Little Pink Coffins

 

It has been a wild news week with former maybe next President Trump being indicted for the 4,000th time. 

But enough with the political slop; it is time to review the news the lame mainstream media chose to ignore because it didn't follow their diabolical plan to make everybody liberal Democrats.

First up:  what is the one product Americans are dying for?

Pink coffins.

What better way to spend eternity than in little pink coffins made for you and me?

Pink coffins have become popular due to the movie "Barbie," which is based on a toy because Hollywood has run out of comic books to make movies about.

Before you ask: I haven't seen "Barbie" because I am an over sixty male and have no interest in it.  

I'm sure "Barbie" has a lot of important things to say, like how men suck, but that's just speculation on my part.  Hollywood is really big on the topic of Men Sucking, and we need strong, empowered women to save the day.

Or it doesn't. I don't know, and I don't care. It might be a fun, comic movie. It may be the most important movie ever made.  

Comedian Marc Maron, who is important because he has a podcast, said, "I saw Barbie and I thought it was a <bad word> masterpiece, and like, I don’t throw that word around lightly." I've listened to his podcast, so I know he wasn't tossing the bad word around lightly. 

He goes on to say, “It does a fairly amazing thing to create a sort of broad-based entertainment product that applies to the entire spectrum, I think, primarily of women, and then just seep it in progressive politics and basic feminism in a way that’s funny, informative, and well-executed in a context that is completely engaging, is <bad word>monumental.” 

I know if there is one thing our broad-based entertainment products need: movies based on toys that apply  the entire spectrum of progressive politics and basic feminism. It also helps if it is funny.

That was the entire problem with "Transformer" movies. They didn't apply the entire spectrum of progressive politics. Do better, Hollywood.

A few weeks ago on X, the site formerly known as Twitter, there was a massive controversy that Margot Robbie (who plays Barbie) was not all that good-looking despite being a young shapely blonde, which I always thought was the scientific definition of good-looking.

But what do I know?  I went to Cobb County Public Schools.

Anyway you know how those coffin makers are. They like to jump on any fad, even when there is a national pink paint shortage, which never happened during the Reagan administration.

The New York Post reports, "Funeral homes are offering hot pink Barbie-themed coffins for fans who hope to take their love for the Mattel doll to the grave."

The coffin maker said, "This coffin, with its striking bright pink color, represents the spark and energy of those unforgettable moments they lived. It is a reminder that our stories deserve to be remembered and celebrated with color and vibrancy. May this tribute be a celebration full of love, colors and unforgettable memories.”

The hot pink coffin also reminds us that our dearly departed was a loon.

But that's not the worst part. The worst part is The United States is behind other countries when it comes to hot pink coffins.  Funeral Homes in El Salvador were selling hot pink coffins last year. Where was Joe Biden?

 On top of that, the United States is way behind in manufacturing Flamethrowing Tubas.

A Dutch Youtuber named "Master Milo" has built and tested a Flamethrowing Tuba that uses a chainsaw motor and propane fuel. You can watch it here. https://www.borninspace.com/testing-a-flamethrowing-tuba-fire-in-your-hole/

Where was the United States when all of this was going on?

I'll tell you: going to the "Barbie" movie.

 

 

No Labels, No Problem

 

 It is all over but the shouting.

Everybody and by that I mean everyone in the mainstream media seems to think the 2024 Presidential election is over. 

It will be Joe Biden (if someone wakes him up) against Donald Trump (if he's not in jail or maybe if he is in jail, Trump's taking a wait-and-see approach.)

Jeffrey Goldberg of "The Atlantic" said, "It's fair to say that there's a very, very good chance that the presumptive Republican nominee for president of the United States in May or June of next year will be a convicted felon. That's an astonishing fact." 

Mr. Goldberg goes on to say, "I was just talking to somebody, a senior official in a government department, and I asked this person an honest question. I didn't know the answer to it. I said, can you be president from jail? I didn't know the answer to that. And this person, instead of giving me the answer, because I think they didn't know the answer, said, it's amazing that we're at this place, that we're asking this question of each other. Can you run the country from prison? This is a live question."

I lived through the Trump years, and I can safely say I'm not sure he actually "ran" the country.  My problem with Trump is that he always sounded like he was ready to take away "causal Fridays" if our KPIs didn't improve.

Do you know who else wants Donald Trump to be the Republican nominee?  Joe Biden. 

