Occupy Heros, Police Heros

I can't find any.

Some of the individual cops deserve a little slack.  Much like soldiers, they are paid to take orders, and on the line of intense confrontation they are paid to obey commands (Gas 'em!)  instantly and without question. Their personal beliefs about humanity, reasonable exercise of police powers, and Constitutional protections are officially deemed irrelevant.

Still, the video of the cops Macing citizens at UC Davis yesterday afternoon suggests the political masters still lack a way of eliminating officers who simply enjoy exercising raw power. (If, in fact, the community and campus overlords even care about such things.)  Insofar as the two videos reflect what actually happened, we're seeing a dog licking his balls because he can and because his masters applaud, toss him a Milk Bone, and shield him from unpleasant consequences.

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Since the first Occupiers hit the streets I've been looking for a reason to murmur approving words.

Sorry Biffie. I can't do it despite a congenital urge to cheer anyone who annoys authoritarians.

The problem is your confusion. A vague discontent with the  way things are is a perfectly good reason to yell and scream for a while -- just long enough for you to get it out of your system before you get a haircut, shower, and go back to work. Everyone is entitled to an occasional  spasm of street theatre and a good cathartic rant about how life ain't never gave you no breaks.

Your problem is that you expect to be taken seriously without giving  thought-enabled persons reason to do so. In other words, what do you want? Or even, who is your enemy? Your chants that your foe is the "power structure" and you want "fairness" prove your movement is an exercise in loud, unwashed, idiocy, more an excuse to raise Hell and get on teevee than anything else.

There is power structure. Any society of three or more humans needs one. Fairness may be the ultimate moral achievement of a society, but it is not the natural order and not yours or mine by some divine right. It is the result of rational thought processes heavily concentrated on keeping the power structure honest.

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You called your virgin invasion of the streets and parks "Occupy Wall  Street." That may have been enough, as an intellectual matter, to dismiss you out of hand.

You wouldn't know what to do with the financial system if we handed you the keys, largely because your anger -- real or feigned -- blinds you to the partial truth Wall Street apologists are fond of spouting. Markets do provide liquidity, and liquidity is crucial. Without the means of changing your mind about an investment by buying or selling, no one would invest, meaning Steve Jobs would have spent his life farting around in his garage.

Markets do create vast hordes of capital, the kind of capital necessary to, for instance, create systems which make it possible for you to fulfill your deepest desire. That is, without huge capital availability no one could support the network teevee camera. Then you would have have no place to wave your sign. Then the world would ignore you. Then you would have to run around wearing a frownie face. You would be sad.


But take heart. A real enemy does exist, and his name is Fraud, so I have a suggestion. Go find a copy of "Atlas Shrugged." (It's a book. You know, with pages and like that.) Find the passages which explain fraud as simply the intellectual and emotional equivalent of theft.  That is, there is no moral distinction to be made between a thug stealing a little kid's lunch money and a broker peddling a CDO rated AAA when he knows it has no more intrinsic value than the turd you deposited behind the tree in Zucchini Park.

That just might lead you to other books explaining how economic and political systems (1) are designed to work (2) actually work and (c) might be made to work better.

I know that kind of regimen isn't as much fun as sitting around a kum-bye- yah campfire, but it is sort of what people do when they yearn to be taken seriously.

Boy Scoutageddon

That last post got me thinking about federal charters in general. The first one I personally heard of was the 1916  charter of the Boy Scouts of America. When I was a Tenderfoot we were told we ought to be real proud of that.

The charter was accompanied by the tradition of making Potus the honorary president of the Boy Scouts of America. Yep, His Obamaness is the current head Scout. Never mind his discomfort in associating with a patriotic, quasi-religious organization which also insists that adult scout leaders be hetero -- or at least sufficiently controlled to keep their mouths shut and their hands off  the little boys at Camporee time.

Consider the unthinkable. Tragedy robs the nation of its president and vice-president  while Barney Frank is speaker of the U.S. House.   As his first official act he (with congresscritter help) charters Acorn. Then he waits for the invitation to honorarily head the Boy Scouts and wonders whether -- if the invitation comes -- he should accept or decline.  Talk about your horns of a dilemma...

