–Reg Quist  (The Truth of the Matter)

 

“Aye, Chihuahua!”  Oops,  reckon I have to drop that statement from my vocabulary, or so say the woke, pundit ignoramuses.  But come in Pard, sit yurself down and I’ll give yuh a spiel after I pour the coffee.  Hmmm, wonder if I can use the term “java.”  I imagine they’d really get on to me if they knew I referred to their coffee as “cino”.  Here yuh go, the last of my Crockett coffee.  

     There’s a movement out there amongst the wokers that are sayin’ that anyone who voted for Trump should be banned from Mexican, Indian, and Chinese restaurants and should stick to places like Cracker Barrel.  That’s the truth, don’t be gaspin’.  Oh, the coffee’s too hot.  Now, I don’t who these woker folk are, one is a journalist and I didn’t get his name, but one is some kind of “star,” and I might add in my way of thinkin’ not a very bright one, by the name of Jennifer Welch who made this statement according to Fox News.

     She must be a woker, ’cause this ol’ fence post ain’t never heard of her before.  But that statement shows just how much of an ignoramus she is.  What about the people in those ethnic groups who voted for him?   An’ as far as those “stars” who left the country, I would say, Adios! Que se vaya con viento fresco!  Pard, yuh would be proud of me, I looked it up, that means good riddance in Spanish.  Oh, those wokers will be all worked up now.  Fact is, what did they ever do for us?  They sure ‘nough took money and enough for them to move away.  Sure hope their visas are good wherever they went.  Maybe over to Germany where it is a crime to insult somebody in public.  Yep, a simple insult, like this ol’ fence post callin’ them wokers could be a crime.  My mercy, Pard, they even take their cell phones and computers away.  Whooeee, the Gestapo all over again.  Hate crimes, they’re a-callin’ it.  Why to read yur Bible in public could be dangerous then.

     Now, Pard, what I’m seein’ happen here is what should not have to be.  If folks would be law-abidin’, do things the proper way, most of the problems would be solved.  An’ maybe the worst of it all is for those ignoramuses of woke, liberal judges actin’ on an agenda rather than the law.  Pard, that just ain’t right.  See, that there goes to show yuh–yuh start waterin’ down coffee to make cinos, then yuh start makin’ the law what you want it to be rather than what the law is supposed to be.  Yuh see?  

     Well, if’n yuh don’t go ahead an’ don’t check yur cinch.  Fall on yur noggin’ a time or two, and I guarantee that yuh still won’t check it.  Reason bein’ yuh fall for those moronic liberal wokers!  That all bein’ said, I’ll be wishin’ yuh a buena semana.  An’ I don’t care what they are a-sayin’ I still hope that yuh go with God.

     Vaya con Dios.

                    –Robert Peecher  (Through a Land Accurst)

 

Grab yur cup and sit yurself down an’ take a long swaller.  Pard, yur gonna need it after I tell yuh what I’m fixin’ to tell yuh.  Jist when yuh think yu’ve heard it all, well, at least most of what is worth hearin’ something else comes down the pipe to make yuh git the trembles of what this might mean.  Go ahead, take another swaller an’ I can fill yur cup up again before I tells yuh what I’m gonna tell yuh.

     Ready, an’ I got this from Glenn Beck, “Soul-erasing interview with murdered victim proves we’re slipping into post-human dystopia.”  Yep, I see yur eyes a buggin’ out.  I went to the dictionary to make sure I knew what “dystopia” was.  This is what I read, “An imagined state or society in which there is great suffering or injustice, typically one that is totalitarian or post-apocalyptic.”  My mercy… are we speakin’ of the man of lawlessness appearin’ and rulin’?

