You know your day's off to a good start when it begins with having to stroll through a hotel lobby with your Louis Vuitton plastic Kroger bag of girlie toiletries that you left in the trunk of your car last night.
Blackhawk bus arrives for boarding in 70 minutes; gotta jet, y'all. More later.
Friday, August 22, 2008
Good luck with that...
"Hopefully this thorough report puts to rest the various 9/11 conspiracy theories, which dishonor the men and women who lost their lives on that terrible day," said Silverstein spokeswoman Dara McQuillen.Y'know, if we live in a country full of engineers, it might. Unfortunately, we live in a country full of ignorant louts who think Martians from Roswell, NM shot JFK from the grassy knoll and carted his body off to Area 51. This is a country where real live grownups actually attended a bigfoot press conference, and then went home to watch programs about the healing power of Egyptian crystals on the goddam Discovery Channel. We are not a land of rational people. Look who won our presidential primaries, for Shiva's sake!
At the end of the quest, victory!
So after an 11 hour drive (verdammt road construction! I gotta say that Sen. Byrd is really bringing the bacon home to WV...) I spent 30 minutes looking around for the No-Tell Motel here in Norfolk. I finally found it at about 10:15. I asked for a single, and was informed "Have no single! Only Suite! One million dollars!" My eyebrows must have shot up, because I was informed "May-Tell Motel next door have smoking rooms! They only charge nine hundred thousand!"
So I went next door to the May-Tell Motel. No smoking rooms available. Also, the rooms were nine hundred and fifty thousand dollars. I explained that I only wanted one room and for one night, not a lease on the whole floor for a month. The clerk didn't get the joke.
So I took my room and decided to go downstairs to the hotel bar for a beer before beddy-bye, since my wakeup call was set for 0mygod30 in the AM. Guess who all was in my hotel bar? The whole gunblogger crew, that's who. And I'm so alert, I strolled right past them at first...
And now to bed. 0mygod30 comes awful early in these parts.
So I went next door to the May-Tell Motel. No smoking rooms available. Also, the rooms were nine hundred and fifty thousand dollars. I explained that I only wanted one room and for one night, not a lease on the whole floor for a month. The clerk didn't get the joke.
So I took my room and decided to go downstairs to the hotel bar for a beer before beddy-bye, since my wakeup call was set for 0mygod30 in the AM. Guess who all was in my hotel bar? The whole gunblogger crew, that's who. And I'm so alert, I strolled right past them at first...
And now to bed. 0mygod30 comes awful early in these parts.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Overheard on the way out the Door:
RX: "Would you like to take a cinnamon roll?"
Me: "No, that's not my traditional roadtrip food. My traditional roadtrip food is..."
RX: "I know. Slim Jims."
Me: "Tabasco-flavored Slim Jims."
RX: "Ugh. I wouldn't use that for a suppository."
Me: "Yikes! Neither would I!"
Me: "No, that's not my traditional roadtrip food. My traditional roadtrip food is..."
RX: "I know. Slim Jims."
Me: "Tabasco-flavored Slim Jims."
RX: "Ugh. I wouldn't use that for a suppository."
Me: "Yikes! Neither would I!"
Off to see the wizard.
I am not meant to be this active this early...
Let's see if I'm remembering everything:
I've been asking people with more gun school experience than I for pointers and helpful hints, and the answers have ranged from "Remember: Front sight, press. And wear sunscreen." to "Don't (foul) up." I will try and keep all that in mind. Especially the part about not (foul)ing up.
Let's see if I'm remembering everything:
- Eyes & ears? Check.
- Assorted Very Tactical tee shirts? Check.
- Laptop? Check.
- Backup laptop in case the first one pukes? Check.
- iPod? Check.
- Bandaids? Dammit, I've got to stop at the store.
I've been asking people with more gun school experience than I for pointers and helpful hints, and the answers have ranged from "Remember: Front sight, press. And wear sunscreen." to "Don't (foul) up." I will try and keep all that in mind. Especially the part about not (foul)ing up.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Bespoke.
There's just something about a pistol that was built just for you...
As my bro Marko (who is even geekier than I, if such a thing can be imagined) puts it: "It's like having a Jedi light saber."
As my bro Marko (who is even geekier than I, if such a thing can be imagined) puts it: "It's like having a Jedi light saber."
Quote of the Day:
"But hey, I'm learning something new every day. All these years I falsely believed that purpose of the law is to keep order. Wrong! Its actual purpose is to make corporeal every paranoia that crouches in the dark corners of the human pysche." -TJH, in comments here.
Lessons learned...
1) Knowing that RobertaX is not as keen on teh spicy as am I, I marinated two of the chops in liquid Jerk JuJu all afternoon before cooking. Next time, I'm going after those things with a fork like Jack the Ripper before I marinate them so that they soak up more JuJu.
2) Ah. So that's why my roomie has all those bitty glass bowls. Halfway through the prep process, I thought "Maybe if I kept my ingredients in all these little pudding bowls she has..." As Willie said to Joe, "I'll be damned, did you know this can opener fits on the end of a rifle?"
2) Ah. So that's why my roomie has all those bitty glass bowls. Halfway through the prep process, I thought "Maybe if I kept my ingredients in all these little pudding bowls she has..." As Willie said to Joe, "I'll be damned, did you know this can opener fits on the end of a rifle?"
Truth is dumber than fiction.
Once upon a time, I had a neighbor who bought a Prius. "Wow!" we all exclaimed, "that thing sure is quiet!" We thought that this was peachy, as it helped preserve the tranquil and bucolic nature of our surroundings.
Obviously we'd never make it as politicians in California, a job that requires superhuman talent for picking fly poop out of pepper and finding the gray cloud around any silver lining.
The professional hand-wringers and worrywarts in Sacramento heard, or rather didn't hear, the same thing we did and immediately went looking for a downside. Preferably one that required busybody legislation to fix it.
They have apparently decided that these very quiet cars are a hazard to blind people and inattentive morons that stray into the street. Did they do the sensible thing and conclude that this was a splendid way to thin the herd? (Assuming that being nudged by a nerfwagen Prius blistering along at a furlong per fortnight has any herd-thinning properties...) Heck, no! There oughtta be a law to protect inattentive morons and blind people who meander into the street from the ravages of slow-moving ecoweenies in their chi-chi granolamobiles!
So let it be written, so let it be done.
Obviously we'd never make it as politicians in California, a job that requires superhuman talent for picking fly poop out of pepper and finding the gray cloud around any silver lining.
The professional hand-wringers and worrywarts in Sacramento heard, or rather didn't hear, the same thing we did and immediately went looking for a downside. Preferably one that required busybody legislation to fix it.
They have apparently decided that these very quiet cars are a hazard to blind people and inattentive morons that stray into the street. Did they do the sensible thing and conclude that this was a splendid way to thin the herd? (Assuming that being nudged by a nerfwagen Prius blistering along at a furlong per fortnight has any herd-thinning properties...) Heck, no! There oughtta be a law to protect inattentive morons and blind people who meander into the street from the ravages of slow-moving ecoweenies in their chi-chi granolamobiles!
So let it be written, so let it be done.
Today In History: ...and sheep were nervous.
Once upon a time we had armies with cool names and generals with even cooler handles.
On this day in 1794, General "Mad Anthony" Wayne led the Legion of the United States to victory at the Battle of Fallen Timbers, routing a confederation of tribes that had been supplied (and perhaps goaded) by meddling Brits out of Fort Miami.
Or at least that's the way I heard it as a child.
Today's kids probably hear that evil imperialist troops were sent by Halliburton to disrupt the peaceful Summer Granola Festival of the innocent autochthones.
On this day in 1794, General "Mad Anthony" Wayne led the Legion of the United States to victory at the Battle of Fallen Timbers, routing a confederation of tribes that had been supplied (and perhaps goaded) by meddling Brits out of Fort Miami.
Or at least that's the way I heard it as a child.
Today's kids probably hear that evil imperialist troops were sent by Halliburton to disrupt the peaceful Summer Granola Festival of the innocent autochthones.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Tamara's Big Kitchen Adventure...
Today we are trying Jamaican Jerk Pork Chops.
I'm going in. Wish me luck.
UPDATE: Day-umn! The house smells so good!
I'm going in. Wish me luck.
UPDATE: Day-umn! The house smells so good!
Overheard in the Hallway:
Me: "Understand that where I grew up, we sent Larry McDonald, Newt Gingrich, Bob Barr, and John Linder to Congress."
RX: "Didn't you say that that first guy was a Democrat?"
Me: "Yeah, but he was also president of the John Birch Society."
RX: "You know that, to Hoosier ears, 'President of the John Birch Society' and 'Democrat' sounds oxymoronic."
Me: "See, Abraham Lincoln was a Republican, and... well... it's complicated, okay?"
RX: "Didn't you say that that first guy was a Democrat?"
Me: "Yeah, but he was also president of the John Birch Society."
RX: "You know that, to Hoosier ears, 'President of the John Birch Society' and 'Democrat' sounds oxymoronic."
Me: "See, Abraham Lincoln was a Republican, and... well... it's complicated, okay?"
Today In History: Old Ironsides.
On this date in 1812, one of the touchstone episodes in the history of the U.S. Navy occurred.
A British naval squadron had been pursuing the U.S. frigate Constitution. On August 19, one of their number, HMS Guerrierre, had the misfortune of catching her.
The battlecruisers of their day, the U.S. 44-gun frigates were unusually heavy for their class; anything they couldn't out-shoot, they could outrun. Anything they couldn't outrun...
Constitution shot Guerrierre to ribbons, dismasting her in a short, sharp fight, and earning her nickname of "Old Ironsides" as the British broadsides proved ineffective against her thick timbers of Georgia live oak. The victorious ship became something of a mascot to the U.S.N., so far did its exploits go to boost morale in the fledgling service.
USS Constitution is still on the Navy's rolls, and remains afloat in Boston.
A British naval squadron had been pursuing the U.S. frigate Constitution. On August 19, one of their number, HMS Guerrierre, had the misfortune of catching her.
The battlecruisers of their day, the U.S. 44-gun frigates were unusually heavy for their class; anything they couldn't out-shoot, they could outrun. Anything they couldn't outrun...
Constitution shot Guerrierre to ribbons, dismasting her in a short, sharp fight, and earning her nickname of "Old Ironsides" as the British broadsides proved ineffective against her thick timbers of Georgia live oak. The victorious ship became something of a mascot to the U.S.N., so far did its exploits go to boost morale in the fledgling service.
USS Constitution is still on the Navy's rolls, and remains afloat in Boston.
Overheard in the Office:
Here at Roseholme Cottage, we use a manual drip coffee maker to get things started in the Ay Em...
RX: "Hey, your coffee water's ready."
Me: "I know. I put extra water in the kettle so I could listen to it whistle for a while. It's such a cheery sound..."
I'm so very easily amused.
RX: "Hey, your coffee water's ready."
Me: "I know. I put extra water in the kettle so I could listen to it whistle for a while. It's such a cheery sound..."
I'm so very easily amused.
Monday, August 18, 2008
An unsentimental journey.
