Friday, October 17, 2008
Overheard: "...no matter what we're doing."
So, at the end of the commercial for that weird little Bose clock/radio/CD thingummy is this enraptured couple extolling the virtues of the little audio device that has brought so much happiness into their otherwise drab existence:
She: "Whenever it comes on, we just start dancing..."
He: "...no matter what we're doing."
"No matter what we're doing"?!? This has led to a new long-running gag at Roseholme Cottage, based on speculation as to just what they might have to stop to get down with the Bose:
"...we just leap out of the cottage cheese bath and tango in the living room."
"...we drop the sheep and start to rhumba."
"...we throw down the chainsaws, she lets go of my leash, and we do the hustle."
"...we pay the clown, send him home, and waltz through the topiaries, without even wiping off the whipped cream first."
She: "Whenever it comes on, we just start dancing..."
He: "...no matter what we're doing."
"No matter what we're doing"?!? This has led to a new long-running gag at Roseholme Cottage, based on speculation as to just what they might have to stop to get down with the Bose:
"...we just leap out of the cottage cheese bath and tango in the living room."
"...we drop the sheep and start to rhumba."
"...we throw down the chainsaws, she lets go of my leash, and we do the hustle."
"...we pay the clown, send him home, and waltz through the topiaries, without even wiping off the whipped cream first."
Train up a child...
Xavier's Little Darling administers a low-key verbal beatdown to a Range Blowhard.
It'll warm the cockles of your heart. :)
It'll warm the cockles of your heart. :)
...now this is a knife.
Oleg has a pic up of some new knives from McCann Industries.
My go-to knife for the past six years has been a McCann Puffin Magnum, which is big enough to handle most chores without being too huge to keep on a belt with ease. Incidentally, mine is the very one Kim Breed tried to destroy in his review for Blade magazine, though you could never tell just by looking at it. O1 tool steel and tough as armor-plated nails...
(That deep belly on the blade will cut holy hell out of your finger, too, if you are grasping the kydex sheath like an idjit while drawing the knife. Ask me how I know. Also, super glue is good for closing cuts when you're many, many dirt-road miles away from civilization. Also, have an ER nurse in deer camp.)
My go-to knife for the past six years has been a McCann Puffin Magnum, which is big enough to handle most chores without being too huge to keep on a belt with ease. Incidentally, mine is the very one Kim Breed tried to destroy in his review for Blade magazine, though you could never tell just by looking at it. O1 tool steel and tough as armor-plated nails...
(That deep belly on the blade will cut holy hell out of your finger, too, if you are grasping the kydex sheath like an idjit while drawing the knife. Ask me how I know. Also, super glue is good for closing cuts when you're many, many dirt-road miles away from civilization. Also, have an ER nurse in deer camp.)
Free Legal Advice:
It can make your claim of justifiable homicide in self-defense look a little sketchy if you then decapitate your attacker and wander the aisles of the local Wally World holding his severed noggin.
Although, you know, if anyone's looking for a last-minute Halloween costume, all you'd need would be a sari, a cleaver, and a would-be rapist.
Although, you know, if anyone's looking for a last-minute Halloween costume, all you'd need would be a sari, a cleaver, and a would-be rapist.
Stingray on the economy:
Don't edit yourself, man; tell us how you really feel. (Hint: it involves fairly liberal use of the F-word out of sheer exasperation.)
Thursday, October 16, 2008
You say that like it's a bad thing.
Legacy Media giant and famous McNewspaper, USA Today, notes an uptick in righteous self-defense shootings of goblins and, for some unknown reason, gets all hand-wring-y about it.
SayUncle has the story on the story.
SayUncle has the story on the story.
That was easy. Next question?
Greg at West, By God wants to upgrade his totin' iron. He wants something that will share a caliber with Beth's sidearm and that she will find easy to operate.
Well, if she's carrying a Glock, then nothing would be easier for her to use than an identical Glock. Plus they could share magazines.
No agonizing decision required: Get a 9mm Glock just like hers.
There, wasn't that easy? :)
On a tangentially-related note, I've never understood situations where the "His'n'Hers" home defense shotguns are a 12ga Mossenberger 500 and a 20ga 870 Youth Model. Either she should train to the 12 gauge, or, if that's physically impossible, he should realize that it won't hurt his manhood to use a 20ga Remington. Same thing with folks who are all prepared for the Zombocalypse with a manly .308 M1A for him and a dainty little AR for her. Either one or the other would be fine, but it's awfully impractical to use both.
Well, if she's carrying a Glock, then nothing would be easier for her to use than an identical Glock. Plus they could share magazines.
No agonizing decision required: Get a 9mm Glock just like hers.
There, wasn't that easy? :)
On a tangentially-related note, I've never understood situations where the "His'n'Hers" home defense shotguns are a 12ga Mossenberger 500 and a 20ga 870 Youth Model. Either she should train to the 12 gauge, or, if that's physically impossible, he should realize that it won't hurt his manhood to use a 20ga Remington. Same thing with folks who are all prepared for the Zombocalypse with a manly .308 M1A for him and a dainty little AR for her. Either one or the other would be fine, but it's awfully impractical to use both.
Life's Great Mysteries, #437,196:
How come the most in-your-face activist proponents of open carry always have the crappiest holsters? Nothin' but Fobus and those godawful clip-on nylon sausage sacks with the spare magazine pouch sewn on the front of the holster. (If I had a dollar for every customer over the years who asked me "D'you got one o' them clip-on holsters with the spare clip pouch?", I'd retire rich. They always looked so crestfallen when I said that we didn't carry those and explained why.)
For heaven's sake, if you're going to show it off, at least spring for something made from a name-brand steak wrapper, if you're not willing to go all the way to stingray or sharkskin. (And that 1/2" wide thing from The Gap is not a pistol belt. That's why it's rolling over like that and causing your iron to flop about.)
For heaven's sake, if you're going to show it off, at least spring for something made from a name-brand steak wrapper, if you're not willing to go all the way to stingray or sharkskin. (And that 1/2" wide thing from The Gap is not a pistol belt. That's why it's rolling over like that and causing your iron to flop about.)
I know it's irrational...
I used to be a stone traditionalist when it came to the stocks on a Government Model. Only natural materials like wood or ivory needed apply. My stance has mellowed somewhat, though. I've come to terms with 1911 stocks made out of G10. Out of Micarta. Out of carbon fiber.
But I just can't do Alumagrips, sorry. You gotta draw the line someplace.
But I just can't do Alumagrips, sorry. You gotta draw the line someplace.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Feelin' ooky.
Hopefully I will get more chipper as the day goes on. It's not like I'm suffering for lack of things I need to do...
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Pomegranates are...
...like steamed artichokes and drawn butter. It's a long run for a short slide, but it's a helluva slide.
Speaking of long runs for short slides, would anybody spend time cracking open crab legs or lobster claws if there wasn't crab or lobster inside? I know I wouldn't spend time working over the grasper of an undersea arachnid if the payoff was oatmeal...
Speaking of long runs for short slides, would anybody spend time cracking open crab legs or lobster claws if there wasn't crab or lobster inside? I know I wouldn't spend time working over the grasper of an undersea arachnid if the payoff was oatmeal...
Everybody's worried about their portfolios...
... but since I'm pretty heavily invested in steel, walnut, brass, and lead, mine's actually looking pretty good, thanks.
Hey, S&W stock may have taken a pounding, but old Smiths themselves have been absolutely blue chip over the last five years. They've all performed well, and I could probably better than double my money on a few. Plus, have you ever tried to knock bowling pins off a table with a stock certificate?
Hey, S&W stock may have taken a pounding, but old Smiths themselves have been absolutely blue chip over the last five years. They've all performed well, and I could probably better than double my money on a few. Plus, have you ever tried to knock bowling pins off a table with a stock certificate?
...and now, the news.
This morning's Top Ten stories on CNN.com:
1. Fears of violence as economy tanks
"OMG! We're all gonna die! There's no hope! We need change!"
2. 'Bradley effect' could affect vote
"Don't be a racist. Vote for Obama. You don't want to feel like a racist, do you?"
3. GOP blasts stimulus measures
"Evil Republicans don't want to buy your vote!"
4. Army denies puppy return to U.S.
"Get the Army out of Iraq. With its puppies. Evil GOP!"
5. Polar bear slips into zoo moat
"Happy fluff."
6. Palin aides warned, report says
"Evil GOP!"
7. Leader breaks podium, gets laughs
"Silly foreigners."
8. McCain speaks out about Lewis
"Evil GOP!"
9. Mob mansion may hold more secrets
"Happy fluff."
10. Deadly wildfires rage across L.A.
"zomg we're all gonna die!"
*Sigh* Sometimes you wonder why you bother getting out of bed and re-entering a world full of idiots that are, for the most part, illegal to shoot.
1. Fears of violence as economy tanks
"OMG! We're all gonna die! There's no hope! We need change!"
2. 'Bradley effect' could affect vote
"Don't be a racist. Vote for Obama. You don't want to feel like a racist, do you?"
3. GOP blasts stimulus measures
"Evil Republicans don't want to buy your vote!"