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On balance, I think the Scouts should bow out of the charter. If nothing else it would set a nice example for Freddy Mac.

Adult language warning

I've developed the obnoxious habit of checking into MSNBC on my electrical tellie in the morning. To say that Joe and Mika run the best of the bleary-eyed wakeups is to damn with faint  praise. And maybe I like having my intelligence insulted.

Such as with the large-print banner on this morning's discussion of congresscritters wandering in to their offices determined to increase their net worth before lunch through bold stock-market investments.

The banner asks, "Do Lawmakers Benefit from Insider Trading?"

Here comes the adult language.

"Does a bear shit in the woods?"

This hasn't been news since at least the Lincoln Administration.

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The solution is a Constitutional amendment requiring Congress to obey the Constitution by not chartering railroads or financing silly solar-power adventures,  etc.

If you snort something back at me about circular reasoning, you are a clear-eyed, intelligent citizen of the Republic, and I love you.

OMG, another campus gun

Another hideous possibility is averted due to the diligence of campus-town cops.

Vigilent Greenville police saw a suspicious character with an assault rifle on their Big Brother screens,  and the  campus was locked down as...

"Heavily armed officers from at least four law enforcement agencies responded in force, sweeping campus buildings, searching buses and briefly surrounding a nearby house. A Highway Patrol helicopter hovered overhead."

The official ninjas handled the guy packing an umbrella without serious difficulty.


Welcome to the New America. E Pluribus EEEEK!

Blogging ain't hard

All you really have to do is read the newspaper and pass on the giggles. .  The Register decided to see why the U of Ioway laid itself open to another round of ridicule with that silly emergency alert about a man with a gun. (It turns out that there was no gun, no demonstrable threat, and not even a suspect.)

"U of I police director Chuck Green did not return a message seeking comment. Associate director Dave Visin referred questions to fellow associate director Lucy Wiederholt, who did not return a message seeking comment.


"University President Sally Mason’s office referred questions to spokesman Tom Moore and said interviews with Mason must be scheduled in advance. Mason was out of the office Tuesday."


That's an awful lot of fancy footwork coming from a place that calls itself a community of scholars who think at the cutting edge of the most adanced frontiers of human intelligence.

Funny one of the high-level cogitaters didn't say, "Aww, why the Hell don't we just admit we panicked like a freshman who missed her period?"

The Wednesday morning authoritarian

I'm breaking libertarian principles here by saying you did  wrong this morning if you watched MSNBC instead of CNBC. You must mount your De Lorean and return in order to rectify your lives.

The Morning Joe gang was stunned by yesterday's poll reporting the four-way dead heat  in the Iowa caucus race. So  they naturally brought in Chris Mathews to help them regain their composure. He led them through a therapeutic session based on the novel ideas that (1)  Republicans don't much like Romney (2) Gingrich has a lot of personal baggage and (3) potential voters can be a pretty flighty bunch early in the election cycle. Thanks, Chris. We didn't know.

Just when I thought it was over, Mika -- of all people --  said some viewers might think their reporting was merely blasting Republicans rather than addressing what is "good for the country."  Heads nodded and we got a nice little coda emphasizing that the good of the country requires policies sort of splitting the difference between  Obama and Romney.  Good idea -- averaging out pi and 3.15.

Need I mention that the name of Ron Paul, second in the poll, went unmentioned?

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Clicking my magic wormhole over to CNBC, I found the the financial talkies letting Darell Issa speak his piece -- giving him time to complete his sentences and even short paragraphs.

I discovered  myself almost admiring a misdemeanant (at least)  and Patriot Act backer  who, here in 2011, is capable of talking about the right things,  structuring government for efficiency and a good chance of freeing people to succeed or fail on their own merits.  I suppose a lot of the Left will call him a sorehead for mentioning Solyndra.

(I totally forgot to check Fox News for thigh reveals. Must be getting old.)

