by Lionel, Lionel Media:

The myth persists. New York celebrated Columbus Day today with its annual parade of significant note. Just recently, as you must recall, Columbus engendered the collective and orchestrated rage from the usual bands of “pietistic little humbug[s]” (as the great Paddy Chayefsky penned). Yes, the autodidact manqué joined instant experts on the history of and all that is Columbus and repeated via rote the usual claptrap about Ol’ Chris spreading syphilis, smallpox and a host of horrors to Americans. Well, not Americans per se. Make that Native Americans. Well, no, to be fair, Cristoforo and his crew were actually, er, reportedly in the Bahamas and later what we called Hispaniola and I’m still not sure what Columbus discovered when people were already there. But I digress.

[Parenthetical note. Remember Tolstoy: “History would be a wonderful thing if only it were true.”]

Now, you remember I’m sure when the NYPD had to be dispatched to walk the post protecting the statue of Double-C at the eponymous Circle to ward off and repel hoards and vanguards of vandals and angry leftist laughables who vowed to finally teach us a lesson about Columbus and then . . . POOF! The issue was forgotten. Automatically. Immediately. Over night. Imagine that. Evanescence in spades. The usual vacuous contingents of synthetic lefties and Soros rent-a-crisis ensembles just evaporated into thin air after their utility was sapped, television cameras went their merry way and the momentum dissolved, dissipated and disappeared.

Civil War redux. Then the idiot historical autodidacts went double gung ho with frothing orchestrations and choreographed mosh pits, rent-a-throng movements demanding the immediate removal from view of every statue, plaque or connective honor commemorating anyone or anything from and anent the Civil War. Again, over night, out of the woodwork swarmed hoards of man bun[1]sporting, sleeve-tatted, studded and pierced rent-a-twits converging and armed with a rudimentary learning base as to the elemental and abecedarian origins of the War Between the States.

And then . . . you guessed it . . . POOF! Gone. As if it never happened. It’s the way the rent-a-repellants work. Soros hands them 25 bucks, a T-shirt, a box lunch and a bus ticket and VOILA! A startup movement is born. Remember Black Lives Matter, Antifa? Media magnets and attention grabbers. You can really tell a lot about a movement that evaporates and self-destructs by design and choreographed obsolescence. But so long as the Ted Baxter cookie cutter, playbook, echo chamber sockpuppet media report as directed the momentum and concocted flash mobs proceed on course.

Kavanaugh convulsions. Enter the Brett Kavanaugh nomination and confirmation. This was full bore, with full-tilt insanity interest compounded daily. It was a hit. A targeted victim selection of one Judge Brett Kavanaugh and the rules were simple — there would be no rules. Anything goes and everything went and the sheer brutality of the assault was one for the books. Litanies of liars, parades of panderers, pettifoggers and agents provocateurs. Victims actual, victims false, victims in procession. Faux prophets, D-lister celeb cons, slimey scum lawyers, rent-a-liars, DNC operatives, Hillary shills, synthetic protests. Rent-a-ruckus screamers and elevator ninja button-holers with all the hoots and hollers permanently recorded. All the while giving the unsuspected the impression that these seemingly de minimis straggler gaggles represented the country. That they were representative and represented. That they were the voice of America. Bwahahaha! Not by a long shot, Sparky. Not by a long shot.

Mass hysteria as spectator sport. This was an ochlocracy: perfect, pure and simple. Swarms and mobs, gaggles, flocks and passels, herds and schools — murmurations and formations of the easily moved (and paid Soros-style). All swept up in the moment and the frenzy and the communal siren call of publicity. A giant LOOK AT ME! moment forever captured, catalogued and memorialized. An incoherent moment, mind you. But a moment nonetheless. And they provided invaluable and priceless B-roll fodder for Trump media armies. “Is this the America you want?” It was that simple. If you want to see what mayhem looks like, here’s Exhibit A. Bravo, DNC. You stepped in it again. Just think what the critical Independent vote thinks after watching this freak show. As Cruise’s Jack Reacher noted: “Remember, you wanted this.”

Meanwhile the Daughters Kavanaugh et ux. had to endure a horror that is best described as devastating and PTSD-inspiring. Their father and husband was called, no, shouted a rapist nonstop without surcease and at full volume. Rapist! Not conservative zealot or even right-winger or the usual playbook pejoratives. No. He was called rapist in full bellow chant. You know those children were the subject of taunts and whispers and could hear the incessant libels against their father. But, look. Those are the breaks, right? I mean that’s what the purveyors of hate spew. Right-wingers should expect that. These are the times and those are the breaks. So vile are these rent-a-loons they actually take glee in seeing their objects suffer. But I think I know how to return the favor.