4. Army denies puppy return to U.S.
"Get the Army out of Iraq. With its puppies. Evil GOP!"
5. Polar bear slips into zoo moat
"Happy fluff."
6. Palin aides warned, report says
"Evil GOP!"
7. Leader breaks podium, gets laughs
"Silly foreigners."
8. McCain speaks out about Lewis
"Evil GOP!"
9. Mob mansion may hold more secrets
"Happy fluff."
10. Deadly wildfires rage across L.A.
"zomg we're all gonna die!"
*Sigh* Sometimes you wonder why you bother getting out of bed and re-entering a world full of idiots that are, for the most part, illegal to shoot.
Monday, October 13, 2008
Random notes...
1) A splendiferous day. My friend came by and we rode the Monon, went to Taste for brunch, came back to Roseholme Cottage and watched the Jeff Cooper vidjo, and then he cooked a delicious dinner. The only thing that would have made it cooler is if a midget on a tricycle had ridden around the block a few times. On fire.
2) How come we get the low-grade Coca Cola here in America? Didn't we invent the stuff?
3) Got the other Mac playing tunes... "No More Tears" and Van Hagar's "Pound Cake"... That takes a girl back.
2) How come we get the low-grade Coca Cola here in America? Didn't we invent the stuff?
3) Got the other Mac playing tunes... "No More Tears" and Van Hagar's "Pound Cake"... That takes a girl back.
Tactical mustaches and sideburns...
I'm sitting here watching a cool DVD re-issue of Jeff Cooper's Defensive Pistolcraft video set. It was recorded at Orange Gunsite back in the day, which in this case means 1987.
Lots of mustachioed instructors, Jeff Cooper in the classroom and tooling around on the tactical trike, 2-tone 1911s with Bo-Mar low mounts.
It's interesting to see how much has changed (pure Weaver v. Modern Isosceles, tritium sights are a gadget, the old-schooldrawstroke presentation,) and how the basic principles remain the same, from "Front Sight, Press" to the Four Rules being presented in their natural habitat.
He hasn't said "rabbit people" yet, but we're only halfway through disc one, so I'm holding out hope.
Here's a sample: Vidjo.
Lots of mustachioed instructors, Jeff Cooper in the classroom and tooling around on the tactical trike, 2-tone 1911s with Bo-Mar low mounts.
It's interesting to see how much has changed (pure Weaver v. Modern Isosceles, tritium sights are a gadget, the old-school
He hasn't said "rabbit people" yet, but we're only halfway through disc one, so I'm holding out hope.
Here's a sample: Vidjo.
People shouldn't be so wishy-washy...
Courtesy of an old post at Dustbury is a link to an awesome rant on why one guy doesn't like modern cars:
Next problem of course, is the innability to just get a good honest car, they're all loaded to the gills with stupid doodads like Electronic Ashtray Position Sensors which will fail nanoseconds after the warranty expires, most likely at 2:30 AM, February 12, in Deliverance, Kentucky- immediately frying the "ECU", a completely useless device that forces the engine to reswallow it's own vomit time and time again so that factories that produce children's toys out of lead-coated asbestos can purchase "clean air credits", and do-gooder dumbass politicos can jump in their private jets and deliver a sermon to me about how I'm personally responsible for the extinction of the Brazilian Banded Aardvark because my '92 F150 burns a quart of oil every 1,000 miles.Don't hold back! Tell us what you really think, man...
I love to ride my bicycle!
I think I'll celebrate European Oppressor Day by going for a bicycle ride, and then cleaning guns. Perhaps I can find peaceful autochthones along the Monon to whom I can swap beads and trinkets for land deeds.
Oh, the huge manatee!
Dennis the roadtripping manatee shuffled off his mortal coil on the road outside of Orlando, Florida. I hope he had a good last roadtrip, at least. Maybe they got him some pecan logs at a Stuckey's and stopped to let him See Rock City.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Chores for today:
1) Mow the lawn so that ninjas, pirates, or killer space robots approaching the house will at least have to go prone, rather than being able to walk upright in the tallgrass prairie.
2) Organize reloading supplies.
3) Find all my ammunition and sort it. There are still a couple of big boxes chock full of ammo left unexcavated from the move, including all my ferschlugginer .32ACP, without which I can't fire my Colt 1903.
4) Contemplate removing the layer of road cack from the Zed Three.
2) Organize reloading supplies.
3) Find all my ammunition and sort it. There are still a couple of big boxes chock full of ammo left unexcavated from the move, including all my ferschlugginer .32ACP, without which I can't fire my Colt 1903.
4) Contemplate removing the layer of road cack from the Zed Three.
Big bore thunder...
TD gets ready to break out the big guns with some Eurometric chamberings. Makes me want a double in 9.3x74R really, really badly. Until then, my T/C Encore in .405 Winchester will have to do...
In what has rapidly become a weekend tradition...
...I'm sporting a blister on my trigger finger from several hundred rounds of double-action revolver work. Soon the callous there will return.
I shot a little over 100 rounds of .22LR through my Model 34, and put probably 200 rounds or more of .38 Spl downrange. Some of it was shot through my Model 64 snubbie, but the vast majority was fired through what is probably going to be my new pin gun: my pre-war 5" .38/44 Heavy Duty. I replaced the target stocks in the picture with linen micarta smooth combat stocks and a Tyler T-grip. Most of the ammo run through the gun was from the case of Federal 147gr +P+ Hydrashoks I have left sitting around, to see how it would handle and shoot with the kind of loads required for clearing a bowling pin off the table with anything like alacrity. I was pleased.
We met Brigid at the range, and she joined my friend and I for lunch at Rick's, and put pictures of the foray up at her blog. From there, my friend and I went off on a gun store crawl before returning to Broad Ripple for dinner at Sam's Gyros, and then to the theatre to see the new Ridley Scott flick, Body Of Lies, which is teh awesome. (When did Leonardo DiCaprio stop looking like Doogie Howser? He was all growed up and stuff in this movie, and very believable. BTW, am I the only one who thinks that if Caleb rocked a goatee there would be more than a slight resemblance?)
I shot a little over 100 rounds of .22LR through my Model 34, and put probably 200 rounds or more of .38 Spl downrange. Some of it was shot through my Model 64 snubbie, but the vast majority was fired through what is probably going to be my new pin gun: my pre-war 5" .38/44 Heavy Duty. I replaced the target stocks in the picture with linen micarta smooth combat stocks and a Tyler T-grip. Most of the ammo run through the gun was from the case of Federal 147gr +P+ Hydrashoks I have left sitting around, to see how it would handle and shoot with the kind of loads required for clearing a bowling pin off the table with anything like alacrity. I was pleased.
We met Brigid at the range, and she joined my friend and I for lunch at Rick's, and put pictures of the foray up at her blog. From there, my friend and I went off on a gun store crawl before returning to Broad Ripple for dinner at Sam's Gyros, and then to the theatre to see the new Ridley Scott flick, Body Of Lies, which is teh awesome. (When did Leonardo DiCaprio stop looking like Doogie Howser? He was all growed up and stuff in this movie, and very believable. BTW, am I the only one who thinks that if Caleb rocked a goatee there would be more than a slight resemblance?)
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Inventorying for the coming zombocalypse...
Let's see, we have dies in .44 Spl/Mag, .38 Spl/.357 Mag, 11mm Mauser, .405 Win, .303 Brit, .30-40 Krag, 6.5 Swede, 6.5 Jap, 6.5 Mannlicher-Schoenauer, and .22 Remington Jet. We have at least a few hundred bullets in .429", 411", .357", .312", .308", 264", .224", and .222". Several pounds of various powders, a few thousand assorted primers...
I need to lay in dies for 9mm and .45ACP, as well as .223. I should probably lay in a complete swatch of loading supplies for .32 S&W Long; cheap to load and cheap to shoot. If I'm actually going to start reloading rifle cases, rather than just talking about it, I need a good case trimmer. I need a good tumbler. I need to teach my roommate.
EDIT: Just rummaging around to go to the range this morning and realized another must-have: .44-40 dies. Gotta keep my Model 544 fed.
I need to lay in dies for 9mm and .45ACP, as well as .223. I should probably lay in a complete swatch of loading supplies for .32 S&W Long; cheap to load and cheap to shoot. If I'm actually going to start reloading rifle cases, rather than just talking about it, I need a good case trimmer. I need a good tumbler. I need to teach my roommate.
EDIT: Just rummaging around to go to the range this morning and realized another must-have: .44-40 dies. Gotta keep my Model 544 fed.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Wow.
This just in from the Ministry of Irony:
In a Mark Morford column containing the following breathless claim about Barry O...
(Yeah, I know my monthly trip to go see what asshattery Morford's up to now will eventually cause me to stroke out, but I'm addicted to the "irritainment", as MattG so cleverly termed it.)
In a Mark Morford column containing the following breathless claim about Barry O...