     Beck asked this question, and I want yuh to ponder it some whilst yur workin’ on that third cup.  “What does it truly mean to be alive if in death you’re more useful?”  Here’s what took place.  Yuh remember that scoundrel of a so-called journalist Jim Acosta?  Well, it seems that he had an interview with a dead man, and now get this, the dead man talked with him.  Yep, the dead man was AI generated.  Makes yuh wonder who programmed the dead man to answer, or if it programmed itself.  Think if it, Pard, interviewing the dead an’ all sorts of nonsense could be made up; yuh talk about manipulation.  Plus the idea of speakin’ with the dead is jist plum evil.  Ol’ King Saul found out about that when he wanted to bring Samuel back.  My mercy, when Samuel appeared it put the heebie-jeebies into Saul along with the witch who sure wasn’t expectin’ Samuel to show up.  Evil, conversin’ with the dead.

     Back to the AI conversation.  The dead man, answered Acosta’s question about gun violence with this, “We need to create safe spaces for conversations and connection, making sure everyone feels seen and heard.  It’s about building a culture of kindness and understanding.”  An unrealistic utopia, one that socialism promises, but fails over and over.  

     And that’s not all Pard, the Mouth of California, yep, ol’ Pelosi herself stated that the priority of the Democratic Party is to, “push to expand transgender surgeries for minors.”  Pard, that’s playin’ with fire, the fire an’ brimstone from heaven.  Plus there’s the push for Denver to hold the Gay Olympics.  Why I never heard of such a thing.  It seems that Denver has a $50 million deficit and is expecting a $200 million one in 2026.  Mercy, what happened to the revenue from all that “pot”?  I thought they were supposed to be part of the mainstream, but they have to have their own month, their own special days, and now their own olympics.  

     Pard, what’s that sound I’m a-hearin’?  Could it be, surely?  Gabriel turnin’ up his trumpet.  Check that spiritual cinch an’ get ready for the ride.  Pard, there’s a great day a-comin’ an’ I reckon it’s a-comin’ soon!  Hmmm, Pard, if an AI came into camp, a dead man, would yuh have to be offerin’ it a cup of coffee?

     Vaya con Dios.

                    –Ernest Haycox  (Trouble Shooter)

  

     Go ‘head an’ take a sip.  It’ll tickle yur tonsils and sooth yur gizzard, an’ mite even make yur liver smile.  It’s the real thing, unadulterated, pure delight and delicious brew.  It might not be strong enough to float a rail, but it’ll sure satisfy.  Nothin’ artificial or fake with my coffee, no siree, strong and black and hot.  There’s too much fake stuff goin’ on out there, so I want to make sure my Pard is getting the real thing.

     I’ve noticed the emphasis goin’ to that AI thing out there.  Whenever I google somethin’ the first thing that pops up is AI.  Pard, I don’t know where all of this is goin’ but I don’t like the feel of it.  Progress, maybe, but progressin’ to where?  The Pit maybe.  Another openin’ for that man of lawlessness to use.  Why sooner or later, whatever AI says is goin’ to be the truth, ‘specially if that’s all there is.

     Artificial intelligence, why I’ve seen that for many years.  Jist take a look see at Congress–plenty of artificial intelligence there, an’ even here in Austin, my mercy, there some kooks runnin’ ’round givin’ the impression of intelligence, but once they open their mouths, why yuh see the fakeness come a-pourin’ out.  Pard, let me tell yuh that there are many in our education system that are full of that there artificial intelligence.  Why history has proven that socialism doesn’t work, yet they keep pourin’ it out there like gravy to be sopped up.  What was it that ol’ seer of the Bible was a-sayin’?  Yep, it was Daniel, and he said that people would be rushin’ hither and thither, gainin’ more an’ more knowledge.  But he stopped there, he didn’t say they would have a lick of common sense, or that they would fear the Lord.  No, they’d be wantin’ to be a-gettin’ all they could for themselves, and I might ask, as whose expense?

