Are Donald Trump’s Facebook Followers All Fake


I should remember to do a Google search for my own damn topic.  Read a Business Insider article from 2015.


So we apparently now live in a world where official communication from the White House is now done via a Tweet to a Facebook post. My do we live in interesting times. I stupidly followed the link simply to see what line of BS was being slung at us and actually found something rather interesting. Take a look at the first comment on both this post

and this one.

Now maybe Mr. Bolton and Mr. Decaj are equally passionate about their views on Mr. Trump they share a psychic link, or more likely, they don’t exist.
I’m not an investigative journalist, but I decided to do a quick Google search on Mr. Leo Decaj figuring his name was far less common that Jim Bolton. The only links that come up are six random images and links to comment threads on right wing conspiracy sites. Prior to October of 2016 though it is just the feed of an Albanian 20 something with a fascination for Eminem. Now why an Albanian 20 something would suddenly switch over to English and take an fascination in US politics is beyond me, but I have a theory, Leo doesn’t care about Donald Trump. Instead someone offered him up some cash for his Facebook profile and it became part of the zombie hoards “supporting” our new President.
This is why Donald wants to bypass the “traditional media”, he can control the messaging and has an army of commenters bought and paid for that give the appearance of actual support.

Meet the world’s best Trump Troll

Former El Presidente of Mexico Vincente “Mother-Fucking” Fox.

The Most Dangerous Man In America

Can now destroy us in 140 characters or less. He’s not even president for another four or five weeks and already is escalating nuclear tensions that the previous six presidents spent their time in office defusing.

I am calling on Twitter to disable Donald Trump’s twitter account because it can now be viewed as a weapon of mass destruction.

All Heil The Great Orange One

Well there it is. It is official. The Great Orange One is going to be given the keys to the kingdom.

So the other day I listened to Obama’s press conference where he promised that there’d be swift retaliation against the Russians for the apparent hacking of our election.

It got me thinking that in order to keep tensions from escalating he’d employ the B or the C team to do the hacking and give him the results in his daily security briefing.

So I present to you America’s Least Capable Spy Agency.

America Did Not Just Endorse Trump

“Oh God, oh God, we’re all going to die?” — Hoban ‘Wash’ Washburn

The results are in, and while I personally am disappointed, I am trying to take a pragmatic view of things.

“Let’s do the numbers” — Kai Ryssdal

I’m going to start here. Fact: America does not love Trump or his views. How do I know this? He got 1,215,065 fewer votes than Mitt Romney. If this country was massively and enthusiastically endorsing Trump you would expect to have seen him out perform Mitt. Instead even members of his own party weren’t buying what he was selling, just like his steaks.

After the loss in 2012 the Republican Party commissioned the autopsy report to try and figure out what went wrong. With their 2016 candidate receiving 1.2 million fewer votes than last time either the report was wrong, or they didn’t read it. My advice to the Democrats, write your own report and read it.

Here’s the next number: 5,853,014

This is the number of people who who voted for Barack Obama who did not vote for Hillary Clinton. This election was not an endorsement of Trump, but a repudiation of Hillary. She and her campaign were well aware of this lack of enthusiasm but guilty of taking 5.8 million voters for granted. There will be countless political science doctoral thesis written about this number for years to come.

But the long and short of it, people don’t like her. Whether it’s deserved or not I’m not going to speculate at this time. It just goes to show that she and the DNC are just as out of touch with this country as the RNC.

This brings me to the next number: 46%

This is the rough approximation of the population who chose to abstain from the choices they were given.

When given the choice between slaughtering a million puppies or drowning a million kittens, the abstainers are the ones in the back of the room saying “Why the fuck do we need to kill anything?”

Read more here.

So, why do I support a liberal progressive agenda and the downfall of society as we know it?

Because I firmly believe that this country is built on generations of shared sacrifice. The generations before us built great institutions and solved massive problems and it is our duty to maintain and preserve their work and continue to build new institutions and solve new problems.

Typhoid, cholera, dysentery are words that are absent from modern America because our great-grandparents generation decided that they were tired of seeing people die and built sewer systems and clean water projects. Flint Michigan is the prime example of what happens when we forget this sacrifice.

