Friday Fun Bag: Return of Ratibor?

Plus an angry, angry Nazi

Sober June is going just fine, thank you for asking.

One week in.

And I’ll admit, I’m feeling less “funny.” The world just ain’t as humorous when not viewed through the cockeyed lens of sweet mama booze.

For example…

NAZI RAGE

So I’m watching the video that got neo-Nazi Holocaust denier (and Elon Musk’s personal cause célèbre) Angelo “Lucas” Gage Twitter-banned (briefly, unlike my perma-ban) earlier this year, and the guy’s driving around ranting about how Jews are “demons” and he’s gonna “fucking slay” us (I was only watching the video to ensure that I quoted Gage accurately in last week’s column).

The thing is, even among Nazis there are varieties of “vibe.” Fuentes makes sure to have just enough of a smarmy shiteating grin that he can always retreat to “hey, I’m doin’ satire! I’m an ironybro!”

Same deal with Anglin.

Keith Woods tries to come off as “intellectual.” Meathead Jake Shields does the Unzian “hey, I’m just asking qwestchins” thing.

But Gage? Jesus, you hear the homicidal rage in that guy’s voice. Disgruntled ex-military, experienced with firearms, self-described PTSD headcase, massive anger issues, and clearly, from his halting manner of speaking, as though his brain has to stop to search for each word, dreadfully low-IQ.

If he had any more red flags, he’d be China.

Gage is the ultimate white Daquan. Not living a bad life at all, but thinkin’ he be oppressed. Always angry and unhappy, but unwilling to put the blame where it belongs - his low IQ, minimal brain damage, and poor impulse control, and his own life choices.

But I’ll tell you what struck me, watching the video of this maniac, whose complaints against Jews are terribly serious (“I once got banned from social media!” “I insult them and they insult me back on Twitter - boooo-hooo-hooo-hooooooo!”): Gage is a…no, THE walking advertisement for the ADL.

You show any Jew that Gage video, they’ll write a check to the ADL faster than Ali Alexander writes a hush-money check to his latest boytoy. Because Gage makes it real. For too long the ADL chased phantoms. Me, Mark Weber, David Irving, even dumb ol’ Bradley Smith. We were never a threat. Gage presents a genuine threat, and the fact that Elon coddles him proves that Elon was just going through the motions during that ADL-sponsored Auschwitz apology tour.

Which might initially make you squeal “alright! Go Elon!” until you realize that everyone’s a villain in this tale. The bullies at the ADL, and the guy who gives a massive platform (and protection) to a lunatic who says “slay the Jews.”

Gage is a man who needs psychiatric help, not elevation and amplification. Following the “slay the Jews”/gun-finger-to-the-head video, authorities paid a visit to Gage, because, by his own admission, he’s not allowed to own firearms (from a June 4th tweet: “I could not obtain a doctors note for PTSD clearance”). So, mentally-unstable dude who can’t get clearance to buy a gun posts a video about slaying Jews, and yeah, the cops came ‘round to talk to him.

Gage’s response on Twitter? He blamed “da cops” for hassling him (another typical Daquan move). And he made it clear that nothing, not even his marriage, will get in the way of him fighting the Jews:

These intimidation tactics are to put pressure and stress on my marriage; to get my wife to talk me out of all my activism; perhaps even leave me when things get really ugly.

But she knows I am willing to drop everyone to continue. She already saw me try to get out, literally changing my name and walking away, but here I am again. IT IS MY NATURE TO FIGHT THEM. And she knows I will let her divorce me if necessary.

YOU CAN TAKE EVERYTHING FROM ME; I WILL NOT STOP.

Elon’s no fucking hero; he’s exploiting a very sick man because he knows the traffic Nazis like Gage bring to the site. And he better hope to God Gage doesn’t shoot up a temple, or that someone who cites his tweets doesn’t. I’ll be the first to testify at the civil case brought by the shooting victims that Elon carved out special terms of service exemptions to keep Gage seen and heard, and that he perma-banned other users for far smaller offenses.

That’s one trial Musk might not be able to ironybro his way out of (he’d likely argue that Section 230 gives him immunity, which would be true irony (bro) because Musk’s rightist fanboys would now find themselves defending the very provision they’ve been fighting to overturn).

