Do You Know This Man?

Do you know this man who impeached Nixon?
He is Edward “Ed” Mezvinsky, born January 17, 1937.

Then you’ll probably say, “Who is Ed Mezvinsky?”


Well, he is a former Democrat congressman who represented Iowa’s 1st congressional district in the United States House of Representatives for two terms, from 1973 to 1977.
He sat on the House Judiciary Committee that decided the fate of Richard Nixon.
He was outspoken saying that Nixon was a crook and a disgrace to politics and the nation and should be impeached.
He and the Clintons were friends and very politically intertwined for many years.
Ed Mezvinsky had an affair with NBC News reporter Marjorie Sue Margolies and later married her after his wife divorced him.
In 1993, Marjorie Margolies-Mezvinsky, then a freshman Democrat in Congress, cast the deciding vote that got President Bill Clinton’s controversial tax package through the House of Representatives.
In March 2001, Mezvinsky was indicted and later pleaded guilty to 31 of 69 counts of bank fraud,  mail fraud, and wire fraud.
Ed Mezvinsky
embezzled   more than $10 million dollars from people via both a Ponzi scheme and the notorious Nigerian e-mail scams.
He was found guilty and sentenced to 80 months in federal prison.

After serving less than five years in federal prison, he was released in April 2008 and remains on federal probation.  
To this day, he still owes $9.4 million in restitution to his victims.
About now you are saying, “So what!”
Well, this is Marc and Chelsea Mezvinsky.

That’s right;
Ed   Mezvinsky   is Chelsea   Clinton’s   father in   law .
Now Marc and Chelsea are in their early thirties and purchased a $10.5 million dollar NYC apartment (after being married in George Soros’ mansion).
Has anyone heard mention of any of this in any of the media?
If this guy was Jenna or Barbara Bush’s, or better yet, Sarah Palin’s daughter’s father-in- law, the news would be an everyday headline and every detail would be reported over and over.
And yet say there are no double standards in political reporting.
And then there is possibly Chelsea for president in our future!

The   cycle   never   ends



You’re Gonna Love This One




From: Hank Ashmore
The Deplorable Infidel




During her recent visit to Washington, D.C., Swedish teen climate activist Greta Thunberg was hailed by Barack Obama as “ one of our planet’s greatest advocates.” When the two met prior to her speech before Congress, the former president assured her of his own environmental bona fides with this: “You and me, we’re a team.” To demonstrate her passionate commitment to reducing fossil fuel emissions, Greta traveled from her country to the U.S. by a solar powered yacht, rather than a gas-guzzling private jet, the most planet-destructive mode of transportation. Her “carbon-free” trip to America was largely a symbolic gesture, but there’s no doubt she’s a true believer in the hotly-disputed theory that fossil fuels are destroying the planet.

If she thinks Obama is on her team, she’s one of the most gullible and uniformed 16-year olds in the world. Since she apparently knows little about his carbon-consumptive living, I will share that information here. According to TIME, following are a few of the lifestyle choices he made in the first five months after leaving the White House in January 2017, each of which speaks volumes about how seriously he takes his own feigned call for “each and every one of us” to make drastic cutbacks in the use of fossil fuels.

  • He bought an 8,200 sq. ft. 9-bedroom, fully air-conditioned mansion in one of the most exclusive neighborhoods in the nation’s capitol.
  • The day he left office, he flew 2,200 miles in a near empty U.S. government Boeing 747 all the way across the continent to Palm Springs, California for his first post-presidency vacation.
  • After relaxing at an 11,000 sq. ft. fully air-conditioned villa at the exclusive Thunderbird Heights Resort in nearby Rancho Mirage, he flew 3,300 miles, by private jet, all the way back across the continent to the Caribbean, where he vacationed with Richard Branson at Branson’s $48,000 per night, fully air-conditioned luxury villa on Branson’s private island.
  • After departing his vacation with Branson by private jet, he took another private jet to fly 6,000 miles for some much-needed R&R at the late Marlon Brando’s fully air-conditioned French Polynesian hideaway in Tahiti.
  • Next, he took another private jet for a 2,700-mile trip to Hawaii, where he golfed for several days before taking yet another private jet for the 4,800-mile return trip to his 8,200 sq. ft. fully air-conditioned mansion.
  • In February, he twice traveled from DC to New York, both times by private jet, the first to take in a play on Broadway, the other to rub shoulders over dinner with U2’s Bono.
  • In early May, he private-jetted from DC to Milan, Italy, a roundtrip of 8,200 miles, where a caravan of 14 carbon-powered SUV’s took him to give a paid speech about – sit down for this – humans dumping too much CO2 in the atmosphere.
  • While in Milan, he stayed for two days at the 2,000 sq. ft., fully air-conditioned, $9,500 per night presidential suite at the exclusive Park Hyatt Milan.
  • Next, he took a private jet, from Milan to Tuscany, where he stayed at Borgo Finoccheito, a fully air-conditioned manor house that once was home to 21 families before being turned into an ultra-luxurious vacation villa for the rich and famous.
  • Having left a feather-light carbon footprint in Italy, the former president returned, by private jet, to his 8,200 sq. ft. fully air-conditioned mansion in DC.

