fargo resident, Pete Tefft IS a white supremacist. He’ll argue otherwise. But he’s aggressively white supremacist. Trust me. Any brown people introduced into the country, by birth or immigration, is just another excuse to scream “white genocide” for this dangerous nut. It’s a bright red flag at the least. He lurks around Chris Berg’s POV page, waiting for the tossing of the red chum.

Not that it makes any difference to him, but sepia-toned, and other shades of brown humans, have been on this dirt for over 10,000 years, and many more nonwhite, non-Christian types have showed up and settled, long before this space was a country. And many came on one of the delightfully torturous and mandatory death cruises. This hemisphere never met Pete’s expectations.

Tefft calls himself a “pro-white activist,” which in Fargo doesn’t even merit a torch lit 5K — or a pancake feed. Only the altos feel like they’ve been trodden on for their skin color. The others are tailgating.

People in Fargo, including me, have referred to Tefft as our resident white supremacist. If only that were true. Pete is just tip of the iceberg with a defective haircut. Do you just goose-step into the nearest Cheap Cuts and ask for a Herr Himmler?

Alt-right dolts have permeated the country. But few altos show up at a women’s march looking for attention like Tefft. The misogyny runs strong in the cult. Ninety-nine percent of the yokels stay dormant, like devious cancer cells, until summoned. I’ve heard a tremendous tuning fork is involved. There’s always a humming in my head anyway. The dog whistles are less subtle, and the beast has risen. Then, there is the president, who just flat out spits the racism right at the camera lens. For some, this a feature not a bug.

In Fargo, the severe right flock to the usual online places, for a shot at feeling superior. KVLY and POV-something are always good for some race baiting headlines, as are Scott Hennen’s Facebook page and Rob Port’s Fargo Forum- owned blog, where they outwardly cheer the Tiki tots of Charlottesville and continue to bitch about Obumble. Port is a peach, except for his dishonest pit. Port and KVLY have banned me from their sites. Probably a good move.

  • Acceptable comment on Port’s blog: “Speaking of fun, i am trying to decide what to do with my first month of my tax cut. Maybe a new drone or a neon sign for my bar room. I need those things more than some 400lb ghetto whore needs her food stamps.” Warning: Not all of the comments are this classy.

Anyway, the first thing to establish for racists is when commenting on any topic, is that you’re not a bigoted racist and whine about probably being called a bigoted racist by some cuck officially with the “intolerant left,” then proceed to act like a bigoted racist. There’s a manual on 4Chan.

Thankfully, like everyone else, all alt-righters are not alike. It’s a buffet. Some believe there are people who identify as transgender because it is trendy. Others don’t know what those words mean. It’s a cornucopia.

Having an attitude problem with refugees, dreamers and natives, in particular? Those are the big three in North Dakota. A red-faced disdain for any type of immigration — and indigenous people — is all you need. You’re set. It’s like a starter kit for racists. The professional race experts who have never been south of Oakes, N.D., like to toss in Chicago, Baltimore, Ferguson and the words “inner city” to show off their memorization skills.

Oh, and the wall. It will make us safe from something, maybe Mexican bears, even though humans have been outsmarting tall barriers for a few thousand years. Outwitting a fear exploiting Trump wall should take a minute. The chain migration whining is BS. Even the few lottery recipients get vetted for years.

We’ve managed to keep tourism down, though. Less stolen hotel ashtrays, I guess. “Marge, let’s go visit that place where the creepy racist lunatic liar runs the show. Whatta you say?” “Shut up, Marvin. You’re an idiot. At least we’ll be safe in Mexico.”

White nationalists, neo-Nazis, Donald Trump supporters and the KKK. Think of the picnics. Swastika tattoos for the kids, crotch grabbing and zero for the cucks. Porn stars. Hankies for the incels who claim  “involuntary celibacy” because of SOCIETY, man. Sob. Alex Jones might be there. Maybe Steve Bannon. BYOT — Bring Your Own Torch.

“White identity” is under attack by multicultural forces, you know. Altos hate “political correctness” and “social justice.” Lib%$&#’s, dem@—!^%’s, and progs are frowned upon with a white hot passion. Boo to “establishment” conservatism. “Jews won’t replace us.” Some also vilify women, especially those pushy feminists. “Femoids” refers to women these rubes consider nonhuman. Deep undercover. Muslims, and anyone who isn’t as straight, as the alt-righters believe themselves to be. There are only two genders because they say so, and saying otherwise confuses them, more than it should.

They have their own language. Like Trump.

  • Fun fact: Stephen Miller, Donald Trump’s Igor, does cameos on cop shows, as the sheet-covered body. Lifting the linen, revealing his dead empty shark eyes, scares the dogs, and they butt their heads into the TV, so they stopped uncovering Steph’s face. Especially troubled were Mexican Chihuahuas. They waited 1,400 years to bite the first European to wade ashore, and they are genetically predisposed to clamp onto the tibia of racist humans.

For all of my years in North Dakota, we’ve been trying get people into this state. Bribing them, if necessary. Now, it depends. Fargo City Commissioner Dave Piepkorn and Rep. Chris Olson, and whole pack of others with at least one good opposable thumb, want to know, as Olson claims, what is the “absorptive capacity” of a town as it applies to legal refugees with a darker tint than Edgar Winter. Or Olaf, for younger readers. Rob Port discovered, through one of his anonymous sources, that Olaf is actually a fake fictional character and is frankly animated, and professionally so. Damn California leftists.

Piepkorn just wants to know how much these people with pigmentation cost the city. He never says, “if anything.” Breitbartism is alive and well in Fargo.

Whoa, let’s just do a cost-benefit analysis on everyone. Send Port a bill for the wear and tear he’s been putting on the sidewalks in Minot. Unreliable sources tell me he walks the town in a disoriented state nightly. He could be smoking too many bowls in a sitting.

Unvetted people are driving into Fargo every day. Some fly. We need to stop every moving van headed our way before the interlopers put in an arugula garden and start brewing deliciously hoppy — with a lemony tang — craft beer. Our city borders are leaking like the Trump White House. Roy was as lazy as 45 easy. But he split without a debriefing. He made good money, so despite his relaxed state of being, his tax contributions put him the plus column.

Such bull$#!*. Nobody wanted to know the “absorptive capacity,” of anything, when the oil patch was teeming with thousands of workers, many who drove their old pickup, all the way from Kentucky, only to find they didn’t have a job waiting. Lot’s of them ended up broke and homeless. Did anyone ask how much these poor people cost Williston?

Did we “absorb” the pimps, drug dealers, thieves, and other crooks who always follow the money, without a hitch?

C.S. Hagen did a research piece, published  in the High Plains Reader, called “DISLIKE” (available online), which identified nine North Dakota politicians who identify with the alt-right.

All of the state representatives listed are also “coincidentally” in the “Bastiat Caucus.” The “Whitesnake Caucus” was already taken, or so many people might say. The next step, obviously, was to look for names in 19th century France.

  • Congressman Kevin Cramer; aka “the barnacle on Trump’s racist ass.”
  • Rep. Rick Becker.
  • Rep. Luke Simons.
  • Rep. Chris Olson.
  • Rep. Daniel Johnston.
  • Rep. Dwight Kiefert.
  • Rep. Sebastian “Seabass” Ertelt.
  • Fargo City Commissioner and Fargo Deputy Mayor Dave Piepkorn.
  • Burleigh County Commissioner Jim Peluso.

I have no doubt that more altos have weaseled their way into our Legislature and other offices, but nobody is bragging about it. Some will rail against the leftist scum, cuckservatives, government lib%$^*s, snowflakes and, of course, the feminists involved in the “New World Order.” They also abhor pedophilia rackets in pizza shops and Hillary’s emails.

I don’t think those in Al Carlson’s “Angry Dinosaur Caucus,” even know what’s transpiring. Al is my representative, and he even answered one of my emails. I was flattered. He wrote, “I’ll get back to you.” Of course that was four years ago, so Carlson might be having trouble working his email machine. Fingers crossed.

Anyone who thinks that allowing less people into our country — Judy Estenson, chairwoman of District 23 of the North Dakota Republican Party wants that. She said so in the Forum. I’ll wager most the North Dakota GOP feels the same. — is going to help anything, is full of liverwurst.

Besides being a plus to our economy, it’s the right thing to do. Save lives, reunite families and provide opportunity to deserving people. It’s not like we’re short on space.

# # #

“An April 2017 analysis by the Government Accountability Office found that in recent years, 73 percent of terrorism fatalities were caused by “far right wing extremists.” — Washington Post.

