The New York masters are at it again. Heller and McDonald scare them witless, so they're working on a scheme to subvert the natural rights recognized and guaranteed by Second Amendment and those two decisions.
Late with the rent (which IS too damned high)? No guns for you, deadbeat. Same with unpaid parking tickets, maybe.
(Via The Unwanted Blog)
Oct 28, 2010
Oct 27, 2010
The Green Ripper
McGee has lost both Greta and his own confidence in his feelings:
McGee has lost both Greta and his own confidence in his feelings:
"We are all at the mercy of the script writers, directors, and actors in cinema and television. Man is a herd creature, social and imitative. We learn the outward manifestations of inner stress, patterning reaction to what we have learned. And because the the visible ways we react are so often borrowed, we wonder about the truth of what is happening underneath. Do I really feel pain, grief, shock loss?"
Sayonara, Meg Whitman
Whitman just told a chatterer on Fox, "I will treat the voters like grownups."
So much for Meg's chances.
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So much for Meg's chances.
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The .41 Remington Magnum
A pal has just told Facebook about his pleasure at acquiring a Black Hawk in .41 Magnum, triggering a certain nostalgia around here. It was a caliber which didn't deserve commercial death and probably would have survived if semi-autos hadn't taken over the cops' world.
I sold mine several years ago for just two reasons. It was a minty three-screw, and I decided I didn't want to subject it to the abrasions of field use. The decision was sealed one night in the reloading shack when it dawned on me that I was stocking bullets and dies for a ridiculous number of calibers. So, ludditically, I resolved to home-brew nothing other than .38/.357 and .45. It was a practical decision but sometimes regretful -- like wishing you hadn't sent that trusty old girl friend out into the cold just because she demanded liver and onions once in a while.
There a small and amusing chapter in firearms history about the .41 Remington Magnum. About three years before its time, George L. Herter had begun selling a proprietary cartridge called the .401 PowerMag. He did a good deal of caterwauling to the effect that Remington simply stole his cartridge.
I sold mine several years ago for just two reasons. It was a minty three-screw, and I decided I didn't want to subject it to the abrasions of field use. The decision was sealed one night in the reloading shack when it dawned on me that I was stocking bullets and dies for a ridiculous number of calibers. So, ludditically, I resolved to home-brew nothing other than .38/.357 and .45. It was a practical decision but sometimes regretful -- like wishing you hadn't sent that trusty old girl friend out into the cold just because she demanded liver and onions once in a while.
There a small and amusing chapter in firearms history about the .41 Remington Magnum. About three years before its time, George L. Herter had begun selling a proprietary cartridge called the .401 PowerMag. He did a good deal of caterwauling to the effect that Remington simply stole his cartridge.
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