<![CDATA[Antifa]]><![CDATA[Democrat Party]]><![CDATA[Graham Platner]]>Featured

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May 26, 2026
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So, like, hey. 

Did y’all hear that Nazi Graham Platner had covered up that Nazi abomination on his fur-encrusted chest yet?

Yeah. He did.

After going through several variations of excuses from, ‘Really? I had no idea it was a Nazi tattoo’ to ‘Got me a Nazi tattoo while I was out with my homies in Croatia…’





…when it turns out the slickster knew what it was all along.

…But according to a person who socialized with Platner when he was living in Washington, D.C., more than a decade ago, Platner had specifically acknowledged that the tattoo was a Totenkopf, the “death’s head” symbol adopted by an infamous Nazi SS unit that guarded concentration camps in World War II.

“He said, ‘Oh, this is my Totenkopf,’” the former acquaintance told Jewish Insider recently, speaking on the condition of anonymity to address a sensitive issue. “He said it in a cutesy little way.”

The exchange occurred in 2012 at Tune Inn, a popular dive on Capitol Hill where Platner later worked as a bartender and was a frequent patron while he attended The George Washington University on the G.I. bill, according to the former acquaintance. He would often take his shirt off drinking with friends late at night at the bar, and on at least one occasion had stated he knew what the tattoo represented, the former acquaintance recalled.

The party of empathy responded to Platner’s pathetic self-induced plight as only they could.





It’s as if none of his garbled explanations for any of his horse poop matter, and the extra ink now injected overtop that revolting symbol of all that’s wrong with mankind has miraculously made it ‘all good.’ Dems are jumping in with both feet to send the thug with the covered-up Nazi tat to the Senate, especially the anti-oligarchical ones.

I bring up the continuing offense of Mr. Platner’s embrace by the party to illustrate my next point, which is, in itself, a truism.

Yesterday was Memorial Day.

In Minneapolis, it was St George Floyd Day. 

The mayor, Jacob Frey, who had blubbered like a baby whilst kneeling beside the unalived felon’s casket during one of his three (or was it four) state funerals, sent out a lengthy Xweet thread, extolling all the wonderful changes and hard work the expired addict had spurred in the city, not to mention the flame and riot-inspired urban renewal.

Well, come to think of it, he didn’t so much mention urban renewal as announce something reminiscent of Soviet building projects.





The governor, whose wife had so enjoyed the sniffage of burning rubber during the evening St Floyd conflagrations that she kept the mansion windows open, managed to get up a Memorial Day message, and then spent the bulk of his day in reverential Floydisms.

It’s a free country because of the brave, not the cowardly and stupid.

These two clowns and their ilk – like Jersey Mikie Sherrill going to a burgeoning protest outside an Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) facility in Newark…

…you could almost fill in their disrespectful, finger-in-your-eye BS in your sleep. It’s so trite, so predictable, and so scripted.

The ‘How DARE you?!’ crowd is the first to piss in your cornflakes while insisting you forced them to do it.

Democrats will stoop astoundingly low to grasp an objective; sometimes, you wonder how they can breathe for all the pigslop they are willing to inhale in their nasal passages. You think, ‘this has got to be the scum scraped off rock bottom, cuz you can’t go no lower.’





And, then, by God, they do.

This was how the Democrats chose to commemorate and honor the nation’s fallen.

Incandescent with rage, I nearly came out of my skin and had to delete and rewrite my answer lest I wind up permanently banned from X for a flaming of epic proportions.

As you might imagine, there were many other voices exploding in outrage with mine. 

Some used more circumspect language than most, but then again, Duckworth is a Democrat.

I guess the blast-furnace heat in the kitchen finally became too much, even for the sick sumbitches who run Ken Martin’s little social media accounts. They vaporized the Xweet and put up what should have been there to begin with.

But the innerwebs are forever, and they have captured that first impulse of the Democratic Party’s public orifice for all time.

There is nothing shared that is sacrosanctly American anymore, not even the dead themselves, to Democrats desperate to score.





Not even for the one day out of 365 honoring our fallen can Democrats be decent enough ‘AMERICANS‘ to, at the very least, exercise some self-control. They can’t stuff a sock in their general indulgence in depravity for even 24 hours.

This is the Democratic Party truism that is proving itself time and again – there is no low ‘too low.’

When excusing the inexcusable to achieve what it takes?

There are no limits to the depths they are willing to plumb.

They’ll do it in a heartbeat and never look back.


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