Wednesday, April 23, 2014

Have I told you my Lakota name?

Thank you, Captain Aspie.

Hey, you know how you can find the Linux user at a party? Don't bother looking, because Linux users don't get invited to parties. Sorry, I meant to say "Don't worry, they'll tell you."

Another thing to think about...

The report, entitled Too Many Guns: How Shootout With Bombing Suspects Spiraled into Chaos, shows that the initial shootout in which Tamerlan Tsarnaev was eventually killed was almost a circular firing squad, as on-duty and off-duty officers, some in uniform and some in street clothes, arrived on the scene from multiple directions and began shooting no only at the Tsarnaev brothers, but each other:
There's another lesson here that I'm not seeing discussed because of all the "Hurr-hurr, har-har, cops! Amirite?"

So, there our hero is, sitting in the mall, munching on a Chick-fil-A and reading Sheepdog Magazine Monthly when that event that he's wargamed out in gun forum discussion boards for years finally happens! A bunch of guys yelling "Allahu akhbar!" come swarming out of the GAP, firing AK-47s from the hip and headed straight for the food court!

"Get behind me, sheeple!" screams our hero, as he does a quick reload-with-retention, dropping the 15-round magazine from his carry gun, Glock 17 with the grip chopped to G19 length, and jamming a 33-round extended magazine (You know, the one he keeps in his weak si... sorry, "other strong side" hip pocket in case of terr'ist attack) into the gun.

Using the tactics he learned at Rick Taylor's Advanced Tactical Combat Gunfighting Level II class, he assaults into the ambush...

...Only to be mowed down by the guys in blue who show up towards the tail end of the festivities. Hey, the cops came in response to some guy shooting up the food court; in the absence of a big glowing "Good Guy!" light over our hero's head, they're not gonna know he's not him:
  • There's a dude...
  • With a gun...
  • In the food court...
  • Bang.
I wonder if more firearms training should involve knowing when to drop the gun with a quickness for deconfliction purposes?

Tuesday, April 22, 2014

Internet Marketing ProTip:

When you email the contact address on a personal blog and ask "Who’s the best person to speak with regarding advertising?" then it's pretty obvious that you are not doing any actual research. You should not be surprised when your email does not get answered and then react by sending slightly butthurt-sounding followups.

You have got to be $#!++ing me.

Via this satire post at Rational Gun, I discovered that the Navy of my country is naming a ship after Gabby Giffords, apparently for doing nothing other than stopping a bullet.

I feel like I'm suddenly in some weird parallel universe. Seriously? I'm sorry for what happened to Gabby and all, but getting shot does not qualify one for being memorialized in steel as an instrument of our nation's vengeance, else the docks at Norfolk and Pearl would be crowded with Jovantays and Tyshons.

Is there no indignity to which we will not stoop to show how kind'n'caring we are? How about the USS Gaia? USS Harmonious Foreign Relations? USS Fluffy

Vehicle Update.

Scheduled the Zed Drei at the shop. Planning on a rental for the weekend. The Subie may sit for a bit. Thanks, guys.

Even if you build it, they probably still won't come.

Indianapolis's Republican mayor, retired Marine LtCol Greg Ballard, has decided that what Indianapolis needs is an electric car sharing program. Apparently
“The EV (electric vehicle) sharing program is a proven transit alternative for residents who cannot afford to own a car or for those who do not want to own a car,” Ballard told regulators.
This is obviously some new usage of the word "proven" with which I am not familiar.

He went on to further justify the expense by saying that other EV owners could use the charging stations when not in use by the participants in the car-sharing program.

What other EV owners, though? Here in Broad Ripple, you'd think that electrics would be a huge hit. I mean, you have the combination of a trendy neighborhood full of SWPLs with cramped city streets; to look around the parking lots around Broad Ripple Avenue, one would think that the Fiat 500 and the Mini Cooper were the two best-selling cars of the last couple years and that the Smart ForTwo was a strong seller rather than the market flop it is. Yet I've only seen one Leaf, a couple Teslas, and a few Th!nks (one of which is in a business's livery.)