My pal Breda recently went out for her inaugural 1911 experience. Judging from the pictures, it looks like she rented your basic Colt 1991A1. Judging by the text, the target, and the big ol' grin, it looks like she had a great time. This is because she did it right: quality gun, name brand ammo, knowledgeable help, and a positive attitude.
True Confession: My early 1911 experiences were nowhere near as good...
It is often said that a little knowledge can be a dangerous thing. I regret to say that more than once I have fallen victim to having a little knowledge. Allow me to embarrass myself and set the Wayback Machine for almost eight years ago to the day...
Back in ’00, a guy made a post on The Firing Line about the reliability of the 1911-type pistol. I responded in high dudgeon with a list of the 1911-type pistols I’d owned and a litany of the woes I’d suffered while shooting them. On the surface, it read like a fairly knowledgeable post.
I was not a novice at the time. I’d been slinging guns across the glass for a living for, oh, seven years or so. I’d shot competitively, both smallbore rifle and action pistol. I’d dabbled at reloading. I’d owned probably a half-dozen pistols of the type that could loosely be termed 1911s. I was less than happy with the breed.
I cringe reading it now.
In the intervening eight years I have had what is almost a college edjumacation in firearms, with a minor in 1911s, and looking at that post is like looking at a high school yearbook; it was amazing how much I knew that wasn’t so.
Did you see where I referred to a “G.I. Springfield”? Yeah. It wasn’t. I mean, I knew it wasn’t military; but I thought the frame was made for a government contract. The “NM” in the serial number stands for “National Match”, right? (Hint: No.)
Everyplace I referred to “factory mags” or “G.I. mags”, I now realize that I meant “$5 gun show mags”. My “factory” Colt mags may have said “Colt” on them, but they didn’t have the horsie on them and had probably never been closer to Hartford than 500 miles. I knew a CMC or Wilson mag by looking at it, but everything else got automatically lumped into the "factory/GI" mag category in my mind. Why I expected a cheapo "USA" mag to work in a 1911 when I wouldn't let one within a hundred yards of my Glock remains one of life's great mysteries.
Being a savvy shooter, I had a “gunsmith” friend work on 1911s as soon as I bought them, without even shooting them first. I had him “ramp and throat” them. What he did was ruin them. I knew just enough about 1911s to trash a perfectly good gun.
Further, since they were all used when I bought them and I had no idea how to properly check one out, JMB himself only knows what kind of boogered-up shadetree smithing failures I was proudly carting home to mangle even more.
I was lucky in two respects in 2001. First, I started working at a shop with a gunsmith who really, really knew his stuff; Shannon Jennings taught me more about how 1911s work than I can properly credit. As an added bonus, working under the same roof as a guy with a known reputation let me see plenty of ruined guns when they were brought in for his ministrations. Seeing what is done wrong is as instructive in its way as seeing it done right.
Second, I bought a LNIB Springfield Professional, complete with the Wilson mags it shipped with from the factory. That let me see what a good 1911 was supposed to be like.
Needless to say, my views changed a bit. I’ve owned at least eighteen different 1911 pattern pistols since then (not counting the Radom or Double Beagle in the photo below)…
Other than the Detonics Combat Master and the Colt GI/ParaOrd hybrid, both of which were absolute basket cases that I purchase with open eyes, hoping to resurrect them, I never had a real problem with any of the lot.
Of course, this time around, I knew what I was looking at when I bought a used one. Also, this time around, I resisted the temptation to show how savvy I was by having them “ramped and throated”. You know, for reliability.
If I learn as much in the next eight years as I did in the last, I'll really be dangerous...
True Confession: My early 1911 experiences were nowhere near as good...
It is often said that a little knowledge can be a dangerous thing. I regret to say that more than once I have fallen victim to having a little knowledge. Allow me to embarrass myself and set the Wayback Machine for almost eight years ago to the day...
Back in ’00, a guy made a post on The Firing Line about the reliability of the 1911-type pistol. I responded in high dudgeon with a list of the 1911-type pistols I’d owned and a litany of the woes I’d suffered while shooting them. On the surface, it read like a fairly knowledgeable post.
I was not a novice at the time. I’d been slinging guns across the glass for a living for, oh, seven years or so. I’d shot competitively, both smallbore rifle and action pistol. I’d dabbled at reloading. I’d owned probably a half-dozen pistols of the type that could loosely be termed 1911s. I was less than happy with the breed.
I cringe reading it now.
In the intervening eight years I have had what is almost a college edjumacation in firearms, with a minor in 1911s, and looking at that post is like looking at a high school yearbook; it was amazing how much I knew that wasn’t so.
Did you see where I referred to a “G.I. Springfield”? Yeah. It wasn’t. I mean, I knew it wasn’t military; but I thought the frame was made for a government contract. The “NM” in the serial number stands for “National Match”, right? (Hint: No.)
Everyplace I referred to “factory mags” or “G.I. mags”, I now realize that I meant “$5 gun show mags”. My “factory” Colt mags may have said “Colt” on them, but they didn’t have the horsie on them and had probably never been closer to Hartford than 500 miles. I knew a CMC or Wilson mag by looking at it, but everything else got automatically lumped into the "factory/GI" mag category in my mind. Why I expected a cheapo "USA" mag to work in a 1911 when I wouldn't let one within a hundred yards of my Glock remains one of life's great mysteries.
Being a savvy shooter, I had a “gunsmith” friend work on 1911s as soon as I bought them, without even shooting them first. I had him “ramp and throat” them. What he did was ruin them. I knew just enough about 1911s to trash a perfectly good gun.
Further, since they were all used when I bought them and I had no idea how to properly check one out, JMB himself only knows what kind of boogered-up shadetree smithing failures I was proudly carting home to mangle even more.
I was lucky in two respects in 2001. First, I started working at a shop with a gunsmith who really, really knew his stuff; Shannon Jennings taught me more about how 1911s work than I can properly credit. As an added bonus, working under the same roof as a guy with a known reputation let me see plenty of ruined guns when they were brought in for his ministrations. Seeing what is done wrong is as instructive in its way as seeing it done right.
Second, I bought a LNIB Springfield Professional, complete with the Wilson mags it shipped with from the factory. That let me see what a good 1911 was supposed to be like.
Needless to say, my views changed a bit. I’ve owned at least eighteen different 1911 pattern pistols since then (not counting the Radom or Double Beagle in the photo below)…
Other than the Detonics Combat Master and the Colt GI/ParaOrd hybrid, both of which were absolute basket cases that I purchase with open eyes, hoping to resurrect them, I never had a real problem with any of the lot.
Of course, this time around, I knew what I was looking at when I bought a used one. Also, this time around, I resisted the temptation to show how savvy I was by having them “ramped and throated”. You know, for reliability.
If I learn as much in the next eight years as I did in the last, I'll really be dangerous...
Today in History: A Mickey Mouse discovery.
On this day in 1868, French scientist Pierre Janssen used spectroscopy to discover a new element in the solar corona.
The element was helium. Unfortunately, it was on the sun and Janssen was on Earth, and so it would be many more years before anyone was actually able to use his discovery to advertise tires at sporting events or do a good Mickey Mouse impression.
The element was helium. Unfortunately, it was on the sun and Janssen was on Earth, and so it would be many more years before anyone was actually able to use his discovery to advertise tires at sporting events or do a good Mickey Mouse impression.
Molony: Australian for "misogyny".
The mayor of a two-mule town in the Outback announces "Come to Mount Isa, where even ugly Sheilas can get laid!", and then appears baffled at the negative feedback.
Sometimes the jokes write themselves...
Sometimes the jokes write themselves...
Gratuitous Gun Pr0n #47: Czech this out.
Yeah, there's my little WWII-vintage Dušek Duo. It's a handy, well-made little Colt/Browning Vest Pocket .25 knockoff; mine found its way home as a war trophy and mostly sat quietly rusting in a sock drawer for the better part of a half century before coming into my possession. If you haven't shot one of John Moses Browning's (pbuh) pocket pistols or one of their close copies, you're missing out on how bitty pistols should work. With a Kel-Tec P-32 or one of the DA/SA Beretta or Taurus minis, I'm very happy to be getting A-zone hits at seven yards; with the Duo, I was able to clang a 6" gong at 15 yards as fast as I could pull the trigger. The short trigger and natural grip angle help it shoot like a much bigger gun.
It shoots nicely and is mechanically quite sound, but the cancer it has had won't be cured with anything short of a blast cabinet and a bluing tank; even maintaining stasis requires weekly scouring and oiling, so it's due for a prettifying. I'm debating the finish I should use, but I'm leaning towards emailing Galt's Guns and looking into getting it park'ed. It would seem weird to Cerakote the old relic...
Books: War stories.
I'd seen the movie A Midnight Clear and enjoyed it, so when I saw the novel upon which the movie was based on the "Experienced Books" shelf at Northside News, I happily gambled a dollar.
I have not been disappointed. It's a great read thus far, with the added bonus that it's been probably a dozen years since I saw the movie so that, while I may remember broad plot outlines ("She dies in the end,") the story is still fresh for me. Unless it crashes and burns badly in the last fifty pages, I have to recommend it as a good first-person novel of WWII. If you can imagine the travelogue portions and historical overviews excised from William Manchester's Goodbye, Darkness, leaving only the first-person narrative, you'll have a good idea of the tone and texture.
(PS: If I haven't extolled the virtues of the "Experienced Books" rack at Northside News, let me do so here. It's nothing but classics and a few selected best-sellers, all $1/each. In the last couple of months I've snagged Kim, Lord of the Flies, The Gulag Archipelago, Heart of Darkness and The Secret Sharer, and McGuffey's Sixth Eclectic Reader, as well as Still Life With Woodpecker, Hannibal, A Midnight Clear, Force 10 From Navarone, The Hunt for Red October, and The Bear and the Dragon. As far as used book racks go, it's like a canned hunt or fishing in a stocked pond with dynamite.)
(PPS: Hey, Marko, you should read A Midnight Clear. It's mostly in first-person, present-tense.)
I have not been disappointed. It's a great read thus far, with the added bonus that it's been probably a dozen years since I saw the movie so that, while I may remember broad plot outlines ("She dies in the end,") the story is still fresh for me. Unless it crashes and burns badly in the last fifty pages, I have to recommend it as a good first-person novel of WWII. If you can imagine the travelogue portions and historical overviews excised from William Manchester's Goodbye, Darkness, leaving only the first-person narrative, you'll have a good idea of the tone and texture.
(PS: If I haven't extolled the virtues of the "Experienced Books" rack at Northside News, let me do so here. It's nothing but classics and a few selected best-sellers, all $1/each. In the last couple of months I've snagged Kim, Lord of the Flies, The Gulag Archipelago, Heart of Darkness and The Secret Sharer, and McGuffey's Sixth Eclectic Reader, as well as Still Life With Woodpecker, Hannibal, A Midnight Clear, Force 10 From Navarone, The Hunt for Red October, and The Bear and the Dragon. As far as used book racks go, it's like a canned hunt or fishing in a stocked pond with dynamite.)
(PPS: Hey, Marko, you should read A Midnight Clear. It's mostly in first-person, present-tense.)
Blog Meet stuff.