RON SCHALOW: Partners in Slime

I’m all a flutter waiting on Kevin Cramer’s big decision. Actually, my heart does have a slight flutter. I should have that looked at. Anyway, our lone congressman needs to decide whether to run against Heidi Heitkamp for her Senate seat, or shoot for another two years in Congress. Anyway, the Cong …

Whoa. Wait. Cramer just decided he wants to have a job in 2019. He likes the income — and the benefits — no matter how much he pleads poverty on $175,000. And the work is easy. He just votes as he’s told, which a relatively intelligent parrot, a cockatoo perhaps, could probably handle. But the Constitution insists on human representation. Plus, the birds will fly off in a blur of colorful feathers, given a crack of daylight, and drown themselves in the Potomac. Parrots have shame.

President Trump invited Cramer and his wife to the White House to sell Kevin on running against Heidi. As far as we know anyway. Our congressman has only mentioned it 412 times.

Evidently, the stable genius wasn’t his coherent fourth-grade best, and it was hard to tell exactly what the fat old man really wanted, through the vulgar cursing, and repetition of the story, the one when he invented chunky soup with Millard Fillmore and that one porn star. The best soup ever. Trust him. No $#!**& beet or lima bean soup. That’s what I heard from some guy yelling at a fire plug.

Let this be a lesson to all of the kids out there. The dishwasher gel packs aren’t edible, and don’t inhale the hairspray. Thankfully, 45 kept the grabbing to a minimum during the visit. His digits were cramping up from his most recent Tweet bomb cyclone.

Evidently, the world’s best salesman couldn’t make the sale, even to his most ardent apologist. And Sammy, that’s what Trump calls everyone he can’t remember, decided to play it safe. Or so Kev thinks. I predict that North Dakota state Rep. Rick Becker will change his mind about not running for statewide office, and primary the smirker, and win the Republican nomination. Or Becker will make a run for the Senate. He’s for freedom, you know. It’s a popular stance.

Cramer will find a job quickly. The country has a severe shortage of pantsuit critics.

You have to hand it to the congressman. He glommed onto Trump prodigious bum early and excused everything the crude, incompetent. immoral, racist, sexist, lying, egomaniac, narcissist, tax-evading, xenophobe, draft dodger, mentally challenged, Russian tool and lunatic, with an unseemly large supply of Tiki torches in the oval office, did or said.

The list is much longer, but what’s the point? Seventy percent of Americans already know what a sleazy creep this president has been for many decades. Cramer never even bit his lip. He wanted a Cabinet position. Screw the country.

And the book. Every time I read one of the damning passages, I thought, yeah, I can see that happening. Not too shocking. Few people think he is qualified for the job. He’s a just huckster. OMG, the president is bald! Who would have thought it? Ike was pretty much hairless, but you didn’t see him strutting around with a Pomeranian on his dome.

Trump’s shameful behavior never bothered the holy extra pious Cramer, though. Even the ****hole ooze pile of horse$#!*. The detestable Trump is the opposite of godly. Cramer chose Trump over Christian behavior. Kev’s two-faced. The worst kind of face. Cramer equals Trump now. One in the same.

But God told Kevin to run for Congress. Uh huh. I don’t think he’s allowed to worship Trump, too. I’m positive on that one. I know the pope frowns on it.

Of course, every member of the North Dakota GOP, including the governor, remains silent, which makes them all as complicit in this grease fire as Cramer, and the nativist rhetoric and policies of the fat @$$. Good humans don’t support repugnant con artists.

Trump is an adherent of the alt-right. He’s proven it, over and over. You may have noticed Steve Bannon lurking in the Oval Office looking offensive. The alt-right is made up of white nationalists, white supremacists, neo-Nazis, neo-fascists and others. They like fire on flimsy sticks, don’t care for uppity women and think that white men are under some sort of siege.

North Dakota has a good share of these “fine people” in the Legislature. How many? I don’t know. Too many. Who are they? I could make some good guesses, but voters should just ask — or figure it out — by what type of clever-coded jargon the politicians use on their Facebook pages, and websites.

Many people in North Dakota agree with these views. They believe a wall isn’t stupid and that Trump is looking out for them, “the forgotten people.” Donnie couldn’t pick out North Dakota on a map, and Mr. Gold Toilet would think every town in the state is a $#!*hole. Luckily, we’re already stocked up on Norwegians.

This old yarn was recently posted by two legislators on their Facebook pages, It may go back as far as Reagan’s fictional black welfare queen.

“Went to Yellowstone with my family, signs everywhere saying not to feed wild life. The reason for this is that the wildlife become dependent on handouts and forget how to live in the natural environment.They become lazy, and violent and the family structure is ruined. If it’s true for nature it’s true for humans Of all NATIONALITIES.”

Dog whistle alert at the end. It’s a don’t-call-me-a-racist warning. If you have to deny it, you probably have some extreme ideas about race. “They become lazy and violent, and the family structure is ruined.” Ever heard that line applied to anyone living in Belfield, N.D.?

Are people animals? Yes, but none of them live in Yellowstone, and few people have mounted a human head on the rec room wall. The poster of this simplistic offensive paragraph has cattle. Are they dependent on him, or do they all have jobs in town, at Dairy Queen? Are cows more important than people? To some folks, I guess.

And this next genius lawmaker follows Trump’s lead because like 45, he doesn’t understand the issue or is in denial that an issue even exists, as if living in North Dakota — or a penthouse — makes one an expert on race.

“Thank you, Alejandro Villanueva for doing the right thing and making your fellow veterans proud. To Coach Tomlin and the rest of the feckless Steelers, you’re ungrateful wimps that should be fired.”

This sycophant doesn’t know much about football, but he and his funky haired buddy, know that the NFL is made up of mostly of large black men. Bull$#!* like this plays well with their intellectual base. Quit kneeling, dammit!

As the classy stooge, Rep. Roscoe Streyle would say to these two gentlemen, Trump, and Cramer, if there were any chance he didn’t agree with them; go pound sand, you stupid %@&*$!’s.

RON SCHALOW: Dope For An Old Dope

It was a dark and stormy ni… d’oh. Wrong story. Actually, it was a cool and calm evening, with a cloudless sky and a full moon. Hardly the point but worth noting.

I and an associate were attending one or several parties in Bismarck. It’s not clear how many, but liquor, my favorite liquid at the time, was served. My associate, who was also my friend, was also not allergic to beer and whiskey but was an amatuer comparatively speaking.

On another date, I was at a party in Bismarck, associate-free, where they played “Love by the Dashboard Light” over and over and over. My brain was overflowing with Meat Loaf. You never truly recover.

At some point, pot was introduced into the mix. Except for a handful of times in the past, I had always declined when a lit joint was pushed in my face. I had enough problems. But I was in a weakened state of mind, and my associate was in a regular state of mind but was unphased. We both partook. Deeply inhaled, we did and took our turn on most passes.

I didn’t know if it was good pot. I didn’t know the strain. I had no clue who obtained the pot or where they got it. I had no expertise when it came to marijuana.

Then we decided to go to Mandan. Why? I don’t know. Why did anyone? I didn’t live there and neither did my associate, Maybe there was another party to attend that was too good to miss. There might have been a rumor of a large pack of girls gathered, a gender that motivated my associate to a degree of distraction. Did I get his drift? I easily got his drift. As Hawkeye Pierce once said, “I played left drift in high school.”

I always played it as cool as a fondue pot of bubbling Hot Habanero Cheddar.

Sidebar: Whenever someone mentions Mandan, I always think of an act in one of hotel lounges in Bismarck. The front man of the band referred to Mandarin, the little Chinese community to the west, which wasn’t funny, before singing, “You Picked a Fine Time to Leave Me Loose Wheel.” That was pretty clever.

So off to Mandan we drove. By car. I don’t condone or recommend this type of behavior, but it did happen, without a thought. That was my MO for decades. My friend had a big Buick with a huge engine. Gas hadn’t reached a buck yet in 1979. And if I looked under the hood, it made sense. It was reassuring.

Since my friend was considerably shorter than me, the bench seat was set all the way forward, which forced my knees into the glove box. It didn’t hurt. He was a short, stocky cowboy who wanted to try his hand at a city job. He knew how to grow animals and plants for human consumption. I’ve never handled a live roast, but he had. He would even sit on irritated bulls for some reason.

I doubt if we buckled up — or gave it consideration. The Buick rolled off the ramp onto Interstate 94 and didn’t merge with other vehicles, since most normal people were sleeping in the middle of the night. We headed west.

The ride was as calm as any I’ve experienced. The big car moved smoothly and quietly.