But where did these people get the idea they could terrorize innocent victims aka Trump supporters or staff? Does this ring a bell? “If you think we’re rallying now you ain’t seen nothing yet,” Rep. Maxine Waters, D-Calif, told supporters at a rally in Los Angeles this past June. “If you see anybody from that (Trump) Cabinet in a restaurant, in a department store, at a gasoline station, you get out and you create a crowd and you push back on them, and you tell them they’re not welcome anymore, anywhere.” Can you say “incitement,” Ms. Waters? I can. The Wig may have finally lost it.

What process is due? And let’s see if this rings a bell. The idea and cornerstone of our due process guarantees: (1) the right to confront witnesses, (2) the right to the presumption of innocence and (3) the right to insist that anyone making a claim prove it. How simple. You accuse me, prove it. And if I say not a word or utter a peep in defense or to explain, that cannot in any wise be used against me and you still lose. You have the burden of proof. And extraneous and “similar fact evidence,” streams and chains of irrelevant, unsubstantiated whispers and rumors, decades old vague references to moments occluded and obfuscated by and through the fog of alcohol, age, bad memory and the nasty unpredictability of the lie gone south — they do not a valid claim make. The contrived, orchestrated and manufactured fantasy conjectures from attention-starved witnesses represented in turn by impuissant, soulless charlatans and attention whores all blended and melded together into a latticework of unimaginable horror leading the unsuspecting to think there must be something to some of this. Right? Certainly no one could imagine and manufacture all this. And that was the hope precisely. We were told repeatedly that incredulity was not an option when it came to the good Doctor. We must believe all women all the time for all accusations. All women except the accusers of Bill Clinton.

They doubled down on the refrain. Rape victims never lie. They must be believed and their claims never questioned. They must never be subject to cross-examination or story validation and corroboration. Rapists lie. That’s their M.O. That’s what they do. #MeToo, remember?

But certain history begs to differ. Do you recall the University of Virginia rape case? The Duke Lacrosse team tragedy? What about Mattress Girl? Tawana Brawley, the poster child for false allegations.

Enough. We must move on.

#MAGA2018. It’s been 1210 days since President Donald Trump announced he was running for President, 699 days since he was elected, 626 days since he was inaugurated and it’s only 28 days to the 2018 Midterms. And during the aforementioned periods and in view of the last, what has been the Democrats’ message? Tell me.  What are their hopes, goals, intentions, wishes, dreams, platforms, plans, programs, ideas, vision? Anyone? Anybody? Hello?

Read this carefully. Pay particular note. Donald Trump might very well be the greatest President in my lifetime. How this man has been able to captivate, motivate and scintillate huge swaths of Americans is nothing sort of astounding. He devastated the best and (sorta) brightest of the GOP contenders, wiping the floor with them. Bernie was obliterated through the Oven Mitt Fashionista herself after being apparently threatened and/or aggressively persuaded to cease and desist instanter. And speaking of Shillary, who brought back the Mao jacket and reptilian exoskeleton back brace as fashion accessory, her disintegration and implosion are ones for the history books. POTUS’s HRC target now is obtainable through Huber or Sessions, viz. to have her indicted for any of the series of possible charges that are available. She has flouted the law and her responsibility for too long. #OvenMitt4Git

This is my 30^thyear in professional political and legal commentary and analysis. I have never enjoyed it more than now and cannot even imagine it getting better. But something tells me it will. Thank you for sharing this with me. Admit it, you’ve never felt more alive.

God bless America.

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On Saturday, January 19, 2019 CE the 2019 Lionel CONSPIRATORIUM TOUR returns to the hallowed, fabled and famed Cutting Room in New York City. The last show was the stuff of legend, a full house and full court press. An evening of (out)spoken word and the immaculate twang of Mother Bluegrass with my Lock ‘n Load Trio. You’ll be astounded and mesmerized, stopped right in your tracks along with fellow truth warriors and liberty sentries. Tickets go quickly as does the righteousness of the demented so please secure your appointment with history. Click here, s’il vous plait for tickets and get ready. I want to meet everyone individually so make time accordingly.

In the mean time follow me on Twitter, Facebook, my Lionel Media website and browse the merch and marketing at the Official Lionel Nation Gear Store and above all, the Lionel Nation YouTube Channel where I engage in immersive, totally interactive live stream broadcasts twice daily at 8 AM and 7 PM ETwithout fail, delay or apology. It leaves antediluvian talk radio in the dust.

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