Friday, October 31, 2008
Following your links back to the New York Post article (Here. ed.), it is eye-popping to see how extremely emotionally unstable this crowd is. Back spasms? Daily phone melt-downs? They're just aswim in the tempestuous seas of their own emotions; anchorless.
It's easy to see why they think being armed means going on a shooting rampage whenever you have a bad hair day. For people with complete emotional incontinence and to whom the concept of self-mastery is utterly unknown, that's probably what it would be like.
It's almost as though they feel they're playing against a shot clock now, and someone has said "Okay, enough wiretapping; we've got the data we're going to get. Let's get these guys off the board before the hippies take over."
Uh, yeah. Exactly. And it should tell you something that I'd even prefer another Patriot Act, another foreign war of questionable necessity, and another stock market crash to the big bolus of HopeyChangey I'm being threatened with by the other side. I mean, worst case scenario, we wiretap some more hippies, bomb some more foreigners, and some more stockbrokers jump out of windows. Really, how does this hurt me?
The other side wants to do things like sell me bad health insurance at gunpoint. Yeah, 'cause you guys have done such a splendid job with my retirement funds, now I want to let you run my doctor's office, too. If your health care plan is so great, how come I'm no doubt going to be thrown in jail if I don't opt in?
One side is offering me politicians acting like politicians, which is to say power-hungry, callous, and scheming; the other side is trying to offer me politicians acting like missionaries, and that scares the crap out of me. Given a choice between the devil I know and the devil I don't, I'm going to stick with the one I know. Especially if the one I don't is offering me milk and cookies.
Meanwhile, I woke this morning to an Obama commercial on the TeeWee. Either nobody on the campaign has a sense of irony, or we have a mole in his ad agency. There were multiple (at least two) images of The Man Himself with arm raised rigidly at an approximately 45-degree angle, and it closed with him saying "...and that's how we will emerge from this crisis. As one nation! One people!"
"One leader!" I couldn't help but add.
Jeez. Either that was deliberate, or there are some clueless mofos on Madison Avenue these days. (Then again, Madison Avenue thought that "Virago" was a manly name for a motorcycle, so you never know...)
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Some Worcestershire sauce.
Rest of the sauerkraut from that jar in the 'fridge.
Slice brat. Put in frying pan with beer, Worcestershire sauce. Shake salt & pepper over pan some. When good & sizzling, add kraut. Stir some until kraut starts to brown a bit and smell drives you wild with hunger. Transfer whole mess into bowl. Eat. Yum.
1) M1 Garand?
2) FN-49 in 8mm Mauser?
3) SVT-40 Tokarev?
4) Remington Model 11 riot gun?
I've got enough ammo in .30-'06, 8x57JS, and 7.62x54R to reenact The Gauntlet, but I'm a little light on 12 gauge; maybe 100 rounds or so. Suggestions are being entertained in comments...
The Austrians had allied with their fellow Deutsche-speakers in the fracas, and to celebrate their joint victory, the Prussians stomped the holy heck out of them a year and a half later, then took a couple year breather before beating France to a paste.
Europe in the latter half of the 19th Century was a generally peaceful place, but every time there was a dustup, it seems that it was called the "Something-Prussian War". Cops call that "the usual suspects"; authors call it "foreshadowing".
To say she is less than amused would give me a pretty good leg up in the Understatement of the Year contest.
My roomie looked at me like I had lost my mind. Apparently she had never seen fried 'kraut before.
Well, I thought it was yummy...
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
(Oh, and the TeeWee will blessedly shut up with the ads for at least a whole three months until we start building up for the 2012 campaign season. The steady drone of bullshit has me boxing my own ears out of frustration.)
In internet chatrooms and the letters column of Guns'n'Gear mags, maybe.
Generally, though, most everybody with serious credentials says one thing, and a handful of guys (most who coincidentally have techniques named after themselves and epaulettes on their shirts) say a few other, different things.
Incidentally, I'm planning to name a technique after myself, start teaching an "intense, high round count course", and let folks dump a case or two of ammunition into the berm unsighted from the hip for two days. That way I make money, and they get to take home a certificate and tell their friends that they're "trained". And since the odds of them being in a shootout in suburbia are slim to frickin' none, we're all happy. It'll be awesome. I just need to think up a name for my technique and order some shirts with epaulettes.
(Folks, you own every bullet that comes out of your gun and everything it touches. If you can't control exactly where it lands, you have no business toting a pistol in public. The easiest method for doing this (outside of arm's reach, anyway) is to use the sights that are conveniently built into every pistol.)
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
1) The Colt 1902 has a bushingless coned barrel.
2) The Colt 1902 has a ramped barrel.
2) The Colt 1900 has double, nested recoil spring a la the Detonics or Delta Elite.
Everything old is new again. :)
Monday, October 27, 2008
The Republican controlled CIA comitted this murder. It is easy to see if you will just open your mind.
1) the murder was a head shot several times over (very unlikely for a mugging/gang violence)
2) Kirsten was uniting the anarchist movement across the country which is a very big threat to the government being this is the key to the movement as a whole (unification in struggle). If people don't know that they are being very ignorant of class consciousness and historical struggles against any oppressor (look at slave rebellions for an example)
3) it is extremely difficult to picture Kirsten provoking any sort of violence or mugging. Anarchists are peace loving, and she had a long history of helping people.
