Clint Eastwood's an idiot.

Clinty says this is a "sad time in history." He's decided that he's okay with der Hair Fuehrer's racism, because it wasn't racism when Clinty was growing up.

 

Clint, you know what's a sad time in history?

 

--being a world-famous black woman who can't sleep in the hotel where the just performed.

--having Frank Sinatra browbeat the hotel manager for a room...only to have the hotel management burn all the bedding, right down to the mattress, as soon as you're out, because a black woman slept there.

 

-- "blacks only" water fountains.

 

--"separate but equal" schools that aren't equal.

 

--three white kids murdered and burned in their car for helping black people register to vote.

 

--black people being hanged for trying to vote.

 

--black churches firebombed.

"Get over it."

"When I grew up, those things weren't called racist."

 

 No? Maybe not by you. Things people were able to get away with when you grew up are unacceptable now. You need to "get over it. "

 

But maybe your Dirty Harry was right: "A man's gotta know his limitations."

 

 I think we just found the extent of yours.

A Scumbag Gets His Due (well, some of it).

In the early days of this blog, I wrote about this former acquaintance of mine who has earned the nickname Scumbag several times over.

While looking through the Google's brain for other people I knew in Tallahassee back in the day, I went looking to see if Scumbag was still in trouble with the law.

Didn't expect the results I got, but I wasn't terribly surprised. He is a Scumbag, after all--the guy who sat and watched TV while his recently-exed fiancee' tried to kill herself with an overdose. The guy who squealed when he got busted by ATF when he tried to sell an illegally-assembled Uzi to undercover agents. The guy who caused a rollover crash on Appalachee Parkway in Tallahassee by changing lanes without looking or signalling; a car with several girls climbed the guardrail at the railroad overpass not far from the State Capitol building. He didn't bother to stop and check on them despite having bragged about being an EMT (he also said he'd been a Navy SEAL, fought in Iraq in 1991, got Gulf War Syndrome, was taught Japanese swordfighting by Musashi himself, and that he's a powerful warlock. Heh.).

He was convicted on the gun charge, went to prison for a few years in 1997, and appealed the decision all through the '00s, claiming his civil rights had been violated. Apparently there are some other interesting bits on his rap sheet...but his most recent criminal enterprise took the cake and burned the freaking bakery down.

He and his ex-girlfriend were arrested in June of 2012 for multiple instances of sexual assault upon a 14 year old girl.

He was charged with TWENTY-FIVE counts of sexual assault on a juvenile and another 25 for possession of porn. His ex got 5 counts of sexual assault on a minor.

Once I stopped gloating that his ass was arrested (yet again), I asked the Great Google (pbuh) whether Scumbag had gone to trial.

Why, yes. Yes, he had. In March of 2013 he and his ex were convicted. Scumbag got 15 years plus 36 months probation with 256 days' credit for the time he'd already spent in the box. Girlfriend was convicted on two lesser counts and got two 60-day terms and credit for 29 days' jail time.

Not nearly enough. There's nothing I despise more than someone who hurts a kid (and that's even taking Republicans into account).

I had my share of shitty adults as a kid--the stepfather who flailed me with his belt or threatened to take me out back and beat me with an axe handle.

There was one shitty teenager, though, who might have wired my rage button more than the abusive stepfather did.

In 1973, we moved four times, going from Pensacola to West Palm Beach to Loxley, Alabama to Mobile, Alabama. Prichard, actually, which lies close to the port, the Africatown Bridge, and a couple of miles north of downtown Mobile. I've spent hours in Google Earth scouring Eugene Avenue, trying to remember what our house looked like and where one of the neighborhood kids lived.

I wasn't quite 6 yet. Maybe that's why nothing looks familiar now. But I do remember the school yard fronting along the north side of Meaher Street, an easy walk north along Eugene. I remember a day when I was out exploring the neighborhood and stole a "Coca Cola" keyring dangling from the ignition of a parked school bus.

I remember the neighborhood kid and some friends playing with the new Evel Knievel Stunt Cycle in front of his house. I don't know how many times we played together after that first meeting, or what his name was, or even how long we lived in the neighborhood. Not very long, since we moved twice the next year.

I do remember the kid's older brother, who tried to molest me.


You might not want to read any further. It's not particularly graphic, what he did, but "trigger warnings" are a thing.