The Washington Post reports "President Biden's campaign has no headquarters yet, less than 10 staffers and is spending hardly any money. But his aides say that's all part of the plan."

Oh yes, another one of President Biden's plans. Actually, his "plan" is to let 35 percent of the Republican party nominate someone who continually loses because he acts like a baboon.

I can speak for most Americans. The mere thought of a Biden-Trump campaign gives me a migraine headache.  It would be a perpetual fingernails on the blackboard moment for the country.

The indispensable Jim Geraghty said it best:  "An astounding 65 percent of voters don’t want Biden to run for another term, and 60 percent of voters don’t want Trump to run again. Among independents, 73 percent don’t want Biden to run again, and 70 percent don’t want Trump to run again. There are many Americans who dread a rematch between two habitually dishonest, narcissistic, shouting old men and who desperately hunger for some other serious option".

The third option could be the Libertarians, which is not a party but a bunch of people who want to smoke dope and keep their taxes low.  It may surprise you that a party dedicated to individual liberty can't get it together long enough to get somebody elected dog catcher anywhere.

It looks like a group known as "No Labels" might, maybe, could possibly run a third-party candidate. 

"No Labels" believes "This moment demands American leaders and citizens alike declare their freedom from the anger and divisiveness that are ruining our politics and most importantly, our country.  We must recommit to the fundamental beliefs that have historically united Americans and provided a common understanding of who we are and where we hope to go."  Okay

I think we have a united American fundamental belief that Biden is just a couple of days away from wandering around DC in his pajamas and Trump is a total nutjob.

The No Labels website talks about bipartisan approaches and people working together. They also talk about the importance of the Bill Of Rights, a balanced budget, and politics stops at the water's edge.   Good luck, guys.

West Virginia's Joe Manchin is the man most often mentioned as a No Labels candidate. He's not a total liberal whack job and acts like you could carry on a conversation with him even if you misgender somebody.

I don't know.  Third parties sound good but tend to peter out at the end.  There was a time when it looked like Ross Perot could possibly win, but it ended up that he just made it possible for Sexy In His Own Mind Bill Clinton to win The White House.

That worries Biden because they fear Manchin will siphon votes away and put Trump back in The White House.  

Trump must add this to his worries besides his four million court cases,too.  Biden got a lot of votes because people couldn't take Trump. Trump got a lot of votes because people couldn't take Biden.  And a lot of those 2020 Trump voters could vote for Manchin.

 It becomes a moot point if DeSantis wins the nomination, triggering the Democrats to nominate someone much younger than Biden.

But that doesn't look like that will happen. Some people are bound and determined to make you like Trump and/or Biden and don't care what you think.

 

 

 

The Jerk, Too

Early editions of this post just had the title "The Jerk".  Well, it turns out I had another post called "The Jerk" back in 2017, so I made this one a sequel.  Lewis Grizzard never had this problem.

 

I hate to say I told you so, but I told you so.

For the past 15 years, you have heard all of this talk about what a nice guy Joe Biden is-just like your favorite uncle.

And in the 2020 campaign, you heard about how normal Joe Biden was. He likes ice cream! He doesn't like porn stars.  He doesn't seem like a Grade-A narcissist like you know who.

After he was elected, people on TV said he wouldn't be as petty as The Big Bad Orange One.

I was skeptical, to say the least.

I have been watching Joe Biden from the corner of my eye for years. I was in the eighth grade when he was first elected Senator.

I didn't believe for one minute that Biden was this Non-Partisan Guy.  I saw what he did to Robert Bork. I saw what he did to Clarence Thomas.  I saw how he told a crowd that Republicans wanted to put African-Americans in chains.

Well, guess what?  Biden has not been your cool uncle who has brought America together after the egoism of Donald Trump.  Rather, he has doubled down on some of the nastiness.

The biggest threat to America is not China, Russia, or Islamic extremists.  The biggest danger is Americans, at least the MAGA kind.

Additionally, a report in Axios calls President Biden "Old Yeller" and it portrays him as a grouchy old man given to profanity laced tirades with all of the F-bombs you might want. You can read the Axios article here: https://www.axios.com/2023/07/10/biden-temper-us-president

That runs counter to the image Biden has given to the public: the kindly ice cream eatin' grandpappy wearing aviator sunglasses with a penchant for tall tales and smelling hair.

