The grotesque spectacle unfolding in Minnesota, courtesy of the craven Democrat duo Tim Walz and Jacob Frey, is an affront to the very concept of governance.  These spineless apparatchiks, more suited to leading a chorus of kittens than the helm of a state, have reduced leadership to a farcical pantomime and turned the Twin Cities into a tragi-comic open-air joke where the only law enforced is the one that lets the herd of fat, white, liberal sheep commit felonies while the shepherds bleat about “compassion” and “resistance.”  Their ineptitude is matched only by their audacity, as they openly flout federal law and incite their brainwashed minions to impede enforcement.

Look at them: Walz with his folksy aw-shucks grin that hides the spineless calculation of a man who thinks he knows exactly how far he can push before someone notices the bodies piling up in the ditches of his sanctuary policies; Frey, that chinless wonder, standing at podiums like a defeated altar boy reciting catechism while the city burns around him, telling federal agents to “get the fuck out” as if profanity substitutes for policy, as if rage-tweets and virtue-signaling pressers can rewrite Title 8 of the U.S. Code.  These are not leaders; they are enablers in suits, men who have so thoroughly internalized the lie that borders are racist constructs that they now treat federal law itself as an optional suggestion, a quaint relic from a less enlightened era.

They swallow every delusion fed to them by the party of cowardice – the notion that refusing ICE detainers somehow makes the Somalian streets safer, that releasing criminal aliens back into neighborhoods is an act of moral courage rather than criminal negligence, that the chaos erupting in Minneapolis (protests turning into assaults on agents, vehicles being used as deadly ramming weapons, the whole grotesque theater of impeding federal officers) is somehow the fault of the people trying to enforce the actual goddamn law.  They nod along, eyes glazed, jaws slack, because the alternative – admitting the experiment has failed, that their pieties have real human costs – would require a spine they long ago traded for donor checks and primary endorsements.

The liberal white women of Minnesota, tragically misled and woefully ignorant, march in lockstep behind these pathetic leaders, blindly accepting the lies they’re fed.  Their delusional attempts at relevance are an embarrassment, a tragicomic display of naivety and weakness.  But the two “leaders” seem to blindly trail after the flock like shepherds who have decided to hate their dogs, convinced that the sheep will protect them when the wolves finally show up.  They believe the lies because believing anything else would mean confronting the wreckage: the victims ignored while vigils are held only for the “right” kind of dead, the streets where criminal aliens roam because local jails have become revolving doors courtesy of sanctuary edicts, the slow bleed of public safety replaced by performative outrage.

The only solution that remains when elected officials openly abet felony obstructions and turn their jurisdictions into no-go zones for federal law enforcement: invoke the Insurrection Act, immediately and without apology.  These aren’t merely policy disagreements; this is active interference, conspiracy to impede officers in the performance of their duties, felonies stacked like cordwood while Walz and Frey issue statements about “authoritarian tactics” and “intimidation.”  Crush them in the streets, if necessary – not with glee, but with the cold necessity of restoring order when the civil authorities have abdicated.  Let the noise of boots and badges drown out the bleating; let the broken noses and busted jaws of the enablers serve as the final punctuation on their tragic, self-inflicted delusion.

Because nothing else works.  Personal experience has shown it: these loudmouthed lemmings will crumble at the first sign of real resistance, their feigned bravado giving way to pitiful sobs of defeat.  These “men” only understand force when their own hides are at stake, when the abstract principles they’ve weaponized suddenly become very concrete handcuffs.  Until then, they will keep propagating and swallowing the lies, keep leading the herd toward the cliff, convinced the fall is someone else’s fault.

The time for diplomacy is over.  The subs of the weak and defeated have had their day.  Time to end the farce.

N.P.: “Paint It, Green” – Denis Pauna