Because the truth is, the notion of an Obama presidency yields many gifts. Foremost: a refreshed intellectual climate, a far higher quality of basic discourse. Squinting and bumbling and "is our children learning" are out, articulation and oratory nuance are in. Out: aw-shucks "go with my gut" Joe Six-pack pseudo-cowboy Jesus-says. In: thoughtfulness, polysyllabic words, sentences with complicated construction and meaning....we find the following set of phrases broken on the wheel of tortured sentence structure:
No longer will it be tolerable when chatting up a sweet young thing or an older tasty thing at a bar or fetish dungeon or Whole Foods cheese aisle and casually toss in a reference to Obama's solar initiative or the multifaceted cultural upheaval happening in China or India, to watch his eyes glaze over as he shrugs and stares at his shoes and mumbles something about getting baked while lubing his skateboard and watching Xtreme Motocross on ESPN2.Sweet zombie Jesus! Physician, heal thyself.
(Yeah, I know my monthly trip to go see what asshattery Morford's up to now will eventually cause me to stroke out, but I'm addicted to the "irritainment", as MattG so cleverly termed it.)
Clowns: Pugsley, si! Ronald, no!
The jowly, super-sized Che-wannabe, who looks like he's sampled a few Big Macs in his time, goes after The Evil Golden Arches of Hegemonic Yanqui Capitalism.
Definitions for the terminally unhip:
Let me field a couple of questions recently asked by those of you who are not total online nerds and actually have things to do in real life:
- "What does 'zomg' mean?" Well, when you see "OMG!" on teh intarw3bz, it means "Oh My God!" Internet lore says that "zomg" comes from someone trying to type "OMG", but missing the Shift key with their left pinky and hitting "z" instead. Hence, "zomg". If you are nerdy enough for netspeak to creep into your spoken vocabulary, it is pronounced "zōmĭgŏd".
- "What's with the '!!!!1!!!1!one!!!'?" Another net joke stemming from a missed shift key. If someone was really carried away when trying to put a string of exclamation points after something, say in an internet argument, their finger might bounce off of the shift key for a keystroke or two, causing a numeral "1" to be inserted in the string of punctuation. The spelling out of "one" in the middle of the string is intended to indicate extreme hyperbole.
Random musing on identity politics...
I will be so happy when everyone on earth is a sort of medium-beige, Tiger Woods-y hue so that we can stop worrying about race and unite to persecute those sinister left-handers.
Wait...
Wait...
Movie Day at Roseholme...
Went with Roomie yesterday afternoon to see the matinee showing of An American Carol down at Circle Centre.
Not too bombastic, surprisingly funny, and worth the price of admission for the unexpected zombie scene alone.
(The reviews gathered here are priceless:
Not too bombastic, surprisingly funny, and worth the price of admission for the unexpected zombie scene alone.
(The reviews gathered here are priceless:
Parents need to know that this independent comedy from one of the directors of Airplane! is designed to articulate politically conservative ideas...Yeah. Bundle the little tykes off to see something wholesome, like Saw XLVII, instead. This is me, rolling my eyes.)
Magical thinking...
Xavier has a post up about the murder of young, free-spirited Kirsten Brydum. Kirsten was on a sort of wanderjahr; couch-surfing, free-storing, and dumpster-diving her way across America. Her trail took her through New Orleans which, while no longer the Mad Max world it was in the immediate aftermath of Katrina, is still far worse than it used to be last time I drove through, and it was bad enough then.
I'd say that there are neighborhoods in every city where one does not go, but that wouldn't be entirely correct. I have lived in some of those neighborhoods in Atlanta; people obviously go there. It would be more accurate to state that there are neighborhoods where one does not want to be lost, an outsider, out of place, uncertain. To do those things in those neighborhoods, especially at oh-dark-thirty in the A.M. marks one, as certainly as if there were a neon sign over one's head, as a resource, a victim, a prey animal for the predators that glide through the city's nighttime reefs.
Kirstin did that, and the result was depressingly predictable.
What is fascinating is the comment thread at Xavier's, where some have stopped in to express their belief that Kirsten was somehow targetted by the CIA or some nefarious member of Blackwater hit squads that populate the imaginations of folks who have forgotten to double-layer their Reynold's Wrap yarmulkes.
Let me get this straight; an unarmed, lost, young out-of-town woman gets killed in one of the most dangerous neighborhoods of a dangerous city, and some folks want to say it was Blackwater or the CIA?
Folks, when you hear hoofbeats rounding the last turn at Preakness, do you look for zebras?
I'd say that there are neighborhoods in every city where one does not go, but that wouldn't be entirely correct. I have lived in some of those neighborhoods in Atlanta; people obviously go there. It would be more accurate to state that there are neighborhoods where one does not want to be lost, an outsider, out of place, uncertain. To do those things in those neighborhoods, especially at oh-dark-thirty in the A.M. marks one, as certainly as if there were a neon sign over one's head, as a resource, a victim, a prey animal for the predators that glide through the city's nighttime reefs.
Kirstin did that, and the result was depressingly predictable.
What is fascinating is the comment thread at Xavier's, where some have stopped in to express their belief that Kirsten was somehow targetted by the CIA or some nefarious member of Blackwater hit squads that populate the imaginations of folks who have forgotten to double-layer their Reynold's Wrap yarmulkes.
Let me get this straight; an unarmed, lost, young out-of-town woman gets killed in one of the most dangerous neighborhoods of a dangerous city, and some folks want to say it was Blackwater or the CIA?
Folks, when you hear hoofbeats rounding the last turn at Preakness, do you look for zebras?
If I didn't know better...
...I'd think that the legacy media was trying to stir up a depression, just to have something juicy to report.
EDIT: Another primer on zomg we're all gonna die!!!
EDIT: Another primer on zomg we're all gonna die!!!
Thursday, October 09, 2008
Oo-ooh, that smell! Can't you smell that smell?
The smell of corruption, that is.
Here in sunny Marion County, where the county clerk is about to be investigated for voter fraud, we have 105% of our eligible voters all registered to vote!
Awesome!
From the legacy media on down to your block captain, the fix is in on this one, kids. With McCain apparently trying about as hard to win as the 1919 White Sox, I'm starting to get a'feared that I know who my next President is going to be.
Here in sunny Marion County, where the county clerk is about to be investigated for voter fraud, we have 105% of our eligible voters all registered to vote!
Awesome!
From the legacy media on down to your block captain, the fix is in on this one, kids. With McCain apparently trying about as hard to win as the 1919 White Sox, I'm starting to get a'feared that I know who my next President is going to be.
Today In History: "Your car was hit by what?"
On this date in 1992, an insurance adjuster no doubt had his work cut out for him when the Knapps called to report that their 1980 Chevy Malibu had been hit while parked in their driveway.
By a rock.
From outer space.
By a rock.
From outer space.
A Klansman under every bed.
A True Believer can contextualize any utterance, no matter how innocuous, in terms of their particular worldview. What sounds to you and I like normal conversation is, for them, a complex structure of code words and shibboleths. Some people live in such exciting worlds.
(H/T to tgirsch at Unc's.)
Sometimes guns blow up...
A bone-stock Remington 770 in .270Win, shooting factory Remington ammunition, managed to demolish the last foot or so of barrel. Apparently the young man firing it had purchased rifle and ammo together, taken it to the range without so much as cleaning it first, and on its second shot ever, the gun grenaded.
Bore obstruction? Nope, else it would have detonated on the first shot. Squib? Apparently not; by all accounts the first shot sounded and felt normal. Probably just a fluke bad gun. It happens. Remington should buy him a new one and send him a nice letter and some ammo, and they'll probably have a happy customer.
An interesting internet phenomenon is to be found in the comments at the YouTube video. Just like on the gun boards, note all the people who come out and froth "I has a Remminton770 in .300 ought 6 and I shot 30000 shots through it and aint nevr nothign happend your a lire!"
Relax, Sparky, the guy wasn't saying anything about your gun. I'm sure yours is the bestest gun in the world.
Bore obstruction? Nope, else it would have detonated on the first shot. Squib? Apparently not; by all accounts the first shot sounded and felt normal. Probably just a fluke bad gun. It happens. Remington should buy him a new one and send him a nice letter and some ammo, and they'll probably have a happy customer.
An interesting internet phenomenon is to be found in the comments at the YouTube video. Just like on the gun boards, note all the people who come out and froth "I has a Remminton770 in .300 ought 6 and I shot 30000 shots through it and aint nevr nothign happend your a lire!"
Relax, Sparky, the guy wasn't saying anything about your gun. I'm sure yours is the bestest gun in the world.
Meanwhile, in the People's Collective of Chicago...
...homeland of Lord Obama, the good Sheriff has told the mean bourgeoisie bankers that he will not be doing foreclosures on rental properties.
Power to the people!
Power to the people!
Wednesday, October 08, 2008
It ain't from the Food Pixies...
Would you like to know how the food magically gets to your table? Farmer Frank has been documenting the joys of the harvest season.
(Incidentally, driving past billiard-table-flat, harvested fields to get to Wildcat Valley last weekend triggered this Appalachian gal's agoraphobia something fierce...
"OMG! Where's the horizon?"
"Over there somewhere."
"That's not a horizon! The earth just drops away! A horizon is something like a tree line or a hill or a building!")