In other Biden news, it seems Hunter was given a slap on the wrist for all of his shenanigans although calling it a slap on the wrist is an insult to slaps on the wrist.  It wasn't quite "Teddy gets away with Chappaquiddick" but it is hard to image the same deal being given to a person with the last name of "Trump".

Last week, a small bag of cocaine was found at the White House. We've had several explanations of how a small bag of white powder can show up at the White House but the official version is "We Don't Know", which is the go-to Biden explanation of everything.

But to me, the most damaging hit on Biden was an Op-Ed piece written by Maureen Dowd of The New York Times.  

Ms Dowd is not MAGA. Whatever MAGA is, Maureen Dowd is far from it. However, she wrote this piece: "It's Seven Grandchildren, Mr. President" https://www.nytimes.com/2023/07/08/opinion/hunter-biden-child.html

The President has seven grandchildren, but only acknowledges six because number seven is the result of a roll in the hay between Hunter and a stripper.  Apparently, it is all the child's fault.

When you are a Democrat and you lose Maureen Dowd, you have trouble.

It is time for all of us to admit one thing. The President is a Jerk.  Charles C.W. Cooke of The National Review called Biden a word that rhymes with "Gas Pole".

Yes, Trump is a jerk, too and that word that rhymes with "Mass Soul".  The only thing positive you can say about Trump is that his jerkiness is part of his brand and he leans, heavily, into it. But, honestly, you just wish he would act like he had some sense like my dad used to say.

Other Presidents have been jerks.  Johnson and his bathroom conferences with his staffers. Kennedy and his trollops. Clinton and his bimbos.  When you tell the world that only you can solve its problems, you will probably have some jerkiness in you.

But there is something about the pious posturing around Biden that makes it all the more distasteful and helps to explain why people do not want him to run for re-election even if the other guy is the other jerk.

 

 

Boomers Are Staying Alive

I was born in 1959.

This was before color television, car seat belts, and diet sodas.  Back then, everybody, including doctors, smoked. Doctors smoked during surgery.

Doctor:  "Scalpel"
Nurse: "Scalpel"
Doctor: "Pall Mall, Lucky Strikes if you got it."

Back then, marijuana was considered so dangerous only jazz musicians could smoke it. Now you can eat it in a gummy.

In 1959, major league baseball was not in Atlanta, Tampa, Miami, Houston, Arlington, Seattle, or Phoenix.  There was no Super Bowl, either.

I've started thinking about my status as a Baby Boomer. I'm one of the younger ones.  But now some people say we should "get out of the way" and let the more youthful people take control.

After all, boomers have been in the spotlight for some time now. 

Boomers came into our own in the mid-60s when we started growing our hair out to make room for our brains.

We played our music loud. Songs were sung by people who could not actually sing (looking at you, Mr. Dylan).

But our songs were profound, man. Like "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida," which said, and I quote, "In a gadda da vida, honey don't you know that I'm lovin' you" The songs were so deep we didn't even know what they meant.

However, somewhere in the '70s, music began to change. A new form of popular music came out called "Disco."

Disco songs centered around several basic topics. One was "boogie."  It was vital to get up and boogie. It was also essential to get down and boogie.  What "boogie" meant, I don't know. I guess you'll know it when you see it.

Another topic was dancing.  Dancing was very important in the Disco era because it was integral to getting up/getting down to boogie.

I must admit that I was one of the people in the "Disco Sucks" crowd.  It had nothing to do with the fact that I am very un-coordinated, and when I dance, I look like I am having a seizure.

It was just all of the songs sounded the same. I liked a couple of them.  That one that says, "I like the nightlife, I like to boogie," was one that I liked, but for the most part, disco left me cold.

The other day, my wife and I went to a concert by a Bee Gees cover band, The Florida Bee Gees. Let me say that they kicked The Tennessee Bee Gees butt.

When The Florida Bee Gees came out on stage, they told us we should be dancing.  That was really bad advice for most of the audience.  Most of the crowd should not be dancing, at least without written permission from their physician.

They had three guys up front, like the real Bee Gees.  One guy could sing in that falsetto that Barry Gibb sang with.  I got to give that guy credit-there's no way I could sing that high EVER.

They did all of the Bee Gees songs. Some pre-disco, but mostly the disco era Bee Gee songs. They did one song I wasn't familiar with: "I Started A Joke."  You are not telling the truth if you say you remember this song.