I had previously owned a number of large vehicles, none that moved smoothly or quietly. One had the same gas mileage and disposition as a poorly tuned World War II-era Sherman tank. Another had self-flattening tires, which was convenient. On one occasion, the wind whipped the air and snow into a minus-50 chill. By the time I finished switching out the left rear tire, the meat on my ham bones were frozen solid to the marrow of my femur. I had to defrost my legs slowly in a walk-in cooler for a week, like a Butterball turkey fresh from the freezer section. It was unpleasant.

My associate and I tackled some deep topics on the empty highway. We coined the inane phrase “it is what it is” and promised to never repeat it. It leaked out somehow. I don’t think Trump has placed claim on the expression yet.

Was the moon at its apogee, or perigee, or neither? We didn’t have phones that connected to an Internet to get the facts. Or any phone, since they were priced in the Howard Hughes range and were as large as a salt lick. Speculation was all we had. The dark ages.

He wanted me to explain women, since I had been in the company of several females and he assumed I had garnered some useful knowledge. I learned nothing. I’m still stupid on the topic. Perhaps dumber. He was disappointed. I suggested he stand behind one of those bucking horses and wait until the feeling went away.

If most pro and college kickers can blast the football into the end zone almost every time from the current kickoff spot, why in the hell don’t they move the line back, so fans can see a runback. Way more exciting than some dude taking a knee every time. We were in strenuous agreement. Excited utterances nearly erupted.

All was well. Then my associate spotted a giant cow on a mountain to our left. I said, I know that cow. It’s Salem Sue, a superhuge Holstein. It’s dead, as far as I know, but don’t provoke it.

Anyhow, we overshot Mandan by 30 miles, and not purposely as is generally the case. So my associate took the New Salem exit and made two lefts, to get the Buick pointed east. It was acutely untraumatic.

Not much later in my life, I climbed the cow mountain, with several different associates. I used to have a large number of associates. Anyway, the cow is definitely deceased.

We did make it to Mandan, or we kept going to Bismarck, or Jamestown. It was impossibly unimportant.

As George W. Bush rationalized his substance abuse until he was 40: “When I was young and stupid, I was young and stupid.” I suspect he retained the stupidity, and perhaps I have backslid, but not to the degree of decades past.

Now nearly four decades later, I find myself a candidate for marijuana, medical or otherwise, for several chronic maladies. Nothing on my insides seems to be operating with any accuracy, and my nerve endings don’t respect their former boundaries. There is no precision to my walking.

I would like to give it a try. But I’m still ignorant about pot.

Where do I get it, without moving to another state? Do I stand in a dark alley near downtown and vigorously wave my cane? Is there a code word to shout? Is there an app? Does anyone deliver? How much does it cost?

I know there is plenty of inventory. Every other week, some poor schlub who got paid a couple hundred bucks to transport a bale of pot down the interstate, gets pulled over for some bonehead reason.

I used to have associates across the spectrum, some who could handle touchy things for me, or at least tell me what to do. Google is worthless on this topic, and I love Google. I used to be in cahoots with the Canadian mafia for crissakes. They weren’t that scary.

Opiates don’t do the trick, and I’m kind of glad. I would rather smoke a weed.

Tell the Feds if you wish. Maybe they’ll know how the hell it works.

RON SCHALOW: American Gun

Is it still too soon to talk about guns — and the slaughter in Las Vegas — or is too late? Who makes the timing rules? I think it’s Sean Hannity, who is in some unholy alliance with Bobo, aka the president of the United States, who is so short on brain juice that he’ll believe or lie about damn near anything. Sleazeball times two.

It doesn’t matter. Thoughts and prayers. There will be another large massacre soon enough. Of course, the media (yes, the liberal one, which keeps unfairly recording Bobo) and our public servants in D.C., won’t get off their fat a$$es, unless the blood is ankle deep when it’s a white shooter, or zero inches for a Muslim extremist, one of the smart ones, who couldn’t make it past the planning stage before getting J. Edgared.

And no, the mere mention of any sort of attempt to keep guns out of the wrong hands, or limit their lethality, is not a ban. Gun control does mean a ban on all guns, or the hairbrained parts to make them more lethal.

A smattering of regulation, considering the mountain of armaments floating about the country isn’t going to keep people or animals, safe. Maybe a bit. Maybe. Better than nothing, Bobo. It’ll get better, if we do something.

Try to get your hands on a stick of dynamite.

You can buy a flamethrower online, for crissakes. Impress your friends by lighting the grill from across the yard. Ooh, sorry Jimmy. Walk it off, bud. Char your cranky neighbor, Orville, from your bedroom window, and torch his fancy picket fence to the ground, which is 3 inches on your land.

Cars have nothing to do with it. Yes, we know that people are killed in and by cars, you rubes. One of the fine people in Charlestown for the Tiki tot rally, sent bodies flying, and killed a woman with his car. Cars will not be banned, but some brain poor idiot, many actually, will bring it up. Every time. Duh, maybe we should ban cars, heh, heh.

Oh yeah, what about Chicago, you liberal cuck? Oh, Chicago, that island surrounded by water, horrible ocean water. There is no way to get guns into that town. Or Baltimore.

And we should blame the spoon for obesity. My sides ache. Stairs. We must ban them because of gravity. Knives, of course. Frying pans, arrows, hammers, name a tool, and giggle at your cleverness. Duh, maybe we should ban________, heh, heh. Take my wife, please.

The only thing that stops a bad guy with a gun, is a good guy with a bazooka. Thirty-second floor and far away, dudes. You could just as well throw your 30 mm Beretta towards the a$$hole terrorist shooter.

I don’t even know why we’re arguing with this small herd of extremists that bark at the mailman and scream freedom like Mel Gibson because tyranny runs rampant in this country. Stupid laws on things.

Only 25 percent of adults (estimated) in America own a gun, and 3 percent of these gun “superowners” possess 50 percent of all firearms. (Time) A little over 10 million citizens own 50 percent of all the guns in the United States. The Las Vegas a$$hole terrorist had a lot of guns.

Among those 10 million are collectors and hunters. Or both. And among the hunters are reasonable men and women. Eighty percent of ALL Americans favor universal background checks for ALL gun purchases, but the Senate still voted it down. That leaves just 2 million citizens who won’t suffer any inconvenience of any measure.

Less than three-fourths of 1 percent of American adults own 50 percent of the guns in the country. It’s kinda like our money.

Armslist.com is just one of the websites where you can shop for guns from private sellers in your town who aren’t subject to background checks. Many gun shows are the same.

Of course the extremists deny that this loophole exists, and I go, nuh huh. I’ve contacted some of these private sellers and asked. Background check? Nope. What sense does it make to do a background check on just some gun buyers? About as much sense, but not as funny, as Rodney Dangerfield rushing past his assistant and hollering, “Ophelia, hold some of my calls.” (“Back To School,” 1986). Well, I thought it was funny.

So, less than 2 million people are holding some of our calls.

But snowflake. The Vegas a$$hole terrorist passed his background checks. I know. Everything doesn’t have to be about the last massacre. The streetlights on 13th Avenue didn’t stop the accident from happening on Fourth Street, either.

“But I’m mad now” Homer Simpson

Indeed, the a$$hole terrorist purchased dozens of guns, large capacity round drum magazines, clips, bump stocks, ammo and somehow managed to lug it all up to his room on the 32nd floor of the Mandalay Bay Resort and Casino. Are the metal detectors on the blink? The Oceans 11 guys didn’t have so much stuff. Usually, businesses that deal in large amounts of cash have a high security apparatus. Maybe some improvement is due?

How did the a$$hole terrorist accumulate so many long guns, in a short period, without a red flag getting vigorously waved?

From USA Today: “Gun shop owners are required under federal law to alert ATF if a client buys more than one handgun from the same store within five days, but the same rule doesn’t apply if a gun owner buys multiple semiautomatic rifles, said David Chipman, a former ATF special agent and senior policy adviser at Americans for Responsible Solutions, which advocates for tougher gun rules.

That discrepancy allows people like Paddock to stockpile arsenals such as the one used in Sunday’s shooting, he said.

“The amazing loophole here is you could buy two small pistols and ATF will be alerted to that, but you could buy 20 assault rifles and ATF won’t be alerted at all,” Chipman said. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

No, it doesn’t make any sense. Will one of the D.C. trio from North Dakota introduce legislation to close this loophole? I doubt it.

And what percent of the 3 percent are gangs, patriot groups that hate the government, white supremacists, preppers, who have their bunkers all decked out and ready for Halloween and the apocalypse. Other interesting chaps buy their guns by the dozen, too.