(Incidentally, driving past billiard-table-flat, harvested fields to get to Wildcat Valley last weekend triggered this Appalachian gal's agoraphobia something fierce...
"OMG! Where's the horizon?"
"Over there somewhere."
"That's not a horizon! The earth just drops away! A horizon is something like a tree line or a hill or a building!")
Isn't it supposed to be ironic...
...don't you think? A little bit ironic? Yeah, I really do think.
And yet I find Weird Al's "Trigger Happy" to be just a fun, toe-tapping ditty.
You'd better watch out, punk!
And yet I find Weird Al's "Trigger Happy" to be just a fun, toe-tapping ditty.
You'd better watch out, punk!
HA!
Awesomest t-shirt evar! Order one now as a Christmas present for your IPSC and IDPA friends.
Bonus!: The Finnish version, which reads "Cardboard is Evil".
Bonus!: The Finnish version, which reads "Cardboard is Evil".
In case you haven't got your USRDA of doom'n'gloom today:
Syd waxes a little hyperbolic. I wish it was a lot hyperbolic, but it's not; it's way closer to unvarnished than I'd like. (H/T to Kevin for pointing me there this Ay-Em)
Meanwhile, Lead and Gold has a link up to a fascinating .pdf transcript from Ira Glass's This American Life, which is often the only thing worth listening to on NPR other than Click and Clack, the Tappet Brothers. It is a very clearly detailed flowchart of how dumb home loans in Cali wound up wrecking banks in Europe.
Meanwhile, Lead and Gold has a link up to a fascinating .pdf transcript from Ira Glass's This American Life, which is often the only thing worth listening to on NPR other than Click and Clack, the Tappet Brothers. It is a very clearly detailed flowchart of how dumb home loans in Cali wound up wrecking banks in Europe.
Why they loved the B-17...
This one took a direct flak hit over Köln, Germany that blew the nose off the plane and killed the bombardier. The pilot brought it safely back some 400 miles to its base in England, fighting what must have been a heck of a built-in headwind the whole way.
You might need to eat less...
...if someone else has to bring you the food because you can no longer heave your bulk out of bed.
Look, I think the culture is a little over-obsessed with thin. After I reached a certain age, and my metabolism would no longer allow me to down a whole pizza with impunity while the needle on the scale stayed motionless, I decided that I'd much rather give up Size 6 than give up steak and beer. But there comes a point where it's unhealthy, you know? And that point is somewhere long before you're immobile in bed and paramedics have to take a wall out of the house to load you into a pickup truck.
The worst part about the story is that he'd been bedridden for four months. That meant that for four months he had someone bringing him the Twinkies and Coca Cola; an unindicted co-conspirator, if you will.
Look, I think the culture is a little over-obsessed with thin. After I reached a certain age, and my metabolism would no longer allow me to down a whole pizza with impunity while the needle on the scale stayed motionless, I decided that I'd much rather give up Size 6 than give up steak and beer. But there comes a point where it's unhealthy, you know? And that point is somewhere long before you're immobile in bed and paramedics have to take a wall out of the house to load you into a pickup truck.
The worst part about the story is that he'd been bedridden for four months. That meant that for four months he had someone bringing him the Twinkies and Coca Cola; an unindicted co-conspirator, if you will.
Tuesday, October 07, 2008
Happy 1st Blogiversary to...
...my Roomie. Go congratulamate her!
(I'm feeling guilty because I totally spaced linking Breda's celebratory post last Wed. I can't forget to listen to the Gun Nuts: TNG show tonight, either. Only an hour away... )
(I'm feeling guilty because I totally spaced linking Breda's celebratory post last Wed. I can't forget to listen to the Gun Nuts: TNG show tonight, either. Only an hour away... )
Out for a bit...
I have an errand to run at Beech Grove Firearms, across the street from the Vast FEMA Extermination Camp (*snicker*). If I don't make it back, send the internet commandos.
"zomg teh barb wire points inwards!!!!1!1!!one!"
(PS: If you really believe that the Amtrak facility in Beech Grove is a "FEMA Extermination Camp", you are obviously barely multicelled and dumber than jello. Grownups are chatting here, so please don't drool in the comments section.)
EDIT: Bonus!
EDIT II: And can anyone guess why barbed wire points inward almost everywhere these days, including the Amtrak facility? Class? That's right. Lawyers. Because when Seth & Jared go to climb the fence so they can spray paint "Jared luvs Tifani 4evar" on the dining car, and the barbed wire is pointing out, if they try to climb over, they fall, break something, and then Mommy and Daddy sue the crap out of Amtrak, the fence maker, and whoever poured the concrete for the sidewalk. Whereas if it points inwards, they usually just give it up for a bad idea and climb back down, or get their Abercrombie & Fitch baggy drawers all snarled up in the barbed wire until the mall ninjas come out in the golf cart to help them down and call the police.
As anyone who's ever driven past a real jail or prison or maximum security site knows, nobody uses three strands of barbed wire if they're serious about keeping people out anyway. They use razor wire a la concertina.
"zomg teh barb wire points inwards!!!!1!1!!one!"
(PS: If you really believe that the Amtrak facility in Beech Grove is a "FEMA Extermination Camp", you are obviously barely multicelled and dumber than jello. Grownups are chatting here, so please don't drool in the comments section.)
EDIT: Bonus!
EDIT II: And can anyone guess why barbed wire points inward almost everywhere these days, including the Amtrak facility? Class? That's right. Lawyers. Because when Seth & Jared go to climb the fence so they can spray paint "Jared luvs Tifani 4evar" on the dining car, and the barbed wire is pointing out, if they try to climb over, they fall, break something, and then Mommy and Daddy sue the crap out of Amtrak, the fence maker, and whoever poured the concrete for the sidewalk. Whereas if it points inwards, they usually just give it up for a bad idea and climb back down, or get their Abercrombie & Fitch baggy drawers all snarled up in the barbed wire until the mall ninjas come out in the golf cart to help them down and call the police.
As anyone who's ever driven past a real jail or prison or maximum security site knows, nobody uses three strands of barbed wire if they're serious about keeping people out anyway. They use razor wire a la concertina.
Ignorance to take your breath away...
The comment thread here at Boing Boing is simply stunning in its ignorance. Watch as a bunch of people who took "Social Studies" instead of "AmGov 101"and who wouldn't know a platoon from a platypus discuss the Coming Martial Law Of The Evil George Bush! And how to fight it!
The uprising of the unarmed hippie ignorami! It's awesome. Really!
How do people this dumb stay alive? You'd think they'd be dropping dead left and right from driving off cliffs while text-messaging or forgetting to breathe while setting their entertainment centers to TiVo Dancing With The Stars.
(And to the guys way off to my right who are going on about the 1st BCT's current rotation, you are aware that it is a BRIGADE Combat Team, right? How many divisions did the Army use in Baghdad? And they're going to do Operation Garden Plot with one BCT? Pass the bong, dude, 'cause I want some of that.)
(H/T to Unc.)
The uprising of the unarmed hippie ignorami! It's awesome. Really!
How do people this dumb stay alive? You'd think they'd be dropping dead left and right from driving off cliffs while text-messaging or forgetting to breathe while setting their entertainment centers to TiVo Dancing With The Stars.
(And to the guys way off to my right who are going on about the 1st BCT's current rotation, you are aware that it is a BRIGADE Combat Team, right? How many divisions did the Army use in Baghdad? And they're going to do Operation Garden Plot with one BCT? Pass the bong, dude, 'cause I want some of that.)
(H/T to Unc.)
The Plan Is Working:
After bombarding her with "We're All Gonna Die!" financial news round the clock for months, the media stuck a mic in the face of an underemployed Georgia woman and she burst into tears.
Unfortunately, she did not punch the reporter or anything.
Panicked people, however, tend to vote for Hopeychangey.
Unfortunately, she did not punch the reporter or anything.
Panicked people, however, tend to vote for Hopeychangey.
I blame George Bush.
Karthik Rajaram, an unemployed MBA in Cali, went off his nut and shot his whole family and himself yesterday after George Bush stole his self esteem. Deputy Chief of Police Michel Moore (I'm not making that part up. ed.) said:
This is why you should vote for Lord Obama this November, so that nothing bad like this will ever happen again.
Thus saith CNN.
"This is a perfect American family behind me that has absolutely been destroyed, apparently because of a man who just got stuck in a rabbit hole, if you will, of absolute despair, somehow working his way into believing this to be an acceptable exit."The nation's Chief Executive was seen on the security cameras of the gated community fleeing the man's dwelling with a sack over his shoulder that was believed to contain Rajaram's self-esteem. Accompanying him was his evil sidekick Dick Cheney, with an unidentified bundle that could have been Karthik's employment opportunities.
This is why you should vote for Lord Obama this November, so that nothing bad like this will ever happen again.
Thus saith CNN.
Today In History: Piracy, plain and simple.
On this day in 1985, noble peace-loving freedom fighters of the PLO hijacked the cruise liner Achille Lauro. They then demonstrated how tough and resolute they were by shooting a wheelchair-bound senior citizen.