They ended the concert, of course, with "Stayin' Alive" from "Saturday Night Fever."  I didn't see "Saturday Night Fever" when it came out because I associated John Travolta with his character on "Welcome Back, Kotter," Vinnie Barbarino.

Plus, you know, it had disco music in it.  Yuck.

"Stayin' Alive"  is a great song.  One line has always confused me.

"We can try to understand
The New York Times' effect on man." 

I am still trying to understand what that means.  But The Bee Gees have a point. Everything has to be run by The New Times to make sure it is what the country needs to be thinking about. 

In the seventies, The New York Times told us we must be concerned with The Shah of Iran, the energy crisis, inflation, and a million other things. The New York Times still says we should be worried about those things, except for The Shah. (If you want, substitute the word "Trump" for The Shah.)

In any event, I was glad I went to the Florida Bee Gees concert and shook what was left of my groove thing.

It showed me that even the music I wasn't fond of is better than what's out now.

If you'll forgive me, I must go now. I have some kids to tell to get off my lawn.

"Happy Shiny People": A Review

 

 Yes, I have the Red Notebook around here, somewhere.

In high school, I went twice to The Institute Of Basic Youth Conflicts. I went to The Institute at The Omni, a recently built arena in Atlanta, to show you how long ago it was. Gerald Ford was President during one of my Institutes, and Jimmy Carter was the President during my other.

The Institute of Basic Youth Conflicts was a man named Bill Gothard.  He came out and stood behind a podium. Next to him was an overhead projector where he drew Basic Youth Conflicts and how to overcome them.

Since I was a basic youth, I was his target audience.

The Omni was packed both years I went. Gothard gave the same lecture in a plain Midwestern accent.  He was not flashy or charismatic at all unless you consider wet socks charismatic.

He taught "Basic Life Principles," which were: Design, Authority, Responsibility, Suffering, Ownership, Freedom, and Success.

A lot of time has passed since I went to The Institute, but I remember the teaching on authority, in which he drew an umbrella showing how God gives an umbrella of authority to protect kids from Satan.  It goes from Christ to Husbands to Wives.

I also remember he mentioned how your birth order in the family could determine how you act.  It always made sense to me that an only child behaves one way while the youngest of four acts another.

Besides that, I only remember a little from my nights at the Omni.  I remember feeling good about going, although I'm not sure why.  I remember thinking some of it was good, and some of it was legalistic. (Note: this is Evangelical talk for "too strict" and not in a good way.)

 On Amazon Prime, there is a documentary streaming called "Happy Shiny People" about the Duggars, a family with 19 children.

The documentary is good, sort of.

The documentary shows that Jim Bob Duggar and his wife popped out 19 kids, all with a first name beginning with "J."  The whole dang family ended up on a reality TV show.

Ma and Pa Duggar were big Bill Gothard fans, and their reason for having so many children was Psalm 127:  "Blessed is the man whose quiver is full." The documentary says that Gothard taught Christians to have as many kids as they could physically have.
 

As Larry Wachs said, when Jim Bob took off his pants, he was all business.

The documentary discusses the oldest Duggar child, Josh Duggar, who is currently in prison for Child pornography.  He also admitted to assaulting his sisters. He's really a piece of work, but you're bound to have some bad apples when you have 19 kids.

There are as many problems with "Shiny Happy People" as with Gothard's theology.

"Shiny Happy People"  paints with a BROAD brush that everyone went to a Bill Gothard seminar came out a Baby Making zombie.  My wife and I have gone to the seminar, and we had ONE child because I was convicted that if we had two children, we would have to live in a van down by the river.

 
The documentary makers lump all fundamentalists and evangelicals in one bag, going so far as to call Wheaton College "the Harvard of fundamentalists," which I'm sure is news to their professors and students.

Besides not knowing the difference between an Evangelical and a Fundamentalists, the film makers don't know the difference between a denomination and a para-church organization. By the time the Duggars met Bill Gothard, Basic Youth Conflicts had morphed into the Institute Of Basic Life Principles (IBLP). They seem to say that IBLP was a "cult" mainly because most people who were into it were nuttier than a fruitcake. Case in point: they are conservative Republicans. Horrors. 

The IBLP was big into "homeschooling, " meaning someone (usually mom) stays home and teaches the kids.  Like most educational matters, homeschooling is only as good as the instructor.  I know homeschooled kids who grew up to be fantastic adults with multiple college degrees, and I've known some who are unsuccessful.  Just like the kids I've known who have gone to public school.

