1. I asked Grok/AI how many Americans now have a communist-anti-capitalistic attitude now?
Grok said.....14-percent. But then Grok said....another 18-percent seem to be leaning this way. Population-wise? If you do the rough numbers....it's near 40-to-45 million people thinking this way.
Then Grok noted....among over-age-50...it's near zero-percent thinking this way. But among the 18-to-29 folks....it's near 39-percent thinking this way.
Crazy times.
2. I noted this AM.....Massachusetts Governor Maura Healey (D) appointed Giselle Byrd, a man pretending to be a woman, to the ‘Massachusetts Commission on the Status of Women’ which advises on policy to improve opportunities for women.
I paused over this...woman-pretender to fill the void. There are probably too many women converting to trans-men/trans-lads....a state-shortage. That's the only way this makes sense.
3. All SNAP beneficiaries will need to reapply for benefits.
Odds of Dem-states fighting this? 100-percent. Odds of judges trying to halt this? 100-percent.
Most European countries? They run their program where you are constantly establishing your situation, and that you applied for jobs.
1 comment:
Two:
That tooty-frooty TRANSVESTITE would be man-pretty, library-reading-to-impressionable-minds, flouncing and tottering on his Size 23 high-heels... with longer eyelashes.
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Sorry.
Easy target.
I should aim higher.
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Nice wig-hat.
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An aside:
Eugene, Oregon, fUSA.
A couple decades ago, I did my mandatory once-a-decade walk-through of the local shopping-maul.
And, between the gun-shops and fishing-gear stores, alongside the ranch and farm supplies stores, and next to the information booth for our local volunteer militias, I saw a wig-hat store.
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To this day, the incongruence still halts my breath and derails my tiny gerbil-wheels.
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Standing stunned on the threshold without daring tread inside, I saw one wall display with hundreds of wildly-colored wig-hats, their tints and tones at-odds with any naturally occurring plumage yet discovered by diligent professional researchers.
Nor the casual observant amateur for that matter.
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I remember standing at the entrance, utterly at a loss, the ability to form coherent sentences escaping me.
Fortunately, somehow subconsciously, I retained my continence.
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