For some reason, not one of the hijackers ended up decorating a yardarm.
For some reason, not one of the hijackers ended up decorating a yardarm.
Monday, October 06, 2008
Wall Street sneezes...
...Yuropeens catch a cold.
In other, tangentially-related, news, given the volume I've been shooting recently, it's time and past time to get the reloading press set up at home. Copper, tin, and lead are getting too expensive to purchase in their pre-assembled form.
In other, tangentially-related, news, given the volume I've been shooting recently, it's time and past time to get the reloading press set up at home. Copper, tin, and lead are getting too expensive to purchase in their pre-assembled form.
I don't get it. Will someone please explain it to me?
So, all the liberals out there in voterland absolutely hated the Bailout Bill because it was rewarding greedy Wall Street capitalists for all their corporating and speculating and oppressing, and doing it on the backs of the taxpayer.
And all the conservatives out there in voterland absolutely hated the bailout bill because it was socialist and meddled in the marketplace and propped up businesses that should have become fodder for the scavengers.
So, if Pinko Liberal America didn't like it, and NASCAR-'n'-Jesus America didn't like it, who did like it? (I mean, other than a bunch of scoundrels and scalawags in Washington who are apparently not even pretending to represent the will of their constituents anymore...)
Recall Them All.
And all the conservatives out there in voterland absolutely hated the bailout bill because it was socialist and meddled in the marketplace and propped up businesses that should have become fodder for the scavengers.
So, if Pinko Liberal America didn't like it, and NASCAR-'n'-Jesus America didn't like it, who did like it? (I mean, other than a bunch of scoundrels and scalawags in Washington who are apparently not even pretending to represent the will of their constituents anymore...)
Recall Them All.
Ballistic art...
Back in the day, when I worked at the gun shoppe in Georgia, we came up with an idea to explain various hollowpoint rounds to customers. At my boss's house, we filled a big ol' plastic chemical drum with water and fired down into it from his deck using various calibers and brands of ammunition. At the end of a session, you would dump out the water and recover your now-expanded bullets from the bottom of the barrel.
No handgun bullet we were using (not even IMI/Samson .50AE JHP from the notorious Deagle) would damage the bottom of the barrel after traversing more than three feet of H2O. A 240gr HydraShok fired from a 16" Marlin .44 Magnum carbine, on the other hand, displaced a good deal of water some fifteen feet vertically, tipped the barrel over from the resultant sloshing, and did, in fact, nick the bottom after shedding its jacket and the "petals" of lead from the hollowpoint cavity.
The "blossomed" hollowpoints were very popular conversation pieces on the counter at the store, and tended to grow legs and wander off, especially the highly photogenic (and very pointy) Winchester "Black Talons". To my knowledge, however, none wound up being used in such a clever and artistic fashion.
(Via Greg via Unc.)
No handgun bullet we were using (not even IMI/Samson .50AE JHP from the notorious Deagle) would damage the bottom of the barrel after traversing more than three feet of H2O. A 240gr HydraShok fired from a 16" Marlin .44 Magnum carbine, on the other hand, displaced a good deal of water some fifteen feet vertically, tipped the barrel over from the resultant sloshing, and did, in fact, nick the bottom after shedding its jacket and the "petals" of lead from the hollowpoint cavity.
The "blossomed" hollowpoints were very popular conversation pieces on the counter at the store, and tended to grow legs and wander off, especially the highly photogenic (and very pointy) Winchester "Black Talons". To my knowledge, however, none wound up being used in such a clever and artistic fashion.
(Via Greg via Unc.)
Rare bird.
What to buy the Mosin-Nagant geek who has everything: A Finnish 28/76.
EDIT: Looks like Empire Arms ran out or took down the page or something. Here's a thread at Gunboards.com on the 28/76.
EDIT: Looks like Empire Arms ran out or took down the page or something. Here's a thread at Gunboards.com on the 28/76.
There's big and then there's big.
When I moved to Indy, I heard someone mention something about it being the "13th largest city in the US". So I checked, and lo and behold, it was so.
But wait... Is that list accurate? Because Atlanta's at, like, number thirty-three, and I've lived both places; you could lose Indy in Metro Atlanta... Ah, that's right: Metro Atlanta. Atlanta is a donut city; the city itself is actually fairly small, geographically, and consists mostly of business districts interspersed with single-family dwellings, and is surrounded by vast, uncounted miles of paved suburban hell, teeming with office buildings, industrial parks, malls, and commuters. The Atlanta-Marietta-Sandy Springs Metro Area recently passed Boston, according to the U.S. Census Bureau. In Indy, comparatively speaking, you're not that far outside I-465 before the cornfields start. Which is kinda nice, actually. I live in a fairly urban and cosmopolitan neighborhood, and if I head west on 56th street, I'm to an outdoor pistol range in a city park in less than 30 minutes, and a mile or so past that, I see my first grain elevators.
But wait... Is that list accurate? Because Atlanta's at, like, number thirty-three, and I've lived both places; you could lose Indy in Metro Atlanta... Ah, that's right: Metro Atlanta. Atlanta is a donut city; the city itself is actually fairly small, geographically, and consists mostly of business districts interspersed with single-family dwellings, and is surrounded by vast, uncounted miles of paved suburban hell, teeming with office buildings, industrial parks, malls, and commuters. The Atlanta-Marietta-Sandy Springs Metro Area recently passed Boston, according to the U.S. Census Bureau. In Indy, comparatively speaking, you're not that far outside I-465 before the cornfields start. Which is kinda nice, actually. I live in a fairly urban and cosmopolitan neighborhood, and if I head west on 56th street, I'm to an outdoor pistol range in a city park in less than 30 minutes, and a mile or so past that, I see my first grain elevators.
Interesting statistic, but...
"Homeless Families" are a lot more sympathetic characters than regular bums; it's one thing to lose control of your circumstances so badly that you wind up drinking Aqua Velva while living out of a shopping cart behind the Greyhound station, and another thing altogether when you have your spouse and kids in the cart with you.
This article goes into the plight of homeless families in the Greater Boston S.S.R., but remains sketchy on the definition of "family", leaving one to envision whole Brady Bunches of little bindlestiffs clogging the freeway underpasses and Motel Sixes of the Bay State.
This article goes into the plight of homeless families in the Greater Boston S.S.R., but remains sketchy on the definition of "family", leaving one to envision whole Brady Bunches of little bindlestiffs clogging the freeway underpasses and Motel Sixes of the Bay State.
Sunday, October 05, 2008
MMmmmmm...!!!
After shooting today (more on which later) I went with my friend to Scotty's Brewhouse in West Lafayette and had the most awesomest appetizer evar: Deep-fried dill pickle slices with horseradish sauce for dippin'. Crack cocaine pales in the addictiveness department by comparison...
Nuke-yoo-lar frisson.
LabRat tees off on the folks who can't stand it when someone pronounces it "nuke-yoo-lar", unless that someone is a Democrat.
Today In History: Great Ball of Fire.
On this date in 1930, the British commercial airship R101 augered into a ridge line in France and burst into the kind of fireball that can only be created by a few jillion cubic feet of hydrogen and thousands of liters of diesel fuel.
Intensive investigation into the causes of the accident revealed that the main culprit was that a balloon full of hydrogen and diesel fuel had been launched into the air, and what followed was pretty much the inevitable result.
Intensive investigation into the causes of the accident revealed that the main culprit was that a balloon full of hydrogen and diesel fuel had been launched into the air, and what followed was pretty much the inevitable result.
"Safari on the Cheap", a re-run.
A re-run from May of '06:
I'm getting a barrel for my Encore chambered in .405 Winchester so I can have lion-hunting fantasies. Not, of course, that I will ever have the money or leisure time to go on safari for the King of the Beasts, but one can daydream. Or maybe organize a cheap substitute here in town...
Like I said, one can daydream... :)
I'm getting a barrel for my Encore chambered in .405 Winchester so I can have lion-hunting fantasies. Not, of course, that I will ever have the money or leisure time to go on safari for the King of the Beasts, but one can daydream. Or maybe organize a cheap substitute here in town...
"Dear Diary: Day three of the safari. After a quick breakfast of Tabasco Slim Jims and Diet Mountain Dew, my trusty native guide, Fred, has maneuvered me into an excellent position for the culmination of my trip, the confrontation with Simba. Careful not to spook the skittish herds of preschoolers, which would alert the lion to my presence, I ease around the concession stand. The cloying stench of cotton candy fills my nostrils..."
Like I said, one can daydream... :)
Curses, foiled again!
So, the po-po had to requalify this weekend, which resulted in the gates at Eagle Creek being locked for us mere civilians yesterday. Instead, we did the gun shop crawl on the west side of town. We wound up the afternoon on the patio at the Brew Pub, where I was schooled at learned how to play Chinese Chess.
A second attempt at powder-burning will be made today at a different location. My trigger finger is itchy, and I want to shoot some steel.
A second attempt at powder-burning will be made today at a different location. My trigger finger is itchy, and I want to shoot some steel.
Lovin' an elevator...
