The Communist Supercar

No, it's ironic, but it's no joke. 

BYD said the Denza Z featured “shattering high performance” with over 1,000 hp and the ability to sprint from 0 to 62 mph (0 to 100 km/h) in less than two seconds, it didn’t reveal specifics.... 

[New details show] the four-seat EV roadster is slightly larger than the Porsche 911 and closer in size to the Mercedes-AMG GT Coupe. The Denza Z is more powerful than both, with the 911 Turbo S delivering up to 701 hp and the Mercedes-AMG GT Coupe offering up to 1,153 hp.

BYD’s electric supercar can reach a top speed of 217 mph and weighs 5,842 lbs (2,650 kg) for the hardtop version.

The Denza Z will be available with a soft top and a souped-up track package that gains a massive rear wing spoiler.

Nearly six thousand pounds moving at over two hundred miles an hour is a lot of F=ma. That Mercedes is closer to three and a half. Wonder how good the spoiler is? How about the brakes? 

It's strange to see luxury goods coming out of a Communist country; being consumed there by connected elites, certainly, but actually produced there? It seems like that should hardly be a priority in the Five Year Plan. 

Well, what do I know? I'm not a Communist. 

Memories of a young Marine

I think I may have mentioned here some time ago that my uncle, late in his life, gave an interview to preserve his memories of taking Okinawa, including seeing Japanese residents throwing their infant children off a cliff and killing themselves, for fear of what they'd been told the Americans would do to them. This is the transcript, quite brief. When they left Okinawa they expected to be sent to Japan to do more of the same, but worse. Then suddenly the war was over. My uncle was born in 1922, so he was 20 when he joined up and 23 or so at the time he recounts here. He died in 2013, aged 91. The first his children heard of these experiences was when he gave the interview in 2005.

Proper Hate

I had been told that hate was always wrong; apparently that's not operative any longer.

SpaceX is set to make Elon Musk the first trillionaire. Here’s how to properly hate him

There are competing schools of thought about the accumulation of wealth, among them the anarchist claim that “property is theft” and the Gordon Gekko theory of greed as a star-spangled virtue.... The more compelling argument against billionaires has to do not with the ethical implications of the extreme inequality that they arguably promote, but with the adverse real-world consequences, which you don’t have to be a fire-breathing Marxist to acknowledge. There is plenty of evidence that extreme inequality produces inferior and even perverse social outcomes.... But if [Elon Musk is] a stain on capitalism, it’s not because of his wealth. It’s because he exemplifies the idea of government as the plaything of plutocrats who shamelessly bend public policy toward private advantage. It may be difficult to excite class warfare in a culture that worships wealth, but people like Mr. Musk make it a whole lot easier.

Those aren't useful instructions; the headline writer has misled us. It's just griping. 

The good argument in favor of billionaires -- trillionaires, now -- is that one person can make a decision about how to deploy substantial capital in efficient ways that a government, a corporation, or a committee can never. Musk is building space rockets and tunneling equipment that could build a Mars colony because he wants to, not because of fiduciary duty or because spreadsheets suggest it is wise. We are lucky that the world's richest man loves Buck Rogers rather than Karl Marx.

Concentrations of political power are always pernicious, and wealth is one way that power can be concentrated. To say that we got lucky is to acknowledge that it could have gone the other way; indeed, it has done, as with several rich men who might be named. 

If you were wanting the promised instruction on how to hate properly, however, here is Chesterton:

         "Up on the old white road, brothers,

          Up on the Roman walls!

          For this is the night of the drawing of swords,

          And the tainted tower of the heathen hordes

          Leans to our hammers, fires and cords,

          Leans a little and falls.

          "Follow the star that lives and leaps,

          Follow the sword that sings,

          For we go gathering heathen men,

          A terrible harvest, ten by ten,

          As the wrath of the last red autumn—then

          When Christ reaps down the kings.

          "Follow a light that leaps and spins,

          Follow the fire unfurled!