Large capacity round drum magazines, ammo clips as long as a Bobo tie, bump stocks and any device that can turn a semiautomatic rifle essentially into a Gatling gun, have to go. There is no point to a 60 bullet clip, or a 100 shell drum magazine, except to kill a lot of people, or just eff around with for fun. Get a different hobby.

The white-tailed deer I’ve talked to, say, one shot and they’re vapor. Rattle off the other 59 shells if you want, but I’ve split, you moron, you. Tails of any color, all have a very fast beast attached to them, that are spooked by a chipmunk chewing.

Personally, I would like to ban any long gun that can be converted to machine gun removed from the stores, but that’s not going to happen. What will all of the shirtless guys pose with, for their Facebook profile pictures, if not an AR-15? Oh, the manliness.

For gawds sake, don’t call an an AR-15 an assault rifle, or 18 people on Facebook will automatically flip out. They just look like an assault rifle, which makes them cool, and they can hold the giant-sized clips and round drum magazines, in case you’re attacked by a large pack of gophers. Light them up, Louie.

But: “Under the guidance of former Marine and former Army Ordnance technician, Eugene Stoner, the AR-10 became the main focus of attention. Army officials asked Armalite to develop a smaller version of the AR-10 in 1956 as a potential replacement for the M1 Garand. The ensuing rifle was called the AR-15 and was produced with aircraft grade aluminum receivers, weighing less than seven pounds.” — Armalite

So, call it anything but an “assault rifle,” but know this particular weapon was developed for war, and it hasn’t been allowed in the hands of civilians for all that long.

Oh, buttercup. If a person wants to kill a lot of people, they’ll find a way to do it, one way or another. Not really.

Could the kid-killer in New Town have built a bomb, or found a way to illegally buy all of the weaponry he stole from his personally murdered mother? Doubtful. Did he have the wherewithal or the money? Was he to just walk downtown and ask for the grenade guy?

If a person is determined, they could take a chainsaw to my, or anyone’s, wood door. They could chuck a rock through my glass patio doors. I’ll just lock the doors, and go to bed.

Most of these dicks aren’t that bright.

Speaking of not too bright dicks, Forum Communications has one on staff. He’s a big-time blogger, and he reminds me of the statue that stood outside of Bob’s Big Boy in Minot on Fourth Street. Anyhow, I choose to refer to Voldeport as BBB, in memory of Big Boy, who always sported checkered garb, just like BBB.

First, after the Vegas bloodbath, BBB, out of some sense of loyalty to the NRA, who knows why, wrote that these mass murders would stop, if the media didn’t “rubberneck” after these killings and actually report the event. That’s pretty stupid BBB. The usual. It’s a good thing you’re allowed to publish anything.

Then, my pal, BBB, who made a case for not talking about the Vegas slaughter, decided that his advice didn’t apply to him, wrote a post, entitled, “If murder were legal, who would you kill first?” BBB’s premise is that the vast majority of us would not kill anyone. Mostly. Today. It makes for a nice fairy tale. That the good people would never kill. Until they do. Any kind of gun control is a red herring, claims BBB. He’ll say most anything, but invoking a fish is just sad..

BBB never tries to come up with any answers, though. Evidently, according to the right wing, Americans are too stupid to figure out this one out, so just don’t think about it.

Then, he wonders in print why Heidi Heitkamp isn’t talking about gun control, as if she has voted for any laws in the past. BBB loves Heidi. I truly believe she could kick BBB’s B around the block.

And lastly in this batch of rants, he tries to change the subject by pointing out that most gun deaths are due to suicide. Thanks BBB. But as a child can clearly see, a mass murder from a high floor of a hotel in Las Vegas has nothing to do with the suicide of an individual. Homicides are different. That’s why they named the two differently.

He wonders why no one is waving the flag on this epidemic, which is a silly false assertion. People are on it, spud. Typical BBB. Then he lies, by stating that a gun in the house has no effect on suicide rates. Experts across the board say that a gun in the home increases increases the risk of suicide, and bunch of other bad things, but BBB, a Minot High grad, as far as we know, pulls alternative facts out of his B. He does the same with global warming.

This final chunk was written by New York Times columnist Nicholas Kristof, who makes some sense.

  1. Impose universal background checks for anyone buying a gun. Four out of five Americans support this measure, to prevent criminals or terrorists from obtaining guns.
  2. Impose a minimum age limit of 21 on gun purchases. This is already the law for handgun purchases in many states, and it mirrors the law on buying alcohol.
  3. Enforce a ban on possession of guns by anyone subject to a domestic violence protection order. This is a moment when people are upset and prone to violence against their ex-es.
  4. Limit gun purchases by any one person to no more than, say, two a month, and tighten rules on straw purchasers who buy for criminals. Make serial numbers harder to remove.
  5. Adopt microstamping of cartridges so that they can be traced to the gun that fired them, useful for solving gun crimes.
  6. Invest in “smart gun” purchases by police departments or the U.S. military, to promote their use. Such guns require a PIN or can only be fired when near a particular bracelet or other device, so that children cannot misuse them and they are less vulnerable to theft. The gun industry made a childproof gun in the 1800s but now resists smart guns.
  7. Require safe storage, to reduce theft, suicide and accidents by children.
  8. Invest in research to see what interventions will be more effective in reducing gun deaths. We know, for example, that alcohol and guns don’t mix, but we don’t know precisely what laws would be most effective in reducing the resulting toll. Similar investments in reducing other kinds of accidental deaths have been very effective.

RON SCHALOW: Port Whine, Part 4 — Failing Up

Rob Port is hot, and not just because his defroster is stuck on high in the minivan, and certainly not due to any physical activity. The Forum Communications golden boy is moving on up to the east side of Minot, to the land of Oley, Roscoe and the stockyards. Or so I’ve heard. No one knows why. He’s a great guy.

Why, just a few days ago, he discovered that addicts aren’t necessarily bad people, and wrote about it, so the ignorant among us could hear the good news. It was a gutsy move, since only 11 people thought addicts were bad people in the first place. He’s a tremendous barometer of societal phenomenon already realized and an insignificant advocate for the downtrodden. He’s a great guy.

Last week, among other things, Port made the top five of writers (cough) to be considered for the honor of Fargo’s Best Columnist, as determined by the always hammered on sloe gin supermellow guy on the 18th floor, who thinks there is an 18th floor in the Forum building. Trump sees it.

Obie, as he likes people to yell when addressing him, was to pick five names out of a Fedora once owned by Harry Belafonte. Obie swiped it in the ’60s from an ancient hat check with poor security, so this wasn’t willy-nilly decision making. Harry is still the man, man. Anyway, five names adhered to Obie’s sticky fingers first dip, and that was that. Tremendous. Trust me.

Rob beat out Jack Zaleski, Jane Ahlin, Jessie Veeder, Tony Bender, Tammy Swift, Lloyd Omdahl, Jon Hauser, Steve Stark and everyone else considered a regular columnist and omitted from the list. SOB’s, the lot of them. Escort them to the nearest locker room.

Port writes at the same level that our American president, the most powerful man on Earth, speaks, thinks and Tweets, which is no small feat. It’s huge. Believe me. So, to win the title would be timely, especially since his Forum-owned blog is down 78 percent since it peaked last December, when Port was publishing the anti-Native propaganda churned out by Energy Transfer Partners hired goons, mercenaries with guns, keyboards and Port’s email address.

Racism sells, in case you were wondering. Port knows. Trump knows. Standing Rock knows. And now, Puerto Rico knows. The kid can’t understand what black people are protesting. What’s with the taking a knee thing? Port thinks the NFL players are just trying to wind up the president and have no true grievance, when they are giving Joe bone spurs draft dodger a big f*** you because they live in the real world. Maybe look things up before you write an ignorant post, Port. But why start now.

Hardcore Libertarians don’t believe any group should get special protection, even if the need is glaring, because it means bigger government. Port claims to be a Libertarian, although I’m not sure what species he is, to be certain. Anyway, to cover for this gaping flaw in Libertarian ideology, he simply claims that no problem exists. Blacks should be happy to have it so good. If you’re going to face discrimination, this a great country to face it in. Aren’t we tremendous, with no flaws. Believe me.

The no evidence argument is used to rationalize bigotry against the LGBT community and refugees, too. It’s all purpose. If Port can’t see it from his porch, it ain’t happening.

And the North Dakota Petroleum Council knows all about Port. Why do you think it invited Robbie to speak at its annual hoedown? Because it likes the cut of his jib? Because he’s honest? They know he’s not, and that’s the part they like, especially since he’s infected the bloodstream of the expansive Forum Company. What is Port going talk about? Alternate facts? He doesn’t know anything about the oil industry. Trump just figured out that islands are surrounded by water, and he’s the one in charge.