The Iron Man Ron Paul

This surprises me, even though I've always credited Dr. Paul with support well beyond what the famous talkers concede him.

Ann Selzer is the gal who specializes in measuring Iowa opinion, and she's typically  good at her job.  She just released a new  poll of likely Iowa caucus goers, and Paul is No. 2.

Ranking of everyone with a chance:

Cain 20
Paul 19
Romney 18
Gingrich 17

Yep, a statistical tie for first with all three of the others.

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TBC after I make some progress on a more pleasant task -- rummaging through the vault and reloading shack  for  an eight-foot  table's worth of stuff neither I nor any of my pals can use. I mean, being a crack political analyst is all well and good, but it's more noble to be thought of as a crack Loophole Vendor.

Making even O'Rielly seem like a news reporter

Chelsea Clinton is now a big-time journalist for NBC, joining Jenna Bush and  Meghan McCain in a new triumvirate of lucky sperm kids who will explain the world to us. The network assures us she wasn't hired as just another pretty face.

Chelsea Clinton "made it very clear that this is not going to be a surface-deep relationship," (NBC News President) ) Capus told the New York Times. "She wants to be in the field for the shoot and in the edit room for the edit."

And if that doesn't terrify you I'll kiss your arse in the Rainbow Room and sign a model release for every camera crew you can cram into the joint.

(For Chelsea's first effort, maybe she could treat us to a retrospective on her ma's heroic conduct under intense fire in the Sandbox.)

Paranoia revisited

Or: "Gee it's fun to yell wolf-wolf-wolf at the kids."

Down at the Athens of the Corn Fields, someone reported a man threatening a woman with a gun, "somewhere in Iowa City." University of Iowa officials flashed out an e-alert (a "Hawk Warning") telling the 31,000 students to stay put and avoid the horrifying risk of being outdoors in the sprawling city of 68,000.

Local teevee found one of the panic-stricken students.

“We were terrified because we were going to have to walk back and everyone told us not to leave,” said ... a freshman student who was at a local restaurant when she received the message."


She was not alone in fright: 

“The girl taking our orders was freaking out," (another coed) said. “Everyone behind us was like ‘Oh my God.’”

The police investigated and reported: "

the suspect was located in Muscatine, where he planned to spend the night with a family member. Local police talked to the man, but did not find a gun in his possession. Iowa City police are not planning on filing any charges because there is no concrete evidence in the case...

You can chalk up some of this to teevee doing what teevee lives for -- creating the highest possible drama from every pee-leg 911 call. Panic on campus draws viewers. 

And much of it to university officials petrified at the thought of having a public relations problem, of not being seen as custodians of a venue safe as Sunday school.

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There's nothing wrong with some sort of communications system reporting potential danger, but these panic attacks every time a jittery citizen sees a firearm pretty much negates the value  of any alert system.

Terror threat in the Heartland

The City of Des Moines blocked off a an area of the urban core after a citizen reported a suspicious object on the sidewalk. Crack hazardous-objects officers in full armor charged to the scene and successfully disarmed a cylindrical plastic tube used for dispensing dog crap bags.

You may recall a TMR report of a few months back detailing another suspicious object on one of our highways. In that case a road-kill muffler was neutralized.

So much for my life-long view that paranoia is not a Midwest trait.

Gee, maybe President Obama really is a Christian

Or maybe he just decided a new Christmas tree tax was not the wisest  possible political move.


Big Christmas tree growers actually wanted a 15-cent-per-tree tax to promote Christmas trees, and the Obama Administration went along. Then those pesky conservatives started tossing around words like "Grinch." The President turned 180 and advanced, warp speed,  to the rear

The immediate result of the tax would have been a national board for the promotion of Christmas trees. We can't actually prove that the new bureaucracy would have immediately set up a lobbying effort to extort a little extra from the general fund of U.S. Treasury, but  if you suspect this was the real motive, I forgive you.

Anything happening out in the world?

I'm sorry, but...

Guiding the nation's political process has become a lower priority here this week as Camp J hosts the annual Brome Shark Convention and great F. and S. Clans  (Plus Friends ) Great Annual Pheasant Shoot-At.