This deeply-troubled lunatic needs help. Instead, Elon made him a star.

Ratibor

Okay, I think I’ve had this Ratibor situation figured out wrong from the start.

Ratibor first made himself known on February 10th. I can know the date with certainty because it was on the 11th that I ordered the first (and hardly the last) rat traps.

The hole in the laundry room door through which he entered was nailed shut. Two-by-four, sealed, and Ratibor was trapped behind/under my washer/dryer, with only solid wall behind him.

So that was my understanding. Trapped rat, who’ll eventually get hungry enough to go into one of the traps. And indeed, he did get his foot caught in a glue trap, which he threw at me, and he did try to scale the wall I’d built to keep him cordoned off, leading to me building a four-foot wall that he couldn’t climb.

Once a month I’d put cracker bits outside the traps, as “poof of life” (because he’d never go into a trap, but he would eat Cheez It bits outside the traps).

Sometime in March, I heard him rumbling around inside one of the machines. Couldn’t tell if it was the washer or dryer.

April 4th I put a new round of “proof of life” Cheez It bits outside the traps.

Nothing.

All of April went by.

Nothing. No bite.

May 4th, it had been a month since any proof of life.

He’s gotta be dead, right?

Any rat can go one week without food. Some species can arguably go two. But no rat can go a month without food. Plus, he’s got no water source. That washing machine’s been busted and unused for four years. Any water in it from its last use is long evaporated.

So I say again, he’s gotta be dead, right?

I add a full Cheez It as proof of life food, just to be sure. Another week goes by.

Nothing.

Okay, it’s now been five weeks since any sign of life.

He’s dead. And all of you were like, “I’m sure you’re smelling it by now,” and I’m like “I swear, I smell nothing! I’d fucking notice a rotting carcass smell.”

I begin planning to take down that wall (Mr. Gorbachev), and reclaim my laundry area. But the very next night, I’m typing at my desk, all the lights in the house are on (Ratibor only comes out in the dark), and I hear a MASSIVE din from the laundry area. Massive. I rush to that part of the house, and every single “proof of life” Cheez It bit, plus the full Cheez It, is gone, and I hear furious rumbling from inside one of the machines.

It was a raid. A daring “daylight” raid.

Okay, I gotta be logical about this. He was never “trapped.” He’s obviously found some way in-and-out either through the heat vent in the dryer or, I guess, the drain in the washer. There’s no way he was trapped the previous five straight weeks without eating or drinking. He’s found some way to have inside/outside privileges. It’s the only way he could’ve found water. And that night in mid-May, he made a return visit to scoop up the proof of life food, not even caring that all the lights were on.

Part of me is not upset; if he’s been outside much of the time, it means he hasn’t been pooping nonstop behind the machines. Plus, I’m not going to have to worry about a dead rat carcass (see, this explains why there was no stank).

So now what the fuck do I do? No, no, don’t even think of suggesting it…I’m not paying a bunch of guys to come move the machines to find the entry/exit port. Fuck that. I spend money on nothing but food and bills.

My poor health this year caused me to drop a full waist size so I spent money on a new pair of Amazon Essentials shorts for the summer to fit my new Belsenesque figure. And that’s it; that’s my discretionary funding for the season.

I tell you guys, and I mean it - every cent of every beer you buy me goes to food, bills, and my “unemployable author” rainy-day fund; I spend on nothing frivolous, and I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let a rat manipulate me into wasting dough on tracking down his port of entry.

My solution? Best I can figure is, I’ll erect a permanent wall in front of and around the machines. He may be able to get in and out, but he won’t be able to go anywhere except inside and behind the machines. Eventually he’ll tire of coming in once he sees there’s no more food.

And I’ll just line-dry my fucking clothes all summer. No huge problem. If it was good enough for our pioneer ancestors, it’s good enough for me.

Well, your pioneer ancestors. Mine were in Germany, the Netherlands and Minsk at the time.

There weren’t a lot of Jewish pioneers, but there were a few Muslims.

Haven’t you ever read Little House on the Prayer-rug?

Told you I’m not funny anymore.

BUY ME A BEER!