One of the world’s loudest climate preachers, the former president flew more than 27,000 miles during his first five months of retirement, a distance greater than Earth’s circumference. There is no telling how many private jet flights he’s taken in the last two-plus years, but one thing’s for sure. His opulent lifestyle reveals a total lack of concern that fossil fuel emissions are destroying the environment.

How does this sanctimonious man get away with such stunning hypocrisy? He gets away with it because the corrupt mainstream media never call him out for consuming the unconscionable amounts of carbon energy needed to fuel his insatiable appetite for lavish living, the planet be damned. Thank God President Trump has ended Obama’s vacations at the expense of the American taxpayer.

John Eidson



“If our country is to survive and prosper, we must summon the courage to condemn and reject the liberal agenda, and we better do it soon.” 

-Walter Williams-



DNA tests reportedly confirm with scientific certainty, according to court documents filed in Arkansas, that Hunter Biden is the biological father of a baby whose mother he initially denied having sex with. He’s just a chip off the old block. I have to put this scum bag in the same category as Adam Schiff. They are both swamp creatures of the lowest form of humanity.



“A society based on the freedom to choose is better than a society based on the principles of socialism, communism and coercion.”

Milton Fredman


Another Good Poem

The Cremation of Sam McGee

Robert W. Service  1874 – 1958

Image result for cremation of sam mcgee


There are strange things done in the midnight sun

By the men who moil for gold;

The Arctic trails have their secret tales

That would make your blood run cold;

The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,

But the queerest they ever did see

Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge

I cremated Sam McGee.


Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee,

where the cotton blooms and blows

Why he left his home in the South to roam

‘round the Pole, God only knows.

He was always cold but the land of gold

seemed to hold him like a spell;

Though he’d often say in his homely way

that he’d sooner live in Hell.


On a Christmas Day we were mushing our way

over the Dawson trail.

Talk of your cold! through the parka’s fold

it stabbed like a driven nail.

If our eyes we’d close, then the lashes froze

till sometimes we couldn’t see,

It wasn’t much fun, but the only one

to whimper was Sam McGee.


And that very night, as we lay packed tight

in our robes beneath the snow,

And the dogs were fed, and the stars o’erhead

were dancing heel and toe,

He turned to me, and “Cap”, says he,

“I’ll cash in this trip, I guess;

And if I do, I’m asking that you

won’t refuse my last request.”


Well, he seemed so low that I couldn’t say no;

then he says with a sort of moan,

“It’s the cursed cold, and it’s got right hold

till I’m chilled clean through to the bone

Yet ‘taint being dead-it’s my awful dread

of the icy grave that pains;

So I want you to swear that, foul or fair,

you’ll cremate my last remains.


A pal’s last need is a thing to heed,

so I swore I would not fail;

And we started on at the streak of dawn

but God! he looked ghastly pale.

He crouched on the sleigh, and he raved all day

of his home in Tennessee;

And before nightfall a corpse was all

that was left of Sam McGee.


There wasn’t a breath in that land of death,

and I hurried, horror-driven

With a corpse half hid that I couldn’t get rid,

because of a promise given;

It was lashed to the sleigh, and it seemed to say.

“You may tax your brawn and brains,

But you promised true, and it’s up to you

to cremate these last remains”.


Now a promise made is a debt unpaid,

and the trail has its own stern code,

In the days to come, though my lips were dumb

in my heart how I cursed that load!

In the long, long night, by the lone firelight,

while the huskies, round in a ring,

Howled out their woes to the homeless snows–

Oh God, how I loathed the thing!


And every day that quiet clay

seemed to heavy and heavier grow;

And on I went, though the dogs were spent

and the grub was getting low.

The trail was bad, and I felt half mad,

but I swore I would not give in;

And I’d often sing to the hateful thing,

and it hearkened with a grin.