Six are in the field at the moment. I'm recuperating and will join them later.

Generally, the ringnecks are in a state of annoyance, more due to some classically beautiful dog work* than to any real fear of bodily injury.

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*A nod to Budda and Storm. Unfortunately,New Dog Libby, turns out to be a hoplophobe and will henceforth earn her keep through sweetness.

Slaughter in the woods, a national crisis

The Minnesota press is reporting tragedy during the firearms deer season opener. Three humans died, giving new urgency to the need for common-sense regulation.

The three men perished in falls from tree stands. Nothing else is needed to  illustrate the vital  need for common-sense ladder control -- license to possess,  mandatory government training,  and certainly a strict one-tree stand-a-month purchase limit.

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But leave it to my buddy B to make light of the special horror inherent the the 82 -year-old man's fatal fall.

"He just fell asleep."

"Yeah. On his way up."

I'm not telling who made that last wiseass remark.

Hello, Abdul

On  November 8, 1942, Yanks and  Brits launched Operation Torch. The avowed enemies were Rommel and the Italians

But first we needed to whip some French. It didn't take long, and they turned out to be a minor annoyance in the grand scheme of things.

Rommel was tougher, and the green American army carried its butt in its hands in the aftermath of the Kasserine Pass adventure. Eventually all was righted, and six months after the invasion North Africa was no longer Nazi country.

Three significant developments followed the victory in Tunisia:

1. The blimp-scale ego of Bernard Law Montgomery

2. Ditto George F. Patton

3. The war in Sicily where (1) and (2) above, opposed one another in the race for Messina. There was collateral damage, of course; that is, some Nazis got killed.

Just a placeholder, here

Mundane tasks occupy me, and I'm concentrating. The closest I've come to ratiocination this morning is explaining to New Dog Libby that she didn't get to go for a ride because she was a pain in the ass earlier.

I explained that an  excitable adolescent girl nature did not justify totally ignoring a clear call to "come" when I'd finished a little wood-splitting.  "Young Lady,"  I said, "The Camp J command structure follows B.F. Skinner, and you must learn to accommodate yourself to a strict behaviorist regimen."

She didn't say anything back. Probably wants to think it over.

Why we're broke

It seems the Wells Fargo and  Principal banks got caught cheating the rest of us out of a hundred million bucks or so. They loaned some money to cooperative Frogs and told Uncle Sam it was a tax-free investment. The judge told them they were full of it.

The U.S. Department of Justice  is delighted. One of Holder's Heroes says  the rulings show the federal government will not tolerate companies that construct tax shelters for fictitious investments.

I think maybe the Holder guy is a little over the top in the self-righteousness department. I'll be glad to modify that opinion when I see the DoJ  try to at least annoy Solyndra execs and the Obama operatives who tossed money down that rat hole.

In round numbers, Obama buddy Solyandra swiped five dollars for every one the banks tried to steal.

Sirocco

Only colder.

Maybe it will simplify my life.  This part of the world is dry. There's been virtually no rain since July. A burning ban was decreed in  September, just as the leaves began to fall. There are 70-some trees on the post itself, hundreds more in the surrounding tactical operations zone.  So they pile up to a troublesome degree.

It isn't  just the aesthetics. You lose things in them. Like the loppers I've been looking for for weeks. Like the wood from the  dead oak I took down and bucked Thursday. And I'd have sworn there was an old girl friend around here somewhere.

But the wind is off the lake today, blowing across this installation and toward the woods to the north. It's working it way up to something like 40 mph, meaning I think I can put the rejuvenated Toro to work stirring them up so Mother Nature can waft them away.

Then I can find and resume splitting the fuel.

Then maybe I'll have enough energy left to reduce the chaos in the guest cabin for the comfort of my well-armed kids and friends coming next week  to shoot at pheasants and fondle one another's bird dogs.