The documentary features an "expert" (a journalist who had an article published) who claims the homeschooling movement is a bunch of prejudiced white people (the journalist was white) who don't want their precious children going to school with a bunch of minorities.

That may be true.  Maybe they just want to provide the best education possible for their children because sometimes the public school system leaves a lot to be desired.

The IBLP got into Republican politics, so you know that's a bad thing.  The politician that gets the worst of it is Mike Huckabee, who is shown chewing out a potential voter over Josh Duggar.

The documentary shows how these conservative Christian Republicans try to "infiltrate" the political world by working for congressmen, PACs, etc. Another way of saying it is: participating in American democracy.

The saddest part of the documentary is the various former IBLP young people and how participating in IBLP ruined their lives. Particularly the girls because Bill Gothard has been credibly accused of being a predator and sexually harassing young women.

All of these kids are "deconstructing" their faith. That's a fancy term for not going to church anymore, wearing cotton candy-colored hair, nose rings, tats, and dropping F-bombs.

These guys all had an ax to grind, and since Gothard (or the kids' parents) refused to participate in the documentary, you have no idea how accurate the stories were.

 So we're left with a documentary that gives a cursory glance at an Evangelical phenomenon, along with a look at a goofy couple from Arkansas and the apparent power of reality TV.

The best thing to do is never turn off your brain at church or when you are watching Amazon Prime.

 

 

A High School Epiphany

 

 "Seek, and ye shall find" ~ Matthew 7:7

 

I might as well admit that I am entering the stage of life called "Old."  You may have heard about it.

When you get to this age, you start reviewing your life and think back to when you were "young,"  and the future was so bright you had to wear shades as long as your parents let you borrow the car.

Some things you think about usually involve you doing something stupid, which didn't include doing homework. However, there were events that happened that you still believe wasn't your fault. 

All of this made me think of an incident in my life that wasn't my fault (honest!) and I have sought to understand why this event happened.

As you know, I went to Wheeler High School ("Where The Grandparents Of Tomorrow Are Attending The High School  of Today") and was a student in the "Advanced Grammar" class taught by the old Grammar Hammer himself, Roger Hines.

As a bit of background: Mr. Hines was considered one of the premier teachers at Wheeler, and (generally) only the best and the brightest took his courses.  How I got into this class is a mystery of life since I was nowhere near the brightest and I certainly could have been better.

One day, Mr. Hines was going on and on about how gerunds were our friends or something when something happened.

The bell rang.

We, the students, got up and left the class filled with the knowledge that gerunds were verbs acting as nouns, and with this knowledge, we could change the world or even go out on a date.

The next day in class, Mr. Hines was clearly upset.  

Now, Mr. Hines ran a pretty tight ship, but he wasn't one of those yelling teachers, which were common back then.  

He calmly but very firmly told us,  "I don't know who told you that you were dismissed from class when the bell rang.  The bell does not dismiss you.  I dismiss you. I am very disappointed in you."

I remember thinking:  Cobb County Public Schools told us. The school bell was used to start class and to end class.  I thought it was a pretty good system.

Plus, Wheeler was an oddly shaped school with added buildings like patchwork.  There were basically two ways to get from where Mr. Hines's class in what was called "The Old Building" to "The New Building," where my next-period class was held. 

One was through a small hall that connected the Old and New Buildings. This was where the mass of Wheeler humanity would cram into trying to get to their class before the bell rang. Or you could run through the Smokehole (in the 70s, they let you smoke at school as long as it was outside and on concrete.)

Both could take a while, and you could be late.  If the bell rang for the start of the next class, the next-period teacher wouldn't care that their colleague would not dismiss a class just because something silly like a bell rang and you would have to go to the principal's office to get a permission slip to get admitted to the next class, plus you had to be issued a hall pass because you couldn't just walk up and down the hall like you owned the place.

I have wondered about this event a lot over the years.  Mr. Hines was such an excellent teacher and swell guy that the whole idea that I was part of a group of students, and these were the cream of the crop at Wheeler, except for one, um, notable exception, would disappoint him so much, truly puzzled me.

Then one day, I had an epiphany.