"80,000th floor: Hardware, Astronautwear, solar power satellites. Oh, good morning, Mr. Sheffield! Going... down?"
Scientists are kicking around the beanstalk concept again, this time with NanoTubes™!
Scientists are kicking around the beanstalk concept again, this time with NanoTubes™!
Saturday, October 04, 2008
The natives are reluctant...
The next time you're at a soiree and someone starts up about their last vacation to France or Italy and how they shunned the "tourist-y stuff" and "saw it like a native", invite them to dinner at Waffle House and a minor league baseball or high school football game.
How come people who are so pleased to think that they might have seen another country "like a native" are so willing, or even proud, to spend their whole lives as a tourist in their own?
How come people who are so pleased to think that they might have seen another country "like a native" are so willing, or even proud, to spend their whole lives as a tourist in their own?
Friday, October 03, 2008
I'm not as cool as Caleb...
Hi-Speed Lo-Drag Caleb is going to be smoking A-Zones in IDPA ESP class at Atlanta Conservation Club tomorrow.
Mundane shooters such as myself (and, hopefully, RobertaX) will be punching paper at Eagle Creek in the AM, in preparation for next month's bowling pin match.
I'll be shooting my 2" Model 64 and my old Kit Gun to work on my DA revolver skillz, and I'll put fifty or so rounds through my Radom because... well, because I can.
Mundane shooters such as myself (and, hopefully, RobertaX) will be punching paper at Eagle Creek in the AM, in preparation for next month's bowling pin match.
I'll be shooting my 2" Model 64 and my old Kit Gun to work on my DA revolver skillz, and I'll put fifty or so rounds through my Radom because... well, because I can.
AmGov 101, or The Ignorant American.
So there's a discussion brewing at The Munchkin Wrangler about the Electoral College and the Popular Vote, and it has once again reminded me of how woefully uneducated the average American is as to just how the country they live in works.
Here's a question: Where in the Constitution does it specify how you get to vote for the President?
If you answered "It doesn't." then, Hooray! Brownie points for you!
That's right, nowhere in the Constitution is there any mention of a popular vote for the office of the President. It does specify that the several States send electors, but there is no mention of primaries or parties or popular elections or any of the folderol we have come to take for granted as part of the electoral process. This election cycle, New York could decide to sell lottery tickets to determine who their electors will be, and Mississippi could draw names from a hat and Idaho could send the cousins of the Mayor of B.F.E., and it would be perfectly Constitutional.
We live in a Republic made up of the several States. You are a citizen of the State in which you reside. The States vote for the President of the Union. That they ask your opinion as to who it should be is a bonus, not a bylaw.
Here's a question: Where in the Constitution does it specify how you get to vote for the President?
If you answered "It doesn't." then, Hooray! Brownie points for you!
That's right, nowhere in the Constitution is there any mention of a popular vote for the office of the President. It does specify that the several States send electors, but there is no mention of primaries or parties or popular elections or any of the folderol we have come to take for granted as part of the electoral process. This election cycle, New York could decide to sell lottery tickets to determine who their electors will be, and Mississippi could draw names from a hat and Idaho could send the cousins of the Mayor of B.F.E., and it would be perfectly Constitutional.
We live in a Republic made up of the several States. You are a citizen of the State in which you reside. The States vote for the President of the Union. That they ask your opinion as to who it should be is a bonus, not a bylaw.
Bail out who?
If you live in a trendy or desirable neighborhood, you know the story: "I can't believe the Simpson place sold for $250,000! Of course, it was those transferees from California that bought it. Boy, did they get snookered!"
California has been suffering from a flight of productive citizens for years now as they tried to escape high prices, confiscatory taxes, and regulations that make the adjective "Byzantine" look completely inadequate. Unfortunately, rather than making them change currencies at the state border, we allowed them to spend their California Monopoly money and candy bar wrappers in the rest of the country as though it were real cash.
And make no mistake, Monopoly money is what it is. California has experienced Wiemar-like inflation, where grocery store cashiers make $12.50/hr, rookie police officers pull down $70k/yr, and the most depressing little 2br/1ba crackerbox costs a cool quarter mil. No wonder that they have a bizarre effect on local housing prices when they're allowed to show up in Des Moines and spend it as though it were real dollars.
Now that the goose that laid the golden eggs has flown the state to escape being eaten, the Cali .gov still has to pass out all the gold houses and rocket cars that it promised voters, and there just aren't the taxes to do it. What to do?
It's obvious! Beg Uncle Sucker for the money! If it works for the Masters of the Universe on Wall Street, it should work for the Governator, too. Just ask for Federal tax dollars from working mothers in Dubuque and Peoria, and that should prop up the decaying edifice of crazy social programs and no-connection-to-reality public servant salaries that are the rule on the Left Coast these days.
California has been suffering from a flight of productive citizens for years now as they tried to escape high prices, confiscatory taxes, and regulations that make the adjective "Byzantine" look completely inadequate. Unfortunately, rather than making them change currencies at the state border, we allowed them to spend their California Monopoly money and candy bar wrappers in the rest of the country as though it were real cash.
And make no mistake, Monopoly money is what it is. California has experienced Wiemar-like inflation, where grocery store cashiers make $12.50/hr, rookie police officers pull down $70k/yr, and the most depressing little 2br/1ba crackerbox costs a cool quarter mil. No wonder that they have a bizarre effect on local housing prices when they're allowed to show up in Des Moines and spend it as though it were real dollars.
Now that the goose that laid the golden eggs has flown the state to escape being eaten, the Cali .gov still has to pass out all the gold houses and rocket cars that it promised voters, and there just aren't the taxes to do it. What to do?
It's obvious! Beg Uncle Sucker for the money! If it works for the Masters of the Universe on Wall Street, it should work for the Governator, too. Just ask for Federal tax dollars from working mothers in Dubuque and Peoria, and that should prop up the decaying edifice of crazy social programs and no-connection-to-reality public servant salaries that are the rule on the Left Coast these days.
Hey, I know her!
You'll be able to watch me make an arse of myself as I show off my total lack of skill on Downrange TV.
Move over, Royal Swedish Academy of Sciences...
It's time for the real prizes! Bayou Renaissance Man has the skinny on this year's Ig Nobel awards.
Today In History: Ad astra per nazis...
On this day in 1942 the human race took a great step along our road to the stars, as the first man-made object made it off the planet's surface and into space.
The downside, of course, is that it was a Nazi ballistic missile.
The downside, of course, is that it was a Nazi ballistic missile.
When Walter Mitty goes bad...
Hang out around gun stores for any length of time, and you will meet some people with fairly vivid imaginations. Strange rangers. Mall ninjas. Guys who dress in paramilitary boots, shirts with flaming skulls and paratrooper wings, and who are always ominously hinting that "the organization" could call them at any time to send them on a "mission", apparently without even waiting for them to jog off the gut or grow enough biceps to do a pull-up.
They're generally harmless (and generally given a wide berth, as though an active fantasy life and lack of exercise might be contagious) but apparently there is a malevolent variety of the species:
They're generally harmless (and generally given a wide berth, as though an active fantasy life and lack of exercise might be contagious) but apparently there is a malevolent variety of the species:
I know we don't do things this way in this country, but if we could make an exception, I think it would be poetic justice if we could arrange for some guys from "Breckenridge" in overcoats and dark glasses and humorless expressions to carry out the capital punishment sentence. With lead pipes, please.
Thursday, October 02, 2008
If he's a "Gun Nut", I'm a health-food junkie.
Petzal seems skeptical that the Barry O. campaign is trying to stifle the NRA.
Bitter is surprised. Given Petzal's track record, I'm surprised Bitter is surprised.
Bitter is surprised. Given Petzal's track record, I'm surprised Bitter is surprised.
I've gotta run an errand...
So here's today's interesting Wikiwander to get you going:
The scary video at Kevin's place sent me to check and see if Wikipedia had an article on Vladimir Rezun (aka Viktor Suvorov). They did, and that set me off to the article on defection in general. This, in turn, contained a link to a whole page about nothing but Cold War pilot defections, which is a treasure trove of links to such choice goodies as Viktor Belenko and his MIG-25, which every kid who liked airplanes in the '70s knows by heart...
The scary video at Kevin's place sent me to check and see if Wikipedia had an article on Vladimir Rezun (aka Viktor Suvorov). They did, and that set me off to the article on defection in general. This, in turn, contained a link to a whole page about nothing but Cold War pilot defections, which is a treasure trove of links to such choice goodies as Viktor Belenko and his MIG-25, which every kid who liked airplanes in the '70s knows by heart...
I never thought I'd say this...
...but Nancy Pelosi is making me miss Tip O'Neill.
If you're going to be my ideological bête noire, at least be good at it, okay? The more I watch you, Nancy, the more you get to be about as scary as Shirley MacLaine. What is this? Some kind of Gilligan's Island commie takeover? It's hard for me to work up a good mad-on against someone I kinda feel sorry for.
If you're going to be my ideological bête noire, at least be good at it, okay? The more I watch you, Nancy, the more you get to be about as scary as Shirley MacLaine. What is this? Some kind of Gilligan's Island commie takeover? It's hard for me to work up a good mad-on against someone I kinda feel sorry for.