          For riseth up against realm and rod,

          A thing forgotten, a thing downtrod,

          The last lost giant, even God,

          Is risen against the world."

          Roaring they went o'er the Roman wall,

          And roaring up the lane,

          Their torches tossed a ladder of fire,

          Higher their hymn was heard and higher,

          More sweet for hate and for heart's desire,

          And up in the northern scrub and brier,

          They fell upon the Dane.

Wandering into a Minefield

The Swedish athlete mentioned yesterday:

Many people helpfully explained that “some items are stolen more than others.” That’s true! And it’s a very reasonable question to ask. 

Forbidden Speech

A man in Scotland writes, but has to channel it through an American because he is now forbidden to say it aloud.

Once upon a time, North America was effectively Britain overseas. The colonists were Britons. They had British rights, British liberties, British privileges. Magna Carta. The Bill of Rights 1689. Around seventeen other Constitutional Statutes still technically in force.

Then King George decided Americans had lost their right to keep arms for their own defence, and that taxation without representation was perfectly acceptable. The rest, as they say, is history. The United States of America was born, and its citizens kept all of their old British rights and added God-given ones on top of them....

In 1920, Britain introduced its first serious Firearms Act. Before that, Britain had fewer gun restrictions than Texas.

Understand why it happened. It was not about crime. It was about preserving the Executive from its own people, specifically from any possibility of the kind of popular uprising that had just remade Russia. Protecting the ruling class. Nothing more, nothing less.

The constitutional safeguard of the citizen militia has also effectively been erased. It is almost impossible to find in Britain today.

If you keep reading, you find the criticism against the Administrative State that Weber mentions (see commentary on the sidebar). It overwhelms self-governance and replaces it with raw power. 

For our German Visitor

Here was the song he was running down the road.

The song sets it up as a reference to an older piece, though, and it is.

Here's a version with Merle Haggard, to link it up with our more usual era.

A German Travels the South

Apparently there's a soccer series going on right now that has brought a bunch of foreign soccer players to America. Soccer is not an American game -- it is the least interesting and exciting of the many variations of games with uninterrupted play ranging from one side of a field to another attempting to score goals. Americans have several better variations that we play, including indoor ones like basketball and hockey. Cherokee Stickball is another game of this sort. All of these are faster-paced and more interesting, so we don't much pay attention to the soccer version; I'm not quite sure why they've having the games here this time. 

However, what I have been enjoying is the joyous reactions of one of the traveling Germans to things he's been finding across the South. These things are well-known to me, and it's nice to see how much fun he is having. 

For example, here he is attending one of these games at a Southern-style university stadium (Auburn, as it happens). He is astonished by this experience. 

Before that, the hotel receptionist gave them a ride to the stadium because it was raining.

Before that Chattanooga; dinner at Chili's; visiting the beautiful mountain lakes. 

Before that Georgia; Brasstown Bald (it is in fact an alpine rainforest around here, by the way); American fast food; tubing on the Chattahoochee; Helen; Waffle House; Stone Mountain.

Interspersed among them, scenes driving down the long American highways listening to country radio.

Last night they visited Buc-ee's and ate dinner on stacks of deer feed corn.

It's nice to see someone taking such evident pleasure in visiting the South. 

UPDATE: Apparently there's a Swedish player having a similar experience in the Mid-West.

Post Hoc Ergo Propter Hoc

A named fallacy, but:

A fallacy doesn't mean it's wrong, it just means that logic can't guarantee truth preservation. Fallacious reasoning could produce a true conclusion; it's just that the truth is empirical or accidental rather than guaranteed by the form of reason.

Cats & Dogs Living Together

In retrospect, Belfast was probably the wrong place to pull this. 

UPDATE: New terrorist group 'just dropped,' as the kids say.

You were saying........ https://t.co/7VVuU1scbb pic.twitter.com/Hr2OzF7D9h

— Not A Number (@myhiddenvalue) June 9, 2026

A Britina Looks on Texas Manhood

Now, for the record, I haven't said anything about James Talarico: the only mentions of him here have come from Texan99, who is as advertised a Texan and whose business this candidacy therefore is. If I were to say something about him, it would be to question not his manhood but his theology; not his testosterone but his sense. However, it is true that some folks like Colonel Kurt* have mixed those critiques.