This pattern of electric boondoggleness tracks with what I've seen elsewhere. I've snapped pictures of charging stations hither and yon across this fair land, easily visible due to the lack of cars parked in front of them in otherwise-full parking lots:

Lonely in Los Alamos

Not in use in Knoxville
So the city wants to spend a chunk of change on this boondoggle when we've got an undermanned police department in crisis and winter-ravaged roads that have actually become deadly in places.

Priorities, Mayor Greg, priorities.

Monday, April 21, 2014

Apparently the universe didn't like me being all smiley.

Local gossip...

It has been noted that the husband of The Mouth of Bloomberg, Mrs. Shannon Watts, has (or rather, had) an art gallery in Zionsville, a suburb north of Indianapolis. Just to provide a little local color, downtown Zionsville is made of art galleries and antique shops the way Broad Ripple is made of hair salons and vintage clothing stores:
Zionsville is lousy with "hobby businesses". Mrs. Doctor or Mrs. Esquire has an antique shop or a gallery as a tax write-off.

Seriously, get in your Google car and take a virtual drive around the main drag; it's the sort of painfully twee small town square on the fringes of the big city that has been preserved by the kind of people who love old Victorians and do not wish to dwell in the thunderously gauche McMansions of Bedroomville next door, but don't want to risk living in a trendy in-town neighborhood, either, because there might be black people nearby.
Mrs. Watts' hoplophobia is amusing for multiple reasons. For instance there's the entrenched view of the dwellers in the northern bedroom communities along the Zionsville-Carmel-Fishers arc that the area south of I-465 is some sort of blasted wasteland, a la Robocop's Detroit, a view greeted by bemused headshakes in the leafy streets of Meridian Hills. Proximity to The Big City gives the northern suburbanites an almost pathological fear of crime; the Monon Trail extension into Carmel was opposed on the grounds that it would be an artery of urban crime, apparently for criminals too dumb to use the hundreds of existing streets.

The other is that Zionsville is not in Hamilton County, like Carmel, but rather in Boone County, which is something of a mecca for Midwest gun nuts, since the (sadly, term-limited) sheriff is an adjunct Gunsite instructor and brings trainers like Louis Awerbuck, Steve Tarani, and Pat Rogers to the sheriff's department range for open-enrollment classes because he thinks armed and trained citizens make his job easier. Shannon should look into taking a class.

More blrgl.

Roomie was had to go stand watch in the starship's engine room last night, so I was up 'til 0mygod30 playing World of Warcrack wit mah peeps.

Hence the rather late start this morning. (And even then I was asleep for a couple hours by the time she got in, so it'll be a while yet before she's up and about.)

Sunday, April 20, 2014

Days don't get much better than this.

Absolutely Chamber of Commerce weather out there; you couldn't order a nicer day from a catalog. Shootin' Buddy was in the neighborhood, and so we made the most of it:
Brunch at Cafe Patachou at 49th & Penn. I had the Julia omelet, which is Smoking Goose jowl bacon & Swiss, and I slathered it with a healthy dollop of Sriracha.
We sat on the patio, which hosted a crowd that looked like the cover of SWPL Quarterly. Shootin' Buddy got docked points for not wearing his aviators ironically.

...and then to the range.

Need a hat cam. I was doing quite nicely on the new(ish) steel at MCF&G shooting both hands, but the camera was too much of a distraction from a good sight picture for SHO shooting. While I still managed to bat .700 with the 22/45, I set the camera down after just the two shots with the Glock. To borrow Tuco's advice, "When you have to shoot, shoot, don't shoot."

Shootin' Buddy brought classier range toys. A Model 17 and a Model 18.

After the range, a stop at Moe & Johnny's in SoBro on the way home for a pint of Three Floyds Zombie Dust.
The only thing that could make this day any better would be a hammock in the back yard.

Saturday, April 19, 2014

The lowest form of single-celled digital life...

I think the families of those still missing should be allowed to troll the perpetrators right back. With tire tools. It would be extremely lulzy to watch the Cheeto dust fly while they whimpered "It was ju-u-st a j-joke! P-p-please! Not the face!"

Looking up...

It's been a long, depressing winter for a host of reasons, and as bad as it was, the weather was the least of them. Still, the mill wheel must turn; if you can keep from drowning while it's got you dunked, it'll pull you up out of the water on the other side.