They just don't get it...
So, the back cover of every Terry Pratchett paperback I've read has sported the same garish review blurb:
This is the problem, I guess, with being tossed in the literary ghetto known as "genre fiction"; your reviewer takes a peek between the covers, sees a dragon, and says "Oh, it's like those hobbit books..." Except, of course, that the only thing that The Lord of the Rings and the Discworld novels have in common is that they are printed on paper and were written in English.
Professor Tolkien certainly never set out to write a fantasy novel; in fact, the genre didn't really exist as we know it when he started putting pen to paper. He was a professor of linguistics and literature who created a language in his spare time, and then made a world with a history and a mythos in which the language could exist. As far as he was concerned, he was just writing literature to amuse his fellow profs over beers at the pub, where they would presumably say things like "Excellent use of foreshadowing there, what? I believe that foreshadows me having another pint."
Terry Pratchett, on the other hand, began Discworld as sketch comedy for people who already spoke the lingo of the by-now-well-established fantasy genre and its role-playing offshoots. It's full of clever inside jokes, plays on various hackneyed tropes, and gentle goring of sacred cows. It has since grown into something more complex, but even at its deepest, remains essentially lighthearted. It is about as close in intent, content, theme, and tone to LOTR as The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy is to Asimov's Foundation Trilogy. (...and I think that dedicated readers of all four will find my comparison apt, nicht wahr?)
But, hey, it's genre fiction, so when your reviewer with an Associate's in English from a Cowtown VooTee notices the dragon, Tolkien is the automatic comparison. This is why if I ever write anything involving a sword or a raygun, I'm doing it under a pseudonym.
"Think J.R.R. Tolkien with a sharper, more satiric edge..."Now, I realize that the book reviewer for the Houston Chronicle is unlikely to moonlight doing brain surgery or teaching literature courses at Dartmouth, but please!
This is the problem, I guess, with being tossed in the literary ghetto known as "genre fiction"; your reviewer takes a peek between the covers, sees a dragon, and says "Oh, it's like those hobbit books..." Except, of course, that the only thing that The Lord of the Rings and the Discworld novels have in common is that they are printed on paper and were written in English.
Professor Tolkien certainly never set out to write a fantasy novel; in fact, the genre didn't really exist as we know it when he started putting pen to paper. He was a professor of linguistics and literature who created a language in his spare time, and then made a world with a history and a mythos in which the language could exist. As far as he was concerned, he was just writing literature to amuse his fellow profs over beers at the pub, where they would presumably say things like "Excellent use of foreshadowing there, what? I believe that foreshadows me having another pint."
Terry Pratchett, on the other hand, began Discworld as sketch comedy for people who already spoke the lingo of the by-now-well-established fantasy genre and its role-playing offshoots. It's full of clever inside jokes, plays on various hackneyed tropes, and gentle goring of sacred cows. It has since grown into something more complex, but even at its deepest, remains essentially lighthearted. It is about as close in intent, content, theme, and tone to LOTR as The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy is to Asimov's Foundation Trilogy. (...and I think that dedicated readers of all four will find my comparison apt, nicht wahr?)
But, hey, it's genre fiction, so when your reviewer with an Associate's in English from a Cowtown VooTee notices the dragon, Tolkien is the automatic comparison. This is why if I ever write anything involving a sword or a raygun, I'm doing it under a pseudonym.
Wednesday, October 01, 2008
I think we have a strong contender...
So the head honcho of the Swedish Academy in charge of the Nobel Prize for Literature, Horace Engdahl, has come down with a case of McDonald's Derangement Syndrome, pronouncing Americans too insular and Wal-Mart-y to participate in the great dialogue of world literature, unlike Europeans, who eat pickled herring and squished goose entrails and are therefore more sensitive and cultured, or something.
As witness to our ignorance, note that the CNN story is in the "showbiz" section, and not the "synthetic pathos in a sidewalk cafe while smoking Gitanes" section.
Personally, I'm affronted by this, and I have to wonder if Engdahl has considered the most obvious American entrant. I speak of a man who has written a great work of fiction that has moved millions around the world to spasms of emotional angst and hair-shirted asshattery; a man who, further, is so beloved by the Swedish Academy that, were he to stop walking suddenly, would need their fine academic noses surgically removed from his distal sphincter. I speak of that amazing work of literary fiction, Earth In The Balance, and its author, Albert Arnold Gore II.
As witness to our ignorance, note that the CNN story is in the "showbiz" section, and not the "synthetic pathos in a sidewalk cafe while smoking Gitanes" section.
Personally, I'm affronted by this, and I have to wonder if Engdahl has considered the most obvious American entrant. I speak of a man who has written a great work of fiction that has moved millions around the world to spasms of emotional angst and hair-shirted asshattery; a man who, further, is so beloved by the Swedish Academy that, were he to stop walking suddenly, would need their fine academic noses surgically removed from his distal sphincter. I speak of that amazing work of literary fiction, Earth In The Balance, and its author, Albert Arnold Gore II.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
:(
Mittens. Photo by Oleg Volk.
Mittens passed away today.
She was a sweet kitty.
Posting may be light for a bit.
Rough day...
Mittens is acting ill. The same way she was when she had to be cut open and a stomach blockage cleared. I hope it is not that.
Monday, September 29, 2008
News Flash:
33% of Americans willing to talk to telephone pollsters are dumber than a box of hammers.
Turk Turon was visiting last night and he and my roomie were chatting in the living room. The phone rang and, to spare them the interruption, I answered the extension here in VFTP Command Central:
"Hello?"
"Hello, I'm from XYZ Polling, Inc., and I'd like to talk to you about politics for a moment. Your answers will be completely confidential, and..."
"Hey, dude, sorry, but I'm on my way out the door."
"But, it..."
"Gotta run, sorry!" *click*
As I wandered towards the kitchen (I was only on my way out the office door. To get a Diet Dew.) RobertaX called out "Who was that?"
"Just some nosy person finding out why touchy-feely people always lead cranky misanthropes in telephone polls."
Turk Turon was visiting last night and he and my roomie were chatting in the living room. The phone rang and, to spare them the interruption, I answered the extension here in VFTP Command Central:
"Hello?"
"Hello, I'm from XYZ Polling, Inc., and I'd like to talk to you about politics for a moment. Your answers will be completely confidential, and..."
"Hey, dude, sorry, but I'm on my way out the door."
"But, it..."
"Gotta run, sorry!" *click*
As I wandered towards the kitchen (I was only on my way out the office door. To get a Diet Dew.) RobertaX called out "Who was that?"
"Just some nosy person finding out why touchy-feely people always lead cranky misanthropes in telephone polls."
How Not To Be Low Profile:
If one wishes to be low profile, one should be choosy about certain things. Like the ships one hijacks, for instance.
If one were to 'jack a ship full of, say, macrame owls destined for Pier One, it might be a while before anyone knew. Or cared. On the other hand, when you climb aboard a ship and find it filled to the gunwales with 33 Ukrainian T-72 tanks destined for gawd-only-knows where, it might be prudent to just climb quietly back off and motor away, because that's the sort of thievery that's going to draw attention.
Now, it strikes me that the sort of people who go shipping half a battalion's worth of main battle tanks around the seven seas are not the kind of people to take it lying down when their cargo goes missing. Boarding a ship and finding it full of tanks would be like burglarizing a house and finding a plaque on the mantlepiece "To Vinnie for faithful service. Love Don and the rest of the guys at La Cosa Nostra Enterprises"; the sensible criminal would just let himself out and apologize for the disturbance. Instead, our Somali rocket scientists are holed up on the boat and surrounded by warships.
The warships are there because the various governments of civilized and semi-civilized countries with interests in the area are wondering where the tanks were going. Kenya claims they purchased them at the big Labor Day Sale at Crazy Ivan's Used Tank Lot, but seems to be having difficulty coming up with a receipt. Perhaps Sumdood has it.
All in all, this will get funnier before it's over.
And don't forget that the pirate's natural enemy is... ninjas!
If one were to 'jack a ship full of, say, macrame owls destined for Pier One, it might be a while before anyone knew. Or cared. On the other hand, when you climb aboard a ship and find it filled to the gunwales with 33 Ukrainian T-72 tanks destined for gawd-only-knows where, it might be prudent to just climb quietly back off and motor away, because that's the sort of thievery that's going to draw attention.
Now, it strikes me that the sort of people who go shipping half a battalion's worth of main battle tanks around the seven seas are not the kind of people to take it lying down when their cargo goes missing. Boarding a ship and finding it full of tanks would be like burglarizing a house and finding a plaque on the mantlepiece "To Vinnie for faithful service. Love Don and the rest of the guys at La Cosa Nostra Enterprises"; the sensible criminal would just let himself out and apologize for the disturbance. Instead, our Somali rocket scientists are holed up on the boat and surrounded by warships.