In Texas, they picked a white male Democrat who makes Tim Walz look like Sylvester Stallone—he’d be particularly excited about the getting oiled-up part. James Talarico could be kindly called gender ambiguous, but there’s no real ambiguity. He’s a male in the way that Boone’s Farm is a wine.

Talarico, of course, also allowed them to try the Christian grift. They know about as much about Jesus followers as they do about dudes. It was kind of hilarious how they were completely blind to the fact that all his stuff about Jesus is heretical blasphemy. It was beyond their comprehension that there might be different kinds of Christians—in this case, Christians who are Christian as opposed to pseudo-Christians who subscribe to whatever kind of Unitarian pinko baloney this little demon spews. The fact that he thinks meat is murder doesn’t help, and until Graham Platner’s latest revelations, Talarico’s laughable attempts to convince us that he was down with a hot Latina chick—she was not hot and there was no way they were down to anything—were the funniest meme in American politics.

I think the good colonel is on stronger ground in his criticism of the choice of Platner, to whit, that their view of men is so toxic that his own extreme toxicity made him seem authentic to them. That's a genuine blindness arising from their bubble and their worldview. Something like that is going on with Talarico's version of Christianity, if it is indeed a version of Christianity; but it's a very big tent, as no less than Chesterton pointed out. 

Still, this female Briton has some harsh words for American judges of manhood. (Also a great line: "I recommend watching the clip of Watters and Miller in full, because Miller has the kind of natural comic gifts that usually persuade people to forsake a career in stand-up and become a funeral director instead.") 

She comes around to the idea that the two criticisms are linked: that the debate over the theology is also a debate over the kind of Jesus people are imagining. How muscular a Christianity? In Texas, I would have imagined a fairly muscular one. Less so in other places; it's a big tent. 

UPDATE: Perhaps they're on to something, actually. Collins leads among voters until they are informed of Platner's scandals -- then he takes a commanding lead.

Shockingly, when voters are informed of sexual assault rumors, Platner improves, leading by 8.1%

This confirms suspicions that Democrats may be looking for their own Trump. Even more surprisingly, 75% of voter age 18-29 support Platner after being informed of the rumors.

'This confirms... that... may be' is a bad formulation. That remains a theory; this might be evidence for that theory, but not confirmation. 

However, it does suggest that Platner's viciousness is being taken as a strong positive by previously undecided voters. What is surprising is that many who were going to vote for Collins switch; maybe an accused sexual abuser with Nazi and male-rape fantasies is exactly what they've been looking for? That seems like the thing they've been railing against for a decade. If you can't beat 'em, I guess the Democrats are thinking.

* That Kurt article uses the word "normal" seven times. I've met Colonel (R) Kurt Schlichter through our mutual friend Jim Hanson, and Kurt is a wild and crazy guy. How strong his claim on the idea of "normality" is I would consider an open question; certainly not normal in the sense of ordinary. Why would you want to be that? 

I'm not myself, not nearly; what is wanted is to be exceptional in some good or virtuous way. That isn't normal: the ordinary course which gives rise to the norms is to make exceptions to the exceptional standards to allow for an easy, humane middle way that ordinary people can achieve. Getting there is easy, but it isn't especially good. It shouldn't be something to take as the proper end of an action or a life, a fact these two gentlemen know well since both have numerous exceptional accomplishments each.

An Asheville Run

I hadn't been to Asheville in a long time. For some reason I kind of felt like it today.

The road out there is nice, anyway.

Devil's Courthouse, which you probably are familiar with by now.

This one is called the Pounding Mill Overlook. That's Looking Glass Rock in the left foreground. 

Same shot with a filter to alter the sky color, so you can zoom in and see how far the rippling mountains extend.

