Life inside the bubble.

Over the years writing this blog, I’ve several times used the expression about certain people living inside a bubble. The people in question would be individuals within the political elite, fake news and the entertainment industry. It’s a phrase that is in common parlance these days because like all good words or phrases, it instantly paints a picture that everyone understands without the extra 150 supporting words of explanation.

It’s there. It refers to people insulated by power, an unwarranted sense of self-important relevance or a result of becoming ludicrously rich entertaining people with wiggling their ass or a bit of a song and dance straight out of the vaudeville tradition of over a century ago. They departed the small mangy village of Realityville on planet Earth many years ago.

Within the bubble are their parasitic hangers on, the modern equivalent of fawning courtiers if you will, and the last thing they’re ever going to do is prick the bubble, even if they know better about real life outside the bubble being totally different to being inside it, because those delusional idiots are their meal ticket, and though they might occasionally advise against the reception outside the bubble an ill-judged statement might provoke, contradicting an ego the size of a planet is a no-no, but it does leave room for a sly “I told you so” in the wreckage afterwards which reinforces the idiots’ reliance on their courtiers.

Upwards of 40,000 dead and counting, but Congress decided to stay in recess into the first week of May. So much for sounding battle stations and all hands on deck. After all, you can’t disturb the high-end shopkeepers in the Hamptons of their annual fleecing of the rich and powerful as they try and wade across a retailer infested river like a bunch of migrating wildebeests running the annual gauntlet of waiting crocodiles out for a snack, just to get their boasting rights on that $6,000 Cartier watch that they’ve just bought which is as thin as an Austrian schilling. And screw the first responders, who’re still out there on the front line working animal hours while all the time taking the casualties.

In the last few months, we’ve had some spectacular examples of bubble dwellers treating us as idiots but also expecting us to swallow what was obviously a load of bullshit they thought was a really spiffing idea, which when they announced it to the parasites hanging off them elicited some vigorous head nodding. I’m sure one or two of the people doing the noddies thought it might be a slightly disastrous idea, but seeing the boss’s enthusiasm for their brilliant idea, went along with it. I’ll do my choice picks, but I’m sure you’ve got your very own favourites.

Possibly the most useless candidate to ever run in her party’s primaries to have a shot at the presidency was Fauxohontas Warren, demonstrably a serial liar and blatant deceiver turning up on this weird campaign advert where she was pretending to be cooking the evening’s dinner. “Darling, can you get me a beer?” Within a second, a hand appeared to her right with a long neck bottle. Aggies and longnecks aside, it was the fastest sprint to a fridge and return with a mildly chilled beer in the history of the world. At least throw in a slight pause Mr. Director.

She duly twisted off the top like a pro, which no doubt she’d been schooled on how to do, but usually people tend to glance down at the top of the bottle rather than staring fixedly into camera. It also helps the credibility if they occasionally stare down on the work platter containing the food you’re preparing for dindins. If you don’t, you could lose a finger. Also, while it’s good to have a big chef’s knife in your hands, it’d be a good idea to have some meat or veg down there that you’re supposed to be working on. The pinney she was wearing that looked store bought brand spanking new, didn’t help.

The next one up is Nancy Pelosi, who’s been on a nearly four year long crusade of spite to take down the Trumpie monster. The fact that their last face to face meeting some years ago lasted less than 3 minutes before he walked out in exasperation with dealing with an utter moron probably didn’t improve the relationship. As part of her crusade, she’s twice blocked or delayed legislation aimed directly at keeping businesses afloat, wages flowing and the economy on life support, if only to get him. All that achieved was to make some instant converts from the working or blue collar class to the other side of the aisle. Thanks to her efforts to extort him, there are now a lot of newbies on the Trump train.

As part of some PR stunt that went into the twilight zone and emerged as a catastastroke of biblical dimensions, some braindead video journalist invited Nancy to show her around her home, or at least one of them. They’re mansion sized homes by the way, none of your two up, two down shanty shacks for a Washington swampie of over 30 years residence in congress. I think the point was to show just how down home and folksy Nancy actually was.

