Tag: Uncola

A LITTLE LATE TO THE SHOW SENATOR JOHNSON

I find it infuriatingly amusing that our jackass politicians are only three and a half years behind when it comes to the truth about the Covid plandemic. Accolades go to Uncola, who was writing about Event 201 in early March 2020, as he smelled a rat from the very beginning. Event 201 was the subject of numerous articles on this site, but now it isn’t a conspiracy theory because some dimwit in the Senate just woke up. TBP called out this scamdemic from the very beginning. Not many other sites did.

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A Silhouette in the Sunset

Guest post by Uncola

His mother was born in Kansas.  His father hailed from Kenya.  These star-crossed lovers met in a Russian Language class at the University of Hawaii in 1960.  A year later, he was born on August 4, 1961. Even today, his origin of birth remains a topic of national concern.  In fact, the subject of his birth certificate was recently raised by the NBC moderator, Lester Holt, during the presidential debate on September 26, 2016.  This, in turn, fomented a very heated discussion between the presidential candidates:  Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton.

His origin of birth was first challenged during the primaries for the 2008 presidential election by his then opponent, Hillary Clinton.  The controversy was later claimed to be settled upon the release of his long-form birth certificate in 2011.  However, many today still claim his long-form birth certificate is a fake.  Multiple electronic document experts currently contend the document uploaded by the White House is not a scanned version of the original long-form, paper birth certificate.  It is instead, a “nine-layered” document with many electronically added overlays proving it to be assembled digitally as opposed to being an exact copy of the original.

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How to Transplant a Human Head

Guest post by Uncola

Mary Shelly was born in London, England in 1797. Her father was a respected intellectual and her mother, Mary Wollstonecraft, was an early feminist and author. At age 17, Mary eloped with a previously married poet five years her senior by the name of Percy Bysshe Shelly. Mary did not live a charmed life to say the least. Death surrounded her. She had several miscarriages and eventually lost her only living child.

Years later, in 1816, when the Shellys were vacationing at Lord Byron’s castle in Geneva, Switzerland; Byron challenged his guests to a competition to see who could write the most frightening scientific horror story. A few nights later while dreaming in the dark castle chambers of Lord Byron, a lightning bolt struck deep into Mary Shelly’s mind and she began to conjure up a tale regarding the reanimating of the dead. Within a few years, Frankenstein, “The Modern Prometheus”, was born as was a new literary genre: Science Fiction.

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No Time For Losers

Guest Post by Uncola

At any given social gathering when an argument erupts between two people, there is usually one individual who exits the situation in a huff leaving the other involved party to eat their dust.  This is when the remaining opposing party begins pleading in earnest with the onlookers, asking: “What happened?  What did I do? Why are they upset?”

And so it is with battered women and their abusive partners; long suffering husbands and their wicked wives;  the Alt-right movement against the Mainstream Right; Trump supporters versus the Establishment and the New Media Vanguards against the old, outdated and abrogated Fourth Estate.

In my own experience, more often than not, the one left behind who is feigning innocence and making ignorant inquiries is the guilty party.  And, in most of these circumstances, over and above their specific culpabilities, the questions I more want to understand are as follows:

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Ford, We Hardly Knew Ye…

Guest Post by Uncola

My first car was a very pre-owned, 1971 Ford Thunderbird.  I was only 14 years old when I bought it and I didn’t even have my full driver’s license.  Since I only had my driver’s permit at the time, my dad had to accompany me on the first test-drive.  The ’71 T-bird is by no means considered a “classic” in the way that a Chevy “Chevelle” would be viewed today, but, back then, I thought it was pretty cool.

My bird was calf-shit brown with a white leather interior.  It was a 2-door Hardtop with a Thunder Jet 429 V-8,  Cruise-O-Matic tranny, an eight-track player and it had very unique amphitheater-like, curved rear seats.  By today’s standards, it was a giant land yacht of a car and just opening its heavy driver’s door was harder than bench-pressing my maximum weight at wrestling practice.

One time, when my parents were out if town, two of my buddies and I decided to take an illegal road trip to a nearby state park.  On the way back I put the pedal to the metal on a long, straight and narrow blacktop.  At 98 miles an hour it started to sputter and cough, then after a burst of bluish black smoke exploding from its aftermarket glass packs, we took off faster than Neil Armstrong heading moonward.

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Hear No Evil. See No Evil. Vote No Evil.

Guest Post by Uncola

Yesterday, September 12th 2016, after a long, hard day of working, internet surfing, reading and posting comments on various blogs, I couldn’t help but feel somewhat optimistic regarding “Hillary’s 911” and its potential effect on the outcome of this year’s presidential election.  The Drudge Report has been mercilessly hammering the health of the Harpy the last few days with what must seem horrific headlines to those on the Left and within The Establishment overall.

In fact, the girls over at the Huffington Post yesterday appeared to be convulsing apoplectically over this fiasco given that one of their main stories reported on the twitchiest of Tweets from those well-wishing the Hemorrhaging Hilda.  One Twittering from a middling comedian by the name of Patton Oswalt said this:

“Wait, so Hillary has PNEUMONIA and she’s still campaigning as hard as she is? You realize how badass that is, right?”

Forget about the video showing Hillary being thrown into a black van like a chloroformed child onto Jeffrey Epstein’s Boeing 727 bound for the Virgin Islands.  Forget about CNN refusing to report  on the eyewitness who saw Hillary faint, and claiming instead she was helped into a van but didn’t fall over.

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Cruel to be Kind, in the Wrong Measure

Guest Post by Uncola

For years now, we have seen political correctness pervade into every facet of our existence.  Ostensibly, being presented as “kindness”, it has now progressed into full frontal attacks daily on our First Amendment rights here in the U.S. and the complete abandonment of common sense throughout Europe.

In the workplace today, diversity quite often supersedes competence.  And, at colleges, where free thinking should most be cultivated, students turned snowflakes, are now encouraged to shelter in place within pre-ordained safe spaces that are apparently guarded by thought police.

What happened?  Because I am beginning to believe that political correctness has become more of a death wish as opposed to kindness.

The Dalai Lama has stated:  “Be kind whenever possible.  It is always possible.”

Is it really always possible?  And even if it was:  Is it advisable?  Is it wise?

William Shakespeare wrote the following in “Hamlet”:  “I must be cruel only to be kind.  Thus bad begins and worse remains behind.”

So who is right?

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