California is a miasma excreted from a rock-cleft in the desert and the new Priestesses of Sybil are getting high on the fetid incense to murmur incoherently into the ears of Public Policy makers at Berkeley. It has been this way since the 1960s. Now, after decades of subsidizing gang warfare in the streets, Communist activism in the universities, and the terrorizing of the taxpaying classes by illegal criminals, California is finally cracking down — on puppies.
Internally collapsing from graft and corruption while externally on fire, California lawmakers took Friday to ban the sale of puppy-mill puppies at pet-stores. As usual, California lawmakers, breathing the miasma out of their own asses, are quite certain of their righteousness while accomplishing nothing but another disaster for those they’re claiming to help.
Forcing stores to only sell rescue dogs will not solve the problems of puppy-mills, it will only turn puppy-mill puppies into rescue dogs, exposing them to further diseases, while almost certainly resulting in a general cull (read: extermination) of those puppies who are now in excess of what rescue shelters can handle.
Liberals whine about Washington being “Clown World” under the executive commandeering of Donald J. Trump. Rational people look at California and are so bewildered and horrified that they wish it would go its own way and become the independent socialist republic of Hollywood. Harvey Weinstein is John Wayne Gacy without the make-up and Hollywood was his basement. It’s no different now that he’s fled the country in anticipation of the bodies being discovered.
So, thank you, California lawmakers. When I’m being sued by the illegal immigrant who tried to give me AIDS for refusing to refer to him as xir and xhe, the thought of endless lines of puppies being led to the incinerator will be the cherry on top of absurdist comedy you call governance.
Incidentally, Hollywood just produced a comedy about Stalin.