Everyone else was out of the house--parents at work, kid at summer school, according to Big Brother. All I've got is mental snapshots: I'll give you these opera glasses if you'll do something for me...him with his underwear down...mine down...a few awkward moments of him trying (and failing) to get me to blow him...I didn't know enough to be afraid or disturbed, didn't know what any of this was about...and then I was climbing a tree, playing with the shiny glasses. I didn't actively block it from my mind, but I can't remember giving it much further thought until I was in my 20s, when suddenly everything popped up again.

The neighborhood hasn't changed much, from what I can see in Google's Street View. Still tree-shaded, with kids playing in the quiet streets or sandy yards. The school's been rebuilt and faces the street where I stole the bus keys. I wonder whether that kid's brother molested anyone else, whether he ever got caught. I'd like to think some other kid's big brother grabbed him and went all Frank Castle on his ass.

I'd settle, though, for learning that Scumbag gets a few bales of shit beaten out of him while he's in prison. No rape and no stabbings, just a series of ass-whippings he's had coming to him for a long time.

George W. Bush, The Failure

...or the Overwhelming Success, as far as Osama bin Laden and Al Qaeda are concerned.

Osama should have commissioned a medal for George Bush, who turned out to be his unwitting point man in the United States.

Were it not for Fratboy and his neoconservative lackeys and the media toads who whipped Iraq from unimportant Middle Eastern backwater to OMG EVIL EVIL EVIL!!!!!111!!!!, Osama's terrorist mission couldn't have succeeded.

Fortunately for him, Fratboy did everything Al Qaeda could ever have wanted. He handed Osama an enormous victory by invading Iraq and toppling Saddam: now Al Qaeda could enter Iraq. Fratboy took their hat and coat, polished their shoes, served them coffee, and paid the tab in cash and blood.

Mission Accomplished.

Edited to add a comment I scribbled elsewhere. Liked it too much to just leave it there:

Time to round the chuckleheads up, load 'em on C-47s wearing whatever they're already wearing when they're nabbed, slap a chute on 'em, and Operation Dope Drop their asses somewhere generally close to somewhere in Iraq. Since Cheney will be there, make it an undisclosed location. He'll like that.

Give General George Dubya a Patton hat, make McCain't his tactical advisor. AND...do them like they did the troops: insufficient armor and equipment for the job. Maybe they'll get lucky and find a cache of stuff abandoned by the Iraqis before they ran off.

McCain't and Cheney can grimace at 'em. Dubya can paint 'em something purty.

Hell, we can even call it "D Day"...for "Dumbasses." If they get captured...well, we're not at war in Iraq, so they're not POW's (sorry, McCain't, I know you like the martyr gig), and we don't know diddly cupcake about 'em.

"What? He says he's George Bush? He painted you a flower? I see. You want to trade him for who? Bieber? What's a Bieber?"

Pic of the Day: Asking for it.

Meet Dean. Dean's an asshole.

Here he is at the University of Arizona last year:

He's at it again, this time at ASU.

Just sayin'.

Pic of the Day: Texas Devils

I'm gonna have to add an "assholes" tag if these two assholes keep popping up in public.

[ETA: that's Rafael "Ted" Cruz and his father, Rafael Sr. Do a little Google-fu on "rafael cruz dominion" to see why he's yucky.]

Labor Day repost: I Made the 1% Rich

Labor Day is a good time for a repost from October of 2011, in the midst of the Occupy! days.

According to that pizza-making idiot who wants to be president next year, it's my fault I'm not an entitled elitist rich raging asshole like him.

But actually, it's because of minimum-wage workers like me that he's an entitled elitist rich raging asshole. He didn't get there on his own, no matter what he wants you to believe.

No. His millions came because of waitresses and kitchen staff in his Godfather's restaurants, people who worked for whatever the company could get away with paying. His money came from regular people like me busting their asses for 40 hours a week, or maybe working more than one job.

I knew people like that in my last job, as a delivery driver for one of the national auto parts chains. I hired on in early 2007, working full time and getting a little more than $7 an hour. Because it was February, once my 90 day probation was done, I still couldn't get into the health plan, since enrollment only happened in January.

But their plan was utter crap; the one I could afford wouldn't cover much of anything. The one I needed was too expensive. I did without.

No raises for ANYbody. Most of the other drivers and counter staff who'd been there as long or longer than me hadn't gotten a raise in years. Every time someone brought it up with management, they'd get runaround, or told to talk to the district manager, who would just give more runaround and excuses.

