Bernie Bro Ballyhoo

InkedFord Wenty profile image_LI

A report from Ale 81 Inn field correspondent Ford Wenty

Project Veritas is at it again. Mr. O’Keefe and company have graced us with yet another of their exposés; this time peeling back the carpet to reveal the rotted sub-floor beneath that is the Bernie Sanders campaign. The chief subject of this episode is an Iowa field organizer by the name of Kyle Jurek, a name now known to millions. The marvelous thing about Project Veritas’ guerrilla journalism is that unlike more conventional methods, where one listens, records and then reports the words and actions of their subjects, the viewer is instead given the story directly from the subject’s own mouth. On that score Mr. Jurek hardly disappoints: he is a small man with a very big mouth.

Why should we care?  This seems a natural question, we are assured, as there are extremists at either end of our political spectrum. It will be suggested that Mr. Jurek is a lone wolf, an outlier not in any way reflective of the democrat constituency as a whole. Whether this bears any truth or not will make little difference to those who will be content to wrap this warm shawl of comforting thought around their fragile psyches. There is, however, good reason to care and we should all be thankful that this Trotsky wannabe has been exposed.

Jurek holds the title of field organizer, one of many designations applied to the broader category of what we may refer to as campaign workers. While no individual candidate’s campaign runs  in perpetuity, there is always a campaign running somewhere. Consequently there is a pool of campaign workers who are always seeking one with which to hire their services.  I’m not talking local volunteers: these are the professionals, otherwise known as paid shills. Those employed with losing campaigns move from one to another, alway remaining within a sympatico orbit. Those from winning campaigns, in contrast, will generally land positions within the winner’s administration and later get a soft landing into a cushy media gig. George Stephanopolous comes to mind as a stellar example.  Herein lies the seeds for that Deep State that our friends on the left take such great pains to deny.

For the field organizer landing one of those government jobs with the winning team it is akin to the minor league ballplayer getting called up to the majors.  This seems an apt comparison as there are indisputably “farm clubs” for this talent pool. One of the most prodigious of these in the past decade has been SEIU, a name no doubt quite familiar from the Obama years.  It is through that very vehicle that Mr. Jurek has attained his bona fides as a presidential campaign field organizer.

From the limited information that we have been able to obtain thus far we have pieced together at least a partial history of Jurek’s career path. After attending Saginaw Valley State University in Michigan he remained for a time as a graduate assistant before joining SEIU sometime in the late 2000’s.  Although unclear exactly when it was established, Jurek still has an active LinkedIn profile identifying him as a field rep/organizer with SEIU UHW in Oakland, CA. There are unverified accounts that after joining SEIU in Michigan he was later dispatched to work on campaigns in California and Arizona. Jurek served as an SEIU organizer in their $15 per hour minimum wage strikes in Michigan in late 2014. We have not yet found verification, but we believe that Jurek was also a part of Sanders’ 2016 campaign in Michigan. We do know that he was hired for “recount consulting services” by the Democrat Senate Campaign Committee  in Florida in November 2018.

From Jurek’s LinkedIn page:

  • Kyle Jurek

Field Rep / Organizer at SEIU UHW

 

Recount Consulting Services. Hmm… wonder what that could be? :

 

 

Those familiar with this column will know that we seek to view matters through that unique lens of the stoner’s perspective. By Jurek’s own admission (as seen in Project Veritas video) and a lengthy arrest record we are assured that he can lay claim to a membership in Stoner Nation:

1/7/2020 OWI/ DWI

1/7/2020 Failure to provide proof of financial liability ( No Insurance )

1/7/2020 Possession of drug paraphernalia

1/7/2020 operating while intoxicated – 2nd offense

1/7/2020 Violation of probation

All Saylor Township, IA

9/27/2019 Possession of a controlled substance

9/27/2019 Unlawful possession of prescription drug

9/27/2019 Possession of drug paraphernalia

Urbandale, IA

Arenac County MI Sheriffs Dept

9/24/2016 Misdemeanor Dangerous drug

9/24/2016 DUI

He was arrested Pinconning , MI Police Dept

6/19/2009 3 ct. controlled substance

Bay County Prosecutors Office

6/20/2009 Possession of Cocaine ( less than 25 Grams ) guilty plea

6/20/2009 Possession of Analogues guilty plea

6/20/2009 Possession of Marijuana guilty plea

 