The United States by most measures has the largest and strongest economy on the planet. The reason is that our grandparents generation felt that it was important to build the largest damn interstate highway system ever to lower as many barriers to free commerce as possible. The potholes you avoid are the example of what happens when we forget this sacrifice.

It is our duty to maintain and enhance these institutions as they are gifts to us. We then have a responsibility to our children to pick a new problem to solve and give the solution to the next generation. To me universal health care is that cause to fight for. When people have access to health care they are more productive and by extension the economy improves and businesses prosper.

“…government of the people, by the people, for the people…” — Abraham Lincoln

There is a tendency to speak about “the government” as an abstraction, this nebulous boogieman in the background that is the root of all evil. I hate to disappoint you, but we are the government.

The government that sent men to the moon, defeated fascism, and eliminated smallpox.

The same government that irradiated its population, listens to your phone calls, and infects people with diseases. Which is why we cannot sit on the sidelines and not participate.

We (the government) must be held accountable and laser focused on what our shared goals are. Focusing on issues such as whom we share a bed with are simply distractions that allow those in positions of power to ignore the shared goals and focus on their personal goals.

For those of you disappointed in the election remember this, in the last 24 years the platform and policies proposed by the conservatives have won the popular vote once. This means there are more of you who share an alternative view of where our shared priorities need to be.

For those of you excited about the election results, remember this, you now have all the marbles. You are being handed an unemployment rate below 5%, low inflation, rising wages, and (by some miracle) all three branches of government. Once the euphoria of the victory wears of, you have a job to do and for at least a little while, there is nobody else left to blame.

Numbers and statistics from here.

I’ve got big plans for 2016

2016 has just started and I’ve already got quite a to do list:
– Watch and review every James Bond film
– Finish writing a app idea
– Re-implement the 2015 Austerity budget so that we can buy a new house in 2017
– Read 10 books

I will check back in from time to time to see how things are going.

007: From Russia With Love

Bond Life Lesson: When two gypsy chicks are having a throwdown over some other guy, politely ask them to stop, odds are in your favor for a threesom.

From Russia where apparently a Mexican can play a Turk, an Italian can play a Russian, and holy shit is that Quint from Jaws? The second 007 outing benefitted greatly from the success of the previous film and the obviously increased budget that afforded. The plot is far more contrived and the explosion count is easily doubled that of Dr. No.

The film opens with Quint Grant killing Bond in a hedge maze. Syke it was just a dude in a rubber mask. Actually we just want you to watch these go-go dancers for the next three minutes.

Zoom in on a chess game where SPECTRE #5 is about to lay a Boris Spassky level smackdown on his unwitting opponent. For the uninitiated SPECTRE is an organization of ex British and Soviet spies led by the feline obsessed #1. Their main goal in life is to serve as a plot device to make sure James Bond gets laid and occasionally blow some shit up.

SPECTER HR would like to welcome our new #3 who has just completed her orientation. She comes to us by way of the Soviet secret services, likes snearing, inspecting Grants abs, coercing her former comrades in to committing treason, and might just be a lesbian. Please give her a warm welcome if you see her in the hallways.

Back at MI-6 HQ M and Bond are having the following conversation:
M: Bond a Russian operative in Istanbul wants to give us a secret decoding machine.
Bond: Do I have to? I just got back from Jamaica and told my girlfriend the most convincing story about why I had to spend six months there.
M: She’s an Italian super model.
Bond: When do I leave?

Upon arriving in Istanbul, Bond meets up with Kerim Bey played by legendary Mexican actor Pedro Armendáriz. I’m assuming the call sheet simply said tan actor required, must bring his own accent. Normally when a super suave secret agent arrives in Istanbul he can assume he will be taken to the famous Turkish baths. Not our man Kerim, he takes Bond on a scenic tour of the sewers because they’ve installed the periscope from a future Connery vehicle in the Russian embassy in the hopes of catching a few up skirt shots.

As an apology for the pending dry cleaning bill Kerim takes Bond to a gypsy camp where the first course is lamb, followed by some girl on girl wrestling with grappa, and then some good old Turkish blood feud. Afterwards Bond is angry that his suit now needs both dry cleaning and a tailor. Not to worry though, one of the wrestlers is a seamstress and takes banging as trade, as long as her former enemy gets to join in as well.