The pertinent bit of the resulting docodisaster was her in the kitchen that contained two big giant fuck off fridge/freezers each reputedly costing $24,000 smackeroos. Beyond ego and boasting rights, how anybody could pay that much for some basic white goods is beyond me. We’re talking someone with more money than brains, someone who’s never scanned the second hand ads in the local freebie rag when the fridge freezer you had stopped working and decided to go home to Jesus and you’d two problems on your hands. First, how to get rid of the old one and second, how to afford its replacement.

The pertinent scene was her pulling out a freezer drawer that contained nothing but cartons of ice cream, all gourmet class I’d say, since I didn’t recognise any of the brand names. None of your proletariat Wall’s ice cream there, Sonny Boy. It reminded me of that old aphorism about walking about in a store where there’s no price label on any of the goods. The subtle message is if you have to ask the price, you can’t afford anything in the damn place.

She waxed lyrical about her love of ice cream. Somewhere north of 45,000 Americans dead, about 25,000,000 freshly registered as unemployed in the last four weeks, shuttered businesses struggling to stay out of chapter 11 bankruptcy, an economy teetering on the brink of disaster and the best you can come up with is a retro effort at if you’ve got it, flaunt it and of course the killer line meant to make everyone’s toes curl in pleasure – “I don’t know what I would have done if ice cream hadn’t been invented.”

I think we’d all be doing a lot better if people like you’d never been invented Nancy. It’s no wonder the wags started calling her Nancy Antoinette after that little outing because of the uncanny resemblance to Marie Antoinette’s famous retort to “the peasants are starving, they’ve got no bread.” “Well, let them eat cake,” though from my scrappy knowledge of French, it wasn’t cake but brioche that she was suggesting. But like in the movie the Man who Shot Liberty Valance, “when the legend becomes fact, print the legend.”

The third one was Sandy who graduated from some lightweight college pretending to be a centre of education who gave her a certificate in something. I think it was in basket weaving or remedial disco dancing, or something that totally prepared her for a life of public service as a re-christened personage called Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, who’s not got two brain cells to rub together and therefore generate some friction heat.

Her strapline is she’s just a bartender who decided to go into politics, but she’s so thick, I simply don’t believe it, or if she ever was, it would have been the two toughest evenings in the idiot’s life before she got fired. It takes smarts and authority to man a bar, neither of which horseteeth’s got. She frequently bitches on about why she’s not more popular, so I suppose her supporting cast of courtiers have decided to stay mute on the reasons why. Another mini-me ego with planetary sized ideas of their importance in the greater scheme of things.

Her great idea was for everybody to refuse to go back to work when this lockdown ends, just to totally screw up the resuscitation of the economy so Trump won’t get re-elected in November. She’s on a congressional salary and non-contributory pension for life which is very juicy, especially as in the midst of a pandemic they’ve just voted themselves a generous wage increase.

Newsflash for you Sandy or whatever you’re calling yourself this week, anyone with the financial resources to take such a highly principled political stand will quickly find that job will be very quickly filled by one of the 25 million newly minted out of work people who actually do need the money, because the federal administration doesn’t have a bottomless coffer to hand out salaries for the rest of their life to people who just want to sit on their ass making a political statement.

The killer thing about all of those PR disasters was their optics advisers obviously telling them they’d really smashed it. It’d go down great with Joe Public, whereas it was totally the opposite effect. They all live in this rich bubble and think everyone outside it is a malleable moron, barely worth a glass or spoonful of the rich champaign and caviar lifestyle, the bubble they live inside.

I think there’s going to be a big wakeup call in November.

©Pointman

Related articles by Pointman:

The arrogance and inhumanity of Nancy Pelosi.

What happens when you stop playing by the rules.

The democrats – one stupid move after another.

Click for a list of other articles.

Comments
9 Responses to “Life inside the bubble.”
  1. monica says:

    As always with you, an eloquent and amusing set of observations.

    Like

  2. Blackswan says:

    Pointman,

    When I saw the title of this piece I assumed it would be about the hermetically sealed isolation bubbles we’ve all been cast into for months, by fraudulent lying “health officials” manipulating data and justifying the global “lockdown” of a supposedly free citizenry and the destruction of entire economies and supply chains.

    Well, after yet another week of reading the rapidly-censored accounts of whistleblower medicos and staff, I’ve had enough.

    As a free people, we are governed with our Consent, and I’ve now withdrawn my consent. I intend to go about my business as, and when, I see fit.