4) this all happened within the same week of the stock market crash and $700 billion bailout plans. Capitalism was heading for a collapse and so those that are in power are very afraid right now (just watch Bush's speech: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ms_O5avYAOs)
4) this happened in the wake of another activist murder in the same week (or at least very close) who was actually saying she was being spied on before she died.
5) this is also in the same time period of a nation-wide raiding of Food Not Bombs and anarchist collectives all over the country (since before and after the RNC).
6) if you look at McCain's name you will see it's a anagram for CIA.
7) McCain is desperate to win the White house and he learned all kinds of Viet cong tricks while a prisoner.
Our government has tortured and assasinated people before. Why do you think it would be any different with this peace loving person?
It's really quite an incredible flight of fancy, and a glimpse into a truly "other" world, one where an omniscient CIA knows and cares about the existence of every campus radical, and has the time and inclination to violate its charter by rubbing them out on U.S. territory because They Matter. It's a world where muggings and murders have to be "provoked"; where predators can divine your inner thoughts and helpful intentions and are driven off by the fluffy bunny waves emanating from within you, rather than just busting a cap in your fool head and taking your bike and your stash. A world where small bands of coffee-house Anarchists have The Capitalists so scared that they send out hit teams...
The world of the conspiranoiac is a fascinating one, and it proved that the space-time continuum curves back on itself. Head way on out there to the right, on out past Fred, out even past Alex Jones, and you suddenly find yourself in the middle of Rage Against The Machine fans, looking at Cynthia McKinney from the other side.
Palin's going rogue? You'd better bring a big elephant gun, baby.
A tango playing "ollie-ollie-oxenfree" across the Syrian border is now "It". Permanently. And no taps back.
Snow flurries? What the heck? It's not even Halloween yet! You people lured me up here so you could by-gawd freeze me to death, didn't you?
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Until Gaia evolves us a twenty-foot-long flying predator to bring the dimwit population back into check, it's nice to see that the gene pool occasionally finds ways to self-chlorinate.
Consider that Barry's "economic reform" proposal of increased income taxes on those with enough money to invest, increased capital gains taxes, and a bump on dividends taxes couldn't put the already-staggering economy down for the count faster if he'd actually aimed between the running lights, one wonders how much longer before those who are pulling the wagon get tired of the weight...
The comments at that post of Dr. Helen's make for fascinating reading.
During the commercial break, while '60s music was being used to sell hair dye to vain older guys who think that it will help them surf and pick up chicks while playing the guitar in a rock band, I had time to ponder as to the reason Boomers, in particular, are so starry eyed over a guy who was still in short pants during the Summer of Love. I have to say, I can't figure what it is.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
ESSENCE.COM: ACORN's voter registration campaign turned in applications signed by phony names or multiple applications for the same person. How did this happen?
BERTHA LEWIS: I think it's important for people to know exactly what is happening. We do massive voter registration to low- and moderate-income folks. The Right Wing and Republicans, specifically, have been coming for us since the 2000 and 2004 elections. Former Attorney General Alberto Gonzales sent U.S. attorneys after us to investigate and try to find a prosecutable action. In 2006, the reason he stepped down is that he fired eight attorneys because they kept coming back to him saying, "There's no evidence; ACORN is clean." They constantly tried to come after us and attack us, and not once anywhere has it been proven that we systematically engage in this activity.
...and then Karl Rove planted listening devices under her tinfoil beanie!
I mean, sweet tapdancing Jesus, there wasn't even an attempt to answer the question, just a "The man is keepin' us down!" so reflexive that it likely came from the same part of the autonomic nervous system that controls liver secretions and never even passed close to the centers of speech, much less higher thought. Ah, well, can't say she doesn't know her target audience...
Friday, October 24, 2008
Well, given an assumption of a tiny bit of cultural literacy and an ear for the euphonious, this poster should have said "Girls say yes to boys who say O."
Although the type of girl who would say "yes" for such an inane reason could probably manage the difficult feat of boring a nineteen year old boy to tears in bed by describing, in all its glory, Obama's tax plan while junior is tryin' to get jiggy wit' it. Bear in mind that these are the people who are immensely in favor of sex ed in public schools and, from what I remember, only the government could come up with a movie about sex that would act as a soporific to a room full of high schoolers.
Courtesy of the good Colonel, I note that 'way back in '87, James Kilpatrick referred to one Sen. Biden as "The Lickspittle Lapdog of the Lunatic Left".
Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose...
(Just curious. Besides, to use the geeky metaphor, every Anakin needs a Palpatine, right?)
Perversely, we live in a world where the sustainability consultant in San Francisco is willing to fly in an exotic boyfriend every month from Washington, D.C. All day, she helps companies "green their supply chains" and "internalize core social costs," yet that eco-savvy seems to vanish at night, when she e-mails: Come visit!!! You might say she's willing to be a locavore but not a locasexual.understand that English is no longer your primary language; you are now speaking snivelese. Also, your sense of priorities is so unhinged that it's in danger of falling off completely. Also also, people like me occasionally lie awake dreaming of bludgeoning you half to death with an uncooked 20-oz. porterhouse.