I'd rather finish Hoyt's novel about Custer  (The Last Stand), but I think I  already know how it's going to come out, so maybe not.  That leaves least at least one other slothful temptation. Again, though, I already know what makes a Winchester 88 go bang, so maybe I can leave the new one in the rack until after sundown.

Everything is this report is literally true. Except maybe I lied a little about an old girl  friend hiding in the leaves.

Speaking of Greek politicians

It is pleasant to look upon the last Greek citizen known  to work a full six-day week.

Ingratitude

You and I and all our neighbors have, at huge expense, dispatched our president to "The South of France"  for purposes of advising Europe on its debt problems. It's his second day there, and we have yet to receive one token of thanks from the Old World -- not a wedge of brie, nary a Black Forest cuckoo clock nor a jug of olive oil.

I believe I speak on behalf of the entire nation in expressing shock at this slight.

It is no comfort to side with the sorehead who remarks that having Barack Obama as a financial advisor is much like having Lindsay Lohan as your substance abuse counsellor.

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Note to the editors of America: Do you really believe referring to it as "The South of France" make you seem all cosmopolitan and jet-setty?  Okay, then the next time His Obamaness flies into Ardmore, we want to hear you report that he arrived in the South of Oklahoma.

Yeah, he probably groped 'em

In a society governing itself in mature ways, the political response would be, "So what?"

My belief, based on nothing by way of fact other than what everyone has seen, is that he had a lech on for the office help and did a little probing in hopes of getting lucky. That makes him tacky, distasteful, boorish, socially inept.

It does not insert him into another minority group. The generation of executives from whom he chose his mentors was rife with bosses who believed it best if the girls in the typing pool could type, but, if they couldn't, might be retained for other positions.   Call it wrong, but recognize that it was the culture and it took an unusually strong man to resist.

A morning review of Politico shows nine fat stories on office groping in the 90s by the man would would be president.  Probably that many more are being run through spell czeck. The underlying theme is that a man guilty of a furtive slap and tickle is unqualified to administer the federal government; a  man such as William Jefferson Clinton.

There are good reasons to oppose this guy, to see him as a  buffoon. China on the verge of nuclear capability. The 999 plan (crafted solely to seem simple to the dullest voter).  His love relationship with fiat currency and high-speed presses over at  Printing and Engraving.

Inviting Whazzername to his apartment is not one of those reasons. If it were, the nation would be forced by logic to cancel the halo of one John F. Kennedy.

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The real damage is to the quality of the national dialog. There for a while we thought it could go no lower.

Another girl with a gun

But at least this one is offered with a serious  political message.

"No. Herm, I don't think we should work in your apartment tonight."

John M would approve

Please wander over to the Coal Creek Armory site for a look at a very nice 1911. It's a gift, on its way to combat-wounded veteran Captain Mark Brogan USA.

CCA seems to build a lot of custom 1911s, said  to  possess extreme accuracy and dependability.  This one is also an eye treat because of what it lacks -- no duded-up two-tone finish, no ninja rails, no lasers, no glass, no extraneous buttons and levers. Someone in Knoxville understands what a pistol is for.

The armory has taken it on itself to demonstrate respect for the young men and women we send off to far and ugly places, as we all should. Never mind that the political masters often order them into foolish adventures; that's an entirely separate issue.

H/T Tam.

The sheriff pimps the Judge

Over in South Carolina, Sheriff Chuck Wright tells his people -- particularly his women -- "Get  a CCW. Get a gun."

Welcome aboard, Sheriff.

This will produce a zillion internet words, of course, but some folks will have missed his interview by an especially clueless* MSNBC head. The head asked the sheriff, "What kind of gun?"

"A .45 caliber handgun," he replied. " ... it shoots a .45 bullet or a shotgun shell ... you don't have to be accurate, just in the general vicinity."

Have at it, gang. However, we may want to quickly buy some Taurus stock before we start psyching ourselves up for the mother of all  ballistics rants.

At least he's planted the seed and, in fact, a .410 scatter load shares a virtue with the .22 short: it's better than nothing when some perv demands nonconsensual relations.



