If it had been my Mom they criminalized worse than a violent street thug over a case of unauthorized goldfish mongering, I am afraid I might have reconsidered my essentially pacifist tendencies.

Why oh why are the British peasants not massing before No. 10 Downing, the Palace of Her current residence, and where ever the Hell Scotland Yard hangs out these days? Torches. Pitch forks. Recordings of Winston's 1939-41 speeches blaring over portable PA systems.

H/T to Tam

Terror in the Heartland

I have no explanation for it other than that we are being infiltrated by semi-sentient vertebrates deemed too kooky for San Francisco.

You'll recall that a few months ago a minor panic made big Iowa news when someone reported a suspicious bomb-like device in the road. It turned out to be a roadkill muffler.

Now come the media to report that the cops went full anti-terror tactical when a man in uniform and carrying a rifle was seen running through a field a couple of days ago.

The massed forces of law and order converged and discovered he was a National Guardsman on a training run. The AP says the cops "determined the rifle he was carrying was a training model and loaded."

You go ahead and figure that out. A loaded rubber duck?

Policeman Kelly Fitzpatrick said the soldier, "didn't use the amount of moxie and common sense that should be expected in the present day." If so, I personally assign the blame less to the soldier and more to the "present day."

If the terrorists' objective was to turn us into an a diapered nation with 911 tattooed on the backs of our hands and all the courage of Uncle Wiggly, they're succeeding admirably.

...by the company they keep

"Hank (Johnson) is a true leader who represents the very best essence of a public servant."

(President Obama on Hank's campaign site.)

Spring Cleaning

The result of a hard day's puttering. Pride has a comparative element, and the place looks impressive only to those intimately involved in sweeping up and hauling out just under ten gallons of sawdust. That became landscaping material. Another two or three five-gallon pails, full of this and that, are on their way to the landfill.

Having certain acquisitive and retentive traits leads to clutter, but I applied Step 2 of my program, asking frequently: "What's the worst thing that can happen if I toss this box of crap?" Usually the answer was "A trip to town on the virtually non-existent chance you someday really need (a short piece of web cargo strap; a rusted Taiwanese center punch; a coffee can stuffed with audio cable and RCA plugs, etc.") The payoff is the ability to find things like my hammer and the drill press.