But the store managers got their bonuses. The DM got his bonus. His boss got his bonus, and so on. Us non-management types got a share in the "store bonus," which was based on overall sales for that store. If your sales are down, you don't get the extra few bucks.

All the while, the DM was screaming that payroll had to be cut, no new hires, no overtime for anyone. This meant that everyone but the store managers got cut back to 30 hours or less and the stores were running on skeleton crews. Customers would complain--both walk-in and commercial--because there weren't enough people to handle the workload. There were only 4 people in my store in the morning: two drivers, one at the Commercial desk (selling parts to local repair shops), and the store manager running the front, alone, until the afternoon guy came in. This freed the manager to go do paperwork, make the bank deposit, and grab lunch. The Commercial side closed down at 5 pm, the store manager left, and the evening guy came in, leaving two people to run the store to close.

And so both walk-in and commercial customers would go to the competition, because the store managers couldn't do anything about it--can't hire anyone, can't bring extra people in to help--and so the DM would scream about getting sales up.

We two drivers did an awful lot to help--checking in stock, putting it on the shelves, helping customers, re-stocking, putting up displays, answering phones, cleaning, anything and everything. I knew the system well enough to do parts lookups and run a register, run the test equipment (batteries, starters, alternators, ignition modules) and brake lathe, maintained the delivery trucks, maintained store equipment (I rigged up a drain for one of the air conditioners when its pipes got clogged up, re-stocked half the hard parts when the part numbers changed or new stuff came in), and other stuff that a "delivery driver" didn't need to do. This is assuming I wasn't out on a run, where I interacted with the customers, listened to their complaints about how long it was taking to get their parts, told them about the company's cutbacks, and asked them to call Corporate and give them an earful.

Basically--and this isn't an exaggeration--I did everything. Most of us in that one store could handle someone else's job and chip in, because we HAD to. Most of us were making about the same, without raises, with our hours cut, and we heard the same bullshit from Corporate--"More sales! Less payroll!"

We got a new DM in January 2010, the third one since I got hired. This asshole went on vacation in February, but not before showing everyone a sales brochure for his $50,000 boat. Nice.

He started shuffling people around. I got moved to the hub store, which warehoused more parts than the others. I was back on a 40-hour week, which was good, and all I had to do was make 8 circuits a day from the hub to two other stores and back. During one stop, I learned that the Company had posted record profits for 2009, $300 million. The Company guys simply gushed about it on the employee indoctrination information website. We were expected to gush, as well, because we're all one big happy family!

Record profits--but at the cost of cutting payroll hours, running stores with minimal staff, running off customers who weren't getting good service, freezing any raises...basically fucking us over for their big profits.

It was people like me who made that $300 million for the Company, people like me who made those sales and helped those customers, people like me who busted our asses so the Company assholes could enjoy their bonuses and record profits while we decided whether to pay the electric bill, the phone bill, or insurance this pay period.

Car broke down? Crap...got to juggle the bills around. Maybe one of the shops'll cut me a deal. At least I get a discount on parts.

Lights got cut off? They want HOW MUCH to turn them back on? Well shit, there goes that paycheck. Guess we're hitting Dollar General for mac & cheese, ramen noodles, and tuna sandwiches for the next two weeks.

But did you SEE the District Manager's new $50,000 boat?! It's got wells for keeping bait, it's got a cooler under this seat, a stereo...everything an entitled asshole could want! Maybe if we're productive enough, he'll let us buy some of the fish he caught on vacation while we were keeping his stores alive for him and earning him his next bonus!

Since the Aorta Fairy visited me last year, things have actually gotten worse for my former coworkers. No raises, payroll cut ever further, and the Company's entitled elites making ever more money.

No, we don't owe the fuckers any thanks for allowing us to work for them and bask in their light. They owe us for making them rich. They owe us better wages, better working conditions, some fucking respect for all the work we do to keep their companies going. Without us, their companies die and the money stops flowing. Without us, their customers go somewhere else.

They owe us the courtesy of keeping American jobs in this country, instead of sending them to places where people will work for much less than we will.

Fuck you, Herman Cain.

Pic of the Day: Hey.

Pass it on.

Pic of the Day: Republican Derp.

This poor little Texas filly had an abortion that made her look like a Republican Dumbass.

Oh, wait. That's just a Republican Dumbass holding up a sign. If he were a hipster I'd accuse him of doing it ironically. But being as how he's a dumbass, it could just be that he plain cain't read.

Mr. Dumbass was protesting in Texas with some other guys from the Dumbass family; Wonkette has some pics of them in their natural, stupid plumage.