    We each have to draw our own lines in the sand, but as the horror stories around this “virus” mount, it’s not been a difficult choice to make.

    Hospitals only 40% occupied with security guards posted to stop citizen journalists snooping about the empty wards with their phone cameras, idle doctors and nursing staff stood down (when they aren’t spending hours rehearsing their dance routines to thumping music, which would hardly be appreciated by patients in extremis) emergency hospital facilities standing empty, and then dismantled because they’re an embarrassment … and still the lockdown continues.

    An aged-care home where 17 corpses were found stored in a shed, and another where several U-haul trucks parked outside in the street for days eventually had neighbours calling the police due to the stench emanating from them. A hundred rotting corpses found inside the trucks. The excuse was … no local undertaker or funeral home would take victims of the virus. Of course all deaths of the frail aged with a long list of chronic illnesses are listed as Covid19 “victims” and there’s a very good reason why that’s so.

    One example for hospitals explains. An geriatric patient who dies of heart failure gets the hospital $4,000 from Medicaid – a patient who is treated for Covid19 gets $13,000 – but a ventilated patient who dies and is declared a “virus” casualty (without testing or confirmation) attracts the cash bonanza of $39,000. Small wonder that there’s only a 10% survival rate of intubated patients.

    As doctors are “pressured” into attributing the virus responsible on all death certificates, and thousands of earlier deaths are ordered by health officials to be “deemed” virus-related no matter what the cause, the financial and data-skewed motives become more obvious by the day.

    After all, if Global Idiots swallowed the phoney Trillion-dollar Manmade Global Warming Fraud, they’ll fall for anything … especially if they’re spooked about their loved ones being at imminent risk, rather than their descendants in a 100 (or even 12) years from now.

    Someone will always build a better mousetrap.

    Yep, Computer Models that are fed erroneous data can be manipulated into any result that money-hungry jackals and power-crazed psychopaths demand.

    Enough! As a sentient adult (albeit categorised as a “high risk” candidate for the virus), I’m perfectly capable of making my own risk-assessment of inter-acting with my community, and it’s my intention to proceed accordingly. I will NOT be confined to house-arrest (under threat of fine or imprisonment) or be told how to conduct myself by a bureaucratic bought-off Fruit in a Suit.

    As for the “mandatory vaccine” coming to a healthcare clinic near you … that’s another fight for another day.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Edie says:

    I suspect you’d make a cute date Pointy.

    Like

  4. Another Ian says:

    Lockdown predictions vs dicktheria

    “Professor Lockdown Resigns After Breaking Own Lockdown Rules to Meet Lover: Report”

    https://www.breitbart.com/europe/2020/05/05/professor-lockdown-quits-after-breaking-own-rules-to-meet-lover/

    Liked by 1 person

  5. spetzer86 says:

    I’ve often thought the only appropriate response to for overspending nations is to hold the representatives personally responsible for their decisions. If eliminating their personal fortunes doesn’t do it, we just continue on. When we’ve finished selling all the body parts, I suppose we’ll need to evaluate different options.

    Like

  6. babygrandparents says:

    OMG – it makes me sigh when I read something like this and wish I had written it. I look at the self appointed apostles – Ellen DeGenereres comes to mind – and think that they have NO clue what the real world is like. Thanks for writing this. We have the same bubble in Canada with Trudeau and the Laurentian Elites and the medical experts who say they “understand” the suffering. Really?

    Like

  7. Power Grab says:

    IIRC, Sandy was the winner of a casting call.

    Like

  8. Power Grab says:

    Oh, and Saint What’s-Her-Name also is descended from actors. She and a relative have their own pages on IMDB.

    It galls me to use their actual names because, in a twisted way, it can be interpreted as my giving them publicity.

    Like

  9. Fen says:

    “She duly twisted off the top like a pro”

    There was a 2nd one where she said “I’ma gonna have me a… beer” in her best Deplorable accent. Apparently we rubes no speakie good…

    She twisted off the top too much like a pro, causing us Deplorable Morons to scrutinize the video more closely until it was agreed that her bottle had already been opened, presumably by some local rube who knew to operate such a pedestrian contraption.

    I suspect that her bottle was also pre-opened in the vid you are discussing.

    Like

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