After reading this, I have determined that henceforth all my long-distance communications with gentlemen will be undertaken with smoke signals from a pyre made of dead baby seals during the day, and by blinking morse code with the flame atop a refinery cracking tower at night.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
In other news, my roomie forgot to duck in the laundry bunker this morning because she had an armful of squirming, adventurous house cat (who is positively fascinated by the Forbidden Basement), and brained herself pretty good on a low-hanging duct. Hopefully she can get close enough to Barry to touch the hem of his garment, which should clear up that bump on her noggin tout de suite.
Whose team are they on? I'd guess that they are obviously affiliated with the Killer Space Robots. Also, since they're sneaky, they'd obviously be tied in with the Ninja/Vampire faction, and therefore opposed to the Pirate/Werewolf/Hippie side.
The West stood by and watched when the Russian tanks rolled in and crushed the uprising after days of bloody street fighting. It was not Freedom's finest hour.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
However, in a sane world V1agra would have knocked the black rhino and the Siberian tiger right back off the endangered species list, so I'm not getting my hopes up about the expedition being backed by pure mythozooic curiosity.
Another on the list of Knives I Will Never Sell is my Greco Whisper. Granted, it's not a tenth the utility knife the Puffin Magnum is, and the odds of me ever being in a knife fight are somewhere between zero and naught, and even if I were I probably wouldn't have the Whisper with me and I'd be totally pwnd anyway because I know doodly-squat about knife fighting... But it's such a sweet knife to hold. It balances nice and fits the hand. The proportions are graceful, especially considering its prybar thickness, and mine even has pretty rosewood scales. Plus I bought it at the first Blade Show I ever attended, back in '02.
While the Chinese have been orbiting manned missions, their archrivals in India have just lofted a probe to orbit and map the lunar surface.
"But Tam," you say "We've already mapped the moon! We're playing with R/C model cars on Mars!"
Yes, but after we mapped the moon and hit a few golf balls around up there, we just turned our back on the whole thing. Scrapped our huge boosters. Used an outdated, overengineered flying garbage truck as a make-work program for NASA and a pork conveyor for incumbent congressweasels. Got in the way of private progress with government interference that would have strapped airbags on the Wright Flyer and prevented them from flying at Kitty Hawk lest they wound some rare sand flea.
The Chinese and Indians are serious about this. This is good. I've mentioned before that when I get to the moon I'd like a choice of food other than Happy Family Pork Seafood Rice #5. I was kinda hoping for a Big Mac rather than some soy & curry concoction, though. If we want to get back in the game, I say we tell Americans that anything that happens over a hundred miles up is tax-free, and then stand the hell back.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
I can still hear Todd Jarrett’s voice saying it clearly, not muffled like I heard it on the square range in North Carolina, because I’d neglected to bring my Peltor Tac 6 active hearing protection on the Blackwater trip. (Who knew those AA batteries would still be good three years later?)
I didn’t cover myself in glory at Blackwater. Oh, I was solidly a mid-pack shooter, and nobody had to worry about me suddenly displaying inept gun-handling skills; safety is well and truly ingrained in my reptilian hindbrain. But my shooting wasn’t up to what I knew I could do.
My trigger finger was doing the right thing, and I had a crisp, clear picture of the front sight, and I was sure I wasn’t flinching, but…
“Grip the gun twenty percent tighter!”
Jeez, Todd, I’m already gripping the thing harder than I ever would in any target discipline like bullseye or silhouette, and I’m still dropping shots at speed here. What do you want me to do? Crush it?
Fast forward to about a week ago. I was re-reading The Gun Digest Book of Combat Handgunnery, 5th Edition, by Massad Ayoob, because I remembered it being pretty inclusive and non-doctrinaire and a good shooting primer; I thought I remembered it as having a lot of basic practical shooting advice to help my roommate for the upcoming bowling pin match.
In Chapter Four, Ayoob discussed the “crush grip” for combat shooting, and mentioned that gripping the heck out of the gun with the non-trigger fingers of the strong hand prevented them squeezing sympathetically with the trigger finger when shooting at speed. (If they were already squeezing as hard as they could, it was hard for them to tighten any more.) It was like a little light went on over my head; like some weird chemistry; spoken hydrogen and written oxygen combining to make shooting water...
“Grip the gun twenty percent tighter!”
Last Saturday at the range I put it into practice. Shooting the Pro for the first time in months, I squeezed heck out of the grip with everything but the trigger finger, concentrated on the front sight, and…. BANG! The .45 bullet blew the “-0” right out of the center of the target. w00t! BANG! BANG!BANG! BANGBANGBANG! A big, ragged hole appeared around the first perforation. I was on fire!
I tried my Colt 1903, with the same result. Four different S&W wheelguns, in .22 and .38: No change. Back to the 1911, this time on a bowling pin silhouette and… Huzzah! I was dialed in!
Something I’d heard mixed with something I’d read and became something I knew. And it worked!
I can’t wait to try it on those nefarious bowling pins Saturday morning…
They're not saying it was retaliation for her appearance in that "W" movie, either, but you know how the New World Order works...
I'll tell you what, this Bush Derangement Syndrome thing is almost as much fun as playing Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon, and a whole lot less mentally challenging.