There are more, going back to his college days at SVSU, but you get the point. If you are a stoner this is not a dude you want to run with. He is a dumbass who does not know how to maintain a low profile. While his communist international card may be safe for now, I move that his Stoner Nation card be revoked forthwith. Stoners share one universal creed: Don’t be a dick. Jurek has not only broken, he has utterly shattered this rule. We are by and large a very forgiving people, and were he a snot nosed twenty-four year old grad student much of this might be discounted. He is thirty-eight years old. GTFU, okay? The intellectual capacity of this manchild is so glaringly deficient that it can only inspire disappointment. His behavior helps to reinforce a stereotype that we should no longer have to defend, making it far too easy for alcohol soaked hypocrites on the right to equate marijuana use with this brand of stupidity.

At the age of thirty-eight, even if you don’t participate in the electoral process, it would be reasonable to expect that as an adult one would know how to count. Counting backwards by fours from this, a presidential election year, one regresses from 20, 16, 12…….84, 80, and…..wait. That’s 1976. No presidential election in 1978. And it wasn’t McGovern. That was 1972. What should we think of a thirty-eight year old man with a Karl Marx beard, a college graduate, who can not complete a sentence without the words “like” or “f-ing”? Yes, those are important words in a stoner’s vocabulary, but not every other word! It would seem that the re-education camps Jurek advocates for are in fact a fait accompli. They are the very public education system of which he is living proof.

In addition to some remedial courses in English, mathematics and history, I might also recommend some required reading for Jurek: Orwell’s 1984. If nothing else would sink in to his addled mind, I would hope that he could learn one, if only one, lesson. Mr. Jurek – you are no longer one of the proles. You are a party member now and as such, once your revolution has been realized, you will be purged because of your drug use. Your chemical dependency compromises your ideological purity. Surely a man so well versed on Comrade Stalin would know this.

I strongly suspect that Kyle Jurek is too far gone, now beyond redemption. As a very last resort I might prescribe daily dosing with The Presidential Cheese (cannabis rex). Perhaps, just perhaps, all of this is just due to shitty dope. We can but hope….

 

bernie gulags

 

Ford Wenty, report end 1/20/20

 

Testimony?

Thefoureunuchs

L to R; eunuch, ballbreaker, eunuch, token

 

Ah, testimony. Lovely word, isn’t it? Testimony: derived from Latin. Another gift from those crafty Romans. Testes, testis, testimony. From the oath taken under Roman law, that is to swear upon one’s manhood. Back in those years before the Romans had co-opted the Hebrew God to their own purposes, there was no “word of God” upon which to stake one’s honor. In any culture; any language; any time in human history, a man compelled to swear an oath at the risk of his jewels has proven to sufficiently incentivize truth telling. With this in mind, I for one, believe that this word ought be treated with a bit more reverence.

What is being offered up today, under the sublime leadership of the only alien being ever seated in the US Congress (pictured below)……

 

JabbaNadler 1Nadler 2Nadler 3Nadler 4……is not testimony. Not in any legal sense, nor in it’s euphemistic sense as given in the word’s origin. There aren’t enough balls present in that line up to do the word justice. These people, just like the recent parade of disgruntled diplomats at the Adam Schiff show, are the embodiment of what is wrong with Washington. The names and faces have been changed, but the story remains the same. The same condescending, rules for thee – not for me, hypocrisy hustle that swamp rats have heaped upon us for decades now.

Chairman Waddler adjusts himself upon that pillow of excess flesh folded beneath him. It’s a fortunate byproduct of the transformation he has undergone since arriving on this planet. A man who never could find his own ass with both hands now has a valid excuse. Some say that he actually has a pouch somewhere in those folds where he carries a spare gavel. Should this actually exist one shudders at the thought of what else might be found there.

You are witnessing the long playing version of the Caddyshack Presidency. These hearings are like a board meeting of the Bushwood Country Club, where the snobs scheme at how they will rid themselves of the nouveau riche trash, Rodney Dangerfield’s Al Cervic – ironically also a real estate developer. In their universe this is who Trump is. There is a scene from Caddyshack that I consider the most emblematic of the farce we have witnessed for the last three years. The swimming pool scene where the plebian caddies and club staff are permitted a brief opportunity to avail themselves of this amenity.  The look of horror upon the faces of the members is rather like the perpetual scowl of the swamp rat in the full throes of TDS.  And in both instances this fear is not just for the fact that the unwashed have breached their sanctum: it is the fear that once they’ve gone there will be a big, fat turd left floating on the surface.