Pic of the Day: Size Matters.

Lou Costello Stunt Double and demented hatemuffin Tony Scalia had himself a reagegasm over today's 5-4 Supreme Court decision overturning the idiotic Defense Of Marriage Act.

He's not the only tiny wingnut railing at the skies, demanding that the heavens open up and thunder vengeance upon their betters.

Bonus pic:

bwahaha!
Huh. That baby even looks like Scalia.

[Edited to add new freakouts, below]

Paul Kraft of--get this--Renew America--whines that wingnuts should secede to prevent gay marriage.

Then there's this teabagger who says the country's one step closer to civil war over the DOMA decision.

Something the wingnuts really need to have explained to them--preferably by a William Tecumseh Sherman-like father figure--is that the point of a democracy (or a democratic republic) is that the people make decisions and the wingnuts get to live with that...or leave. They don't get to secede just because things don't go their way.

Childish jackholes.

Pic of the Day: Snowden

It's fun watching Glenn Greenwald and his pet genius' implosion. Snowden's hysterics over the NSA and FISA might have been warranted...if we didn't already know about them.

Bob Cesca has been doing some heavy lifting to find what's important and what isn't in all this.

Charles Johnson at Little Green Footballs blew holes in Snowden and Greenwald almost from the beginning of this non-scandal.

Nothingburger. Formerly a main course of the teabaggers trying to swamp Obama in scandals (Fast & Furious gun-running, Bengazi, the IRS investigating teabaggers who want tax-exempt status).

Apparently Greenwald and his supporters have discovered the savory emptiness of nothingburger, as well.

Pic of the Day: Forgotten Scumbag Still Whining

...and makes Hurricane Sandy all about him:

I wish the hurricane hadn't happened when it did because it gave the president a chance to look presidential.

 A hurricane that killed people and caused billions in damage hurt the MittBot's chances at winning!

The Wonkette link above will take you to some excellent snark and the CNN video clip of this entitled backpfeingesicht. "Burlivesleftnut" comments, "Hurricane Butthurt."

When Troubleshooting Just Causes Trouble

Just to show how good I am at overthinking car troubles (and why I'd probably starve if I had to work as a mechanic)...

I was cruising along in my '83 Citation (the '81 X-11's "little sister") maybe 10 years ago, headed north along Scenic Highway. As I passed a last line of houses and started seeing undeveloped woodlands, I heard a loud BANG, like a gunshot.

Didn't stop to check for bullet holes. I just hit the gas and looked in my mirrors. Didn't see anything. Once I got home, I didn't find any damage. The event was shrugged off and forgotten.

The Citation's engine developed a rough idle, slightly worse gas mileage. I looked over everything, checking carb settings, ignition timing, engine vacuum. Didn't make sense. The carb settings were fine, timing was a little off but not causing trouble. Engine was breathing fine, maybe a little low.

But the idle stayed rough.

I went through the shop manual's troubleshooting guide--carb's okay, timing's good, vacuum's good...all the easy stuff got checked off the list. The manual suggested that the timing chain might have jumped a sprocket, and all the symptoms seemed to agree. I hated to think this might be the problem, since it was more work than I wanted to do.

Drove around like that for several months, occasionally trying those simpler checks--carb, timing, vacuum--in the hope that I'd missed something simple. Finally stopped putting it off, parked the car, and got to work.

Busted out the jack stands, got her nose in the air...loosen the belts, lose the water pump, timing cover...huh.

Timing chain looks fine. Rolled the engine a little to line up the crank and cam timing marks.

They're fine.

Shit.

Oh, well, probably the original chain, and as long as I'm already here...put in the new one, double-check timing marks...new seal on timing cover, new gasket...water pump, pulley, belts.

As long as I'm here, though...let's do the valve cover gaskets, get rid of that little oil leak.

Kind of a pain in the ass. Some stuff in the way--SNAP!

Shit!

There's a little trident-shaped set of pipes that are part of the emissions controls. The engine computer blows fresh air into the exhaust system through these to burn unburned or partly-burned fuel.

I'd just snapped one of the pipes. They tend to rust pretty quickly as it is, but on a 20-year old car they're brittle. Turning the nut holding the pipe in place just folded the pipe.

Wrecked all three getting the thing off of there. At first, I tried fabricating one from brake line (which is all the pipes were, basically) but couldn't bend the stuff with my limited tools. I put that project on the back burner, plugged the exhaust manifold with pipe plugs, fixed the valve cover gaskets, and buttoned everything up, pissed that I'd wasted a weekend on a not-bad timing chain.