Monday, October 20, 2008
I do like the opening sentence:
A financially strapped South Korean man went on an arson and stabbing rampage in Seoul on Monday, leaving six people dead and seven others wounded, police said."Financially strapped"? It must be the GOP's fault. Evil capitalists! Look at how they cause stabbings.
Thankfully stuff like this will stop on January 21st.
I speak, of course, of the knob who decided to use a godawful looping edit of the chorus of "Saved By Zero", by The Fixx, for that stupid Toyota ad.
Wow! A quick Google search shows that I am not suffering alone. There may even be a support group.
On October 20th, 1944, filming began on The Heroic General; a short film written, directed, produced, and inspired by Douglas MacArthur.
Heroically wading ashore and bravely exposing his trousers to saltwater stains, Gen. MacArthur managed to seize the already secured beach in less than twenty dramatic takes.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
"One difference between a liberal and a pickpocket is that if you demand your money back from a pickpocket he will not question your motives."
-William Rusher, writing in National Review in nineteen hundred and eighty-four.
MR. MATTHEWS: Sarah Palin was around today talking about pro- American parts of America, and assuming there's other non-parts of the country. What parts of America would you say are anti-American? What parts of this country?
TAMARA: Well, the chair your fat ass is parked in, for starters, Chris.
RX: "Will you keep an eye on the bacon for a second while I take care of something really urgent?"
*A brief time elapses. I'm be-bopping spastically in the kitchen, eyes closed, to some internal soundtrack, probably "White and Nerdy" by Weird Al. Unseen by me, my roomie has returned.*
RX: "Oh my gawd, are you doing the Forbidden Bacon Dance?!?"
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Then fun times w/friends, a bit of strolling about Broad Ripple, and then back to tend to the leaves in the yard. Right now I'm taking a quick break from the yard work. I'd write more about each stage of the day, but I gotta get back to it. More in a couple of hours...
Rarely do I sit up and say "Okay, that is a lot of guns."
It's good to have goals. Mine is that, when they finally come after me for felony jaywalking or confuse my address with the crack house two blocks down, and in the aftermath spread all my stuff on bedsheets in the front yard, I want the kids on the intarw3bz gun boards to look at that junk-on-the-bunk display and say "Wow, that is an arsenal."
Anyway, when the Washington Post came out with their endorsement in the Presidential Derby yesterday, they claimed to have a big problem with their old pal, McCain:
And we find no way to square his professed passion for America's national security with his choice of a running mate who, no matter what her other strengths, is not prepared to be commander in chief.So they instead threw their endorsement to The chOsen One, Mr. "Present", the two-year freshman Senator from Chicago. Big shock, there.
That makes sense to someone, I guess. Everybody knows that being the C-in-C of the Obama campaign, with its legions of phone volunteers, is more practical experience than being C-in-C of the AKNG, which only has soldiers and airmen.
Friday, October 17, 2008
Also, there were dead critter heads all over the walls, and the Stevens Crackshots and 11mm pinfire revolver in the showcase by the gift shop were for sale. Tell me that doesn't just knock Cracker Barrel into a cocked hat in the dining experience department.
Try the elk medallions in horseradish sauce for an appetizer. They are teh awesome.
BONUS! Guess whose autographed pic was on the wall:
She: "Whenever it comes on, we just start dancing..."
He: "...no matter what we're doing."
"No matter what we're doing"?!? This has led to a new long-running gag at Roseholme Cottage, based on speculation as to just what they might have to stop to get down with the Bose:
"...we just leap out of the cottage cheese bath and tango in the living room."
"...we drop the sheep and start to rhumba."
"...we throw down the chainsaws, she lets go of my leash, and we do the hustle."
"...we pay the clown, send him home, and waltz through the topiaries, without even wiping off the whipped cream first."
My go-to knife for the past six years has been a McCann Puffin Magnum, which is big enough to handle most chores without being too huge to keep on a belt with ease. Incidentally, mine is the very one Kim Breed tried to destroy in his review for Blade magazine, though you could never tell just by looking at it. O1 tool steel and tough as armor-plated nails...
(That deep belly on the blade will cut holy hell out of your finger, too, if you are grasping the kydex sheath like an idjit while drawing the knife. Ask me how I know. Also, super glue is good for closing cuts when you're many, many dirt-road miles away from civilization. Also, have an ER nurse in deer camp.)
Although, you know, if anyone's looking for a last-minute Halloween costume, all you'd need would be a sari, a cleaver, and a would-be rapist.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
SayUncle has the story on the story.
Well, if she's carrying a Glock, then nothing would be easier for her to use than an identical Glock. Plus they could share magazines.
No agonizing decision required: Get a 9mm Glock just like hers.
There, wasn't that easy? :)
On a tangentially-related note, I've never understood situations where the "His'n'Hers" home defense shotguns are a 12ga Mossenberger 500 and a 20ga 870 Youth Model. Either she should train to the 12 gauge, or, if that's physically impossible, he should realize that it won't hurt his manhood to use a 20ga Remington. Same thing with folks who are all prepared for the Zombocalypse with a manly .308 M1A for him and a dainty little AR for her. Either one or the other would be fine, but it's awfully impractical to use both.