They must have known I was coming! This was happily located right across from my favorite pizza joint, The Mellow Mushroom.

Some window glare in this shot, but it's a skeleton riding a motorcycle shop in an outfitting store featuring knives and other wilderness goods.

A common sign. The small print warms my heart. I wish I believed they really meant it: nothing is more authentic to these mountains than resistance to Federal agents, whether moonshine agents or otherwise. I fear they'd be the first ones to hand you in to a Democratic administration. Maybe not though!

It was a very pleasant afternoon with only a short visit downtown, and a long ride in the countryside each way. One of the things I don't hate about Asheville is how small it is: it's a real city for a few square miles, and then you're in the country again right away. It's crazy in town, but it's only a few miles back to freedom when you're done taking the sights. 

Death is Cheap

As I occasionally mention, if unborn Americans count as Americans then abortion is the leading cause of death of all Americans. In Canada, it's getting to be "suicide," which in this case is really the government killing its own citizens. So far, they've sort-of been getting permission -- albeit often extorted by a refusal to provide other treatment for painful conditions for very long periods of time, so that if you won't take the 'suicide' you will be left to suffer for many months or years. 

Sounds like they've come around to the idea that there's still more money to be saved.

We noted that, “From a government bean counter’s perspective, the more suicides the better.” (See “Canada Shows The Gruesome Side Of Socialized Healthcare.”)

This week, we came across a study published in the OMEGA — Journal of Death and Dying that “explores the potential economic savings from expanding medical assistance in dying (MAID) in Canada.”

What would the country save, the authors ask, if the program were expanded “to include vulnerable groups that cost the government more than they contribute in taxes”?

These include “individuals with severe mental health issues, the homeless, drug users, retired elderly, and indigenous communities.” The researchers looked at “both voluntary and non-voluntary scenarios.”

Emphasis added. It's just a theoretical study, of course. Nothing to worry about.

Hey, wasn't some female politician ruthlessly mocked -- some lady from Alaska -- for warning about "death panels" empowered to make decisions about when you cost too much to deserve treatment? Something about how government-run health care might lead to that? Palin, maybe her name was. Sarah.

Well, that's ancient history I guess. This is the exciting new world:

Lo and behold, the savings are significant — up to nearly $1.3 trillion over the next 20 years if Canada went the “non-voluntary” route.

“For example,” the authors note, “for the retired elderly population, the savings could be $54.2 billion in the voluntary scenario or as high as $1.2 trillion in a non-voluntary scenario.” There’s even more money to be saved if the state dropped the requirement that doctors administer the drugs and let the work be outsourced.

Sure, that makes sense. No reason you'd need to be a doctor to kill somebody. Anybody can do that. I've seen it done. 

Room 101*

Given how much suspicion of Israel there is on the Left and the Right today, you'd think this would be comforting. [Probably paywalled; NYT]

Israel and the United States have long known, and tolerated, that each was spying on the other. But an intensified Israeli effort to learn about U.S. positions in talks with Iran has crossed a line, according to some American officials... 

Another report, written by the Defense Intelligence Agency and other military intelligence offices and focused on earlier events going back several years, said that the counterintelligence threat level posed by Israel had been increased in recent weeks to the top level, from high to critical. The report, to which the Defense Counterintelligence and Security Agency contributed, outlines various efforts by Israel to spy on American military personnel and government officials.

Assuming the report is accurate, which seems likely enough, the threat level was already assessed as "high," and is now "critical." Formal reports were drawn up about it, and action taken within the CI infrastructure. That doesn't quite line up with the popular view of our government as crawling to obey Israeli orders. I tend to think that the Israelis are a bit over their skis on Iran, having used up a substantial quantity of their intelligence advantages there as a set of favors to back American action. It'll take them years or decades to recover those advantages if they need to do.

* The title is a Roman Numeral joke; 101 is "CI." When I was at CENTCOM, they had decided to rename their Public Affairs to 'Communications Integration,' giving them the same initials as 'Counterintelligence.' You should have seen people's faces when somebody from Public Affairs would drop by to chat and some yeoman would inform the officer in charge that "CI is here to talk to you." 