I for one hope that President Trump leaves them a pipe-plugger of epic proportions. Lord knows we’ve been swimming in their toilet for years.

 

 

Brazil revisited

InkedFord Wenty profile image_LI

A report from Ale 81 Inn field correspondent, Ford Wenty


 

After watching the farcical proceedings of the Adam Schiff Show for the past couple of weeks I was prompted to revisit one of my favorite dystopian tales, the 1985 Terry Gilliam film Brazil.  There are doubtless those within our audience who are familiar with the film, though I suspect that these would be in the minority. In the nearly thirty-five years since it’s release it is fair to say that despite Academy Award nominations, and the timeliness of the picture’s theme, it is something which has faded to relative obscurity.  For those not familiar I do highly recommend that you look up Brazil and set aside 94 minutes that you can easily part with. Some green would be in order for the occasion, or any other mind altering poisons that you have successfully tamed.

A little background here for those who may be completely unfamiliar. Terry Gilliam is best known as the lone Yank of the legendary English comedy troupe, Monty Python’s Flying Circus, most notably as producer of their bizarre animated sequences. It was a quite ambitious undertaking at the time, just four years after Gilliam’s first foray into film, Time BanditsBrazil incorporates some of the same fantasy elements as it’s predecessor; some may say these are overdone to the overall detriment of the Brazil storyline. The film employs what may only be called a “retro-futuristic” landscape, in much the same fashion as the more recent A Series of unfortunate Events. The sets depicting the outside world are eerily reminiscent of those presented in the early sci-fi masterpieces of famed German director Fritz Lang.

The cast was comprised of a veritable who’s who of British cinema, many of whom in ensuing years were to become well known to American audiences. One would need begin with Jonathan Pryce as the story’s chief protagonist, Sam Lowry. You will recognize him from his later roles in films like Four Weddings and a Funeral and the Brendan Fraser Mummy franchise.  There were also fellow Python alum, Michael Palin; Ian Holm, later best known as Bilbo Baggins from Peter Jackson’s LOTR universe; a not yet well known but certainly recognizable Bob Hoskins, later of Roger Rabbit and countless others. A bit of truly obscure trivia for you: Hoskins’ role was that of a workman, an HVAC technician from government’s Central Services. He had a partner which was none other than Nigel Planer, better known as Neil the Hippie from BBC 4’s short lived The Young Ones a few years prior. There were also some well known American talents, including Katherine Helmond, who was quite familiar to American audiences at the time from her television role in the hit ABC sitcom, Soap. In the most unlikely of roles Robert DeNiro appeared as one Harry Tuttle, the renegade HVAC technician and enemy of the State.

Without divulging all, for the benefit of those who may wish to check out the picture, it will have to suffice here to say that Brazil is a sort of dystopian parody/romance.  Those who have seen and recall it will likely concur with that summation. It is, if nothing else, the most unique treatment of the genre; the cinematic equivalent to Kafka. There has long been an audience in the English speaking world for the dystopian nightmare. In Brazil, like other British iterations, these are depicted as a moribund bureaucracy possessed of only the most inept and unintended malevolence. American interpretations tend to be more sinister in character. In truth any dystopia should contain equal parts of each. The absurd element of the bureaucratic state is captured sometimes subtly, but always brilliantly in this film. Some may have already drawn the connection, while others may still be pondering: what is the connection between this and the impeachment hearings? 

Well, recall that I began by stating that these hearings were the impetus for my cinematic retrospective. There have been an abundance of storylines that feed into this idea of the unaccountable state run amok. Each day there is some new element of federal agency malfeasance exposed and it all broadly coalesces into one large and intricately connected web, for those who will take the time to connect all the dots.  I contend that this can not be the result of mere ineptitude, rather it is by design. By the very complexity of these schemes, any attempt to explain and expose them becomes so convoluted that it makes it a very easy target for the label of “conspiracy”. The fact that the players within this drama are insulated, so far removed from any semblance of reality that exists beyond their bubble, is evidenced by something as innocuous as their language.

When I refer to language I do not mean the manner of speech used by the witnesses brought before this inquisition, telling as that may be. I mean instead their shorthand, the lexicon of their profession. Languages evolve out of a unique or distinctive culture. In the last two weeks we have been presented a cross section of unelected functionaries representing various sectors of what I like to think of as the “permanent security state”. There were the State Department, the Defense Department, and my personal favorite; the playground of the Ivy League farm club system and globalist tainted think tanks, the National Security Council. One watches, one listens, and one reads; and one is overwhelmed.