For heaven's sake, if you're going to show it off, at least spring for something made from a name-brand steak wrapper, if you're not willing to go all the way to stingray or sharkskin. (And that 1/2" wide thing from The Gap is not a pistol belt. That's why it's rolling over like that and causing your iron to flop about.)
But I just can't do Alumagrips, sorry. You gotta draw the line someplace.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Speaking of long runs for short slides, would anybody spend time cracking open crab legs or lobster claws if there wasn't crab or lobster inside? I know I wouldn't spend time working over the grasper of an undersea arachnid if the payoff was oatmeal...
Hey, S&W stock may have taken a pounding, but old Smiths themselves have been absolutely blue chip over the last five years. They've all performed well, and I could probably better than double my money on a few. Plus, have you ever tried to knock bowling pins off a table with a stock certificate?
1. Fears of violence as economy tanks
"OMG! We're all gonna die! There's no hope! We need change!"
2. 'Bradley effect' could affect vote
"Don't be a racist. Vote for Obama. You don't want to feel like a racist, do you?"
3. GOP blasts stimulus measures
"Evil Republicans don't want to buy your vote!"
4. Army denies puppy return to U.S.
"Get the Army out of Iraq. With its puppies. Evil GOP!"
5. Polar bear slips into zoo moat
6. Palin aides warned, report says
7. Leader breaks podium, gets laughs
8. McCain speaks out about Lewis
9. Mob mansion may hold more secrets
10. Deadly wildfires rage across L.A.
"zomg we're all gonna die!"
*Sigh* Sometimes you wonder why you bother getting out of bed and re-entering a world full of idiots that are, for the most part, illegal to shoot.
Monday, October 13, 2008
2) How come we get the low-grade Coca Cola here in America? Didn't we invent the stuff?
3) Got the other Mac playing tunes... "No More Tears" and Van Hagar's "Pound Cake"... That takes a girl back.
Lots of mustachioed instructors, Jeff Cooper in the classroom and tooling around on the tactical trike, 2-tone 1911s with Bo-Mar low mounts.
It's interesting to see how much has changed (pure Weaver v. Modern Isosceles, tritium sights are a gadget, the old-school
He hasn't said "rabbit people" yet, but we're only halfway through disc one, so I'm holding out hope.
Here's a sample: Vidjo.
Next problem of course, is the innability to just get a good honest car, they're all loaded to the gills with stupid doodads like Electronic Ashtray Position Sensors which will fail nanoseconds after the warranty expires, most likely at 2:30 AM, February 12, in Deliverance, Kentucky- immediately frying the "ECU", a completely useless device that forces the engine to reswallow it's own vomit time and time again so that factories that produce children's toys out of lead-coated asbestos can purchase "clean air credits", and do-gooder dumbass politicos can jump in their private jets and deliver a sermon to me about how I'm personally responsible for the extinction of the Brazilian Banded Aardvark because my '92 F150 burns a quart of oil every 1,000 miles.Don't hold back! Tell us what you really think, man...
Sunday, October 12, 2008
2) Organize reloading supplies.
3) Find all my ammunition and sort it. There are still a couple of big boxes chock full of ammo left unexcavated from the move, including all my ferschlugginer .32ACP, without which I can't fire my Colt 1903.
4) Contemplate removing the layer of road cack from the Zed Three.
I shot a little over 100 rounds of .22LR through my Model 34, and put probably 200 rounds or more of .38 Spl downrange. Some of it was shot through my Model 64 snubbie, but the vast majority was fired through what is probably going to be my new pin gun: my pre-war 5" .38/44 Heavy Duty. I replaced the target stocks in the picture with linen micarta smooth combat stocks and a Tyler T-grip. Most of the ammo run through the gun was from the case of Federal 147gr +P+ Hydrashoks I have left sitting around, to see how it would handle and shoot with the kind of loads required for clearing a bowling pin off the table with anything like alacrity. I was pleased.
We met Brigid at the range, and she joined my friend and I for lunch at Rick's, and put pictures of the foray up at her blog. From there, my friend and I went off on a gun store crawl before returning to Broad Ripple for dinner at Sam's Gyros, and then to the theatre to see the new Ridley Scott flick, Body Of Lies, which is teh awesome. (When did Leonardo DiCaprio stop looking like Doogie Howser? He was all growed up and stuff in this movie, and very believable. BTW, am I the only one who thinks that if Caleb rocked a goatee there would be more than a slight resemblance?)
Saturday, October 11, 2008
I need to lay in dies for 9mm and .45ACP, as well as .223. I should probably lay in a complete swatch of loading supplies for .32 S&W Long; cheap to load and cheap to shoot. If I'm actually going to start reloading rifle cases, rather than just talking about it, I need a good case trimmer. I need a good tumbler. I need to teach my roommate.
EDIT: Just rummaging around to go to the range this morning and realized another must-have: .44-40 dies. Gotta keep my Model 544 fed.
Friday, October 10, 2008
In a Mark Morford column containing the following breathless claim about Barry O...