Car started up as always, ran just fine, but that idle just wouldn't stabilize. Bugged the hell out of me. And again I tried all the simpler stuff yet again--carb settings, ignition timing, vacuum check. No leaks, no computer trouble codes, and still no idea what was causing the roughness.

A year went by. I still occasionally tried to ferret the problem. No magical new information in the troubleshooting guides. I wondered whether the engine computer might be acting up; it controls spark timing, fuel delivery, and all that. I thing I pulled it out and looked it over, decided I wasn't going to screw with it, and bolted it back in. No easy way of poking around on a plastic-sealed circuit board. Nothing looked burned or damaged.

I don't know what I was doing, the day the problem was solved. Maybe just checking the spark plugs, something I hadn't done in all the troubleshooting. I know I'd never looked at the things because...

...you car guys will love this. Really.

Put your drink down.

As I was feeling along the back side of the engine, I found the #3 spark plug hanging by its wire.

Remember that "gunshot" I thought I'd heard? I remembered it, then.

I'm guessing that I didn't tighten #3 down properly sometime before the "gunshot." Every time the plug lit off the air and fuel in the #3 cylinder, the concussion worked the plug out a little. That BANG was the final air-fuel charge blowing the loose plug out. From then on, my V6 was a V5.

Threaded the little shit back in...tightened it properly (this time). Engine ran perfectly.

The X-11 is just the latest in a line of cars with laughing rights on me.

Pic of the Day: Poodle.

Faithful lapdogs are important to politicians who want to seem influential. George Bush had British Prime Minister Tony "Bush's Poodle" Blair. Senator John McCain has South Carolina's Lindsey Graham.

This poodle stood with McCain and another idiot (The Replacement Lieberman) a few months ago to grandstand for the media, demanding briefings on the Horrible Bengazi Tragedy while other Senate members were attending a briefing on the Horrible Bengazi Tragedy.

Good dog.

Joseph Farah should Self-Deport

Whiny Wingnut Daily founder and all-around insane Obama-hater Joey "I DESPISE DEMOCRACY!!" Farah is calling for secession. Just can't stand Obama's big, huge, massive Republican-crushing landslide.

How 'bout you and your idiot followers on WND--and the rest of the teabaggers and fundies--just renounce your citizenship and piss off to one of the many theocratic paradises this earth has to offer? I mean, you've already got so much in common with your America-hating Taliban brothers (i.e., you hate America, you America-haters) that you might as well go live with them.

Leave. Leave now, you traitor. We'll be alright without you.

Pic of the Day: Too Bad We Can't Clone Sherman...

...and send an army of him out to deal with the sudden influx of stupid people screeching for secession in the wake of Obama's massive landslide ass-whipping victorious crushing beat-down of...uh...that loser. Can't remember his name, but it was last week.

(credit: dengre) You whiny little shits tried secession about 150 years ago. This fellow bulldozed some of your real estate. You lost, but never learned your lesson.

Let's put it this way: you don't get to leave just because you don't get your fucking way. Too many of you idiots live in states that take in more in federal money than they pay out in taxes (and yet YOU leeches bitch about paying too much). This is a democratic republic, not an autocracy, not a kindergarten sandbox.

I'd say we pick one such state and let 'em go, then give all the whiny losers in the remaining ones a few weeks to move there, but more importantly to give the intelligent people who know better time to move out. Build a wall or fence around it, cut all the roads and bridges, cut the power lines and any other infrastructure. No more federal money. Any federal property--especially military bases--gets bombed into uselessness. If an oil pipeline or other resource runs into the former state, reroute it.

Imagine that. A conservative paradise--you could call it Reaganistan (we Americans will call you Dumbfuckistan). No more FEMA, no more taxes to the IRS, no Social Security, Medicaid, Medicare, Obamacare, and you can put allll the old white men in office you want. You can set up a "fuck you, I got mine" economy of your own.

Assuming you realize that you fucked up (being wingnuts and all) and beg to be let back in, first thing is that you have to pay back, with interest, all the federal money you've ever glommed on to, all the way back to the LAST time you threw a tantrum in the 1860s. Clean slate.

An alternative would be to go through the list of goobers who signed those pro-secession petitions--some 500,000 goobers across all 50 states--strip them of their citizenship and deport them. Don't know where they'd go, though. I can't imagine a country that would have them.