Till I came to the marge of Lake Lebarge,

and a derelict there lay;

It was jammed in the ice, but I saw in a trice

it was called the Alice May,

And I looked at it, and I thought a bit,

and I looked at my frozen chum;

Then “Here”, said I, with a sudden cry, “is my



Some planks I tore from the cabin floor

and I lit the boiler fire;

Some coal I found that was lying around,

and I heaped the fuel higher;

The flames just soared, and the furnace roared

such a blaze you seldom see,

And I burrowed a hole in the glowing coal,

and I stuffed in Sam McGee.


Then I made a hike, for I didn’t like

to hear him sizzle so;

And the heavens scowled, and the huskies howled,

and the wind began to blow,

It was icy cold, but the hot sweat rolled

down my cheeks, and I don’t know why;

And the greasy smoke in an inky cloak

went streaking down the sky.


I do not know how long in the snow

I wrestled with grisly fear;

But the stars came out and they danced about

ere again I ventured near;

I was sick with dread, but I bravely said,

“I’ll just take a peep inside.

I guess he’s cooked, and it’s time I looked”.

Then the door I opened wide.


And there sat Sam, looking cool and calm,

in the heart of the furnace roar;

And he wore a smile you could see a mile,

and he said, “Please close that door.

It’s fine in here, but I greatly fear

you’ll let in the cold and storm–

Since I left Plumtree, down in Tennessee,

it’s the first time I’ve been warm”.


There are strange things done in the midnight sun

By the men who moil for gold;

The Arctic trails have their secret tales

That would make your blood run cold;

The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,

But the queerest they ever did see

Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge

I cremated Sam McGee.


He Fights……


Related image


By: Evan Sayet

My Leftist friends (as well as many ardent #NeverTrumpers) constantly ask me if I’m not bothered by Donald Trump’s lack of decorum.  They ask if I don’t think his tweets are “beneath the dignity of the office.”  Here’s my answer:

We Right-thinking people have tried dignity.  There could not have been a man of more quiet dignity than George W. Bush as he suffered the outrageous lies and politically motivated hatreds that undermined his presidency.  We tried statesmanship.  Could there be another human being on this earth who so desperately prized “collegiality” as John McCain?  We tried propriety – has there been a nicer human being ever than Mitt Romney?  And the results were always the same.

This is because, while we were playing by the rules of dignity, collegiality and propriety, the Left has been, for the past 60 years, engaged in a knife fight where the only rules are those of Saul Alinsky and the Chicago mob.

I don’t find anything “dignified,” “collegial” or “proper” about Barack Obama’s lying about what went down on the streets of Ferguson in order to ramp up racial hatreds because racial hatreds serve the Democratic Party.  I don’t see anything “dignified” in lying about the deaths of four Americans in Benghazi and imprisoning an innocent filmmaker to cover your tracks.  I don’t see anything “statesman-like” in weaponizing the IRS to be used to destroy your political opponents and any dissent.  Yes, Obama was “articulate” and “polished” but in no way was he in the least bit “dignified,” “collegial” or “proper.”

The Left has been engaged in a war against America since the rise of the Children of the ‘60s.   To them, it has been an all-out war where nothing is held sacred and nothing is seen as beyond the pale.  It has been a war they’ve fought with violence, the threat of violence, demagoguery and lies from day one – the violent take-over of the universities – till today.

The problem is that, through these years, the Left has been the only side fighting this war.  While the Left has been taking a knife to anyone who stands in their way, the Right has continued to act with dignity, collegiality and propriety.

With Donald Trump, this all has come to an end.  Donald Trump is America’s first wartime president in the Culture War.

During wartime, things like “dignity” and “collegiality” simply aren’t the most essential qualities one looks for in their warriors.  Ulysses Grant was a drunk whose behavior in peacetime might well have seen him drummed out of the Army for conduct unbecoming.  Had Abraham Lincoln applied the peacetime rules of propriety and booted Grant, the Democrats might well still be holding their slaves today.   Lincoln rightly recognized that, “I cannot spare this man.  He fights.”

General George Patton was a vulgar-talking, son-of-a-bitch.  In peacetime, this might have seen him stripped of rank.  But, had Franklin Roosevelt applied the normal rules of decorum, then Hitler and the Socialists would barely be five decades into their thousand-year Reich.

Trump is fighting.  And what’s particularly delicious is that, like Patton standing over the battlefield as his tanks obliterated Rommel’s, he’s shouting, “You magnificent bastards, I read your book!”  That is just the icing on the cake, but it’s wonderful to see that not only is Trump fighting, he’s defeating the Left using their own tactics.