Because the truth is, the notion of an Obama presidency yields many gifts. Foremost: a refreshed intellectual climate, a far higher quality of basic discourse. Squinting and bumbling and "is our children learning" are out, articulation and oratory nuance are in. Out: aw-shucks "go with my gut" Joe Six-pack pseudo-cowboy Jesus-says. In: thoughtfulness, polysyllabic words, sentences with complicated construction and meaning....we find the following set of phrases broken on the wheel of tortured sentence structure:
No longer will it be tolerable when chatting up a sweet young thing or an older tasty thing at a bar or fetish dungeon or Whole Foods cheese aisle and casually toss in a reference to Obama's solar initiative or the multifaceted cultural upheaval happening in China or India, to watch his eyes glaze over as he shrugs and stares at his shoes and mumbles something about getting baked while lubing his skateboard and watching Xtreme Motocross on ESPN2.Sweet zombie Jesus! Physician, heal thyself.
(Yeah, I know my monthly trip to go see what asshattery Morford's up to now will eventually cause me to stroke out, but I'm addicted to the "irritainment", as MattG so cleverly termed it.)
- "What does 'zomg' mean?" Well, when you see "OMG!" on teh intarw3bz, it means "Oh My God!" Internet lore says that "zomg" comes from someone trying to type "OMG", but missing the Shift key with their left pinky and hitting "z" instead. Hence, "zomg". If you are nerdy enough for netspeak to creep into your spoken vocabulary, it is pronounced "zōmĭgŏd".
- "What's with the '!!!!1!!!1!one!!!'?" Another net joke stemming from a missed shift key. If someone was really carried away when trying to put a string of exclamation points after something, say in an internet argument, their finger might bounce off of the shift key for a keystroke or two, causing a numeral "1" to be inserted in the string of punctuation. The spelling out of "one" in the middle of the string is intended to indicate extreme hyperbole.
Not too bombastic, surprisingly funny, and worth the price of admission for the unexpected zombie scene alone.
(The reviews gathered here are priceless:
Parents need to know that this independent comedy from one of the directors of Airplane! is designed to articulate politically conservative ideas...Yeah. Bundle the little tykes off to see something wholesome, like Saw XLVII, instead. This is me, rolling my eyes.)
I'd say that there are neighborhoods in every city where one does not go, but that wouldn't be entirely correct. I have lived in some of those neighborhoods in Atlanta; people obviously go there. It would be more accurate to state that there are neighborhoods where one does not want to be lost, an outsider, out of place, uncertain. To do those things in those neighborhoods, especially at oh-dark-thirty in the A.M. marks one, as certainly as if there were a neon sign over one's head, as a resource, a victim, a prey animal for the predators that glide through the city's nighttime reefs.
Kirstin did that, and the result was depressingly predictable.
What is fascinating is the comment thread at Xavier's, where some have stopped in to express their belief that Kirsten was somehow targetted by the CIA or some nefarious member of Blackwater hit squads that populate the imaginations of folks who have forgotten to double-layer their Reynold's Wrap yarmulkes.
Let me get this straight; an unarmed, lost, young out-of-town woman gets killed in one of the most dangerous neighborhoods of a dangerous city, and some folks want to say it was Blackwater or the CIA?
Folks, when you hear hoofbeats rounding the last turn at Preakness, do you look for zebras?
Thursday, October 09, 2008
Here in sunny Marion County, where the county clerk is about to be investigated for voter fraud, we have 105% of our eligible voters all registered to vote!
From the legacy media on down to your block captain, the fix is in on this one, kids. With McCain apparently trying about as hard to win as the 1919 White Sox, I'm starting to get a'feared that I know who my next President is going to be.
By a rock.
From outer space.
A True Believer can contextualize any utterance, no matter how innocuous, in terms of their particular worldview. What sounds to you and I like normal conversation is, for them, a complex structure of code words and shibboleths. Some people live in such exciting worlds.
"By making a dismissive, condescending remark like this, McCain was tapping into a current of superiority among white voters. It was an attempt to 'otherize' Obama and tap into the implicit bias that so many of us hold," Wiley said.
(H/T to tgirsch at Unc's.)
Bore obstruction? Nope, else it would have detonated on the first shot. Squib? Apparently not; by all accounts the first shot sounded and felt normal. Probably just a fluke bad gun. It happens. Remington should buy him a new one and send him a nice letter and some ammo, and they'll probably have a happy customer.
An interesting internet phenomenon is to be found in the comments at the YouTube video. Just like on the gun boards, note all the people who come out and froth "I has a Remminton770 in .300 ought 6 and I shot 30000 shots through it and aint nevr nothign happend your a lire!"
Relax, Sparky, the guy wasn't saying anything about your gun. I'm sure yours is the bestest gun in the world.
Power to the people!
Wednesday, October 08, 2008
(Incidentally, driving past billiard-table-flat, harvested fields to get to Wildcat Valley last weekend triggered this Appalachian gal's agoraphobia something fierce...
"OMG! Where's the horizon?"
"Over there somewhere."
"That's not a horizon! The earth just drops away! A horizon is something like a tree line or a hill or a building!")
Meanwhile, Lead and Gold has a link up to a fascinating .pdf transcript from Ira Glass's This American Life, which is often the only thing worth listening to on NPR other than Click and Clack, the Tappet Brothers. It is a very clearly detailed flowchart of how dumb home loans in Cali wound up wrecking banks in Europe.