State. Secretaries and Under Secretaries, and deputies thereof. Ambassadors, deputy Ambassadors, chargee d’affaires and chiefs of mission. Oh, and don’t forget the venerated “special envoy”.

Defense. Active duty US Army, assigned to NSC at White House, reporting through chain of command to John Bolton, while also liaising with State and also reporting to an as-yet-to-be-named intel agency. Nice!

And the NSC. As far as the current impeachment narrative runs this is where the crux lies. The NSC: inextricably attached to CIA, DIA, DHS and every other damned alphabet soup bureau and/or agency in our federal government.

Even the House itself: committees and subcommittees, Intel, Oversight, Judicial and more. Question: how many lawyers does it take to fuck up a free lunch? And in the Justice Department and all of it’s many moving parts? DOJ-NSD, OCA, OCG, Directors, Deputy Directors, Deputy Assistant Directors, Counter-intel, AG, DAG, DAAG, and on, and on and on.

All of this nonsense, cumulatively, adds up to this theater of the absurd quality as viewed in the film Brazil. It’s like a Mad Magazine marathon of Spy vs. Spy, each little cell programmed to eternally perform it’s function oblivious to the body politic as a whole. It has become a living yet mindless organism, dedicated as are all organisms, to it’s own propagation. Look at it carefully, America. Is this what we have become? Reduced to a pathetic cartoon? Never mind ANY of the subject matter at hand. Just LOOK at what an absolute FARCE the entire thing is. Not just the hearings, but the ENTIRE federal government. And just like in the film there are only two ways that the absurdity comes to an end: by it’s utter destruction or by it’s own complete and utter victory.

We have but one, ONE chance to cleanse this filth in a peaceful and bloodless fashion. If we fail to do so something much worse will follow, for good or ill.

 

Ford Wenty report end, 23 November, 2019

 

420

 

Pencilneck Liar

 

Schiffbuttholeface

 

 

With our sincere apology to the Beatles, the following is set to the tune of Paperback Writer

 

 

 

 

Dear Hollywood: will you read my script

It took me hours to write, my name is Adam Schiff

It’s based on a wet dream of the DNC

and I’ll need a job when they learn that I’m the Pencilneck Liar

Pencilneck Liar

 

It’s a dirty story of an evil man

and his dumb supporters who don’t understand

that they’re too stupid to know their own good

It’s a thankless task, but it’s the job of a Pencilneck Liar

Pencilneck Liar

 

It’s ten-thousand pages, give or take a few

I’ll be writing more in a day or two

It can be more salacious if you feel the need

I can rewrite it all because you know that I’m the Pencilneck Liar

Pencilneck Liar

 

I’ll be super famous, sell Disney the rights

Do the world premiere in my circus tights

When this is over you won’t find me here

I’ll be in Hollywood or in prison, I’m the Pencilneck Liar

Pencilneck Liar

 

Pencilneck Liar

Pants are on fire

Pencilneck Liar

Pants are on fire

Pencilneck Liar

 

Being for the benefit of Mr. Schiff

For the benefit of Mr. Schiff

hearings held within a SKIF

their words they parse

The diplomats will all be there

Counsel furnished by lawfare

What a farce

Secret hearings and depositions

designed to weave a lie into fake news

It’s no test

Oh Mr. S

will muzzle his foes!

The celebrated Mr. S

will shit his pants and then digress

on Watergate

Then CNN will dance and sing

while Mr. Schiff flies through the ring

Don’t be late!

Mr. Schiff plays up to the gallery

His authority is second to none

And for sure

Nancy the pure

is hitting the sauce

The fun resumes on Tuesday morn

when Mr. Schiff will show his scorn

for Mr. Trump

Then Nancy dear will vacillate

upon how she will evacuate

such a dump

Having been some months in preparation

A splendid time is guaranteed for all

Take a whiff

Mr. Schiff

is shitting his pants

Fauxcahontas

pretendian

There are so many things to dislike about this woman. It is truly a challenge to figure out where to begin. I could recite the laundry list of concerns, but there is one set of facts that do a pretty damned good job of encapsulating them all. It is something which cuts directly to the issue of her character as a person. As one might infer from the title of this article, I am of course referring to her now infamous assertion of Cherokee ancestry.