That book is Saul Alinsky’s Rules for Radicals – a book so essential to the Liberals’ war against America that it is and was the playbook for the entire Obama administration and the subject of Hillary Clinton’s senior thesis.   It is a book of such pure evil, that, just as the rest of us would dedicate our book to those we most love or those to whom we are most indebted, Alinsky dedicated his book to Lucifer.

Trump’s tweets may seem rash and unconsidered but, in reality, he is doing exactly what Alinsky suggested his followers do.

First, instead of going after “the fake media” – and they are so fake that they have literally gotten every single significant story of the past 60 years not just wrong, but diametrically opposed to the truth, from the Tet Offensive to Benghazi, to what really happened on the streets of Ferguson, Missouri – Trump isolated CNN.  He made it personal.  Then, just as Alinsky suggests, he employs ridicule which Alinsky described as “the most powerful weapon of all.”

Everyone gets that it’s not just CNN – in fact, in a world where Al Sharpton and Rachel Maddow, Paul Krugman and Nicholas Kristof are people of influence and whose “reporting” is in no way significantly different than CNN’s – CNN is just a piker.

Most importantly, Trump’s tweets have put CNN in an untenable and unwinnable position.  With Trump’s ability to go around them, they cannot simply stand pat.  They need to respond.  This leaves them with only two choices.

They can either “go high” (as Hillary would disingenuously declare of herself and the fake news would disingenuously report as the truth) and begin to honestly and accurately report the news or they can double-down on their usual tactics and hope to defeat Trump with twice their usual hysteria and demagoguery.

The problem for CNN (et al.) with the former is that, if they were to start honestly reporting the news, that would be the end of the Democratic Party they serve.  It is nothing but the incessant use of fake news (read: propaganda) that keeps the Left alive.

Imagine, for example, if CNN had honestly and accurately reported then-candidate Barack Obama’s close ties to foreign terrorists (Rashid Khalidi), domestic terrorists (William Ayers), the mafia (Tony Rezko) or the true evils of his spiritual mentor, Jeremiah Wright’s, church.

Imagine if they had honestly and accurately conveyed the evils of the Obama administration’s weaponizing of the IRS to be used against their political opponents or his running of guns to the Mexican cartels or the truth about the murder of Ambassador Christopher Stevens and the Obama administration’s cover-up.

This makes “going high” a non-starter for CNN.  This leaves them no other option but to ratchet up the fake news, conjuring up the next “nothing burger” and devoting 24 hours a day to hysterical rants about how it’s “worse than Nixon.”

This, obviously, is what CNN has chosen to do.  The problem is that, as they become more and more hysterical, they become more and more obvious.  Each new effort at even faker news than before and faker “outrage” only makes that much more clear to any objective observer that Trump is and always has been right about the fake news media.

And, by causing their hysteria, Trump has forced them into numerous, highly embarrassing and discrediting mistakes.   Thus, in their desperation, they have lowered their standards even further and run with articles so clearly fake that, even with the liberal (lower case “l”) libel laws protecting the media, they’ve had to wholly retract and erase their stories repeatedly.

Their flailing at Trump has even seen them cross the line into criminality, with CNN using their vast corporate fortune to hunt down a private citizen for having made fun of them in an Internet meme.  This threat to “dox” – release of personal information to encourage co-ideologists to visit violence upon him and his family — a political satirist was chilling in that it clearly wasn’t meant just for him.  If it were, there would have been no reason for CNN to have made their “deal” with him public.

Instead, CNN – playing by “Chicago Rules” – was sending a message to any and all: dissent will not be tolerated.

This heavy-handed and hysterical response to a joke on the Internet has backfired on CNN, giving rise to only more righteous ridicule.

So, to my friends on the Left – and the #NeverTrumpers as well — do I wish we lived in a time when our president could be “collegial” and “dignified” and “proper”?  Of course I do.   These aren’t those times.  This is war.  And it’s a war that the Left has been fighting  without opposition for the past 50 years.

So, say anything you want about this president – I get it, he can be vulgar, he can be crude, he can be undignified at times.  I don’t care.  I can’t spare this man.  He fights.



Evan Sayet is the author of The KinderGarden of Eden: How The Modern Liberal Thinks.  His lecture to the Heritage Foundation on this same topic remains, some ten years later, by far the single most viewed lecture in their history.  Evan can be reached at

A Good Poem

The Shooting of Dan McGrew

By: Robert W. Service
.Image result for malamute saloon

A bunch of the boys were whooping it up in the Malamute saloon;

The kid that handles the music-box was hitting a jag-time tune;

Back of the bar, in a solo game, sat Dangerous Dan McGrew,

And watching his luck was his light-o’-love, the lady that’s known as Lou.