It doesn’t matter. Port ignored all of the rules and published everything he was fed during the pipeline protests. He took big bites. Towns burn down and citizens die. Port excuses it. Exployees die at unheard of rates. Port excuses it. Spills, leaks and tax cuts. Port writes what he is told. So, the North Dakota Petroleum Council is rewarding the lad. I suggest a monstrous speaking fee, a large bar of gold and a kiss on the lips from Harold Hamm. He’s worth it. He’s terrific. He’s a great guy.

So, Rob is up for “best columnist,” and speaking gibberish to the millionaires who haven’t bolted for the hotel bar. The topper is getting another hour to spout on the Forum company owned WDAY-AM, and he doesn’t even have to leave the comfort of somebody’s home in Minot, to be the antithesis of an expert. On everything. He is the only living person to make money as a nonexpert. On everything.

Plus, now, Rob can give his buddy, Congressman Kevin Cramer, more free air time, to complain about the media. Two ideologues in a pod. Then, Kev chalks it up as a Town Hall. Thanks, but I would rather be lied to in person.

It was only a few years ago that Port was shoeing mules at the local Home of Economy. Or something. I’m not sure. He could have been in the toaster department. I recall a lot of toasters in that place. In my youth, I used to ride my bike there to buy nails. There was a lot of wood in those days that didn’t have nails in it.

At one point, Rob worked for his dad, which seems harmless enough, but when Sen. Heidi Heitkamp announced on her brother’s radio show that she was running for re-election, Port called it the “stench of nepotism.” He has an unnatural fixation with Heidi. If she votes how Port wants, she’s a cold calculating politician trying to fool the good folks of North Dakota. The other way, Heitkamp is a loony leftist. He has to write about something, I suppose.

And now, the Port is branching out into giving parental advice. He suggests less parenting, which I don’t think is a problem, and letting the kids cut the grass. Who is stopping them? Big government? The free market? Eco zealots? It’s likely in the Libertarian handbook.

I don’t know where he came to deny global warming. Maybe from the Koch’s, who hired Sarah Palin, not THE Sarah Palin, to indoctrinate him as a pup. He also likes to deny obvious hate crimes, right-wing violence, radiation and outhouses. He’s quite concerned that women, especially those feminists, are out to destroy white men, by getting educated, falsifying their pay stubs and kidding around with rape allegations.

More Port to come. He’s like sludge at the bottom of the ocean. Plentiful.

I will be taking a knee out by the street, and then attempting to get up.

 

RON SCHALOW: Picky Patriotism

“I pledge allegiance to the Flag of the United States of America, and to the Republic for which it stands, one Nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.”

We would chant this oath every morning in the first grade in 1962. I was happy to do it, not that I had a choice. Stand up, face the flag, put the right hand over the heart and recite.

Some of it made sense. A little context would have helped. Like, why was this necessary? I wasn’t going anywhere. Crossing the street was only tolerated at certain intersections. Were we being indoctrinated for future manipulation? I trusted my teacher that I wasn’t participating in anything subversive. She looked honorable.

The honorable Miss Johnson was the only teacher to ever give me an F. I was asking for it. I was born disgruntled. She gave us a coloring project, which was insulting. I knew how to color. I had been coloring for ages. Let’s get this education thing on the road, miss. So, I did the whole picture in black and I didn’t stay in the lines. It was my Goya period. Deal with that, Miss Johnson! I nonviolently demonstrated against wasting my time. As it turns out, I wasn’t the first smart@$$ 6-year-old she had run across. Hoisted by my own pencil case.

Actually, I don’t think I ever had a pencil case, or anything that took more than one Trump-sized hand to carry home. Now, grade 2 grunts are lugging around backpacks sized for Navy Seals going on a long mission. Are they secretly bivouacking on a regular basis?

Anyway, we did the pledge, practiced our cursive, got fed some fictional history, tried not to sniff the freshly mimeographed papers, sang off-key about some girl over the ocean and recessed to the playground to hone our survival instincts.

I don’t recall any fatalities, but plenty of small bodies flew off the merry-go-round and bit the dust. Technology hadn’t yet determined the relationship between speed, mass and gravel. And, luckily, we weren’t allowed to have ACL’s at the time.

We could almost make that disk fly — and tried — but we were physics ignorant. Still, had a generator been hooked up, when the pushers reached top speed, before they fell from exhaustion and vomited, we could have lit up south Minot, which was smaller at the time. Very doable.

The metal jungle gym was fun, until some jerk stole one of the highest crossbars, and my muscle memorization had my hand flailing in the air, and I face planted into the hard dirt. I think they tamped down the gravel and soil at night. Fun times.

I made no pledges to those lethal implements, though, but centrifugal forces in my brain have forced a memory drift to the dangerous side of elementary school.

I don’t recall when we stopped doing the pledge every morning. Most likely, as soon as we were old enough to understand the meaning. And what was it with the repetition? Was there a danger of some young punk changing sides in the middle of the night? They never said who was on the other side when we were at our oathing peak.

The president only has to recite his oath of office once, and he has more people in his administration who can speak Russian than can understand Trumpian. Try to find a Rosetta Stone language lesson that unravels ravings in Trumpian.

Was J. Edgar Hoover satisfied that the pledges took hold, even though one-third of grade 1 was saying invisible, and the other two-thirds were looking out the window? Evidently.

So, anyway, the pledge of allegiance faded out of my life. At least I wasn’t required to say it 200 times per year anymore. But\ if pledging and staring was the requirement for patriotism, I was patrioted up to my eyeballs.

Worth noting. That school was a fortress, so naturally it was demolished. Stupidity.

Then, decades later, some people took offense at some behavior displayed while the anthem was being played, so I figured I better watch myself a little closer.

I mostly know what to do when the National Anthem is played, although it’s not required by law. Most people do, but it’s hardly a given that the majority of people in the vicinity will do as they were taught, or mime the person next to them.

Stand up, dammit. Remove your hat, unless you’re wearing one of those giant Kentucky Derby ladies hats. Those are allowed, for some reason. Probably because they need to be stapled to the head. Fortunately, I have no hats bigger than a manhole cover.

Put your right hand over your heart. And even though you aren’t supposed to have anything in your hands during the anthem, you may hold your hat in your right hand and place it over your heart. Don’t even think about removing your hand until after the last note.

Look at the flag throughout the anthem. Don’t turn around and visit with your friend you saw an hour ago. Don’t monkey around with your phone, or whatever else that’s been invented since last week.

Watch the singer if there is no flag. No flag? Talk about no respect. Borrow one from Perkin’s for crissakes. They’ve been using the American flag improperly as a marketing tool, anyway. And they aren’t the only ones. Do you think the NFL whips out a flag the size of a wheat field every game because they’re so damn patriotic? Nope. They are working on your emotions. Hundreds of companies use the American flag as a prop. Not cool.

Shut the hell up!

No eating or drinking during the song. And do not set your bratwurst on the head of the person in front of you, even it is as flat a coffee table.

Stop chewing your gum until the anthem is over. You can leave it in your mouth, but don’t chew, if you know what’s good for you. I think you can swallow it, but not in a showy way.

Sing along if you want, but I would prefer it if you didn’t. Everyone would rather if you didn’t. You are not a good singer, and if anyone tells you otherwise, they’re lying.

Remove your sunglasses. This one got me. Of course, I won’t be able to see the flag, which seems counterproductive, but I don’t make the rules. And since glasses don’t cost seven times more than my first car, if you order them online, I also have pairs with 10 percent and 50 percent tint. I have no clue what the ruling is on those. I think I may lose points for vanity.

Cheering after the song is over is not allowed. No applause, please, you commie. You could claim that you’re actually clapping for the game that is about to begin, and not Beyonce, but we all know better. Clap for the fly-over, if you wish, if you can afford a seat for a game that gets the Air Force involved.

Airliners frequently fly over Fargo sports fields. Cheer if you don’t care if other people think you’re loopy.

Don’t put your hand over your heart or salute a foreign flag, you traitor. Drones could be watching.

No hiding in the bathroom, or behind a skinny tree.

Lastly, do not allow a large green parrot to sit your shoulder, their perch of preference, and certainly no type of waterfowl. No birds is a good rule of thumb.

So, it’s clear that everyone has disrespected the flag. What’s your beef? Is there something you’re protesting? Unpatriotic jerk!

Of course, there are no laws requiring a citizen to respect the flag, but don’t expect to be employed if you’re caught with a finger in your ear on the big screen while the rockets red glare.

We could discuss all of the events where the National Anthem is played and the flag is displayed, but let’s focus on football.

We’ve established that everyone in the stands is a turncoat, but what about the players, at all levels?