     I see that smile, yuh know what I’m a-sayin’.  Coffee reminds yuh of the real life, so strong an’ bold.  Nothin’ artificial ’bout my coffee.  Why first they threw the cinos at us, soon it’ll be fake or AI coffee.  Why, Pard, jist the other day I went down to the grocery to buy a can of pork ‘n’ beans and saw on the can that some of the ingredients was bio-engineered, and Pard if’n yuh don’t know what that means, it means fake.  An’ I hear tell there’s fake meat out there as well.  Bad enough people passin’ tofu out sayin’ it’s meat.  Gates and a lot of other folks want yuh to be jist a-beggin’ for that man of lawlessness to be appearin’.  Well, let me tell yuh, Pard, when he does show up an’ begins to pass out his agenda the folks will see that there won’t be nothin’ artificial ’bout it.  It’ll be a terrible time.  

     An’ Pard, whilst yuh drain the pot dry, let me be tellin’ yuh one more thing.  I’m a-thinkin’ an’ I’m a-seein’ some of that AI in the churches today.  Some of them so-called preachers are spewin’ forth an artificial doctrine.  Whooee, the days are a-comin’ when the earth is goin’ to be full of darkness; the spiritual light will be gone.  Hang on tight ’til then, Pard.  Don’t be takin’ no artificial gospel, nor drinkin’ no artificial coffee.  Grasp holt of the real thing and ride it on through to glory.  Yeehaw, Pard, the Lord’s a-comin’ back so yuh better be makin’ sure that yur spiritual cinch is tight an’ ready!

    Vaya con Dios.

                    –D.C. Adkisson  (Outlaws of Boulder Canyon)

 

Glad yuh made it safe this mornin’, Pard.  There’s crazies out there on the road.  Why, just the other day, I was comin’ down towards Indian Creek on the curvy road and comin’ towards me was one of them lunatic drivers.  Yep, right at me, on the bridge, on my side of the road.  I pulled up on the ol’ steel mount, an’ I don’t know whether she was sleepin’, textin’, or jist bein’ plain obnoxious, but she saw me and got over jist in time.  Yep, Pard, plenty of crazies out there.

     Yuh put the crazies out there, along with the fruitcakes and the cupcakes and yuh have yurself a mess.  Yep, Pard, I’m a-tellin’ it to yuh straight–a mess.  Why Pard, jist the other day I read where the former President of these here United States was urgin’ men to have gay friends.  My mercy… He said that men need them as role models for their kids.  Pard, that’s an abomination an’ other things too; jist plain sick!  Makes me wonder how much longer.  Role models!!  What ever happened to the Lone Ranger?  Guess he rode off and stayed “lone.”

     That’s a good enough reason to not be drinkin’ those cinos.  Give me some strong, hot, black coffee, no matter the weather.  Why, Pard, yuh start waterin’ down yur coffee, addin’ a little of this and a little of that, well, what I’m a-sayin’ is that yuh might start to be waterin’ down yur believin’ as well.  Speakin’ of coffee, how’s that taste this mornin’?  Good, it’s makes the ol’ gizzard want to start singin’ a song.

     There’s enough bein’ said ’bout toxic masculinity.  Why, Pard, I remember when men were men an’ women were glad of it.  Now, accordin’ to the former President of these United States, he’s wantin’ men to uplift men who wear lace.  Listen, Pard, and listen straight–don’t ever forget that every minute of this life we’re in a war.  The devil don’t take no vacations from tryin’ to gather in yur souls to his outfit, or break yuh apart wantin’ to make yuh no use to the Lord’s.  Ride for the brand of the Lord and keep all yur weapons ready, oiled, and loaded.  Yuh never know when yuh might come face to face with one of them spiritual ogres.  But then don’t yuh be forgettin’ them little imps that come at yuh from all directions durin’ the day.  Pard, the fight don’t ever stop, so yuh can’t ever be lettin’ down yur guard.

     “Nough said, this mornin’, ‘sides the coffeepot has done gone dry.  I know yuh want to be on yur way ‘fore I ask yuh to wash the pot.  Jist throw the dregs in the sink, I’ll take care of it, an’ yuh can be sure yur cup will be clean for our next visit.  Yuh be ridin’ tall in the saddle, alert and wary…an’ along with that be sure an’ check yur cinch.

     Vaya con Dios.