How did we get here? The Kavanaugh Supreme Court nomination circus didn't happen by accident. The emergence of incredible—and by "incredible," I mean the literal Merriam-Webster definition of "too extraordinary and improbable to be believed"—accusers in the 11th hour was no mistake.

It is my contention that this grand unearth-and-destroy spectacle was planned, coordinated and facilitated by Senate Judiciary Committee Democrats and their staffers.

After the FBI finishes its Freshmen Booze Investigations, Federal Barfight Interrogations and Fraternity Barfing Incidents probe of every last Yale and Holton Arms acquaintance and publicity hound ever photographed with Judge Brett Kavanaugh, every cog in the Resistance Wrecking Machine must be investigated:

Protest Orchestration. The hearings were doomed from the very start, when 70 screaming demonstrators (including Women's March holy warrior Linda Sarsour and actress Piper Perabo) systematically infiltrated the Hart Senate Office Building and disrupted the proceedings in Hour One of Day One. Day Two saw another 72 social justice mobsters arrested, with more than 200 total taken into custody by Capitol Police by the end of Day Three.

The tire place. The Derbmobile had a slow leak on its right front tire, so Saturday morning I took it to the tire place.

My little town has a tire place everyone goes to. Perhaps yours does too. Our tire place is squinched in a short street between two bigger streets about to converge—like the bar of an upper-case "A"—in the low-commercial part of town (body shops, dry cleaners, chain drug stores, bodegas). The frontage is only about a hundred feet wide, twenty deep. There are four bays and a service-desk area.

Saturday morning they are super busy. There's a small army of guys directing you to a parking place on the street or the forecourt, or into a bay. Under their directions, I parked at one side of the forecourt. A guy came out from the building and asked me, in a heavy Spanish accent, what was up. I told him. He jacked up the car, span the wheel, and quickly located a tiny nail imbedded in it. I was not to worry, he assured me, he could feex it, no prob-lem!

He took off the wheel and disappeared with it into a bay. I waited by the car, admiring the wonderful skill with which the choreographers, by gestures and shouting, managed the inward and outward flow of cars and customers. Skill and precision—the tire place guys deserve a mention in Simon Winchester's book (below). Tolerance: 1 inch.

It seemed to me there must be endless possibilities for fender-benders with so many vehicles in such a small space. Does it ever happen? I asked one of the guys. "Not to my knowledge," he replied in regular Long Islandish, never taking his eyes off the corps de ballet.

My man came back with the wheel, wet from the puncture bath. He put it back on, dzz dzz dzz, let down the car, and walked me to the service desk. Twelve dollars.

I almost like coming here: everyone working hard but good-natured, everything done so efficiently in such a confined space, fair prices, no fuss. No chicanery, either: They've never tried to sell me a new tire when the existing one is feex-able. The tire place is a model of useful everyday commerce.

There's a serpent lurking in my paradise, though. A couple of streets over there's a stretch of road where illegal aliens hang out early in the morning, looking for a day's work. The probability that by having my tire fixed here I am participating in the cheap-labor racket I seethe and fume about on VDARE.com, is very high.

All sorts of questions arise. As a conscientious patriot, shouldn't I be lobbying ICE to raid the tire place?

Or: Suppose they did raid it while I was lounging there by my car watching the forecourt maneuvers. Suppose they went into the bay where cheerful, efficient José was fixing my tire and brought him out in cuffs. Would I be, like, "Hey, wait a minute, fellers …" If José looked at me, would I look right back at him? What if ICE shut down the tire place and frog-marched the proprietors off to the bridewell?

Damn these moral conundrums! Answers: I am lobbying, in my own way, trying to bring my own particular limited abilities to the issue, writing internet articles deploring our open borders.

And no, I wouldn't interfere with an ICE operation. You do the crime, you do the time—sorry, pal. It wasn't me left the border open. Yes, I could meet his eyes. What's right, is right. Scoffing at our laws is wrong. If ICE shuts down the tire place, there's one in the next town over.

I do think, though, that after watching José being driven away, I'd feel a strong urge to find the nearest politician and break his jaw on José's behalf.

Of course ICE didn't show up. After paying the lady at the service desk, my man was hovering outside expectantly. I gave him an extravagant tip.