Though I have some rather strong opinions to the contrary, it is a generally held consensus that Harvard is a top notch institute of higher learning. If we are to base this on nothing more than a dollar equation then the idea has at least some credence. Otherwise how does one account for the exorbitant price tag attached to obtaining the pedigree? One could attend four years at Harvard and learn nothing, but for the right price they will bestow a piece of paper that says you have arrived: you are now among the elites.

Sometimes the value of that paper commands a price over and above money. In Elizabeth Warren’s case that price was high indeed. So desperate was she to obtain that pedigree, she willingly sacrificed any shred of integrity she ever possessed by an absurd attempt at cultural appropriation. Back then this was not the mortal sin that it is today, but let’s be completely clear that there is a huge distinction to be made. We are not talking about something petty. You know, like exploiting another race’s identity in your choice of Halloween costumes. What Lizzy pulled, without even the aid of a costume, was an assertion of racial identity (for which she had NO legitimate claim) for the sole purpose of obtaining preferred treatment in entry to an esteemed university. In one of the most bizarre manifestations of affirmative action Harvard actually cosigned this ruse.

So what we should question is this: was her motivation rooted in some insecurities surrounding her qualification that needed that additional edge? Or was it all just about that ancestor of virtue signalling, social posing? These are the only reasonable conclusions that one might draw from this and whether one or the other, neither are desirable traits in leadership. I’ve always had a sense that I had seen this kind of play somewhere before. And then I remembered this:

Go ahead and watch that and try to tell me with a straight face that the two are not the same.

Joe, we hardly knew you

GotGreen

Disclaimer:  the following is not editorial sponsored by the Ale 81 Inn. It is an independent consultation provided to the Biden 2020 Campaign by our field correspondent, Mr. Ford Wenty


 

Good day America. I am Ford Wenty and today I would like to address you not as the humble field correspondent of the Ale 81 Inn. As you can see above they’ve already thrown me under the bus. That’s fine. I get it. It’s just business. No, today I address all of you, but I address the Biden campaign specifically. Not as correspondent, not as news. Today I will do what the fraudcast networks do: I will act as a political consultant. The difference of course being that I bother to make the distinction.

Alright, let’s get right down to it, shall we? Joe….ah! Where do I start. Your campaign is a living, breathing dumpster fire. It’s ugly. Not Michael Dukakis kind of ugly. No, this is something more akin to watching a troupe of dwarfs with diarrhea performing a waltz on stilts. It’s bad Joe, there’s no sugar coating it, okay?

Since we’re only speaking in the frankest of terms I have a few things I want to make clear to you and to America at large. First of all, in the annals of congressional history you will always rank as the most beloved dumbass. You have been the consummate politician: you’ve never held a real job, you’ll say anything and often at the wrong time. Your favorite sandwich is known to all: your own size twelve shoe, uncooked with just a dash of contrition.  You’ve had us all fooled that you’re that old style Irish Catholic. Turns out Father Morey disagrees. Joe you embody all of the stale, moribund rot that your party has served for the past fifty years. In any other set of circumstances you would be the PERFECT nominee. Just the kind of poodle that a globalist establishment could love. But I’ll tell you what, Kemo Sabe. Some of the most successful species on this planet eat their own. The DNC is no exception.

Hell, we’ve all known for years that you were that creepy, touchy kind of guy. As long as you were a useful tool that was just O-Kay. They’ve already trotted that one out on you Joe. You’ve handled it deftly, but you think they are going to let it go? We know the donor class got their money behind you early because out of a field of twenty lunatics you were, if not a safe bet, the only thing close to it. But now you’re toxic, Joe. You and that brat kid of yours. They won’t throw you under the bus for any of that Ukraine or China business. They don’t want anybody looking any closer at that. No, they’ll choose from a host of other things with which to sink you. Lord knows you’ve given them a wealth of material.

So here is how it all shakes out, old Joe. You only have two options left. You can hang it up and slither back to Scranton, lick your wounds and try to forget, or….

It’s the fourth quarter Joe. There are no time outs, you’re 75 yards from the end zone, time is running out. Close your eyes Joe. Imagine you are Aaron Rogers, heaving that miraculous hail mary touchdown pass. It’s come to that Joe. You let AOC and her tribe throw in with Crazy Bernie. Let them go on about the Green New Deal. You can blow it away with your own New GREEN Deal: Biden 2020 for National Marijuana Legalization. It’s really the only play you have left Joe. You have my permission to use the image above to help launch the campaign. And if you need other assistance, please do not hesitate to call someone else.