It was a grand time, as usual. Conversation was varied and esoteric, and I got to trot out my tale of getting my wisdom teeth extracted by Doogie Howser. Old Grouch, Shermlock Shomes, and RobertaX were outdoing each other in the recollection of obscure SF short stories. It was an amazingly literate and educated crowd; more than once I almost blurted out "Well, I ain't much on fancy book learnin'." Scotch Eggs were much in evidence, as were Lawnmower Ales and the house Extra Pale Ale. (They were out of the house IPA, and ordering a beer that wasn't brewed on-site when you're at a brewpub is just wrong.)
After the general meeting broke up, Brigid, RX, and I wandered the streets of Broad Ripple, found a whole store full of hippies and Birkenstocks and tofu, and strolled the Monon and the Art Center grounds for a bit. By the time the shadows started lengthening, I had become pleasantly full of good food, good beer, good conversation, and warm sunshine.
A lot of those lucky people will be doing it again next weekend, while I'm off displaying my total lack of skill and talent in front of some of the most popular writers in the gun blogosphere. It'll be awesome!
After the general meeting broke up, Brigid, RX, and I wandered the streets of Broad Ripple, found a whole store full of hippies and Birkenstocks and tofu, and strolled the Monon and the Art Center grounds for a bit. By the time the shadows started lengthening, I had become pleasantly full of good food, good beer, good conversation, and warm sunshine.
A lot of those lucky people will be doing it again next weekend, while I'm off displaying my total lack of skill and talent in front of some of the most popular writers in the gun blogosphere. It'll be awesome!
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Working at the ol' factory.
The other day I was heating up some leftover prime rib for lunch and I thought to myself "You know, that grated horseradish in the fridge would be the berries on this." So I pulled out the jar, but noticed that the use-by date thereon was September of '08.
Hm. How funky does this stuff get as doomsday approaches? Without putting a lot of thought into the matter, I uncapped it and took a big whiff.
Which was kind of pointless when you think about it, because even freshly grated horseradish smells like a stale onion in an old sweat sock. How can you tell when it's gone funky?
FWIW, this stuff was still just fine. Yum!
Hm. How funky does this stuff get as doomsday approaches? Without putting a lot of thought into the matter, I uncapped it and took a big whiff.
Which was kind of pointless when you think about it, because even freshly grated horseradish smells like a stale onion in an old sweat sock. How can you tell when it's gone funky?
FWIW, this stuff was still just fine. Yum!
Wishing for the moon...
It's good to have impossible dreams. Mine is finding an IWB holster along the lines of the Summer Special or Versa-Max II, sized to fit the early Colt M1903 Pocket Hammerless with the 4" barrel length.
And un-bubbaized stocks for a Ross Mk.II rifle, a Mauser Kar.71, and a Mannlicher-Berthier M.1907/15. And a magazine follower & spring for a Siamese M1903 Mauser. And an extractor for a Frommer Stop.
I also want a gold house and a rocket car.
And un-bubbaized stocks for a Ross Mk.II rifle, a Mauser Kar.71, and a Mannlicher-Berthier M.1907/15. And a magazine follower & spring for a Siamese M1903 Mauser. And an extractor for a Frommer Stop.
I also want a gold house and a rocket car.
Blogarage sales.
For sale in the blogosphere:
Tac vest and holster.
'67 Mustang.
Take advantage of the fabulous Back-To-School savings!
Tac vest and holster.
'67 Mustang.
Take advantage of the fabulous Back-To-School savings!
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Overheard in a Restaurant:
(Olympic women's marathon is on the TeeWee over the bar...)
Me: "There's a sport that's not made for spectators."
Dinner companion: "Maybe if they let you scoot along on mopeds to watch. Or if they ran it in a stadium..."
Me: "But it'd get pretty boring just watching people run in circles for hours."
DC: "I don't know, Indy and NASCAR seem to do okay."
Me: "Yeah, but marathon runners don't occasionally just cartwheel down the track and burst into flames for no reason. Now that would be some excitement."
Me: "There's a sport that's not made for spectators."
Dinner companion: "Maybe if they let you scoot along on mopeds to watch. Or if they ran it in a stadium..."
Me: "But it'd get pretty boring just watching people run in circles for hours."
DC: "I don't know, Indy and NASCAR seem to do okay."
Me: "Yeah, but marathon runners don't occasionally just cartwheel down the track and burst into flames for no reason. Now that would be some excitement."
Backwards compatibility.
One of the selling points of the EOTech Model 512 when I first started hawking them was the fact that they used the common AA-size batteries rather than the esoteric N-cell used by the Model 511. When I purchased one of my own, I was happy with the fact that I could pick up batteries at any old convenience store to keep my optic running.
Just a few short years later, almost nothing I own runs on AA batteries except for my camera and the flashlight I keep in the bedroom for blackouts. All my other lights, from the light on my carbine to my Surefire "tactical" flashlight and even the little TwinTask 1L I keep in my purse for general flashlight chores, use lithium CR123 cells. This means I need to keep the little battery compartments in my foregrip and pistol grip filled with two different kinds of batteries. This is a pain in the butt. I need to get rich so I can replace my 512 with a 553 that takes the newer batteries. Plus it comes in flat dark earth, which would match my gun, and that's important to the style-conscious armchair commando like myself.
Just a few short years later, almost nothing I own runs on AA batteries except for my camera and the flashlight I keep in the bedroom for blackouts. All my other lights, from the light on my carbine to my Surefire "tactical" flashlight and even the little TwinTask 1L I keep in my purse for general flashlight chores, use lithium CR123 cells. This means I need to keep the little battery compartments in my foregrip and pistol grip filled with two different kinds of batteries. This is a pain in the butt. I need to get rich so I can replace my 512 with a 553 that takes the newer batteries. Plus it comes in flat dark earth, which would match my gun, and that's important to the style-conscious armchair commando like myself.
Overheard in the Hallway:
RX: "It's like a baby Frankenstein."
Me: "A wha... huh?"
RX: "You know, 'Shock and awwww'."
Me: "A wha... huh?"
RX: "You know, 'Shock and awwww'."
What's redneck for "chutzpah"?
So a couple of good ol' boys in my home state of Georgia claim to have found the corpse of a unique Southeastern variety of Bigfoot who had apparently committed the unforgivable Bigfoot sin of not dissolving into thin air upon dying. The find of an Appalachian Bigfoot is especially amazing, since the critter has to be stealthy, living in a neck of the woods that has had sports stadiums and outlet malls since neolithic times.
Of course our intrepid discoverers reacted the way that anybody in possession of rock-solid proof would react: They refused to let anybody see the purported remains and instead announced that the results of DNA testing would be released at a news conference in Palo Alto, clear across the country, on Friday.
At the press conference, the anxious and credulous were informed that the rare and elusive h. bigfootus crackerus is, in fact, a human-opossum hybrid.
(A big h/t to Unc for originally tipping me off to this astonishing tale.)
Of course our intrepid discoverers reacted the way that anybody in possession of rock-solid proof would react: They refused to let anybody see the purported remains and instead announced that the results of DNA testing would be released at a news conference in Palo Alto, clear across the country, on Friday.
At the press conference, the anxious and credulous were informed that the rare and elusive h. bigfootus crackerus is, in fact, a human-opossum hybrid.
(A big h/t to Unc for originally tipping me off to this astonishing tale.)
Friday, August 15, 2008
Readin', Writin', Reloadin'.
One school district in Texas has decided to step up and do the common sense thing to combat the possibility of school violence. In the coming school year, teachers with toter's permits in the Harrold, TX school district will get to take their practicum in pistol packing.
An upside to the Olympics.
A whole generation has grown up since the fall of the Iron Curtain and missed out on watching spectacles like the KGB having to guard their own athletes to keep them from defecting. It was always very instructive to me as a kid.
Now the Chinese are happily providing plenty of heartwarming stories on what happens when a totalitarian nation decides it needs athletes. "You! Leave the village and come with us. You are a gymnast now!"
Now the Chinese are happily providing plenty of heartwarming stories on what happens when a totalitarian nation decides it needs athletes. "You! Leave the village and come with us. You are a gymnast now!"
Thursday, August 14, 2008
You know what I love about my new crib?
Being able to ride my bike two blocks for a yummy Cuban sandwich for lunch today.
How festive...
Bush and Rice warned Russia not to interfere with the delivery of humanitarian aid, noting that Tuesday's French-brokered cease-fire allows for the delivery of international relief, and expressed concern over reports that Russian units were continuing to advance into Georgian cities despite Tuesday's cease-fire.
So there will be U.S. military aircraft and ships in a position to come under fire from the Russkies as they deliver humanitarian aid to refugees in Georgia. Gosh, how could that go wrong?
One of the more plausible WWIII scenarios in the late 1980s was a civil war in post-Khomeini Iran. The Soviets pick a side, we pick a side. We send materiel, they send materiel. They send advisors, we send advisors. We send troops, they send troops. Next thing you know, the First Guards Tank Army is through the Fulda Gap and driving for Frankfurt.
Things get touchy any time the military units of nuclear-armed nations are in the same neighborhood.
Crime Guns.
When I had my motorcycle accident years back, the Atlanta Police Department wound up in custody of my Glock 29 and Beretta Tomcat, as well as the Ruger Vaquero I was taking home from work at the time. I believe the initial stolen gun check went something like this:
Police officer (in E.R.): "Are these guns stolen?"
Me (on gurney, still no morphine): "ooowwww...No.o.oOOOOOOOWWWW!"
I'm sure they did something more formal involving at least running the serial numbers through the NCIC to see if they'd been reported stolen but, push come to shove, when it came time to get my guns back from the City of Atlanta, it was as simple as giving my ex a notarized letter to take down to the cop shop.
Fortunately, they weren't... Crime Guns. You know "Crime Guns", right? Those are the scary things involved in murder and mayhem, used in drive-bys and found by cooling bodies; referenced by the media in breathless phrases like "Data from the government shows that 25% of all Crime Guns yadda yadda yackety schmackety." Those Crime Guns must be an evil thing, no?
Yeah, well, let me tell you what the definition of a "Crime Gun" is: It is a gun that the ATF has run a trace on. The reason that the ATF would run a trace on a gun is because a police department has come into possession of the firearm when its owner was charged with some crime or another. On a good year for busting stockbrokers, there are probably a lot of Perazzi doubles that get traces run on them.
This year, the number of "Crime Guns" of the bucks-up custom 1911 persuasion is going to be high by at least one. That's because the Gallatin, TN Police Department took custody of a 1911 from someone who was guilty of the heinous crime of... well, nothing, actually. Unless being on the wrong end of .gov clerical errors is a crime now.
He still hasn't got his gun back. When he does, he'd better keep a close eye on it. It's a Crime Gun now, and you know how dangerous those Crime Guns can be.
Police officer (in E.R.): "Are these guns stolen?"
Me (on gurney, still no morphine): "ooowwww...No.o.oOOOOOOOWWWW!"
I'm sure they did something more formal involving at least running the serial numbers through the NCIC to see if they'd been reported stolen but, push come to shove, when it came time to get my guns back from the City of Atlanta, it was as simple as giving my ex a notarized letter to take down to the cop shop.