After a brief stop to assassinate some guy Bond is finally able to check in to his hotel room where house keeping has conviently left a Russian dubbed Italian super model on his pillow. The take away here is that pussy acquisition in Turkey is far easier than Jamaica.

To finally kick the plot in to high gear Bond shockingly lies to his new friend with benefits, blows up the Russian embassy, steals the decoding machine, jumps aboard the Orient Express (yes that Orient Express), films a PSA about domestic violence, kicks Grant’s ass, and steals a dude’s truck. Future generations will have a hard time coming to grips with the level of grand theft auto present in early ’60’s cinema.

Since stealing a truck isn’t enough for this movie Bond is on the lookout for a boat he can aquire and thankfully finds one. Using Scotland as a stand in for the Greek Islands this movie wouldn’t be complete without cleaning up an oil spill using a flare gun. With the minimum explosion requirement having been met all that is left is for #3 to make a brief cameo in Venice to remind us all that she was in this film and for Bond to get a hand job on a gondola while the credits roll.

007: Dr. No

Bond Life Lesson: Always bring a deck of cards.

As a James Bond film, Dr. No is barely recognizable when compared to modern entries in the series. While oozing mid century modern set decorations there is a relatively low explosion count and the overall plot just isn’t contrived enough, oh wait bikini. Instead this film shows us that the most useful skill our clandestine services require is knowledge of at least two different forms of solitaire.

The story starts off with the British office in Jamaica’s radio transmission suddenly going off the air during a regularly scheduled check-in. MI-6 chief M chooses to send one of his newer double-oh agents #7, aka James Bond, to investigate. M views this as a shit assignment as well as James, but what M is truly counting on is taking advantage of the 12 week radio electronics course Bond just completed at the learning annex (I’m assuming this last bit is in a deleted scene).

Once in Jamaica Bond is greeted by the most inept kidnapper on the island who allows our hero of to make the following phone call:

Bond: Hello, Bond here did you send a car to pick me up?
The Office: Bloody hell no, why would we do that?
Bond: Just checking, the cabbies here must have ESP.

And then proceeds to hop in the car anyway to see where things go. Well for our kidnapper things don’t end well and Bond eventually makes it to the office and soon learns this is no ordinary repair call. The police have been collecting quite a few dead mid level British office staff and the local chief of police is beginning to worry what this is going to do to the tourism trade. So Bond decides to grab a smoke and a drink and investigate.

During Bond’s booze tour of the island he makes friends with the local CIA agent during a Red-Stripe product placement and learns that everyone in the area is perfectly normal except out on Crab Key where nobody wants to go because strange shit happens out there. This is suspicious enough for Bond to formulate a plan, but first decides he needs a booty call and follows some of the most complex directions to any girl’s house. Seriously folks, if it takes more than three major turns, I assure you there is closer pussy.

Sensing a trap Bond sleeps with the girl, has her abducted, and then sits down to play cards in the dark while he waits for some shit to go down. Once said shit goes down it is time to hook back up with the CIA and get this plot moving because we are over an hour in to a film titled Dr. No and have yet to meet anyone with a graduate degree, let alone a nurse practitioner.

Out on Crab Key Bond meets a walking bikini and infiltrates the local Holiday Inn. Here we have our first true teachable moment: don’t drink the in room coffee, they never give you enough creamer and it might be drugged. A few hours later at the manager’s hospitality mixer we finally get a chance to meet the infamous Dr. No, who is rather unremarkable except for the fact he’s got kickass robotic hands. But there are NASA rockets to shoot down so throwing the secret agent in the dungeon alone makes the most sense.

Spoiler: Bond escaped the dungeon. I personally didn’t see that happening, I think I was grabbing a fresh beer at the moment.

In the control room wearing the most convincing disguise ever 007 foils the plans by literally turning it up to eleven and then tripping the bad guy. In the pandemonium that follows he remembers to grab the walking bikini so that he doesn’t have to masturbate alone on a boat as the credits roll.