Defense Department Greatly Reduces Religious Support

From Military.com:

Military.com has learned that the Department of Defense, for the first time in almost 10 years, has dramatically reduced its number of recognized religious faiths and belief systems by approximately 180... decreasing the total number of faiths from 211 to its new number of 31. The changes were iterated in a May 20, 2026, memorandum issued by the Under Secretary of War and signed by Anthony Tata, under secretary of defense for personnel and readiness[.]

Under Secretary Tata has a serious military service record, so I don't take him to be doing the usual political trolling here. He has some sort of serious purpose in mind. I haven't seen the memorandum, so I don't know how he justified this shift.

I find it noteworthy that of 31 recognized religions, 22 are Christian variations. Islam -- which has Sunni and Shia sects, for example -- gets only one; Judaism gets only one;  rather astonishingly, Agnostic remains a recognized religion even though it isn't actually one, as does "No Religion." There is a catchall "Other Religions" code that presumably will be applied to everyone who has been registered as one of the 180 formerly-recognized religions, so just because their faith will no longer be recognized by the military doesn't mean that they'll be forced into one of the remaining categories. 

My guess is what they are trying to cut down on is chaplain training hours, but that still makes it strange that you'd have 22 specific variations of one religion and one or none for the others, even faiths with large numbers of practitioners worldwide like Hinduism, Islam, or Judaism. 

What will be of significance to me is if the VA follows up by removing the emblems of belief of the no-longer-recognized religions from eligibility for military headstones. 

Shel Silverstein Poems

I imagine that these are familiar to some or all of you, but they're fun nonetheless.

Falling Up

I tripped on my shoelace
And I fell up—
Up to the roof tops,
Up over the town,
Up past the tree tops,
Up over the mountains,
Up where the colors
Blend into the sounds.
But it got me so dizzy
When I looked around,
I got sick to my stomach
And I threw down.

Sick

“I cannot go to school today,”
Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
“I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash and purple bumps.
My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,
I’m going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks,
I’ve counted sixteen chicken pox
And there’s one more—that’s seventeen,
And don’t you think my face looks green?
My leg is cut—my eyes are blue—
It might be instamatic flu.
I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
I’m sure that my left leg is broke—
My hip hurts when I move my chin,
My belly button’s caving in,
My back is wrenched, my ankle’s sprained,
My ’pendix pains each time it rains.
My nose is cold, my toes are numb.
I have a sliver in my thumb.
My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth,
I think my hair is falling out.
My elbow’s bent, my spine ain’t straight,
My temperature is one-o-eight.
My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,
There is a hole inside my ear.
I have a hangnail, and my heart is—what?
What’s that? What’s that you say?
You say today is . . . Saturday?
G’bye, I’m going out to play!”

And here's a song Shel wrote, though it's more famous sung by Johnny Cash.

Alexander Muse has been publishing excellent essays this year. On Iran's purported victory lap:

[A] closed strait [of Hormuz] is a chokehold on Iran’s own windpipe, because the overwhelming share of Iran’s trade and oil exports must pass through that same water.... A chokepoint you can obstruct but cannot profit from, defended by a navy that no longer exists, is not a lever of power. It is a siege, and Iran is on the losing side of it.

... The essay’s hidden premise is continuity, an Iran picking up where it left off, only leaner and bolder. Compare the two trajectories honestly. The Iran of the road not taken had a maturing missile and drone industry, a rebuilding air-defense network, an intact ring of proxies, and Hormuz leverage backed by a genuine fleet, all of it shielding a nuclear program as it advanced toward a survivable deterrent. The Iran of June 2026 has a defense-industrial base gutted by 90%, a navy measured in decades of repair, proxies severed and fending for themselves, an economy in freefall, and a command structure Cooper described as “shattered.” The first Iran was being built. The second is being salvaged.