Fortunately, they weren't... Crime Guns. You know "Crime Guns", right? Those are the scary things involved in murder and mayhem, used in drive-bys and found by cooling bodies; referenced by the media in breathless phrases like "Data from the government shows that 25% of all Crime Guns yadda yadda yackety schmackety." Those Crime Guns must be an evil thing, no?
Yeah, well, let me tell you what the definition of a "Crime Gun" is: It is a gun that the ATF has run a trace on. The reason that the ATF would run a trace on a gun is because a police department has come into possession of the firearm when its owner was charged with some crime or another. On a good year for busting stockbrokers, there are probably a lot of Perazzi doubles that get traces run on them.
This year, the number of "Crime Guns" of the bucks-up custom 1911 persuasion is going to be high by at least one. That's because the Gallatin, TN Police Department took custody of a 1911 from someone who was guilty of the heinous crime of... well, nothing, actually. Unless being on the wrong end of .gov clerical errors is a crime now.
He still hasn't got his gun back. When he does, he'd better keep a close eye on it. It's a Crime Gun now, and you know how dangerous those Crime Guns can be.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Today In History: Happy Few.
On this day in 1415, Henry V of England landed in Normandy with 8,000 men and proceeded to spend the next few months handing the French one monumental ass-whuppin' after another.
Overheard in the Office...
Me: "I just went with the regular old yellow squash instead of springing for the organic kind."
RX: "The organic kind just means it had crap in the fertilizer..."
Me: "Yeah, I figured I'd save money, go with the bug spray and keep people's feces off my veggies."
RX: "It's usually from animals."
Me: "Well, that makes it okay then."
RX: "The organic kind just means it had crap in the fertilizer..."
Me: "Yeah, I figured I'd save money, go with the bug spray and keep people's feces off my veggies."
RX: "It's usually from animals."
Me: "Well, that makes it okay then."
When did that happen?
I talked on the phone today with Marko. We went on at length over my lawn and garden stuff, what he was feeding the kids for lunch, my cookery plans, random "how's the family?"-type household stuff... and maybe five minutes apiece on cool topics like WiFi/iPods/laptops and the Russkie invasion of Georgia. I think there may have been two sentences in there peripherally related to firearms, but it was awfully peripheral, like "Writing about guns," or "How I carry on my bicycle," and not "Holy crap, did you see the new BlastOMatic 2000 Tactical Elite model?!?"
When did we get all dull and old?
When did we get all dull and old?
Not venturing too far afield...
I'm going to try something only slightly different from my last big kitchen adventure, since I feel moderately comfortable with the techniques involved. I found recipes for baked lemon pepper herb tilapia and some garlic butter squash. Because, you know, everything's better with garlic, butter, and pepper.
UPDATE: Complete with chives fresh from the garden. Yum. Who's the cook? Who's the cook, beeyotch? That's right...
UPDATE: Complete with chives fresh from the garden. Yum. Who's the cook? Who's the cook, beeyotch? That's right...
How do you say "Milli Vanilli" in Mandarin?
"The reason was for the national interest," said Chen Qigang, the ceremony's musical director, in a state radio interview. "The child on camera should be flawless in image, internal feeling and expression. ... Lin Miaoke is excellent in those aspects."
Apparently the initial rehearsals were reviewed by the old men of the politburo, who deemed the actual singer, 7 year old Yang Peiyi, "Not hot enough to be the Chinese Britney."
Incidentally, the new Olympic Stadium is said to be able to host the simultaneous executions of over five hundred political prisoners, a 75% increase over the previous venue.
(H/T to the Munchkin Wrangler.)
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Just wanted to say...
...hooray for home-grown grape tomatoes!
That's all.
You may go about your business.
That's all.
You may go about your business.
You might be in a cult if...
- Everybody dresses alike.
- You have to change your name to something weird.
- Bodies of small children get left in unclaimed luggage after being sprayed with Lysol to cut down on the funk.
"Police and Ramkissoon's family said the group is a cult," says the journo. I'd say that the preponderance of evidence supports their claim, wouldn't you?
'Nother Knife Auction coming up...
I've got to sell some Girl Scout cookies for gas money to make it to the tactical jamboree. Watch this space...
Today In History: East is East and West is West...
...and on each other the twain shall beat.
On this date, August the 12th, in...
1099: The forces of the First Crusade, commanded by Godfrey of Bouillon, handed a stomping to the Islamic Fatimid army at Ascalon, bringing the First Crusade to a successful conclusion. The sequels usually didn't have such happy endings.
1121: Orthodox Georgian forces routed the Seljuk Turks at the Battle of Didgori.
1164: Nur ad-Din led his Islamic troops to a shattering defeat of the Crusader states of Tripoli and Antioch at Harim in Turkey, while the bulk of the other Crusader troops were off meddling in Egyptian affairs.
1480: In the wake of the capture of the fortress of Otranto, Ottoman Turks behead 800 captives for refusing to convert to Islam.
1499: The indecisive opening acts of the naval battle of First Lepanto, which ended as a Turkish victory over Catholic Venice some two weeks later. (Second Lepanto was also a Turkish victory, but both are largely forgotten in the West in favor of THE Battle of Lepanto some 71 years later, where the Ottomans got their Hummus spread by the Venetians.)
1687: Habsburg forces under Charles of Lorraine annihilate the Ottoman Mussulmen at Second Mohacs, marking the beginning of the end for Turkish dreams in Europe.
Given the history of the date, it makes you wonder what's shakin' over in that part of the world today...
On this date, August the 12th, in...
1099: The forces of the First Crusade, commanded by Godfrey of Bouillon, handed a stomping to the Islamic Fatimid army at Ascalon, bringing the First Crusade to a successful conclusion. The sequels usually didn't have such happy endings.
1121: Orthodox Georgian forces routed the Seljuk Turks at the Battle of Didgori.
1164: Nur ad-Din led his Islamic troops to a shattering defeat of the Crusader states of Tripoli and Antioch at Harim in Turkey, while the bulk of the other Crusader troops were off meddling in Egyptian affairs.
1480: In the wake of the capture of the fortress of Otranto, Ottoman Turks behead 800 captives for refusing to convert to Islam.
1499: The indecisive opening acts of the naval battle of First Lepanto, which ended as a Turkish victory over Catholic Venice some two weeks later. (Second Lepanto was also a Turkish victory, but both are largely forgotten in the West in favor of THE Battle of Lepanto some 71 years later, where the Ottomans got their Hummus spread by the Venetians.)
1687: Habsburg forces under Charles of Lorraine annihilate the Ottoman Mussulmen at Second Mohacs, marking the beginning of the end for Turkish dreams in Europe.
Given the history of the date, it makes you wonder what's shakin' over in that part of the world today...
Monday, August 11, 2008
Quote of the Day:
Reader perlhaqr on lawn maintenance, from comments here:
Look for some gene-spliced overly emotionally sensitive grass in the gardening department at Home Despot any day now...
You just need to play Emo music at the lawn. That way it'll cut itself.perlhaqr wins the intarw3bz!
Look for some gene-spliced overly emotionally sensitive grass in the gardening department at Home Despot any day now...
The $0 pistol repair...
...or, "Doctor, it hurts when I do this."
My Glock 30 didn't like 200gr SWC ammunition from Georgia Arms. After a very brief moment of being stumped by this failing, I fixed it for no money and with no swapping or modification of parts, despite not being a gunsmith or engineer: I stopped trying to shoot 200gr SWC Georgia Arms ammo in my Glock 30. You run into this all the time in the gun world:
Customer: "My BlastOMatic 2000 has started jamming a lot."
Helpful Employee: "Wow, you never had problems with it before. What kind of malfs are you having? Failures to feed? Failures to eject?"
C: "Well, it's started not getting the round into the chamber sometimes, and sometimes it stovepipes the empty case."
H.E.: "Have you changed your grip...?"
C: "No."
H.E.: "What about ammo?"
C: "I'm still shooting that Blammuntion-brand 225gr FMJ from those five cases I got a good deal on last year."
H.E.: "And I know you're anal-retentive about cleaning and lube... What's changed?"
C: "The only thing different is the 19# TacticalCo recoil spring I put in the gun."
H.E.: "Huh? The BOM2k ships with a 13.5# spring. Why'd you change? Had it stopped working with the factory spring?"
C: "No, but my friends said the TacticalCo spring was better."
H.E.: "Yeah, but why?
C: "I dunno. It was just... better."
H.E.: "Try swapping the old spring back in."
LATER:
C: "Hey, that worked!"
H.E.: "Imagine."
Two bits of common wisdom that are common wisdom for a reason:
(PostScript: Not that there's anything wrong with Georgia Arms .45ACP 200gr SWC; it's still my favorite .45 practice ammo. Just not in that particular Glock 30. With literally hundreds of different types of ammo available, which is easier: Getting a particular gun to shoot the one kind it doesn't like? Or shooting the hundreds of kinds it does?)
My Glock 30 didn't like 200gr SWC ammunition from Georgia Arms. After a very brief moment of being stumped by this failing, I fixed it for no money and with no swapping or modification of parts, despite not being a gunsmith or engineer: I stopped trying to shoot 200gr SWC Georgia Arms ammo in my Glock 30. You run into this all the time in the gun world:
Customer: "My BlastOMatic 2000 has started jamming a lot."
Helpful Employee: "Wow, you never had problems with it before. What kind of malfs are you having? Failures to feed? Failures to eject?"
C: "Well, it's started not getting the round into the chamber sometimes, and sometimes it stovepipes the empty case."
H.E.: "Have you changed your grip...?"
C: "No."
H.E.: "What about ammo?"
C: "I'm still shooting that Blammuntion-brand 225gr FMJ from those five cases I got a good deal on last year."
H.E.: "And I know you're anal-retentive about cleaning and lube... What's changed?"
C: "The only thing different is the 19# TacticalCo recoil spring I put in the gun."
H.E.: "Huh? The BOM2k ships with a 13.5# spring. Why'd you change? Had it stopped working with the factory spring?"
C: "No, but my friends said the TacticalCo spring was better."
H.E.: "Yeah, but why?
C: "I dunno. It was just... better."
H.E.: "Try swapping the old spring back in."
LATER:
C: "Hey, that worked!"
H.E.: "Imagine."
Two bits of common wisdom that are common wisdom for a reason:
- "Doctor, it hurts when I do this!" "Well, stop doing that."
- If it ain't broke, don't fix it.
(PostScript: Not that there's anything wrong with Georgia Arms .45ACP 200gr SWC; it's still my favorite .45 practice ammo. Just not in that particular Glock 30. With literally hundreds of different types of ammo available, which is easier: Getting a particular gun to shoot the one kind it doesn't like? Or shooting the hundreds of kinds it does?)
How did they find this out?
Apparently, hagfish slime tastes like chicken. Unborn chicken, granted, but chicken nonetheless.
You have to wonder how this discovery came about. "Hey, George, come here and lick this hagfish. Does this taste like egg white to you, too?"
You have to wonder how this discovery came about. "Hey, George, come here and lick this hagfish. Does this taste like egg white to you, too?"
That's kinda interesting.