OR...you dumbasses could tough it out and grow the hell up. The country doesn't just belong to you.

OBAMAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

...and now 4 more years of teabag tears. Bwahahahaha!

So which will the teabaggers do first? The circular firing squad, where they turn on each other...

...or the self-destructive, emo approach?

Glad to see that Allen "War Criminal" West lost his bid for reelection. Deadbeat Dad Joe "owes $100,000 in child support" Walsh lost.

Bachmann's only 400-ish votes ahead of her Democratic challenger. [unfortunately, she won. Pity. The funniest thing I read about her was some crying conservative claiming that ol' Crazy Eyes coulda beat Obama. She couldn't even beat ROMNEY.]

The Party of Rape faction didn't do well, either--"Legitimate Rape" Akin lost. "Gawd intended" Mourdock lost. Still waiting to see how the rest of those insane bastards fared.

[UPDATE--speaking of insane bastards, Roy "10 Commandments" Moore got his old job back as chief justice of the Alabama Supreme Court. He says he's not bringing the big stone 10C's monument with him.]

[UPDATE--speaking of circular firing squads, the first name has been selected, and it's...Chris Christie!!]

Tell it to the next hurricane...

Bunch of idiots chanting "USA! USA! USA!" shouting down a guy heckling the ShitMitt about climate change....



All that hot air and wishful thinking should deflect the next hurricane or other natural disaster. Just put 'em all right where Jim "The Hurricane Will Hit HERE" Cantore shows up.

Bookends & Odds & Ends

The Greater Dumbfuckistan County Fair (colloquially known as the Republican National Convention) has finally ended, after shambling like a drunken elephant herd past any wells of honesty in search of more batshit craziness to dig up.

This cavalcade of FAIL was bookended by The Outlaw Jersey Whale (bwahahaha!) at the outset and the doddering wreck that remains of an actor who played The Outlaw Josey Wales, who spent his stage time talking to a pretend Obama (WTF?) cleverly disguised as an empty chair. There's video at that thar link.
There's plenty of snark at Andrew Sullivan's.

Didn't spend a minute watching any of this crap (more fun to read about in the blogosphere, where the snark flows); spent time reading, organizing, and working on an old flood-damaged Zoom 3030 guitar pedal. It's supposed to do this:







...but mine's not in working condition so far. I scrubbed a film of mineral deposits off of the circuit board, resoldered several of the input/output jacks, and hit the jacks' contacts with a file to clean them up. The last time I tried it out, it was getting input and all the buttons seemed functional (so the processor's good), but there was no sound.

It needs to dry out a little longer before the next power up/smoke test; part of the scrubbing was in a bath of hot water and dish soap. About all that accomplished was to make the board wet and soapy. The mineral deposits weren't impressed. The only thing that's worked so far is rubbing alcohol and cotton swabs--and after a few hours of that, the worst of the tacky white glaze is gone.

Of the three flood-rescue projects I inherited, the 3030's in the best condition. The other two  (a Digitech GSP-5 Guitar Processor and a Digitech RDS 1900 Digital Delay) look a lot worse.

Pic of the Day: Legitimate Idiot

Why, yes, fundamentalist religion is involved; this nut-dipper is linked to fundie fuckwit D. James Kennedy, who called rape victims who get abortions "hysterical."

I think maybe the "D" stood for "Dumbass." No wonder he abbreviated.

Once you remember that conservatism is a mental defect, this shit makes sense. How insane is too insane to be allowed to hold public office?

Job-Killing Romney's Bain Kills More Jobs

The vulture stands to make quite a profit now that an auto-parts plant formerly in Freeport, Illionois has been uprooted and sent to the Job Gulag somewhere in China.

As a bonus rogering to the plant's American employees, they're training their replacements before being rendered jobless.

This ratfucking of American workers is treason. Strong word, yes, but I feel pretty damn strongly about it.

How much further will this outsourcing go before it's unsustainable? Think of it this way: if American jobs are sent elsewhere, and those workers can't find replacement jobs, then they can't buy the crap that's being outsourced and the company loses money.

The outsource-happy politicians and company dirtbags--including Romney--need to be treated like criminals. Prison's a good place for them, especially if they're in amongst the general population, but I'd settle for shutting down those companies, freezing all their assets, stripping the execs of their citizenship, and shipping the whole thing to China where they can operate their companies in person. Tax the living shit out of their products and give tax breaks to competing companies that stay here and hire Americans.