For starters, the anthem is rarely played before any game below the varsity level. What’s their problem? You spend your youngest years repeatedly pledging allegiance, and then you have to be talented enough to make the varsity team to rate our national song. It seems arbitrary to me. How rebellious to ignore patriotic protocol. Very cheeky.

When the anthem is played, society demands you behave in a certain way, but not playing it all is acceptable? It seems so.

When the music starts, how many players have their hands grasping the front of their shoulder pads, or have their arms to their sides, or are talking, or looking around? Are they chewing gum or continuing with their warmups. How many are so bright, they have wear shades?

Who decided that one particular violation of the rules of National Anthem etiquette is more deplorable than all of the others?

Who decided that 99.9 percent of anthem rule violations are committed scorn free, but raising a fist, or taking knee, is an unforgivable unpatriotic sin?

Several other flag offenses worth noting

  • Our flag is not a decoration, people. If you want blue, white and red stripes for your fabulous event, buy the bunting, and make sure the blue stripe is on top.
  • It is not to be used for advertising. No flag cushions, handkerchiefs, napkins, boxes, paper plates or anything that will discarded after use.
  • The flag is not a costume or clothing. Duck Dynasty hillbillies shouldn’t be using the flag as a headband to absorb hillbilly sweat. Chris Christie should not be wearing a tank top with the image of the flag on it, for more reasons than one. No Spandex. No nothing for civilians. The Tea Party abused this encoded rule of flag decorum with abandon.

“Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.”

And he who thinks that this country is fair for everyone, and nobody has any justifiable grievances, continue to bark in your American flag panties.

RON SCHALOW: The Men In The High Tower

The North Dakota Republican Party put all of their gold coins on the Camarillo White Horse in the 5th race on the 7th fairway.

“North Dakotans elected President Trump because he promised to enact policies that would improve our economy, make our country safer, and improve the lives of folks here at home,” said North Dakota GOP Chairman Kelly Armstrong. — Dunn County Extra

I see. A series of Trump promises clinched the three electoral votes.
“Chairman Armstrong and local GOP leaders highlighted the importance of electing North Dakota officials willing to implement President Trump’s agenda.” — Dunn County Extra

Does anyone know what Trump’s agenda is?

“Armstrong argued the strengthening national economy and job growth since President Donald Trump took office demonstrates his “agenda of making American great again is working, and it’s working in North Dakota.” — Bismarck Tribune

Well, that’s not true, but it is the Trump era.

State Sen. Kelly Armstrong of Dickinson, chairman of the state Republican Party, said North Dakota is a conservative state and we deserve elected officials who represent our values.” — Bismarck Tribune

We do.

So, the North Dakota Republican Party bends their knee to the mad king and pledges fealty to the 71 year old child.

Bold move, on the part of the North Dakota Republicans, to latch unabashedly to the 16 foot “Made in Bangladesh” red silk necktie of Donnie John. Because he exemplifies North Dakota “values.” Does he?

It’s especially gutsy, considering Trump’s first few months of tweeting and yelling at the wind and passing cars. I can’t even imagine how many more lies, and failures, 45 will rack up in the next 14 months.

Of course, there are pluses to marrying your party to a sociopathic narcissist. If you’re selling your soul to the Prince of Darkness’s half wit brother-in-law, there better be.

The statute of limitations has solved Trump’s p**** grabbing assaults, and his walking through the dressing rooms of teen girls was just creepy, although it should be a felony. So, the grabber isn’t technically a sex offender. Whew! The grabber isn’t technically a sex offender, would look great on a bumper sticker or t-shirt. Maybe a hat.

It will be cheap to repair Texas and Louisiana, after the hurricane Harvey disaster, since Trump has this silly habit of not paying contractors. One less thing to worry about. Hopefully, nobody catches on before Florida needs remodeling. And Oregon, Idaho, and Montana burn to the ground. Trump likes states that don’t burn to the ground, or get 5 feet of rain on his vacation. Losers.

And, even though storms are becoming more frequent and violent, due to warmer oceans and air temperatures, it doesn’t matter, because Donnie John doesn’t believe in global warming, which matches up nicely with the science denial of the North Dakota Republican Party, and their shills. He actually seems to be taking pride in the record breaking scale of the storms.

We can easily afford another $500 billion, or a trillion dollars, more in disaster expenses per year. Coal jobs have been saved, though, by golly. I think five. Maybe six. The market for skinny chickens still hasn’t recovered.

It turns out that kicking 800,000 young people out of America, and deporting them to a country where they have never lived is “compassionate,” which a saleable word, as opposed to “cruel,” which makes Republican values seem mean. Trump has the best words. Lucky that.

Donnie can get the best deals on foreign made Tiki torches. Great deals. And when the midnight parade has finished, and the town is officially terrorized, the bamboo novelty items can be repurposed to light up the next synagogue on the list. They are reusable and make great gifts for your more paranoid and bigoted constituents.

Trump came. He saw. He proclaimed North Dakota to have 5,634,000 citizens, which breaks a record and will put strain on all government services, which calls for another tax cut for the oil companies, which the ND GOP denies doing, but we wrote it down. On good quality paper. They did it, at the expense of the people who actually live here. Sad.

Teleprompters are great again. Trump chooses to watch TV on them, though, which lowers their effectiveness.
The president comes pre-tinted, ready for any occasion, where looks aren’t an issue. And should you get trapped in an elevator with the loco hombre, his hair can be weaved into a 60 foot ladder.

Don John has been keeping our sole congressman pleased. For perverse political reasons, Kevin Cramer latched onto the juicy rear end of the lumpen KFC fed beast like a leech several years ago, and suctions in the rich plasma by the quart. It keeps him off the streets at night.
Birds nests have made a comeback as headwear. The loser birds aren’t happy. Sad.

Alternate facts are the in thing because of 45, and he’ll sell you a dozen Trump brand facts for the low low price of $1,995. Tell a lie, over and over, and there is no downside, as long as it is Trump authorized.

It’s hard to be humble when you’re Trumpian in every way. Boasting about your wealth and your great stuff, or your sweet parking spot, used to be frowned upon in this state. No more. Brag away. You may get punched out quite often, until everyone learns the new rules, and then by people who don’t care for the new rules, but keep it up…

Intellect is out, so no worries if some N.D. lawmakers haven’t had much book lernin’. “We’re doing everything we can, but you have a very serious drought,” continued Trump, who also noted that he did not know that droughts could happen in areas “this far north” in the United States. (Vibe) He learned that on a statue. And where the hell are the penguins? Daddy, I came to see the penguins, moans Ivanka.

Don is cutting way back on refugees allowed into the U.S., and established the Muslim ban. Only 7 people in the world qualify, under Trump rules, to simply immigrate to the United States, including the folks who were born here.

Plus, the 800,000 mostly brown younglings he’s chucking out. It adds up. This leaves very little for our own bigots to do. Scapegoats will be needed. Never mind. White nationalists still have the Natives to kick around.

“The Wall” will solve nothing, except provide a little shade for tired Border Patrol agents. A few trees would have resolved that issue. It’s still a good deceitful (nobody cares) talking point for Aryan legislators, though. Mexico isn’t paying for it, but keep repeating it.
Lies. Pshaw. The Washington Post calculated that Trump made 492 false or misleading statements in his first 100 days. Doesn’t matter. Fake news. “Straight talk,” is what it really is, according to N.D. Governor Doug Burgum, who is well known to be a smart human. Can it be possible that he is actually falling for Trump’s bull$#!*? I doubt it.

It isn’t politically correct for a North Dakota Republican to suggest that the big spongy dope tells lies. The mob believes Fox and Friends as translated by Wonderbread, his handle on Stormfront.

Russia. Russia. Russia. She get’s everything. We love Putin, and who cares if they screwed around with our election system? Get over it. Republicans found a way to get past piddly things, like tampering. It’s Obama who is the enemy. He climbed Trump Tower and installed bugs, among other things, like being black. Remember that. Blame Americans first.

Shame. What shame? It no longer exists, and a lot of emotional stress is washed away. Some in the North Dakota GOP already had no shame, so they’re good with Trump, but now the rest can carry on accordingly.

Voter fraud is a thing. DJ said so. Millions falsely voted for that pantsuited Clinton woman. And all of the criminals are poor and brown. If anyone knows about fraud, it’s the Donald. Everybody who ponied up the $30,000 to enroll in Trump University is now wealthy. Honest. Believe me.

And 45 already screwed over the LGBT community, so denying the group rights and protections at the state level will be much easier.
Trump’s trillion dollar infrastructure plan (cough) involves selling off publicly owned assets and expecting corporations to upgrade and maintain the road, bridge, or park. It’s not funny, so quit smirking.