Researchers have apparently been messing around with using thermoelectric generation, a process that converts heat (temperature differentials, actually) to electricity, to generate enough juice to replace a vehicle's alternator. Having been used in the space program, it's not like this is untried technology that's never been exposed to harsh elements either, although you don't get much in the way of slush and road salt in space...
Use a big enough battery to handle the load until the exhaust gas gets up to temp, or put a magnetic clutch in the alternator like the one on the a/c compressor, and you could remove a large source of parasitic drag from the car's engine. Surely you've noticed how your gas mileage improves when you turn off the air conditioning, right? Imagine being able to turn it even off-er.
Use a big enough battery to handle the load until the exhaust gas gets up to temp, or put a magnetic clutch in the alternator like the one on the a/c compressor, and you could remove a large source of parasitic drag from the car's engine. Surely you've noticed how your gas mileage improves when you turn off the air conditioning, right? Imagine being able to turn it even off-er.
Mortgaged bread and Chinese circuses.
Frank James on the recent WTO negotiations, canditatorial clueslessness on agribusiness, and a grim future: It makes for an interesting read.
Snark.
In comments elsewhere on the web, someone complained that they didn't come here anymore because of the pointless sarcasm and condescension.
I commiserated. I mean, coming here if you don't like sarcasm and condescension would be like going to the zoo if you didn't like giraffes and monkeys.
I commiserated. I mean, coming here if you don't like sarcasm and condescension would be like going to the zoo if you didn't like giraffes and monkeys.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Range Report.
Fun Tam won, and I went shooting with a friend who also needed to burn some powder to get ready for an upcoming course. I got to the range too late to shoot with Brigid, but now I know where the range is and can find it on my own. Hopefully next time.
First things first was a few mags of defensive ammo through the '66 Colt. My first three shots cold drilled the X dead-on but I started getting a bit of vertical stringing midway through the first mag, and by the end of the third, I had chewed a nice, oblong hole at 6 o'clock on the bull, centered maybe an inch low. Time for the Ciener.
Popping the slide off the Colt the old-fashioned way, I replaced it with the .22 unit and ran about another 100 rounds rapid-fire, trying to concentrate on not slapping the trigger and not driving the muzzle down in anticipation of the shot. Once the rounds were landing back atop the front sight properly, I pulled out my 2" S&W Kit Gun and spent a few cylinders making sure I still knew how a double-action trigger works. Yes, I did. Oddly, I still shoot better cold with a DA revolver trigger. Once you get the hang of it, it's a lot like riding a bike. Just don't "stage" the damn thing; pull it through smoothly.
Back to the Colt. As I was putting the .45 barrel and slide back on the gun, it was quite apparent that someone hadn't cleaned her gun last time she shot it, plus it was bone dry. Oh, well. A couple hundred rounds of Georgia Arms 200gr semiwadcutters, CCI Blazer 200gr Gold Dots, and mixed FedRemWin 230gr ball later, it failed to lock open after a magazine. I borrowed some erl (that's how we pronounce it back home) from my shooting buddy and glurched a big dollop up under the bottom of the slide, holding the muzzle down so it trickled into the works, and schmeared some on the barrel hood and muzzle area, dropped the slide and ran through a mag with it spitting filthy oil on my hand. Locked back fine. Drive on. After a total of probably 225-250rds (wasn't counting, but I reloaded all four mags at least seven times) the 20lpi checkering was starting to hurt my soft wittle, un-gloved hands and I was only going to reinforce bad habits if I kept shooting, and so I was ready to call it a day.
Time to clean the Colt, I guess. Maybe after dinner.
(PS: Oh, and one of the rangemasters there had just picked up one of those Jerry .22LR MP-5 clones and let us give it a whirl. That thing was a hoot! I was wearing out a cartridge box at the base of the berm with no trouble whatsoever. Do want.)
First things first was a few mags of defensive ammo through the '66 Colt. My first three shots cold drilled the X dead-on but I started getting a bit of vertical stringing midway through the first mag, and by the end of the third, I had chewed a nice, oblong hole at 6 o'clock on the bull, centered maybe an inch low. Time for the Ciener.
Popping the slide off the Colt the old-fashioned way, I replaced it with the .22 unit and ran about another 100 rounds rapid-fire, trying to concentrate on not slapping the trigger and not driving the muzzle down in anticipation of the shot. Once the rounds were landing back atop the front sight properly, I pulled out my 2" S&W Kit Gun and spent a few cylinders making sure I still knew how a double-action trigger works. Yes, I did. Oddly, I still shoot better cold with a DA revolver trigger. Once you get the hang of it, it's a lot like riding a bike. Just don't "stage" the damn thing; pull it through smoothly.
Back to the Colt. As I was putting the .45 barrel and slide back on the gun, it was quite apparent that someone hadn't cleaned her gun last time she shot it, plus it was bone dry. Oh, well. A couple hundred rounds of Georgia Arms 200gr semiwadcutters, CCI Blazer 200gr Gold Dots, and mixed FedRemWin 230gr ball later, it failed to lock open after a magazine. I borrowed some erl (that's how we pronounce it back home) from my shooting buddy and glurched a big dollop up under the bottom of the slide, holding the muzzle down so it trickled into the works, and schmeared some on the barrel hood and muzzle area, dropped the slide and ran through a mag with it spitting filthy oil on my hand. Locked back fine. Drive on. After a total of probably 225-250rds (wasn't counting, but I reloaded all four mags at least seven times) the 20lpi checkering was starting to hurt my soft wittle, un-gloved hands and I was only going to reinforce bad habits if I kept shooting, and so I was ready to call it a day.
Time to clean the Colt, I guess. Maybe after dinner.
(PS: Oh, and one of the rangemasters there had just picked up one of those Jerry .22LR MP-5 clones and let us give it a whirl. That thing was a hoot! I was wearing out a cartridge box at the base of the berm with no trouble whatsoever. Do want.)
A slightly belated "Happy Birthday!"...
...to my pal Squeaks, who apparently had a good one.
(Wow, a whole quarter-century old! That's, like, ancient! :p)
(Wow, a whole quarter-century old! That's, like, ancient! :p)
Internicine warfare...
Fun Tam: "I wanna go shooting!"
Dull Tam: "You've got another two loads of laundry to do, stuff to write, and the lawn ain't going to mow itself."
Dull Tam: "You've got another two loads of laundry to do, stuff to write, and the lawn ain't going to mow itself."
Solo flight.
So, last night I prepared to wow my roomie with my newfound confidence and mad, 1337 skillz in the kitchen: I made my first solo flight with fried asparagus and baked salmon a lá Gunsmith Bob. (Because anything that lets you grab most of a stick of butter in your bare mitt and rub it lasciviously over pristine salmon steaks is just big fun to make.)
No lemon juice from a bottle or garlic from a can, either. Okay, I didn't use evaporative trays to collect the sea salt from the ocean and the pepper was from a grinder, but other than that, I did everything but catch the fish.
I carried the plates into the living room, we sat at our respective TeeWee trays, I sampled my fare... It's probably considered déclassé, if not outright gauche, to make little ecstatic whimpering noises over your own cooking, but I did. Dang, that was good. I started throwing avaricious glances towards my roomie's plate, but she managed to hoover her vittles before I was even halfway done.
I guess we can call this a success. Go Team Me!
No lemon juice from a bottle or garlic from a can, either. Okay, I didn't use evaporative trays to collect the sea salt from the ocean and the pepper was from a grinder, but other than that, I did everything but catch the fish.
I carried the plates into the living room, we sat at our respective TeeWee trays, I sampled my fare... It's probably considered déclassé, if not outright gauche, to make little ecstatic whimpering noises over your own cooking, but I did. Dang, that was good. I started throwing avaricious glances towards my roomie's plate, but she managed to hoover her vittles before I was even halfway done.
I guess we can call this a success. Go Team Me!
Saturday, August 09, 2008
It has begun!
Lock and load! The undead uprising, the shambling horror, the Zombocalypse, is underway! Vampire bats have gone off the reservation in Venezuela...
(The second best CNN headline today? "Snake slithers into weatherman's pants." Which is the reverse of how it usually occurs, as everyone knows...)
(The second best CNN headline today? "Snake slithers into weatherman's pants." Which is the reverse of how it usually occurs, as everyone knows...)
Now taking predictions:
Who arrests more protestors:
The ChiCom cops during the Olympics? Or the Denver PD during the DNC?
To make it fair, the ChiComs can only count protestors actually arrested (that means alive) at or immediately outside Olympic events; people shot or crushed by tanks elsewhere in the country do not accrue towards the total.
The ChiCom cops during the Olympics? Or the Denver PD during the DNC?
To make it fair, the ChiComs can only count protestors actually arrested (that means alive) at or immediately outside Olympic events; people shot or crushed by tanks elsewhere in the country do not accrue towards the total.
Further ruminating on South Ossetia...
...has led me to believe that the U.S. military has completely spoiled the media.
A whole generation of journalists and pundits has grown to maturity believing that war is a precision affair, with special safe zones like hospitals and places of worship where the enemy can yell "Not it! Olly olly oxen free!"; where bombs only hit bad guys and the exceptions to that rule are worth a circular firing squad of finger-pointing and a cashiered officer; where women and children are safe, "collateral damage" is something to worry about, and rape is a prosecutable offense; where invading armies are trailed by a thundering herd of engineers, civil affairs, and military police and JAG types, anxious to rebuild infrastructure, put up schools, and keep the troops in line.
This is not how war works. This is an aberration, a relatively recent Anglo-American twist on warfare brought to its current fine pitch only by the might of American technology and taxes that allow us to blow up a crude hand-built donkey cart carrying a couple of AK-47's with a $250,000 computerized satellite-guided bomb. And then worry about the wrath of the ASPCA for hurting the donkey.
Nowhere else, nowhen else, has war ever been fought like that. When the Russians go into South Ossetian towns, raining dumb bombs on civilian and soldier alike, that's the way war is and has been for the entire history of the human species. The French even have a special phrase for when nuns get blown up by indiscriminate rocket fire and babies are charred by napalm and the invading army rapes their way through a village: C'est la guerre.
Such is war.
Think about that the next time you rail at America's "brutal, fascist war machine".
A whole generation of journalists and pundits has grown to maturity believing that war is a precision affair, with special safe zones like hospitals and places of worship where the enemy can yell "Not it! Olly olly oxen free!"; where bombs only hit bad guys and the exceptions to that rule are worth a circular firing squad of finger-pointing and a cashiered officer; where women and children are safe, "collateral damage" is something to worry about, and rape is a prosecutable offense; where invading armies are trailed by a thundering herd of engineers, civil affairs, and military police and JAG types, anxious to rebuild infrastructure, put up schools, and keep the troops in line.
This is not how war works. This is an aberration, a relatively recent Anglo-American twist on warfare brought to its current fine pitch only by the might of American technology and taxes that allow us to blow up a crude hand-built donkey cart carrying a couple of AK-47's with a $250,000 computerized satellite-guided bomb. And then worry about the wrath of the ASPCA for hurting the donkey.
Nowhere else, nowhen else, has war ever been fought like that. When the Russians go into South Ossetian towns, raining dumb bombs on civilian and soldier alike, that's the way war is and has been for the entire history of the human species. The French even have a special phrase for when nuns get blown up by indiscriminate rocket fire and babies are charred by napalm and the invading army rapes their way through a village: C'est la guerre.