This one took a direct flak hit over Köln, Germany that blew the nose off the plane and killed the bombardier. The pilot brought it safely back some 400 miles to its base in England, fighting what must have been a heck of a built-in headwind the whole way.
Look, I think the culture is a little over-obsessed with thin. After I reached a certain age, and my metabolism would no longer allow me to down a whole pizza with impunity while the needle on the scale stayed motionless, I decided that I'd much rather give up Size 6 than give up steak and beer. But there comes a point where it's unhealthy, you know? And that point is somewhere long before you're immobile in bed and paramedics have to take a wall out of the house to load you into a pickup truck.
The worst part about the story is that he'd been bedridden for four months. That meant that for four months he had someone bringing him the Twinkies and Coca Cola; an unindicted co-conspirator, if you will.
Tuesday, October 07, 2008
(I'm feeling guilty because I totally spaced linking Breda's celebratory post last Wed. I can't forget to listen to the Gun Nuts: TNG show tonight, either. Only an hour away... )
"zomg teh barb wire points inwards!!!!1!1!!one!"
(PS: If you really believe that the Amtrak facility in Beech Grove is a "FEMA Extermination Camp", you are obviously barely multicelled and dumber than jello. Grownups are chatting here, so please don't drool in the comments section.)
EDIT II: And can anyone guess why barbed wire points inward almost everywhere these days, including the Amtrak facility? Class? That's right. Lawyers. Because when Seth & Jared go to climb the fence so they can spray paint "Jared luvs Tifani 4evar" on the dining car, and the barbed wire is pointing out, if they try to climb over, they fall, break something, and then Mommy and Daddy sue the crap out of Amtrak, the fence maker, and whoever poured the concrete for the sidewalk. Whereas if it points inwards, they usually just give it up for a bad idea and climb back down, or get their Abercrombie & Fitch baggy drawers all snarled up in the barbed wire until the mall ninjas come out in the golf cart to help them down and call the police.
As anyone who's ever driven past a real jail or prison or maximum security site knows, nobody uses three strands of barbed wire if they're serious about keeping people out anyway. They use razor wire a la concertina.
The uprising of the unarmed hippie ignorami! It's awesome. Really!
How do people this dumb stay alive? You'd think they'd be dropping dead left and right from driving off cliffs while text-messaging or forgetting to breathe while setting their entertainment centers to TiVo Dancing With The Stars.
(And to the guys way off to my right who are going on about the 1st BCT's current rotation, you are aware that it is a BRIGADE Combat Team, right? How many divisions did the Army use in Baghdad? And they're going to do Operation Garden Plot with one BCT? Pass the bong, dude, 'cause I want some of that.)
(H/T to Unc.)
Unfortunately, she did not punch the reporter or anything.
Panicked people, however, tend to vote for Hopeychangey.
"This is a perfect American family behind me that has absolutely been destroyed, apparently because of a man who just got stuck in a rabbit hole, if you will, of absolute despair, somehow working his way into believing this to be an acceptable exit."The nation's Chief Executive was seen on the security cameras of the gated community fleeing the man's dwelling with a sack over his shoulder that was believed to contain Rajaram's self-esteem. Accompanying him was his evil sidekick Dick Cheney, with an unidentified bundle that could have been Karthik's employment opportunities.
This is why you should vote for Lord Obama this November, so that nothing bad like this will ever happen again.
Thus saith CNN.
For some reason, not one of the hijackers ended up decorating a yardarm.
Monday, October 06, 2008
In other, tangentially-related, news, given the volume I've been shooting recently, it's time and past time to get the reloading press set up at home. Copper, tin, and lead are getting too expensive to purchase in their pre-assembled form.
And all the conservatives out there in voterland absolutely hated the bailout bill because it was socialist and meddled in the marketplace and propped up businesses that should have become fodder for the scavengers.
So, if Pinko Liberal America didn't like it, and NASCAR-'n'-Jesus America didn't like it, who did like it? (I mean, other than a bunch of scoundrels and scalawags in Washington who are apparently not even pretending to represent the will of their constituents anymore...)
Recall Them All.
No handgun bullet we were using (not even IMI/Samson .50AE JHP from the notorious Deagle) would damage the bottom of the barrel after traversing more than three feet of H2O. A 240gr HydraShok fired from a 16" Marlin .44 Magnum carbine, on the other hand, displaced a good deal of water some fifteen feet vertically, tipped the barrel over from the resultant sloshing, and did, in fact, nick the bottom after shedding its jacket and the "petals" of lead from the hollowpoint cavity.
The "blossomed" hollowpoints were very popular conversation pieces on the counter at the store, and tended to grow legs and wander off, especially the highly photogenic (and very pointy) Winchester "Black Talons". To my knowledge, however, none wound up being used in such a clever and artistic fashion.
(Via Greg via Unc.)
But wait... Is that list accurate? Because Atlanta's at, like, number thirty-three, and I've lived both places; you could lose Indy in Metro Atlanta... Ah, that's right: Metro Atlanta. Atlanta is a donut city; the city itself is actually fairly small, geographically, and consists mostly of business districts interspersed with single-family dwellings, and is surrounded by vast, uncounted miles of paved suburban hell, teeming with office buildings, industrial parks, malls, and commuters. The Atlanta-Marietta-Sandy Springs Metro Area recently passed Boston, according to the U.S. Census Bureau. In Indy, comparatively speaking, you're not that far outside I-465 before the cornfields start. Which is kinda nice, actually. I live in a fairly urban and cosmopolitan neighborhood, and if I head west on 56th street, I'm to an outdoor pistol range in a city park in less than 30 minutes, and a mile or so past that, I see my first grain elevators.