Got a phone call from Farmer Frank last night. He got his discharge papers from the rehab place in Chicago (honorable ones, mind you!) and is now continuing his rehabilitation work closer to home, in Lafayette, IN. I don't know if it's true or not, but I've heard that being on Hoosier soil is, for Frank, like the light of a yellow sun is for Clark Kent.

Woke this morning to a glorious spring day. Kept to my morning exercises, to which I need to add more, got some chores done for work, and then rode my bike in to Broad Ripple Proper for brunch at Brugge Brasserie and a stop at the grocery store on the way home.

If this keeps up, I may even be able to write something.

The Broad Ripple SUV in it's natural habitat. The sunny weekend has brought the tourists out in droves.


Ice cream machine's all jammed up this morning.

Maybe later.

Friday, April 18, 2014

Fear and Loathing in the Circle City.

With the local network channels having taken inexplicably late notice of the fact that the NRA Annual Meeting is scheduled for our fair burg later this month, Naptown media outlets have been struggling to find a handle to attach to the story.

Indy's Fox affiliate finally came up with one yesterday, to the effect of "OMG! With all the police-action shootings in our city this year, what are we to make of thousands of gun-toting NRA members coming to town?"

Perhaps unfortunate story timing on Fox59's part, since the biggest danger to IMPD officers yesterday, April 17th, turned out to be other IMPD officers.

As a side note, you'll note the further evidence that restraining orders still aren't bulletproof:
"Question is to whether or not she was safe, she was, in fact, we were protecting her. We also made sure with the protective order in addition to, provided protection to him," Hite said.
Perhaps an unfortunate choice of words, Chief Hite.

So anyway, Fox59, I don't think you have much to worry about Cletus and Lurleen coming to town to "Ooh!" and "Ahh!" at Fudd guns; I think there's enough muck to rake right here inside the county line without having to look elsewhere.

Speaking of a vanished time...

Before S&W had a "Model 27", it was just called the ".357 Magnum". When it debuted, it was a special order piece that cost sixty dollars at a time when Smith's next most expensive firearm sold for $45 to your mailbox.

To put that in perspective, a nice Ford 40A Deluxe coupe would have only been $535, if you just paid sticker and didn't haggle.

Thursday, April 17, 2014

Irony is dead.

While I'd seen a bunch of the chatter about it on the 'net, I hadn't read Bloomie's self-aggrandizing wankery about how he was going to buy his way into Heaven by taking my guns because he assumes JHVH is as down on the Second Amendment as he is. I didn't feel like paying any attention to the "Look At Me!" bellows of the dinosaur as it stares at the inevitability of its own extinction.

However the quote over at New Jovian Thunderbolt's place nearly made me put the claimed water- and/or coffee-proof qualities of my keyboard to the test:
“This is not a battle of dollars, this is a battle for the hearts and minds of America so that we can protect our children, protect innocent people,” former-mayor Michael Bloomberg said.
It takes a pretty exotic combination of chutzpah and tone-deafness to announce the spending of fifty million greenbacks with "This is not a battle of dollars."

I went on and found out that he thinks he's going to build a grassroots organization with top-down money, proving that it's hard to understand what exactly "grassroots" are when you're fifty floors up in Manhattan and there's not a blade of grass in sight.

Bloomie is obviously yet another person with a bad case of Elvis Syndrome and in dire need of a Smithers.

"Smithers, go buy me a swelling in the hearts and minds of the little people."

"Uh, sir, I don't think it works that way."

He said he only wants to stop criminals and the mentally ill from buying guns but you know that, to Mike at least, the very desire to purchase a firearm marks one as one or the other of those two categories. Sometimes I have to resort to boxing my own ears to make the steady drone of bull$#!+ stop.

Interesting times...

With all eyes on Ukraine, what happens if China gets froggy in the Ryukyus?

Does the PLAN have the wheaties to elbow aside USN and JMSDF forces in the area? If they confined themselves to southern Ryukyus and didn't go as far as Okinawa, would we honor our treaty commitments to Japan, or would we just...



...would we just impose sanctions on China?