Such is war.
Think about that the next time you rail at America's "brutal, fascist war machine".
Some gun facts:
Syd thinks a .380 is "about a half step above shooting spitwads", which would probably make all the people it had killed laugh if they weren't, you know, graveyard dead. He no doubt has a quaint faith in the Mighty .45, given the title of the site on which he posts. I had to comment:
There is a Vietnam-era helicopter pilot who has a souvenir helmet with a 12.7mm hole in either side of it, which is why I don’t trust any pussy .50BMG and carry a 14.5mm DShK.The cranial vault is tougher than most people think.
Handguns are a lot less powerful than most people think. (Yes, even the “mighty” .45)
Ball ammunition is a lousy stopper and often deflects from skulls and ribs.
Pistols are a poor choice to shoot a body with. I don't have faith in any of them, not even .44 Magnums. The only reason you'd ever use a pistol for self defense is because you'd look silly wandering through the produce department at the grocery store with a slung Garand or pushing your stroller while carrying an M4 carbine.
Friday, August 08, 2008
Who writes this stuff?
Okay, so, Russian tanks have rolled into Georgia; Russki fighter bombers are swooping around, bombing the crap out of stuff. What does our intrepid journalist write?
News reports documented fierce clashes between Georgian and Russian forces -- engagements that caused deaths, property damage, and population displacement...No! Really?!? Not property damage! Quick! Call State Farm! I swear, what are they teaching at journalism school these days? This clown could have muffed D-Day:
Allied and German forces clashed along the beaches of Normandy today, snarling traffic, damaging vacation cottages, and killing some people. Also, a woman reported having her hair mussed by a 14" shell from the USS Texas.This is a military invasion, for chrissakes, not a tornado in a traffic jam.
...
So, there seems to be a problem involving a bunch of baby rapers running loose in Afghanistan.
What's the problem over there? Asinine ROE? Are we short of ammo? I mean, I've got a case or two of M855 ball sitting around gathering dust at the moment, and I'll gladly donate it to a cause like that. Is having steel in your leg still a disqualifier? 'Cause I'll go answer phones at Fort Bragg if it'll free up some young healthy dude to go shoot some baby rapers.
What's the problem over there? Asinine ROE? Are we short of ammo? I mean, I've got a case or two of M855 ball sitting around gathering dust at the moment, and I'll gladly donate it to a cause like that. Is having steel in your leg still a disqualifier? 'Cause I'll go answer phones at Fort Bragg if it'll free up some young healthy dude to go shoot some baby rapers.
Today In History: The Aluminum Overcast.
August 8th, 1946, was the date of the first test flight by Convair's B-36 "Peacemaker", the first intercontinental strategic bomber, and the largest operational bomber ever.
Final operational variants had six massive piston engines and four turbojets ("Six turnin' and four burnin',") and were the "mothership" aircraft in the fascinating FICON program.
For a good, up-close (if Hollywood-ized) look at the planes, check out Strategic Air Command, in which they co-starred alongside Jimmy Stewart.
Final operational variants had six massive piston engines and four turbojets ("Six turnin' and four burnin',") and were the "mothership" aircraft in the fascinating FICON program.
For a good, up-close (if Hollywood-ized) look at the planes, check out Strategic Air Command, in which they co-starred alongside Jimmy Stewart.
Thursday, August 07, 2008
Wait... It's not actually my eyes.
I've been using Gunsmith Bob's computer for the last better part of a week. I got home and fired up the Mac and... *squint*
Wait, my eyes haven't gone bad from the drive, it's just that almost six days of a 17" monitor at 800x600 can make the old 15" LCD at 1024x768 look a little postage-stamp-y.
Wait, my eyes haven't gone bad from the drive, it's just that almost six days of a 17" monitor at 800x600 can make the old 15" LCD at 1024x768 look a little postage-stamp-y.
State of the Interstate report...
Rolled out of K-town at 1112EDT, arrived Roseholme Cottage 1640EDT. Trip odometer showed a hair shy of 378 miles. Rolling average was ~68mph, plus a muy quick petrol stop just south of Lexington. Hands and feet still feel a little disconnected when I'm sitting still. Cats ecstatic to see me; I'm assuming my roommate will be also, but she's still off tending the Warp Core at the starship.
Interstate retard recap, trip notes, and vacation thoughts to follow. Maybe even tonight. Or maybe I'll just enjoy an Oaken Barrel Gnaw Bone and deal with the keyboard demons tomorrow. Who can say?
Interstate retard recap, trip notes, and vacation thoughts to follow. Maybe even tonight. Or maybe I'll just enjoy an Oaken Barrel Gnaw Bone and deal with the keyboard demons tomorrow. Who can say?
The drive home...
Time to point the Bimmer towards Hoosierville again. If you don't see a post by me this evening, it means I'm playing Children of the Corn somewhere between Cincy and I-465.
The only downside to long trips in the Bavarian Cruise Missile is that the seat sits somewhat low to the floor when compared to a sedan or SUV. When they screwed my leg back together in Summer of '00, they apparently only had one size of sheet metal screws handy. As a result, the end of one screw pokes out the backside of my shin bone up near my knee and when my leg is held in certain positions, it can twinge painfully against the tendons abaft my knee assembly. One of those painful positions is the one my leg is in while depressing the throttle on the superslab. Lor' bless cruise control...
The only downside to long trips in the Bavarian Cruise Missile is that the seat sits somewhat low to the floor when compared to a sedan or SUV. When they screwed my leg back together in Summer of '00, they apparently only had one size of sheet metal screws handy. As a result, the end of one screw pokes out the backside of my shin bone up near my knee and when my leg is held in certain positions, it can twinge painfully against the tendons abaft my knee assembly. One of those painful positions is the one my leg is in while depressing the throttle on the superslab. Lor' bless cruise control...
Today In U.S. Military History:
On this date in...
1782: George Washington authorized the Badge of Military Merit, a cloth badge worn on the facing of the frock coat. It was purple in color, shaped like a heart, and awarded for valor. It wasn't until 1932 that the Purple Heart evolved into its current form as an enemy marksmanship medal.
1789: The bellicose-sounding U.S. Department of War was formed. It wasn't until 1949 that the name was changed to the (much less offensive to sensitive types) "Department of Defense". Hippies weren't fooled.
1942: After taking it on the chin since December of the previous year, the U.S. went on the offensive in the Pacific, landing units of the 1st Marine Division on the island of Guadalcanal.
1782: George Washington authorized the Badge of Military Merit, a cloth badge worn on the facing of the frock coat. It was purple in color, shaped like a heart, and awarded for valor. It wasn't until 1932 that the Purple Heart evolved into its current form as an enemy marksmanship medal.
1789: The bellicose-sounding U.S. Department of War was formed. It wasn't until 1949 that the name was changed to the (much less offensive to sensitive types) "Department of Defense". Hippies weren't fooled.
1942: After taking it on the chin since December of the previous year, the U.S. went on the offensive in the Pacific, landing units of the 1st Marine Division on the island of Guadalcanal.
On this week's episode of Quis Custodiet?:
A prescription narcotics sting in Florida managed to snag over fifty .gov workers among its eager victims. Meanwhile, Rush Limbaugh managed to elude the dragnet.
Wednesday, August 06, 2008
The law of unintended consequences.
Og on how the US EPA indirectly contributed to the crappy air at the Beijing Olympics.
Love,
The Biggest Polluter In The World
XXXOOO
Love,
The Biggest Polluter In The World
XXXOOO
What I meant was...
From my comment at Sebastian's:
Interestingly, when I made my post about seeing a poor future for our republic yesterday, nearly everyone in the comments section went on at length about gun rights. That's a problem, from where I see it.
The state I just left, Tennessee, has some of the better gun laws in the nation. Reasonable CCW, NFA weapons are okay, no special permits required to own or purchase, et cetera. In fact, its gun laws have been steadily getting better over the last ten years, with constantly loosening restrictions on CCW and other victories.
On the other hand, it's seen confiscatory increases in taxes and sales tax enforcement, draconian smoking laws, red light cameras, all on the state level, as well as all the plethora of post 9/11 fed.gov intrusiveness. Children pass through metal detectors as they carry their clear or mesh bookbags to school.
I can see an America in ten or twenty years where we have a national ID card with biometrics and an integral RFID chip, asset forfeiture is still rampant, we're still losing a never-ending War on Drugs, tobacco and trans-fats are banned, minimum wage is $10/hr, and taxes are at European levels to support a European-style public health system...
...but we have national CCW reciprocity.
We're winning on the gun front. What about the other fronts?
May I take your order?
Spent the morning hanging out with the gunsmithing crew at CCA before heading back to the casa to catch the Braves game.
Before I left, I got volunteered to make the lunch run to Arby's. Gunsmith Bob scribbled down everyone's order on a piece of paper and down the road I went.
Rather than tie up the drive-thru with a monster order, I went inside. I stepped up to the register and the cashier asked me for my order. I looked at my piece of paper and read off: "Front & rear sights. Grip safet... Wait." *flip* "Large roast beef sandwich. Large curly fries..."
When I returned to the shop with the vittles, I recounted my embarrassing blooper. Gunsmith Bob said "Y'know, if they'd had sights and a grip safety, I'd have been impressed. We'd get lunch there more often."
Before I left, I got volunteered to make the lunch run to Arby's. Gunsmith Bob scribbled down everyone's order on a piece of paper and down the road I went.
Rather than tie up the drive-thru with a monster order, I went inside. I stepped up to the register and the cashier asked me for my order. I looked at my piece of paper and read off: "Front & rear sights. Grip safet... Wait." *flip* "Large roast beef sandwich. Large curly fries..."
When I returned to the shop with the vittles, I recounted my embarrassing blooper. Gunsmith Bob said "Y'know, if they'd had sights and a grip safety, I'd have been impressed. We'd get lunch there more often."
There's the circus. Where's the bread?
Obama the charismatic Rorschach candidate; McCain the ill-tempered oligarch; Cynthia McKinney, on work release from the funny farm to be the Green Party candidate; Bob Barr, who has promised the Libertarians that he will bite the head off this live chicken if they will please just let him be their candidate... The cast of characters in this election season is shaping up like the denizens of the Island of Misfit Toys from a live Broadway production of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.
It says nothing good about the state of electoral affairs in our fair republic when you watch Paris Hilton's spoof of McCain and think "Well, how is she really any worse or less qualified than the current array of choices?"
It says nothing good about the state of electoral affairs in our fair republic when you watch Paris Hilton's spoof of McCain and think "Well, how is she really any worse or less qualified than the current array of choices?"
Today In History: Rising fire, setting sun.
On this day in 1945, Col. Paul Tibbetts and the crew of the Enola Gay unleashed a nuclear fireball over downtown Hiroshima, Japan.
Tuesday, August 05, 2008
That was fun. And yummy.
Had lunch with Gunsmith Bob, Les Jones, and Say Uncle at Stir Fry Cafe. Gun talk, general conversation, and intarw3bz gossip with the old gang; good times! :)
Unc recommended the spicy noodles to me, and I recommend them to you.
