Surviving the Clinton/Bush/Obama economy

I am reminded this  morning that eternal vigilance is the price of avoiding poverty.

One of my knives needed a touch up, so I wet  down a hard Arkansas stone  with Buck Honing Oil  and did the job. (The high-grade oil showed up in a box of auction-sale junk. Trust me on this one, Sidney; I did not order it from Cabela's.)

The red oil from Buck works fine, At two bucks an ounce it should. Never mind that it looks like, smells like, and feels like plain automatic transmission fluid,  about two bucks a quart.

Now, saving a little on honing oil isn't going to make or break you, but there's a principle involved here. Illegitimati non screw u with salesmanship based on pure image. 

(Slaves to their own self-image can, of course, acquire an empty Buck Honing Oil bottle and fill it from their stock of transmission fluid. No one will be the wiser, even if knife sharpening is a social activity for you and your circle of friends.)

A disclaimer is necessary since everything I know about chemistry  comes from  The Anarchists Cook Book or Old Mr. Boston's Bartenders Guide. Maybe upscale honing oil in a cool bottle differs from ATF on a molecular level.

But then again, come to think of it, maybe neither is all that much better than spit.

Washington Post: Foul. Name taken.

Michael W. Savage of the  Washington Post offers a report on the diaper dew accumulating on Washington bottoms because our cute little state and local governments are doing what they can to cope with the costs of illegal immigration. He reports:

This week, the spotlight shifted to rural Fremont, which narrowly passed an ordinance that would outlaw hiring illegal immigrants or renting property to them.

Narrowly?

Mike, Ol' Buddy, y'all wouldn't be tryin' to pull one of them city-boy shim-shams on us flyover yokels now, would you?

Fremont citizens  voted 57-43 to pass their ordinance. You might wish to check through your pile editorial oversight and multiple layers of fact-checking . You may  find that most authorities call a 14-point spread a "landslide,"

Skin, Slapstick, even a Seltzer Bottle Assault

Folks, you gotta see this one, from 1968, "The Night They Raided Minsky's."  Britt Ecklund,  beautiful and not the world's worst actress. The under-rated  Jason Robards. A cast of dozens of unknown journeyman players enjoying their revival of vaudeville.

For those whose intellect and  sensibilities are too advanced to embrace mere entertainment, the film can be considered  a libertarian/objectivist  epic. Both Attila and the Witch Doctor are called to action by informers carrying the news that on one night in New York, many citizens  are guilty of open enjoyment.

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Forgetting to turn off the stupid box and waking up to whatever is on Showtime at sunrise isn't always a cause for self-hatred. 

USA! USA!

Now that that my native land is a world soccer power, I suppose it behooves me to become an official fan.

So I'll practice drinking strong beer until I puke on the guy in the bleacher seat in front of me.  I'll learn to yell   "f++k"  a lot. And when my team does very well I'll run naked up and down Temple Lane after breaking things inside the Temple Bar. 

(These lessons were learned in Dublin when I met some English gentlemen in town  for a tournament,)

Anything else I should be working on?