Taboo for right-wingers, who think everything is a meritocracy, when hardly anything is, nepotism is back in vogue. If only TJ had a bigger family, so more unqualified people could wander through Oval office meetings.

We’re also going to lower corporate taxes, without increasing the deficit. Some trickling, they say will happen in some circles. It’s not funny, so quit smirking.

North Dakota Republicans need to keep fighting, along with clueless, to take health coverage away from millions of low-income workers. What is this anyway? A developed country?

Hang in there, ND GOP. Doughboy might not be insane, and a billionaire from New York is not one of the east coast elites.
Good-bye Mar-a-Lago. I hope hurricane Irma misses everything else.

RON SCHALOW: The White Nationalist Next Door

Several days after my birth, we were driving home, up the big Third Street hill in Minot, and I was listening to Eisenhower speechify on the radio. It was a bit staticy, but I remember it like it was just several minutes ago. Frankly, he was boring.

President Ike was still in his first term and pledged to remain ever steamed at the Nazis, until flowers bloomed on the moon, at minimum. He was in the business of killing them not many years before becoming president, so Eisenhower didn’t have mixed feelings about Nazis. They were always bad. NOBODY compared. Over 400,000 Americans died in that war.

“During World War II, we we rushed to develop nuclear weapons because we were trying to defeat the Nazis, who, fun fact, pretty much all Americans thought were bad at the time.” — John Oliver

We liked Ike. He was stable, sane and looked better than fat@$$ Don in a golf outfit.  Eisenhower never tweeted and didn’t lie every 15 minutes. At the time, we had no idea that Dwight WASN’T getting up in the middle of the night to cuss out various people and talk smack on the White House party line. He behaved normally, to my recollection, and the clincher for me, Ike and I, looked liked twins when I was 3 days old. Bald as a Brunswick bowling ball and a pate as smooth as a newborn goat. My eyesight wasn’t fully operative, yet.

In 1957, the former general sent the National Guard into Arkansas, backed up by Fargo’s Judge Ronald Davies, to enable the Little Rock Nine, black youths, to safely attend school with the white kids. Dwight stepped up and did the right thing. Many whites weren’t happy. Too many still aren’t.

Dwight had dignity, and he was a tough SOB. Had Eisenhower witnessed the spectacle of Donald Trumps’s bat$#!* insane hee-haw tribalist airing of grievances for 77 minutes (all that was missing was the Festivus pole and the feats of strength) in Arizona, he would have latched onto Donnie John’s testicles with a pair of needle nose pliers and squeezed until 45 coughed up the keys to the country.

And if he knew that Trump was pandering to the tiki tots and their ideological inbred cousins, providing aid and comfort to the enemy, Ike would have done cool things, not approved by the Geneva Conventions, to Donnie with his two iron.

“You had a group on one side that was bad and you had a group on the other side that was also very violent. nobody wants to say it, but I will say it right now.” — D. Trump

Nobody who stands up to heavily armed white supremacists is on any other side except good, but the alt-right knew how to interpret the president’s words. Fifty percent is a win for these @$$holes.

Many tried to convince us that hundreds were just there to to gaze into the bronze nostrils of Gen. Lee’s horse, Traveller, just one more time. Such malarkey.

And there are those like Fargo’s Scott Hennen, the frothing radio voice of the tattered fringe right over several blocks in downtown Fargo, who thought the sight of a marching herd of Nazis carrying kitschy Polynesian style torches and chanting racist favorites in an American city was a partisan issue. Maybe to his listeners, and Hennen’s twisted mind, but I would still like to think that most Republicans are anti-white supremacy. And certainly they are against a terrorist attacks, even if the perpetrator isn’t Muslim. Aren’t they?

Unfortunately, in North Dakota, Republican politicians are inclined to attach their campaigns to the mad king. Evidently, the Trumpster fire is still a popular figure with the N.D. GOP and its voters. And it boils to white identity politics, which isn’t new but was relegated to damp rock undersides with the other slimy critters.

Generally, being a racist wasn’t something you wanted to advertise. At least not in this state.

Then along comes the Trump idiot, hitting all of the right notes, for a range of bigots on the spectrum.

Mexicans are rapists, we’re going to build the best wall to keep them out. We’re going to make it so that an immigrant has to have a Nobel prize and be a gold medal Olympic pole vaulter in order to meet the new requirements for entry. The Muslim ban, that made no sense. Birtherism, that was a racial lie. Refugees can wait a few more years because the numbers to be allowed in have been greatly reduced. Transgender people can no longer serve in the military. A stone cold racist and cruel dick is given a presidential pardon. The dip praises a CNN pundit who was fired for tweeting a Nazi slogan. Donnie uses Pocahontas as a slur.  He’s currently screwing with the Dreamers. And then the equivocation on Nazis.

“Jews will not replace us, blood and soil, heil Trump, one people, one nation, end immigration, White Lives Matter, f**k you, fa**ots, and “Go the f**k back to Africa.” Some right-wing demonstrators called specific people “ni**ers” or “fa**ots.” Yes, good people.

“This city is run by Jewish communists and criminal ni**ers,” one @$$hole told Vice News’ Elspeth Reeve.

“As Jews prayed at a local synagogue, Congregation Beth Israel, men dressed in fatigues carrying semiautomatic rifles stood across the street, according to the temple’s president. Nazi websites posted a call to burn their building. As a precautionary measure, congregants had removed their Torah scrolls and exited through the back of the building when they were done praying.” — Reform Judaism

“For my part, if I should ever get the chance to confront Richard Spencer (white supremacist honcho), I think I’d conclude my cross-examination with the proposition that by his views and actions he had implicitly renounced his American citizenship and should therefore be deported.” — Steven Hayward, libertarian and conservative author

So, our North Dakota Republicans aren’t running away from this racist in the Oval Office and some who have called for ethnic cleansing. Their constituents evidently find Trump just swell. But, don’t believe me. Forum Communications employs a shill boy blogger, who carries vast amount of oil for his legislative pals, and was responsible for this headline:

“Port: ND politicos are treating Trump like an election year asset”

“Maybe Trump isn’t the political liability some would like us to think. Some will say otherwise, but how the politicians place their bets speaks louder than words,” Port wrote.

Sounds about right. We’ve been hearing the high-pitched squeals, only audible to beagles, complaining about migrant workers, refugees, Native Americans and the LGBT community for years, and someone has been reassuring those with concerns about keeping these groups in check. Some descendants of Europeans feel that white Christian identity is being threatened by ethnic diversity and multiculturalism.

Here’s what Port had to say before the election and prior to his forced Trump brand blood transfusion:

  • “While the left overplays the race card, Trump seems content to pander to actual paranoid racists.”
  • “Trump knows exactly how dumb his supporters are and has manipulated their ignorance to great effect.”
  • “The 2016 election for president now looks to be a competition between corrupt, bought off Clintonism and the former host of “Celebrity Apprentice” whose “America first” campaign has taken on the overtones of a modern sort of fascism.”

Perhaps the next time a legislative candidate knocks on your door, be sure to look through peephole and if you see a torch, latch the deadbolt.

“Since my boyhood, I had accepted without qualification the right to equality before the law of all citizens of this country, whatever their race or color or creed. In World War II, I had affirmed my belief in this principle through orders desegregating many Red Cross clubs, while during some stages of the fighting, I had sent into previous all-white units Negro replacements who not only fought well but also encountered little or no resentment from their comrades.” — D.D. Eisenhower

RON SCHALOW: Nazis Wear Lederhosen And Dance Funny

While browsing through pictures of the racists who $#!* on Charlottesville, Va., and who misappropriated a perfectly innocent backyard implement for lighting ambiance and the repellent of some insects (for evil and poorly choreographed parading, which probably voided the damn warranty), I noticed a few things.

This was the least superior gaggle of goose steppers that could have been scrounged up. Evidently a secondhand store, a J. Crew, Comicon, Army surplus store, Bed Bath & Beyond, and a postrally Sturgis pawn shop, all blew up in a another dimension and vomited up a mess of white supremacist @$$holes, with bad haircuts.

As one of the 97 percent in Fargo who could claim to be Aryan, these mutts of doubtful pedigree weren’t the cream of the crop, as far as descendants of northern Europeans go. I can see why most of them would be self-conscience. I’m no prize, but good lord. Have these orcs never heard of a dry cleaner, a washing machine or an iron?

I’ve watched numerous documentaries on the KKK, and I have yet to see one dude who was anything but unattractive to the point of scaring the hideous. David Duke is supposed be their most presentable? I don’t see it. Is that why they wear the laundry on their head? The rest of them should probably consider concealing their faces, too. Perhaps with backward motorcycle helmets.