This article goes into the plight of homeless families in the Greater Boston S.S.R., but remains sketchy on the definition of "family", leaving one to envision whole Brady Bunches of little bindlestiffs clogging the freeway underpasses and Motel Sixes of the Bay State.
Sunday, October 05, 2008
Intensive investigation into the causes of the accident revealed that the main culprit was that a balloon full of hydrogen and diesel fuel had been launched into the air, and what followed was pretty much the inevitable result.
I'm getting a barrel for my Encore chambered in .405 Winchester so I can have lion-hunting fantasies. Not, of course, that I will ever have the money or leisure time to go on safari for the King of the Beasts, but one can daydream. Or maybe organize a cheap substitute here in town...
"Dear Diary: Day three of the safari. After a quick breakfast of Tabasco Slim Jims and Diet Mountain Dew, my trusty native guide, Fred, has maneuvered me into an excellent position for the culmination of my trip, the confrontation with Simba. Careful not to spook the skittish herds of preschoolers, which would alert the lion to my presence, I ease around the concession stand. The cloying stench of cotton candy fills my nostrils..."
Like I said, one can daydream... :)
A second attempt at powder-burning will be made today at a different location. My trigger finger is itchy, and I want to shoot some steel.
Saturday, October 04, 2008
How come people who are so pleased to think that they might have seen another country "like a native" are so willing, or even proud, to spend their whole lives as a tourist in their own?
Friday, October 03, 2008
Mundane shooters such as myself (and, hopefully, RobertaX) will be punching paper at Eagle Creek in the AM, in preparation for next month's bowling pin match.
I'll be shooting my 2" Model 64 and my old Kit Gun to work on my DA revolver skillz, and I'll put fifty or so rounds through my Radom because... well, because I can.
Here's a question: Where in the Constitution does it specify how you get to vote for the President?
If you answered "It doesn't." then, Hooray! Brownie points for you!
That's right, nowhere in the Constitution is there any mention of a popular vote for the office of the President. It does specify that the several States send electors, but there is no mention of primaries or parties or popular elections or any of the folderol we have come to take for granted as part of the electoral process. This election cycle, New York could decide to sell lottery tickets to determine who their electors will be, and Mississippi could draw names from a hat and Idaho could send the cousins of the Mayor of B.F.E., and it would be perfectly Constitutional.
We live in a Republic made up of the several States. You are a citizen of the State in which you reside. The States vote for the President of the Union. That they ask your opinion as to who it should be is a bonus, not a bylaw.
California has been suffering from a flight of productive citizens for years now as they tried to escape high prices, confiscatory taxes, and regulations that make the adjective "Byzantine" look completely inadequate. Unfortunately, rather than making them change currencies at the state border, we allowed them to spend their California Monopoly money and candy bar wrappers in the rest of the country as though it were real cash.
And make no mistake, Monopoly money is what it is. California has experienced Wiemar-like inflation, where grocery store cashiers make $12.50/hr, rookie police officers pull down $70k/yr, and the most depressing little 2br/1ba crackerbox costs a cool quarter mil. No wonder that they have a bizarre effect on local housing prices when they're allowed to show up in Des Moines and spend it as though it were real dollars.
Now that the goose that laid the golden eggs has flown the state to escape being eaten, the Cali .gov still has to pass out all the gold houses and rocket cars that it promised voters, and there just aren't the taxes to do it. What to do?
It's obvious! Beg Uncle Sucker for the money! If it works for the Masters of the Universe on Wall Street, it should work for the Governator, too. Just ask for Federal tax dollars from working mothers in Dubuque and Peoria, and that should prop up the decaying edifice of crazy social programs and no-connection-to-reality public servant salaries that are the rule on the Left Coast these days.
The downside, of course, is that it was a Nazi ballistic missile.
They're generally harmless (and generally given a wide berth, as though an active fantasy life and lack of exercise might be contagious) but apparently there is a malevolent variety of the species:
I know we don't do things this way in this country, but if we could make an exception, I think it would be poetic justice if we could arrange for some guys from "Breckenridge" in overcoats and dark glasses and humorless expressions to carry out the capital punishment sentence. With lead pipes, please.
The indictment said Jacques told J1 about a child-sex club called Breckenridge -- a nonexistent group that Jacques allegedly made up to coerce her into sex for years and to get her to help with Brooke's abduction.
Beginning in 2003, Jacques "intimidated, deceived and persuaded a nine-year-old girl (J1) into believing that a powerful organization named 'Breckenridge' would harm or kill her and her family if she did not engage in sex acts with" him, U.S. Attorney Thomas Anderson said in news release.
It said he used fake e-mail, text and other messages to convince J1 that she was hearing from Breckenridge operatives and "that on occasion, Breckenridge 'terminated' girls. J1 was informed that, while she would not be required to participate in such a termination, she might be required to assist in related planning."