Saturday, April 18, 2015

1 Real Fact

I beseech the gods of cinema...

...please don't screw this up. Please.
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Supervillains!

China is close to completing the construction of an airstrip on a tiny outcrop in the South China Sea, heightening its ability to project power regionally from the disputed waters and further raising the stakes in an increasingly tense showdown between Beijing, its neighbors, and the United States.
In the movies, these things are always guarded by sharks with frickin' laser beams.

I wonder if the PLA's base stores will include a standard issue white Persian cat for the base commander to pet in a huge revolving chair in his office? Because that would be boss.


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Friday, April 17, 2015

When is a Bubba not a Bubba?

Everybody knows Bubba the gun butcher, but what separates "Bubba-izing" from actual "sporterizing"? There's plenty of WECSOG* gun work that doesn't turn out as disastrous-looking as the stipple job on my FNS-9. Take this Glock 19, for example...

*Wile E. Coyote School Of Gunsmithing

Thursday, April 16, 2015

Alert the Ministry of Irony...

Tentacle Pr0n



"Question: Who has two eyes, can take eight selfies at once, and is an absolute sucker for underwater photography?"

This is awkward.

So, yeah, this "totally spontaneous roadtrip thing" that Hillary did... Wow.

Watching Hillary trying to act like an Everyday Joe is painfully awkward. So many metaphors suggest themselves. It's painfully obvious that the Venusian Brain Slug doesn't quite know how to operate its Human 'Bot Suit all natural-like yet...

And the thing is, her handlers are right there. They see this, and they let her keep doing it to herself! Nobody's pulling her aside and saying "You know, maybe this wasn't such a good idea," and hustling her back to her natural habitat inside the beltway. It's like seeing the profoundly challenged kid sitting there playing with themselves in church and their parents are right there smiling and nobody's saying anything because AWK-ward!

If her people are letting this happen, is it because they're so deep inside the bubble themselves that they don't notice anything wrong, or is it something more sinister?

"...and that's how far from the Gulf of Tonkin, now?"

Regarding China's ongoing friskiness in the South China Sea, the Filipinos are balking, and calling on treaty obligations with Uncle Sam to back their play:
""We are, at this point, seeking additional support from the United States in terms of being able to take a stronger position in defending our position, which is to uphold the rule of law," Albert del Rosario, Manila's foreign minister, told journalists."
China, of course, says they aren't being greedy or belligerent, it's just that all that stuff is theirs and everybody else should just butt out and mind their own business if they know what's good for them.

I'm reminded of the farmer who wasn't greedy; he just wanted his land and the land that adjoined his land.

Wednesday, April 15, 2015

Meanwhile, on Planet Higher Education...

From an editorial in the Brown University Daily Herald:
Just as it would be disconcerting to find copies of “Mein Kampf” strewn amongst the National Geographic magazines in a dentist’s office, so it is strange to find a controversial war movie playing at a casual party. Though there may be an acceptable time and place to read “Mein Kampf,” it’s quite clear that a waiting room is not. Likewise, a fun social function is not the place to watch “American Sniper.”
Got that? American Sniper is like Mein Kampf*... I guess To Hell and Back was like The Turner Diaries and Gary Cooper's Sergeant York was like The Protocols of the Elders of Zion?


*How come a high school grad like me knows that book and movie titles get italics and not quotation marks, but they apparently don't teach this to the student newspaper staff at an Ivy League school with an annual tuition bigger than my parents' first mortgage?
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Nuh-uh!

Continuing Education

When I bought my first Glock, a Model 23, back in the mists of 1994, it was a very big deal that it Had No Manual Safety. Never mind that the Ruger KP-91DAO that I traded in on it had no manual safety, either, somehow the Glock was different.

I was very cautious in handling it, treating it as gingerly as one would a live and slightly annoyed rattlesnake for the first couple weeks, and I picked up a gun-handling tic I have to this day: Unless I was actually pulling the trigger, I'd hold my trigger finger canted out away from the gun at about a 45° angle, as though it were afraid to get too near the loud lever.

In a general sense, this is a good thing, as we don't want the trigger finger up inside the trigger guard when it shouldn't be. However it's not really that ideal because there's no feedback to let my finger know it's in the right spot, since it's just hovering in air, and there's also nothing to get in the way of it straying toward the trigger should my fist close in a spasm.

The Good Samaritan that busted a cap in a carjacker down in Smyrna, Georgia showed us how it was done the other day:
Look at that trigger finger! See how the tip of it is pressed into the ejection port of the pistol? That is a textbook hard register. Homie is doing just like he did in batting practice on Game Day, which is just outstanding.

I am working on retraining my trigger finger out of its dumb habit and into a hard register now. Never too late to learn, I reckon.
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Monday, April 13, 2015

Wrapup...

My lawyers plead and they wheedle
Say I shouldn't get the needle
And it really wasn't all my fault
Say I'm a very nice guy
And I shouldn't have to fry
'Cause my brother planned the whole assault

If I'm gonna be candid
I know they caught me red-handed
And my case is looking pretty boned
It's a small consolation
And no cause for celebration
To've made the cover of the Rolling Stone...
(I guess the song needed a third verse.)
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Continuing story...

So, yesterday, nursing an awful headache and recovering from whatever virus had been making me miserable, I got some reading done. Because I know a guy, I got my hands on the soon-to-be-released Angles of Attack, the third book in Marko's Frontlines series.

I read the first nine pages before bed the other night. I read the next three-hundred and twenty-nine pages in one lick on the sofa yesterday. As with the previous two books in the series, Marko has yet again written a novel whose biggest flaw is that the covers are too close together; I'm going to need to reread it to tide myself over until book four drops.

The plot steps along smartly, all your favorite supporting characters (along with some new faces) make appearances, and there are explosions a-go-go, from ground combat with giant aliens to some pretty cool space battle scenes. Oh, and an earlier side-plot gets fleshed out and steps front and center.

Get to typin', Mr. Hugo Nominee! Make with the words, already. *clangs empty tin bowl against cage bars*

Thirtywhat-th and What?

It's become a running joke. I'll wake up in the morning to hear the televisor informing me that there's been a shooting in My Fair City and I'll ask aloud "At Thirtywhat-th and What?"

30th and Sherman, last night, it seems.

It's shaping up to be a pretty sporty year in the Circle City.

Sunday, April 12, 2015

Apologies for the lack of content.

Whatever it was, it had me sore and achy all over, and running a low-grade fever. I spent yesterday on the couch, napping and finishing up Dirty Wars: The World Is a Battlefield.

Apparently, six hours of dozing followed by a good night's sleep was what the doctor ordered, because other than a bit of a residual headache, I'm feeling a bunch better today.