Furthermore, I think most of these clowns should be spitting into a test tube and mailing the sample ASAP to 23andMe, to at least get the Neanderthal percentage, and hope they’re officially a modern man. As for the bloodlines, I wouldn’t want to besmirch any race by claiming a relation to these saps, but let’s just say, there are some blue contact lenses on a few orbs. And few eyes have stared at the sun too long.

And, for the record, Black Lives Matter isn’t comparable to any of these hateful groups.

Antifa is not nearly as violent as the alt-right, although I don’t see why breaking windows is a thing. Anarchist seems to be on the resume. They didn’t make up more than a fraction of the anti-hate protesters in Charlottesville. Black-clad persons with black bandanas over their faces didn’t show up in many photos.

There is no such thing as the alt-left.

The Nazis were not Bernie Sanders-type socialists, for crissakes.

The president seems be to under the impression that all of the protestors against the alt-right were from the left. How would he know? He doesn’t know anything else. Are conservatives not anti-Nazi? It would seem odd if they weren’t. It’s peculiar enough that Trump is a Nazi apologist, but my dad was a Nixon man in 1960, and he sure wasn’t any fan of Nazis, since his generation lost a lot of people destroying Hitler for the rest of us.

There seems to be a lot of lunkheads in North Dakota cheering on the guys with the Nazi and Confederate flags, though. The comment sections are full of them. If these people think this country ever was a white’s only club, they are as clueless as those who think history is learned from a statue.

So now this Peter Tefft character, who claims to be merely an activist for whites (whatever our gripes) — although he was seen playing with the other kids in the circle of hell with the worst parking — is thinking about holding a Charlotteville type rally in Fargo. This has been said many times, but it bears repeating; If you wander by a group skipping along to the tune of, “the Jews won’t replace us,” and join them, you’re not a good person.

Of course, the usual media suspects are doing their best to forget what a white supremacist stands for, and providing rationalizations for everything, including Trump. KVLY, of course; Scott Hennen, who is livid most of the time, anyway; and the Forum’s little blogger, Rob Port.

Port is deathly afraid that violence will silence the alt-right voice because nobody knows what white nationalists stand for. The only one silenced in Charlotteville was Heather Heyer, but he doesn’t mention her in his Sunday (cough) column. Or the injured in the terrorist attack. Such a phony. Such a hypocrite.

Voldeport wants everyone to sit in a crop circle, hold hands and listen to — with wide eyes — what he has called political speech. And when the Nazis are finished, they sit down with their flags of the losers and listen politely while speakers explain why we aren’t going to ship all very nonwhite’s “somewhere” or kill them because they make you feel uncomfortable. Then, we’ll all hug, go have a beer, braid some hair and call it a day.

It’s not OK to punch a Nazi, Port says. Some people claim that it is OK, he claims, without naming anyone. Well, here’s one for you. David Fransen is saying it was OK (right on Hennen’s Facebook page — below) to kill Heather Heyer. Can I punch him or does that upset your tender sensibilities, Port? Right-wing terrorism. Do you have the stones to admit that much?

Port was the same idiot who spent many months doing what he could to denigrate Native Americans, using false propaganda he was fed like strained peaches. He also wants to know (many times) what refugees are costing us (dog whistle), even though it’s likely nothing. But, don’t call him a bigot. Sad.

Port. You’re bigot, and possibly a churlish J. R. R. Tolkien character who often forgets to wear pants.

I’m curious to see how many Fargoans who identify with the swastika will come out to protest the Jews, and whoever else they don’t like, with this Tefft kid, although I don’t think he is bright enough to pull it off. Will they use modern technology like flashlights. And how many lawmakers will show? Especially those who made common cause with the not well-improvised explosive device in the oval office.

Tina Fey suggests eating a cake

“And then next time, when you see a bunch of white boys, boys in polo shirts screaming about taking our country back, and you want to scream, ‘It’s not our country — we stole it. We stole it from the Native Americans. And when they have a peaceful protest at Standing Rock, we shoot at them with rubber bullets. But we let you chinless turds march through the streets with semiautomatic weapons.’ When you want to yell that, don’t yell it at the Klan, Colin. Yell it into the cake. Then, when Ann Coulter crawls out of her roach motel, and says, ‘Uh, antifa attacked Republicans in Berkeley,’ and you’re like, ‘OK, yard sale Barbie, but the other side is Nazis and Klansmen. And also, who drove the car into the crowd? Hillary’s e-mails?’”

###

“Heather Heyer was not on the street in Charlottesville, Va., as an innocent bystander. She was there as an agitator, a counterprotester. She was with a group of anti-Americans who were demanding that you agree with them. If you didn’t agree with them, they refer to you as a Nazi and as a Fascist. Having a bunch of white thugs gathering and chanting racial slurs and threats did nothing but play directly into to the hands of the group that included Heather Heyer.” — David Fransen, Aberdeen, S.D.

RON SCHALOW — If The Pillowcase Fits …

A few years ago, before the Fargo Forum’s Rob Port banned me from his brain cell-resistant Sayanything blog Facebook page, I found myself politely conversing, for my part, with a Grand Forks member of the III percent right-wing militia group. He cursed like a wet pirate with R-rated dagger wounds. I was soooo frightened, but I pulled myself together with a nice glass of milk.

If you look at the III percent website, they’re armed, have scary logos and are supposedly prepared to attack, if our government strays from their idea of how our government should operate. You know, the tyranny thing. They are ready to kill police, soldiers and, oh, they are so unready. The poor traitorous dears.

Anyway, being a curious guy, I asked, what date are you characters planning to pounce? I would like to get situated on my porch, with a lawn chair and beverage, and watch the action. I was told that it was none of my business, but I would be first to get my throat cut, along with other liberals. I guess they’re trying to conserve bullets.

Well, OK then. Seems harsh, but the liberal doesn’t rub off, so a minority in North Dakota I shall be. F you III percent dude and all of your pets.

They claim that race isn’t an issue, but their membership spiked when Obama was elected and again when Black Lives Matters came to being. So, race is kinda involved.

I don’t know if any these III percent mutts, or other militia species, went to Charlottesville, Va., and stood with the white supremacists, white nationalists, the KKK, neo-Nazis, alt-righters and other feral hate groups that figured out Google maps and had extra torches on hand.

There are no rationalizations for ugly white supremacists toting long guns, reprehensible props and flags of enemies, walking through an American city, although Rob Port, Scott Hennen and plenty of others are trying. NO, the white supremacists and the counter demonstrators are NOT just two sides of the same coin.

Excusing overt racism is despicable and puts the apologist in the same bunker as the other deep thinkers, staring at ammo, freeze-dried diced beef and the chemical toilet. Enjoy.

Racism is an American pastime, and it still permeates North Dakota. Did you think that Pete Tefft was our only white supremacist? Good grief. North Dakota is infested with white supremacists, white nationalists, racists, bigots, alt-righters and others in the same ideological subdivision.

They need to be rooted out — and outed. Whether that turns out to be a useful strategy, or people take it as a compliment, and a benefit to their reputation, at least we’ll know who is who.

Recent studies have determined that right-wing terrorism has been more dangerous to U.S. citizens living in the homeland than any Muslim-related terror. Yet, we spend many billions specifically earmarked to keep tabs on Islamic extremists, but Republicans in Congress kill any efforts to deal with the right-wing threat. It’s quite stupid.

Especially important to name are those in charge. Racists that sit on city councils, hold legislative seats, work for the government and the loudmouths who have a daily radio or print presence. I’ve already named a couple.

North Dakota is one the most homogenous states in the union, but there are still Native Americans to kick around, as they always have been. The stereotypes never change, and we’re lucky enough to have a blogger willing to smear the First People at the drop of a Twinkie. His blog numbers go way up whenever the weasel trots out his bigotry and aims at the Natives, LGBTQ or refugees. Blogboy will claim so many of his fans are falsely labeled as racists or bigots, but I say… if the pillowcase fits, pal …

I think that Russian president groper has established where he stands. And we have so many of our lawmakers, at every level, who find Trump’s white friendly schtick, a dream come true. After eight years of suffering, somehow through competent governess, it’s good to get the old Nazi flag out the closet for the first time and march for the right to have separate water fountains once again.

So, disavow, sincerely, the supremacy bull$#!*, you North Dakota D.C. reps, leaders in our state executive branch, legislators, mayors, council people, commissioners, or prepare to be outed. As Sam Kinison screamed at a sweaty Rodney Dangerfield, “SAY IT! SAY IT!”

Then, you can brag or complain.