Unc recommended the spicy noodles to me, and I recommend them to you.
Too much of a good thing.
Via the Maddened Fowl, I learned that the RCMP actually negotiated with the Canuckistanian bus decapitator dude for three hours after they showed up.
Now, okay, I'm as big on due process of law as the next person, but when you show up at the stopped bus, and it's empty of passengers except for one (1) dead guy and a blood-covered guy with a knife in one hand, a severed noggin in the other, and some human flesh hanging out of his mouth... well, that's not a "suspect", okay? You've got your man, Mister Mountie. That's the guy, right there.
"Come out of the bus!"
"No."
"Bang!"
Problem solved; taxpayers richer by whatever amount it's going to cost to house and feed and try this guy; gene pool a bit cleaner than it was yesterday. What's the big deal?
Now, okay, I'm as big on due process of law as the next person, but when you show up at the stopped bus, and it's empty of passengers except for one (1) dead guy and a blood-covered guy with a knife in one hand, a severed noggin in the other, and some human flesh hanging out of his mouth... well, that's not a "suspect", okay? You've got your man, Mister Mountie. That's the guy, right there.
"Come out of the bus!"
"No."
"Bang!"
Problem solved; taxpayers richer by whatever amount it's going to cost to house and feed and try this guy; gene pool a bit cleaner than it was yesterday. What's the big deal?
Sunny delight.
In talking with various smart people over the last few years, I have developed a pretty bleak view of the immediate future of our republic. I really don't think it's going to get better in my lifetime. I really think the system is irretrievably broken. I really think that my declining years are going to be spent in a European-style surveillance-ridden nanny state; a giant England with NASCAR and slightly better gun laws.
We can't vote our way out of this mess; it's voting that got us into it in the first place. As long as the prison cell has cable TV, high-speed 'net access, and four bars of signal from Verizon, most folks are happy there. The only freedom you will enjoy is what you can eke out as a stainless steel rat in the meager interstices of a concrete and steel world.
There are some who think an apocalyptic pro-freedom revolution will occur when the true patriots will rise up and throw off the oppressive chains of the evil overlords. How that will happen in a land where a majority of folks expect to be bailed out of bad mortgages and have discounted digital TeeWee tuners provided for them by the .gov is only fuzzily explained.
Others remain guardedly optimistic.
I wish I could.
We can't vote our way out of this mess; it's voting that got us into it in the first place. As long as the prison cell has cable TV, high-speed 'net access, and four bars of signal from Verizon, most folks are happy there. The only freedom you will enjoy is what you can eke out as a stainless steel rat in the meager interstices of a concrete and steel world.
There are some who think an apocalyptic pro-freedom revolution will occur when the true patriots will rise up and throw off the oppressive chains of the evil overlords. How that will happen in a land where a majority of folks expect to be bailed out of bad mortgages and have discounted digital TeeWee tuners provided for them by the .gov is only fuzzily explained.
Others remain guardedly optimistic.
I wish I could.
That could be bad...
So we're in the produce section at Kroger the other day, getting fixin's for a pot roast, and we happen to notice a little mixup in the pepper department.
There's a basket of little orange peppers and a basket of long green ones. Under the long green ones it says "Habaneros" and under the little orange ones, it says "Anaheims". Someone in West Knoxville is going to be told "Honey, I want to try this new Southwestern Grill recipe; I've always wanted to try cooking Tex-Mex. Here's a list of stuff I need from the grocery store..."
Hilarity ensues.
There's a basket of little orange peppers and a basket of long green ones. Under the long green ones it says "Habaneros" and under the little orange ones, it says "Anaheims". Someone in West Knoxville is going to be told "Honey, I want to try this new Southwestern Grill recipe; I've always wanted to try cooking Tex-Mex. Here's a list of stuff I need from the grocery store..."
Hilarity ensues.
Misplaced priorities...
So, one Richard Cooey claims he's too porky to be executed. He says he's fat enough that they have a hard time finding his veins when they draw blood, and that could cause him unnecessary suffering. Plus he's taking some kind of medication or another for seizures that could reduce the effects of the sedative and cause his execution to be "excruciating".
Unnecessary suffering and excruciating pain like the two girls you raped and killed, Richard? Or a different kind?
Hey, Ohio, if you're getting all squeamish about this at the last minute, I'll be glad to drive over and handle the job with 26 ounces of Estwingazine, administered intracranially. I might even feel a little bit bad about it afterward, which is more than Mr. Cooey can say.
(UPDATE: I really need to read Marko's blog before I post in the mornings...)
Unnecessary suffering and excruciating pain like the two girls you raped and killed, Richard? Or a different kind?
Hey, Ohio, if you're getting all squeamish about this at the last minute, I'll be glad to drive over and handle the job with 26 ounces of Estwingazine, administered intracranially. I might even feel a little bit bad about it afterward, which is more than Mr. Cooey can say.
(UPDATE: I really need to read Marko's blog before I post in the mornings...)
Overheard In Front Of The TeeWee...
Cubs/Astros game is in progress...
Gunsmith Bob: "Why are you rooting for the Cubs?"
Me: "I think the two teams I hate the most are Houston and the Mets."
GB: "Houston? Why Houston?"
Me: "I guess because of all those times the Braves had to play them in the postseason. They're The Enemy."
GB: "That's a weird reason to hate a team. I mean, any decent person would hate the Mets, but the Astros?"
Gunsmith Bob: "Why are you rooting for the Cubs?"
Me: "I think the two teams I hate the most are Houston and the Mets."
GB: "Houston? Why Houston?"
Me: "I guess because of all those times the Braves had to play them in the postseason. They're The Enemy."
GB: "That's a weird reason to hate a team. I mean, any decent person would hate the Mets, but the Astros?"
Monday, August 04, 2008
Outsmarted by Ronald McDonald.
Being a good parent is hard work and requires a bit of smarts, but every day some idiot goes out of their way to remind me that any old idiot can reproduce. Take some of the targets of the following CNN piece:
The supposed twenty-pound brain behind the CSPI study contributes some real gems:
There are those of us who are adults, capable of making our own bad dietary decisions, who actually liked the taste of salted french fries fresh out of the seething lard vat. Thanks to the whining, lawsuit-prone Cake-Eaters of America, our dining options have dwindled to next to nothing. Now they want to leverage their lack of control over their little hellspawn to neuter what's left of the menus at America's fast food joints.
If these people have their way, we're going to wind up having to put them in the Low-Cal Soylent Green vats, and who really wants that?
(H/T to Squeaky Wheel Seeks Grease.)
Study: Most kids' fast-food meals have too many caloriesFirst, let's examine the basic premise of the article: The hypothetical person in question, who has successfully swum upstream and spawned, is now inside a small restaurant, one of whose mascots is a cartoon dude with a giant double cheeseburger for a head, looking for a nutritious meal for their child. Even if you printed the instructions on the heel in large type, using monosyllabic words, this person would manage to keep the piss in the boot.
The supposed twenty-pound brain behind the CSPI study contributes some real gems:
"Parents want to feed their children healthy meals, but America's chain restaurants are setting parents up to fail," CSPI nutrition policy director Margo G. Wootan said in a statement. "McDonald's, Burger King, KFC, and other chains are conditioning kids to expect burgers, fried chicken, pizza, french fries, macaroni and cheese, and soda in various combination at almost every lunch and dinner."Look, first of all, if parents want to feed their kids granola, salad, and tofu, they can start by staying the hell out of restaurants that have "Fried" or "Burger" as part of their names. Second, it's not the restaurants that are conditioning the junior porkers to expect fat-fried lard with every meal, okay? It ain't the Hamburgler steering your minivan into the Mickey Dee's parking lot and swiping the credit card every time the little bundles of joy whine to have another McNugget-and-chocolate-sundae Happy Meal crammed into their pieholes.
There are those of us who are adults, capable of making our own bad dietary decisions, who actually liked the taste of salted french fries fresh out of the seething lard vat. Thanks to the whining, lawsuit-prone Cake-Eaters of America, our dining options have dwindled to next to nothing. Now they want to leverage their lack of control over their little hellspawn to neuter what's left of the menus at America's fast food joints.
If these people have their way, we're going to wind up having to put them in the Low-Cal Soylent Green vats, and who really wants that?
(H/T to Squeaky Wheel Seeks Grease.)
Overheard at the computer...
Gunsmith Bob: "Why does the Google search box say 'famous fruit hat'?"
Me: "I couldn't remember Carmen Miranda's name for the IMAX post. Check out the first search result."
Me: "I couldn't remember Carmen Miranda's name for the IMAX post. Check out the first search result."
Touching bases.
Dear Diary...
Had breakfast this morning at the Waffle House; steak & eggs, medium rare and up, hash browns scattered, smothered, covered, peppered and cooked crispy. My cholesterol had dropped to dangerously healthy levels since moving to big, flat, square, cold Yankeeland, but it's all better now. (What is it with the shapes of states? It's like once they got west of Ohio they lost their protractors and all they had left to draw maps with were straightedges...)
Stopped in at the Armory and said hi to most of the rest of the crew I'd missed on Saturday. Still haven't seen Dr. Strangegun yet, but I've got a couple days yet down here in the land of wilting humidity to get that done. Got to drool on some of the CCA 1911s, which were eminently drool-worthy. Melonite does not rust when drooled on, either.
More later...
Had breakfast this morning at the Waffle House; steak & eggs, medium rare and up, hash browns scattered, smothered, covered, peppered and cooked crispy. My cholesterol had dropped to dangerously healthy levels since moving to big, flat, square, cold Yankeeland, but it's all better now. (What is it with the shapes of states? It's like once they got west of Ohio they lost their protractors and all they had left to draw maps with were straightedges...)
Stopped in at the Armory and said hi to most of the rest of the crew I'd missed on Saturday. Still haven't seen Dr. Strangegun yet, but I've got a couple days yet down here in the land of wilting humidity to get that done. Got to drool on some of the CCA 1911s, which were eminently drool-worthy. Melonite does not rust when drooled on, either.
More later...
A change of heart?
For the five of you who haven't yet read it, Lissa of "Looking For Lissa" has a couple posts up about her gradual conversion from self-identified liberal to self-identified conservative. Interesting musings on how this relates to her relationships with family and friends and ponderings as to whether conservatism makes one heartless or less idealistic.
Learn something new every day.
I had no idea that they had trailer parks in France.
Meanwhile, that report wins the Clueless Comment of the Day Contest:
Meanwhile, that report wins the Clueless Comment of the Day Contest:
"In addition, officials say a 76-year-old man whose house was among those destroyed in Hautmont has killed himself, but they could not yet comment on his motive."Well, gosh, why ever would an older person who has just watched their entire life get demolished feel like ending it all? "That's okay, Pierre! Just put in another 76 years of hard work and you can replace everything!"
Today In History: Potpourri.
On this day in:
1790: The Revenue Cutter Service was formed. Obviously, sea-going tax cops were less than popular in America, so they added fishing drowning people out of the drink to their portfolio and changed their name to the U.S. Coast Guard.
1892: Lizzie Borden's parents came down with a mysterious fatal case of axeitis. Popery suspected.
1916: Liberia declares war on Germany.
1917: Germany notices.