When out of the night, which was fifty below, and into the din and the glare,

There stumbled a miner fresh from the creeks, dog-dirty, and loaded for bear.

He looked like a man with a foot in the grave and scarcely the strength of a louse,

Yet he tilted a poke of dust on the bar, and he called for drinks for the house.

There was none could place the stranger’s face, though we searched ourselves for a clue;

But we drank to health, and the last to drink was Dangerous Dan McGrew.


There’s men that somehow just grip your eyes, and hold them hard like a spell;

And such was he, and he looked to me like a man who had lived in hell;

With a face most hair, and the dreary stare of a dog whose day is done,

As he watered the green stuff in his glass, and the drops fell one by one.

Then I got to figgering who he was, and wondering what he’d do,

And I turned my head — and there watching him was the lady that’s known as Lou.


His eyes went rubbering round the room, and he seemed in a kind of daze,

Till at last that old piano fell in the way of his wandering gaze.

The rag-time kid was having a drink; there was no one else on the stool,

So the stranger stumbles across the room, and flops down there like a fool.

In a buckskin shirt that was glazed with dirt he sat, and I saw him sway;

Then he clutched the keys with his talon hands — my God! but that man could play.


Were you ever out in the Great Alone, when the moon was awful clear,

And the icy mountains hemmed you in with a silence you most could hear;

With only the howl of a timber wolf, and you camped there in the cold,

A half-dead thing in a stark, dead world, clean mad for the muck called gold;

While high overhead, green, yellow and red, the North Lights swept in bars? —

Then you’ve a hunch what the music meant. . . hunger and night and the stars.


And hunger not of the belly kind, that’s banished with bacon and beans,

But the gnawing hunger of lonely men for a home and all that it means;

For a fireside far from the cares that are, four walls and a roof above;

But oh! so cramful of cosy joy, and crowned with a woman’s love —

A woman dearer than all the world, and true as Heaven is true —

(God! how ghastly she looks through her rouge, — the lady that’s known as Lou.)


Then on a sudden the music changed, so soft that you scarce could hear;

But you felt that your life had been looted clean of all that it once held dear;

That someone had stolen the woman you loved; that her love was a devil’s lie;

That your guts were gone, and the best for you was to crawl away and die.

‘Twas the crowning cry of a heart’s despair, and it thrilled you through and through —

“I guess I’ll make it a spread misere”, said Dangerous Dan McGrew.


The music almost died away … then it burst like a pent-up flood;

And it seemed to say, “Repay, repay,” and my eyes were blind with blood.

The thought came back of an ancient wrong, and it stung like a frozen lash,

And the lust awoke to kill, to kill … then the music stopped with a crash,

And the stranger turned, and his eyes they burned in a most peculiar way;

In a buckskin shirt that was glazed with dirt he sat, and I saw him sway;

Then his lips went in in a kind of grin, and he spoke, and his voice was calm,

And “Boys,” says he, “you don’t know me, and none of you care a damn;

But I want to state, and my words are straight, and I’ll bet my poke they’re true,

That one of you is a hound of hell. . .and that one is Dan McGrew.”


Then I ducked my head, and the lights went out, and two guns blazed in the dark,

And a woman screamed, and the lights went up, and two men lay stiff and stark.

Pitched on his head, and pumped full of lead, was Dangerous Dan McGrew,

While the man from the creeks lay clutched to the breast of the lady that’s known as Lou.


These are the simple facts of the case, and I guess I ought to know.

They say that the stranger was crazed with “hooch,” and I’m not denying it’s so.

I’m not so wise as the lawyer guys, but strictly between us two —

The woman that kissed him and — pinched his poke — was the lady that’s known as Lou.




Those wascally DemocRATS.  This ad will be repeated.


The Editor:  Don’t you get tired of the never ending lies from the degenerates, scum, and repulsive Democrats in the House of Representatives, LL ?

Circus Cat:  I sure do, after more than three ( 3 ) years it’s all just entertainment.  I would however, advise the R’s to squash the open border crowds like cockroaches.

The Love Birds are back in the news, coo, coo.  More will be in the news, I hope, in a couple of weeks.

Tulsi takes on Kamala, again.  It would be tough to top her Clinton Democratic Rot statement from weeks ago.

Here is the newest Democrat candidate.  He is going to save the party.

Firefox is trying to save us.

Obama’s policies were inhuman.

The big guys/gals want to make a few quick bucks.

If you can find an honest IRS supervisor,  I would check the bank accounts of these guys and their families.  Maybe Congress and the D’s can do it like Trumps tax returns.