My wife also went to Wheeler and was in The Riff-Raff Class of '79. That was the class in which Coach Diffley gave an obscene arm signal to at a pep rally. (Historians disagree on the actual act Coach Diffley did. Some say he "flipped off"  The Class of '79 while others claim he did the "Bras d'honneur" which is involves both arms and has lots of moving parts. While I am confident that Coach Diffley did the "Bras d'honneur," I'm pretty sure he didn't call it that.)

She said she was in a class once where the teacher said, "the bell does not dismiss you."

Under intense questioning from me (right after: "Did you get Chick-fil-A sauce?") my wife said the teacher who said this was another Wheeler English teacher, and it was in a class taught in the same year and quarter as my Advanced Grammar class.

I came to the conclusion there must have been an English department meeting where the consensus was that these East Cobb brats are so entitled that they get up and walk out of class when the bell rings like hoodlums.

I don't know if that happened, but it makes sense. It gives me a sense of closure and I'm a peace with that.

Like It Or Lump It: "Citadel"

 

Welcome once again "Like It Or Lump It," in which we recap a new series on one of the streaming services like Netflix, Amazon Prime, Peacock, Hulu, Paramount Plus, Paramount Minus, Apple, Disney +, Pluto, Uranus, Philo, Sling, Slang, Slung, Tubi, Doobie, Doo, et al.

Today we look at "Citadel" starring Priyanka Chopra Jonas as Special Agent Bosoms and Richard Madden as Special Agent Butch Deadlift. I never heard of them either, but they are the stars here.

"Citadel" is a secret international organization that isn’t loyal to any nation—rather, it exists in the shadows to protect all of humanity from Republicans.  Citadel's office is in a super secret location on the side of a mountain in Utah because nobody would ever think to look in Utah. 

Their boss is Bald Man, who is smart because he has no hair. But listen buddy; grass doesn't grow on a busy street.

The show starts on a train passing through the Italian Alps, where Agent Bosoms and Deadlift are assigned to track down a Russian carrying some uranium that would hurt all of humankind.

One thing leads to another, and soon a massive gun battle and brawl take place on the train.  Sort of like an all-night IHOP at 2:00 in the morning. 

Well, you know how Russians are.  The Russian detonates a bomb. Somehow both Agent Bosoms and Deadlift survive the explosion.

There is a time jump, eight years into the future, and Agent Deadlift lives on a farm in rural Oregon, although it is unclear what he does for a living.   He is married to Mrs. Deadlift and they have a daughter, Missy Deadlift.

He has no memory of his Citadel days or Agent Bosoms. He's a happy guy with a happy family and happy he doesn't live in Portland.

Bald Man kidnaps Agent Deadlift to retrieve a case containing nuclear codes before it falls into Manticore’s hands.

Manticore is the E-VIL rival to  Citadel. Manticore is an infamous syndicate whose members manipulate world events to accrue more wealth and power among themselves. Then they sit around the table and laugh about how much wealth and power they have.

The head of Manticore is a British woman who says terrible cuss words in a British accent.  Hey, it is a pressure-filled job, and a gal has to blow off some steam.

Meanwhile, Agent Bosoms works in an upscale restaurant in Spain. Again, it is not really clear what she does in the restaurant except stand around and look hot. If you can get paid for it, more power to you.

Bald Man instructs Deadlift to find Agent Bosoms so they can foil the dastardly schemes of Manticore and their potty-mouthed British Woman boss.

In the following adventures, we learn that Bosoms and Deadlift were once "lovahs," and Bosoms gave birth to a baby girl.  Deadlift was so infatuated that he gave Bosoms an engagement ring which she turned down. 

There are several million action scenes that are really well done if you don't understand what a bullet can do to the human body. 

There are lots of punches. Lots of jumping out of planes. Lots of standing on submarines in the middle of the ocean.

Agent Bosoms is easy on the eyes but she can punch like a man. Agent Deadlift is handsome, but it doesn't seem like his Happy Meal has many French fries.  Bald Man Boss is shot with a high-powered rifle but somehow survives, which you gives him some serious bald man cred.

There are some surprises. Mrs. Deadlift turns out to have been a former Citadel agent. Manticore's boss has a connection to Deadlift that I cannot reveal without violating the 2017 No Spoilers And Debt Limit Extension Act.

"Citadel" is a good action series that doesn't make much sense. The action scenes are well choreographed. The dialogue is stupid, and there are the obligatory swear words.  

If I had to choose, I say....Like It, but I'm easy to please.