Imagine that two football teams of two rival states facing off at the Super Bowl—the Minnesota Vikings and Wisconsin’s Green Bay Packers. As luck would have it, the Super Bowl is being held in Minneapolis—Minnesota’s biggest city, and just a short drive from the Wisconsin border. As the game got going, tensions between the rival fan groups start to rise. More and more alcohol is consumed. The two teams are neck-and-neck with ten minutes left on the clock. Suddenly, all hell breaks loose—the way it sometimes happens with large groups of drunk and angry people. Imagine the fans of both teams running riot. Imagine police later estimating that, that night, about 2,000 men across Wisconsin and Minnesota committed around 1,200 sexual assaults—including rapes—in public, on women suspected of being supporters of the other side. The majority of the assaults took place in public places, such as bus terminals, train stations, and parking lots. The men worked in groups, with some creating a human wall around one or two women while individual men then committed vile acts.

Now imagine what Main Stream Media coverage of this would look like. Think of what actions journalists would demand be taken by law enforcement and public safety officials. Ask yourself how many of the trials would be covered live by 24-hour cable TV. How many talking heads would call for football to be abolished, or at least the NFL? How many screeds about “toxic masculinity” or “male privilege” would be published?

In fact, the last Super Bowl was indeed held in Minneapolis, Minnesota. But my imaginary scenario did not happen. The Philadelphia Eagles beat the New England Patriots. No riots or rapes came of it.

Republican leaders are "a bunch of wimps," said Jerry Falwell Jr.

Conservatives and Christians need to stop electing "nice guys."

"The US needs street fighters like Donald Trump at every level of government because the liberal fascists Dems are playing for keeps."

So tweeted the son and namesake of the founder of the Moral Majority, and he has here a self-evident point.

Thursday, 11 GOP senators on the judiciary committee freely forfeited to a female prosecutor their right to cross-examine Christine Blasey Ford, the accuser of Judge Brett Kavanaugh.

The Republicans feared that televised images of 11 white men, sharply questioning the credibility of Ford's claim to be a victim of Kavanaugh's sexual assault, would be politically lethal.

When Christine Blasey Ford accused U.S. Supreme Court nominee Brett Kavanaugh of attempted rape, she, her Leftist lawyers and her crackpot supporters demanded that the typical procedures for getting at the truth be turned upside down. This has shocked normal Americans. But it just means that Campus Rape-Culture Hysteria has escaped asylum and is now invading America.

Consider:

• First, Ford backers didn’t want her to appear before the Senate Judiciary Committee, abrogating Kavanaugh’s right to face his accuser and permitting her to avoid supporting her accusations.
• Then they wanted Kavanaugh to testify first, which would force Kavanaugh to answer her cloudy charges before he heard them.
• Third, Kavanaugh would have to prove his innocence because when it comes to rape, we must believe the accuser.

Recent Campus Rape-Culture atrocities make it clear where these ground rules came from.

• After the 2006-2007 Duke Rape Hoax, President Richard Brodhead did not fire the professors and administrators who lied about the lacrosse players. Duke’s Board of Trustees did not fire Brodhead. Instead, it rewarded him, and. Not a single one of the Duke faculty or bureaucrats who joined in the witch hunt was so much as reprimanded.

But the Duke Rape Hoax was also a Main Stream Media failure. The editors and reporters who made the real victims into household names and destroyed their lives, refused to name the real perp, career criminal Crystal Gail Mangum, now a convicted murderess. [Media Faulted In Duke Case, by Nick Madigan, The Sun, April 12, 2007]  As far as I have been able to determine, not one of those crooked newsmen was fired either. Indeed, in recent years, some fake newsmen have even sought to revive the Duke Rape Hoax!

• When Jackie Coakley engineered the rape hoax at the University of Virginia with the assistance of Rolling Stone CultMarx Enforcer Sabrina Rubin Erdely, the MSM showered Erdely with praise.

But then two white men, Richard Bradley and Steve Sailer asked the obvious questions. Then came The Washington Post, to its credit, and the hoax fell apart. [‘Catfishing’ over love interest might have spurred U-Va. gang-rape debacle, By T. Rees Shapiro, January 8, 2016]