1944: A Dutch collaborator finks out the Frank family to the Nazis.
1964: LBJ goes on TeeVee to complain about events that may or may not have occurred allegedly near the purported Gulf of Tonkin, on or about the last couple of days, and says we should bomb the crap out of North Vietnam.
1977: Jimmy Carter, figuring that lack of government is the reason that the economy's in the crapper and energy costs too much, signs into existence a whole new federal Department of Energy. Because more government always helps.
1790: The Revenue Cutter Service was formed. Obviously, sea-going tax cops were less than popular in America, so they added fishing drowning people out of the drink to their portfolio and changed their name to the U.S. Coast Guard.
1892: Lizzie Borden's parents came down with a mysterious fatal case of axeitis. Popery suspected.
1916: Liberia declares war on Germany.
1917: Germany notices.
1944: A Dutch collaborator finks out the Frank family to the Nazis.
1964: LBJ goes on TeeVee to complain about events that may or may not have occurred allegedly near the purported Gulf of Tonkin, on or about the last couple of days, and says we should bomb the crap out of North Vietnam.
1977: Jimmy Carter, figuring that lack of government is the reason that the economy's in the crapper and energy costs too much, signs into existence a whole new federal Department of Energy. Because more government always helps.
Knight thirty-three percent darker. More biff, pow.
1) For those who have never been in an IMAX theater, it's one of those places that could simultaneously trigger agoraphobia and acrophobia. Other places may claim "stadium seating" because one row of seats is four inches higher than the one in front of them, but in an IMAX theater, it's "Stadium" as in "the cheap seats at Yankee Ditto". The LA Lakers could sit in front of you and not block your view. Abe Lincoln and Carmen Miranda would not need to doff their chapeaux.
2) It's really immersive if you're sitting in the miraculously empty seats that are dead-center on the screen, halfway up. I'm serious; if you put a dot in the geometric center of the screen and extended an imaginary line from it back into the seating area, the imaginary line would have poked me in the real eyeball. This did wonders for all of the scenes that involved plunging off skyscrapers, and there are a lot of them. I get all squirmy and sweaty-palmed watching base jumping videos in YouTube thumbnails, so you can imagine my contortions when the camera POV is hurtling towards the ground on a screen on which you could park a small fleet of Greyhound buses.
3) There is a little repeating cue in the soundtrack that lets you know when something all psychotic and Joker-like is going to happen. It is noticeable in a regular theater. With a hundred jillion watts of Dolby Surround Sound handling the audio chores, it has the same effect on the base of your brain as the sound of rabbits in a trap, crying babies, and an asthmatic tiger in the bushes twenty feet away, all rolled into one.
4) Damn Heath Ledger for going and dying. I could have happily watched him reprise this role. He crafted the most chilling and compelling movie villain since Sir Tony Hopkins stood under those bright lights in an imaginary loony bin. The awful thing about Hollywood is that the kind of numbers this flick brings in trigger an atavistic response in the movie-making crowd. They will have to make a sequel, and they will try to find someone to do the Joker. For an idea of how bad that will suck, compare The Crow to The Crow II, City of Angels.
2) It's really immersive if you're sitting in the miraculously empty seats that are dead-center on the screen, halfway up. I'm serious; if you put a dot in the geometric center of the screen and extended an imaginary line from it back into the seating area, the imaginary line would have poked me in the real eyeball. This did wonders for all of the scenes that involved plunging off skyscrapers, and there are a lot of them. I get all squirmy and sweaty-palmed watching base jumping videos in YouTube thumbnails, so you can imagine my contortions when the camera POV is hurtling towards the ground on a screen on which you could park a small fleet of Greyhound buses.
3) There is a little repeating cue in the soundtrack that lets you know when something all psychotic and Joker-like is going to happen. It is noticeable in a regular theater. With a hundred jillion watts of Dolby Surround Sound handling the audio chores, it has the same effect on the base of your brain as the sound of rabbits in a trap, crying babies, and an asthmatic tiger in the bushes twenty feet away, all rolled into one.
4) Damn Heath Ledger for going and dying. I could have happily watched him reprise this role. He crafted the most chilling and compelling movie villain since Sir Tony Hopkins stood under those bright lights in an imaginary loony bin. The awful thing about Hollywood is that the kind of numbers this flick brings in trigger an atavistic response in the movie-making crowd. They will have to make a sequel, and they will try to find someone to do the Joker. For an idea of how bad that will suck, compare The Crow to The Crow II, City of Angels.
Sunday, August 03, 2008
The Knight will be Dark again tonight.
The plan is to see if Heath Ledger is even creepier in stunning IMAX.
If I had to bet, I'd say "yes".
Haven't ever seen an IMAX flick before. After-action report to follow...
If I had to bet, I'd say "yes".
Haven't ever seen an IMAX flick before. After-action report to follow...
Did you look under the bed, too?
"Whoops! We forgot to check under the sofa cushions!" says the CDC, upon discovering that a whole bunch more people had AIDS than they thought.
It's shake 'n' bake, and I helped!
My two main obstacles to cooking have always been living alone, and a short attention span. Coming home from work or the gun store late at night, with only me to feed, it's too easy to just toss something in the microwave or oven or a piece of meat in a frying pan. I also had a paranoid fear of doing anything complicated that would allow me to get distracted and walk away from the process after a few baking disasters in my much younger days. You know, you get all caught up in the good part of The Two Towers and the time just gets away from you and... what's that smell?
As he's threatened to do for years, Gunsmith Bob got me to commit some cookery in the kitchen yesterday. He's been swearing it wouldn't be hard, and indeed it wasn't. It was an easy thing to turn out a nice meal of parsleyed potatoes, baked salmon, and asparagus sauteed in butter & garlic. I did not cut myself, set anything on fire, or get distracted and wander off, allowing everything to cook to charcoal briquettes.
Seeing as how the only two kitchen items of which I usually ever make much use are the microwave and the frying pan, I'm immensely proud of myself. Plus, anything that involved massive amounts of butter, pepper, and garlic was bound to taste swell. I can hardly wait to get home and show off for my roommate! "Look! I can has asparagus! We can eat it every night now! Isn't this awesome?"
As he's threatened to do for years, Gunsmith Bob got me to commit some cookery in the kitchen yesterday. He's been swearing it wouldn't be hard, and indeed it wasn't. It was an easy thing to turn out a nice meal of parsleyed potatoes, baked salmon, and asparagus sauteed in butter & garlic. I did not cut myself, set anything on fire, or get distracted and wander off, allowing everything to cook to charcoal briquettes.
Seeing as how the only two kitchen items of which I usually ever make much use are the microwave and the frying pan, I'm immensely proud of myself. Plus, anything that involved massive amounts of butter, pepper, and garlic was bound to taste swell. I can hardly wait to get home and show off for my roommate! "Look! I can has asparagus! We can eat it every night now! Isn't this awesome?"
Saturday, August 02, 2008
All play and no work...
Of course, there's an ulterior motive for my trip, too. In addition to touching base with the crew at CCA and visiting some of my old haunts, I dragged my trusty laptop along. I've got three or four longer pieces for this blog rattling around, one for the Arms Room, and a small handful of blurbs for the folks at LEM, and maybe this will jar them loose.
The thing I want to talk about at the Arms Room is the nature of collecting military small arms and how time and demographics are changing the hobby. We're at a period of turnover, here; the generation that is now going into retirement is really only the second generation to collect breechloading military arms to any serious degree (before WWII, the idea of collecting 20th Century military arms was somewhat odd; collectors generally collected muzzleloaders) a lot of stuff that is considered rare and valuable on the market is rare and valuable because it disappeared into gun safes 40 and more years ago. Central and South American Mausers, for example, which have been overheated for almost a decade now, were snatched up in the 50s and 60s because they were the Mosin Nagants of their day; cheap, plentiful, and affordable on student's wages. Now we're seeing formerly rare Argentine and Venezuelan carbines coming out of hiding and on to dealer's tables. It will be interesting to see what this does to the market.
The thing I want to talk about at the Arms Room is the nature of collecting military small arms and how time and demographics are changing the hobby. We're at a period of turnover, here; the generation that is now going into retirement is really only the second generation to collect breechloading military arms to any serious degree (before WWII, the idea of collecting 20th Century military arms was somewhat odd; collectors generally collected muzzleloaders) a lot of stuff that is considered rare and valuable on the market is rare and valuable because it disappeared into gun safes 40 and more years ago. Central and South American Mausers, for example, which have been overheated for almost a decade now, were snatched up in the 50s and 60s because they were the Mosin Nagants of their day; cheap, plentiful, and affordable on student's wages. Now we're seeing formerly rare Argentine and Venezuelan carbines coming out of hiding and on to dealer's tables. It will be interesting to see what this does to the market.
On the road. Again.
Hello, y'all!
I'm posting this from sunny Knoxville, where I have gone to say howdy to old friends and make sure they haven't changed the city around too much in the past six months.
Which of course they have.
As in, they closed the major interstate (I-40) through the heart of downtown. Yeah, that's gotta be good for traffic. Luckily I got here a bit late for Friday night rush hour, since I got stuck in a traffic jam in Middleofnowhere, Kentucky. (People, when the sign says "Left Lane Closed 3.5 Miles Ahead", it does not mean that you should try and proceed past all the slow-moving traffic for 3.4999 miles and then dive to the right at the last minute. It's because of arseclowns like you that the traffic is moving slowly in the first place.)
I'm posting this from sunny Knoxville, where I have gone to say howdy to old friends and make sure they haven't changed the city around too much in the past six months.
Which of course they have.
As in, they closed the major interstate (I-40) through the heart of downtown. Yeah, that's gotta be good for traffic. Luckily I got here a bit late for Friday night rush hour, since I got stuck in a traffic jam in Middleofnowhere, Kentucky. (People, when the sign says "Left Lane Closed 3.5 Miles Ahead", it does not mean that you should try and proceed past all the slow-moving traffic for 3.4999 miles and then dive to the right at the last minute. It's because of arseclowns like you that the traffic is moving slowly in the first place.)
Friday, August 01, 2008
Reincarnation is probably just wishful thinking...
...but if it were true, you would have to live a very, very virtuous life indeed to come back as a pen-tailed tree shrew, hanging around in scenic rain forests and subsisting on an all-booze diet without ever having to worry about your trim, seven-ounce figure.
(H/T to reader RedneckInNY.)
(H/T to reader RedneckInNY.)
Be happy in your work.
Normally it's gratifying to see someone take pleasure in doing a thorough and workmanlike job. Except when their job is being a homicidal psychopath, then it's a little creepy.
Thank ghu that knives aren't illegal, because if this guy had been forced to ply his trade with a grapefruit spoon it just would have been worse for everyone all around.
(H/T to the Munchkin Wrangler.)
Thank ghu that knives aren't illegal, because if this guy had been forced to ply his trade with a grapefruit spoon it just would have been worse for everyone all around.
(H/T to the Munchkin Wrangler.)
A hockey dragon is eating the sun! Give me beer and I will make him spit it out!
Apparently, wogs and barbarians in distant foreign lands such as Mongolia, China, Russia, and Canada will be treated to a total eclipse of the sun today.
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