[The uranium] ... sounds like a card Tehran still holds. It is closer to a noose. A stockpile is not a deterrent by itself. A deterrent requires a survivable means to build, conceal, and deliver a weapon, and an air-defense umbrella to keep the effort alive long enough to matter. Iran has lost all three. Nasr himself warns that ordinary Iranians increasingly see the bomb as their only shield. Precisely so. A hollowed-out state whose last available move is a dash toward a weapon it cannot protect is not safer for having the material. It is more exposed, because that dash is the single act most certain to summon the finishing blow the regime has so far been spared by President Trump.

Endorsed

Some of us get both the Seax and the Dirk, I would think. 

It's sad that there was a murder, but the carrying of a Kirpan is one of the best features of any religion. I strongly hold to approximately the same values as undergird that practice, even if I don't share their religious context at all.

Jokes on the Occasion of Pride Month

If any of you happen to be gay, allow me to convey that I don't have anything against it; indeed, the longer I live with a woman the more I can see the appeal. It's just not in me, you know? 

That to the side, there are some great memes this year for marking the occasion.

UPDATE: Ok, jokes are always fraught, but c'mon. Some of this is funny stuff.

The primary-defector pool that doesn't follow through

I recommend Alexander Muse's substack. This is a thoughtful article about the very slight impact on a general election of a bitterly contested primary fight, which is instructive in the case of Cornyn vs. Paxton. Frankly, not even Cornyn himself is urging the absurd choice of a Talarico (give me a break) vote in protest against the impervious horrors of a Paxton victory.

Lonna Rae Atkeson’s seminal paper “Moving Toward Unity” in American Politics Quarterly found that supporters of losing primary candidates revert to the eventual nominee at predictable rates as the general election approaches. Jeffrey Lazarus, writing in Legislative Studies Quarterly, established that the apparent correlation between divisive primaries and weaker general-election performance is not causal at all, but a joint product of candidate quality and pre-primary expectations. Fouirnaies and Hall at Stanford in confirmed that in base-state seats with partisan leans above 7 points, the measurable divisive-primary penalty is statistically indistinguishable from zero. Texas leans R+10 to R+13. It is the cleanest possible case for the proposition that the primary will leave no footprint on the general election.

But the historical record is where this argument lives or dies. The frame is simple. The runner-up’s coalition comes home. It has always come home. The mechanism is what political scientists call partisan reversion, and it has been visible in every contested base-state primary of the modern era.

It Is Time for Us to Become Poets

For the Sake of a Single Poem, by Rainer Maria Rilke

… Ah, poems amount to so little when you write them too early in your life. You ought to wait and gather sense and sweetness for a whole lifetime, and a long one if possible, and then, at the very end, you might perhaps be able to write ten good lines. For poems are not, as people think, simply emotions (one has emotions early enough) – they are experiences. For the sake of a single poem, you must see many cities, many people and Things, you must understand animals, must feel how birds fly, and know the gesture which small flowers make when they open in the morning. You must be able to think back to streets in unknown neighborhoods, to unexpected encounters, and to partings you had long seen coming; to days of childhood whose mystery is still unexplained, to parents whom you had to hurt when they brought in a joy and you didn’t pick it up (it was a joy meant for somebody else-); to childhood illnesses that began so strangely with so many profound and difficult transformations, to days in quiet, restrained rooms and to mornings by the sea, to the sea itself, to seas, to nights of travel that rushed along high overhead and went flying with all the stars, – and it is still not enough to be able to think of all that. You must have memories of many nights of love, each one different from all the others, memories of women screaming in labor, and of light, pale, sleeping girls who have just given birth and are closing again. But you must also have been beside the dying, must have sat beside the dead in the room with the open window and scattered noises. And it is not yet enough to have memories. You must be able to forget them when they are many, and you must have the immense patience to wait until they return. For the memories themselves are not important. Only when they have changed into our very blood, into glance and gesture, and are nameless, no longer to be distinguished from ourselves – only then can it happen that in some very rare hour the first word of a poem arises in their midst and goes forth from them.