The warships are there because the various governments of civilized and semi-civilized countries with interests in the area are wondering where the tanks were going. Kenya claims they purchased them at the big Labor Day Sale at Crazy Ivan's Used Tank Lot, but seems to be having difficulty coming up with a receipt. Perhaps Sumdood has it.
All in all, this will get funnier before it's over.
And don't forget that the pirate's natural enemy is... ninjas!
Congrats to...
...whoever won that Marzitelli knife. I lost my ass You got a great deal on that thing!
Oh, well. You win some and you lose some. Looks like I'll be making another trip to the eBay well; watch this space.
Oh, well. You win some and you lose some. Looks like I'll be making another trip to the eBay well; watch this space.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Yesterday...
...was worth blogging about, but I'm waiting on a post from Caleb (hint, hint, no pressure...)
Today I am going to take a bicycle ride on the Monon and then turn up for the Indy Blog Meet. Hopefully the ruffians and vagabonds that have plagued the Monon of late have not come this far north, but if so, we have a better remedy than batphone call boxes.
Today I am going to take a bicycle ride on the Monon and then turn up for the Indy Blog Meet. Hopefully the ruffians and vagabonds that have plagued the Monon of late have not come this far north, but if so, we have a better remedy than batphone call boxes.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Big Weekend...
I'll be leaving to go shoot bowling pins at Marion County Fish & Game in a few minutes. I'm absolutely stoked at the chance to show off my mad, 1337 shooting skillz (or lack thereof) in front of a new audience. Hopefully my 625-2 will be the right gun for the job...
Tomorrow is the big blogmeet, when all the cool kids will once again be meeting up at the Broad Ripple Brewpub. I'm looking forward to it!
Tomorrow is the big blogmeet, when all the cool kids will once again be meeting up at the Broad Ripple Brewpub. I'm looking forward to it!
Friday, September 26, 2008
Liberal Fascism...
Okay, so Jonah Goldberg is pretty doctrinaire, and we expect that, but his history is pretty good. I just got three chapters in, and reading a whole chapter about Woodrow Wilson got me agitated enough that I had to set it down. How did such a reprehensible little schoolmaster wind up in the Big Chair?
So I re-read Farnham's Freehold for only the second time (and my first reading was over ten years ago.) I took a completely different message from it the second time 'round, too. The first time I simply took it at face value and was shocked at the rrrracism! This time I was shocked at the racism, too, but in the way the author intended.
That made me recollect that it had been quite a few years since I read Double Star, and that I'd only read it once, too. So I re-read it, and was amazed at how well a piece of 52-year-old SF has held up.
Still not ready to get back into Goldberg, I then picked up James P. Hogan's Voyage From Yesteryear, from back before he went all bugnuts Velikovskian. When I finish it, I'm back into the political book...
So I re-read Farnham's Freehold for only the second time (and my first reading was over ten years ago.) I took a completely different message from it the second time 'round, too. The first time I simply took it at face value and was shocked at the rrrracism! This time I was shocked at the racism, too, but in the way the author intended.
That made me recollect that it had been quite a few years since I read Double Star, and that I'd only read it once, too. So I re-read it, and was amazed at how well a piece of 52-year-old SF has held up.
Still not ready to get back into Goldberg, I then picked up James P. Hogan's Voyage From Yesteryear, from back before he went all bugnuts Velikovskian. When I finish it, I'm back into the political book...
...now with 90% less content!
Sigh.
Between the gun board drama starting to boil over and beating my head against the WordPress wall this morning, I've got bupkis. It's a good post that would have gone up at Casa Marko, but I haven't been doing my usual surfing and such that turns up three things to make fun of before 8AM every morning.
And worse, unlike the four other very talented writers who contributed their musings at Marko's, I am a commercialized, sellout hack; a SiteMeter ho'. If I don't have content up at VFTP before the Eight O'Clock Rush, I start breaking out in hives. You can imagine that RobertaX is showing the patience of a saint by not having locked me in the basement after my third pacing-the-floor, cussing-at-the-screen rant this morning.
Ah well, life goes on. I'll try and get something readable up here before too long...
Between the gun board drama starting to boil over and beating my head against the WordPress wall this morning, I've got bupkis. It's a good post that would have gone up at Casa Marko, but I haven't been doing my usual surfing and such that turns up three things to make fun of before 8AM every morning.
And worse, unlike the four other very talented writers who contributed their musings at Marko's, I am a commercialized, sellout hack; a SiteMeter ho'. If I don't have content up at VFTP before the Eight O'Clock Rush, I start breaking out in hives. You can imagine that RobertaX is showing the patience of a saint by not having locked me in the basement after my third pacing-the-floor, cussing-at-the-screen rant this morning.
Ah well, life goes on. I'll try and get something readable up here before too long...
Sorry, folks...
I'm having zero luck in figuring out how to get my guest post up over at The Munchkin Wrangler.
I'm really lovin' this WordPress thing. Only not.
I'm really lovin' this WordPress thing. Only not.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
disintegration
so it's all come back round to breaking apart again
breaking apart like i'm made up of glass again
making it up behind my back again
holding my breath for the fear of sleep again
holding it up behind my head again
cut in deep to the heart of the bone again
round and round and round
and it's coming apart again
over and over and over
-The Cure, "Disintegration"
breaking apart like i'm made up of glass again
making it up behind my back again
holding my breath for the fear of sleep again
holding it up behind my head again
cut in deep to the heart of the bone again
round and round and round
and it's coming apart again
over and over and over
-The Cure, "Disintegration"
Seafood Rule Of Thumb:
The farther down the evolutionary chain an oceanic critter is, the better it tastes. (Sometimes expressed as "The more eyes and fewer feet something has...")
This goes a long way towards explaining why scallops, for example, are so delish, since they have, like, a bazillion eyes and one foot.
Last night was Nice Meal Night at Roseholme Cottage. I turned my hand to some sea scallops as big as a baby's fist, bronzed in butter and white wine. RobertaX did her "popcorn asparagus". We tortured the cats by eating shellfish as big as their heads and making "Mmmm-Mm!" noises while watching MythBusters.
This goes a long way towards explaining why scallops, for example, are so delish, since they have, like, a bazillion eyes and one foot.
Last night was Nice Meal Night at Roseholme Cottage. I turned my hand to some sea scallops as big as a baby's fist, bronzed in butter and white wine. RobertaX did her "popcorn asparagus". We tortured the cats by eating shellfish as big as their heads and making "Mmmm-Mm!" noises while watching MythBusters.
The beat goes on...
The week of guestblogging at The Munchkin Wrangler continues with CrankyProf yesterday and LabRat today.
When Marko called and pitched me the idea, I said "What is this? Marko's Angels?" and he replied "I don't know; was Charlie roguishly handsome and devastatingly witty?"
"Uh, I'm not sure. I don't think he was ever on camera..."
Looks like I've got my work cut out for me; these have been tough acts to follow.
When Marko called and pitched me the idea, I said "What is this? Marko's Angels?" and he replied "I don't know; was Charlie roguishly handsome and devastatingly witty?"
"Uh, I'm not sure. I don't think he was ever on camera..."
Looks like I've got my work cut out for me; these have been tough acts to follow.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Quote of the Day:
So: that's where we are. As to what can be done, it may not matter. That is, it's important what we do, but the chance that it will be done sanely and rationally is very small. What will be done must be decided by the most unpopular Administration in nearly a century in connection with the most unpopular Congress in history; and everyone involved in finding a remedy was in one way or another a part of creating the mess. By everyone, I mean everyone: the Administration, the Treasury, the Congress under Carter and Clinton, Congress under Reagan and Bush, Congress controlled by both Democrats and Republicans, the regulatory agencies, and the "experts" now out of jobs who will be hired to manage the new institutions that will be set up to buy bad debts: every one of them. What will be done will be settled by politics, not by economics.That Jerry Pournelle, he sure is a smart guy for a rocket scientist. You should go read the whole article.
(H/T to The Smallest Minority.)
Big Garage Sale:
In order for my poor starving artist self to come up with the shekels for that ParaUSA 9mm LTC, I'm having a garage sale.
Check it out:
Maybe more to come...
Y'all have fun bidding!
Check it out:
Maybe more to come...
Y'all have fun bidding!
This is getting old...
Apparently North Korea's cupboard is bare again:
I say we pool our cash, hire somebody to whack the Dear Leader, make a one-time delivery of a couple container ships' worth of Spam, Saltines, and Minute Rice to the docks at Wonsan, and call it a day. I'm in for... let's see... twelve dollars and thirty-eight cents. Anybody else want in?
North Korea has made another move toward possibly restarting its suspended nuclear program, the U.N. nuclear agency reports.Obviously North Korea is out of stuff and needs a bargaining chip to trade for more food.
At the reclusive nation's request, the International Atomic Energy Agency has removed surveillance equipment and seals from the Yongbyong nuclear facility, agency spokeswoman Melissa Fleming said.
I say we pool our cash, hire somebody to whack the Dear Leader, make a one-time delivery of a couple container ships' worth of Spam, Saltines, and Minute Rice to the docks at Wonsan, and call it a day. I'm in for... let's see... twelve dollars and thirty-eight cents. Anybody else want in?
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