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*Sample, the teevee head says we're paying for cops so why should we get guns. The sheriff, slowly and carefully, as though to very slow child, says, "We can't be everywhere."

Toro. Buy a Toro

A couple of posts down I reported a Toro leaf blower kaput and said I planned a desultory repair effort even though it's already survived years of use, abuse, and neglect beyond any reasonable expectations.  I now report success and urge you to  buy Toro.

1. The thing is logically constructed.  Somewhere in Minnesota (Toro Country) lives an engineer whose brilliance includes this thought. "Y' know, the guy who owns this might have to fix it some day, so let's build it so he can." May he live a prosperous thousand years and people the land with his offspring.

2. Meaning the screws come out cleanly. The case pops apart without releasing springs and other small parts all over your shop. Everything that makes it go is visible and reachable.

3. Reassembly is aided by logically place guide pins and slots. And most importantly, by room for the wires! I know of no Toro competitor offering this feature. They find it amusing to design their gizmos so that reassembly places wiring in immovable positions between what should be mated surfaces of the plastic covers.

4. The problem was simple enough. A safety interlock went bad. Now, a less responsible citizen than myself would have simply bypassed the device, a three-minute chore requiring six inches of fine wire, four inches of electrical tape and a pair of pliers. I would never do such a thing. I just put it back together and somehow, like magic, it started blowing leaves again. Then I sent email to the CPSC reporting what a good boy I am.

In case I forgot to mention it, you should buy Toro stuff. (FTC disclaimer pending.)

A wee bit more on search and seizure

A couple of readers seemed interested enough to want to see the full text of the Iowa Supreme Court decision restricting willy-nilly cop searches when you're busted for a faulty license plate light.

The decision text.

There's also a political element working.

The decision was 5-1, Waterman dissenting. The seventh justice, Mansfield, sat it out because he was on the appellate court which upheld the illegal search of the defendant's truck.

Both Waterman and Mansfield are new justices, appointed this year because of a strange development.

In 2009 the high court offended social conservatives by ruling, unanimously, that the Iowa Constitution forbade a ban on gay marriages.  For this the Vander Platts Window Peeps* decided to oust every justice up for retention.They succeeded, and three justices were ejected, two of them  replaced by the authoritarians Waterman and Mansfield.

So, if you dislike judges prone to give the cops everything they want,** your preliminary "no" voting list should include Their Honors Waterman and Mansfield. Of course your decision won't be that easy if you agree that a vital government function is restricting the spouse pool for the GLBT set.

(The third new judge, Bruce Zager, agreed with the majority that jackbooted intrusions need severe limits.)

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**Vander Platts was once most notable for losing his elections. Then, for a time this year, he  enjoyed a good deal of national media attention as the Iowa Caucuses kingmaker because he purports to lead the anti-sin brigades around here. Not so much, lately.  His Queen Bachmann and King Perry have raved themselves into ridicule. His tentative King Cain seems to have indulged in a little grabass with office girls, which Vander Platts woulld see as  anti-scriptural. And his other  King-pro-tem, Santorum,  just can't seem to turn his wife's muffins into political support.

**...because officer safety is paramount, not to mention battling the scourge of reefer madness.

Sunday morning catch-all

1. The Roseholme girls are still enjoying their new Toro leaf blower. Mine, on the other hand, quit Thursday. Just up  and died while blowing heartily. I suspect a bad switch or  broken internal wire. I am resolved to make one half-hearted attempt to worry the plastic cover apart and repair any obvious problem.  One-half of one hour is dedicated to this mission. On the 31st minute the sucker either blows leaves or goes landfilling. Aside: You'd think an $80 machine would last longer than 13 years, even if it did get frequently rained on.

2. A pal and I spent yesterday morning at the fine little Windom loophole.  I bought nothing worth mentioning, but wouldn't have missed it for the world. Many classics. A ton of military stuff from webbing to Garands to 1911s. Two of the .45s stood out. One definitely original -- no hint of arsenal work, smooth metal and much blue still present -- carried a $1,250  ask. It made me go "hmmmm," but in the end I passed. Probably a mistake, but I'm already a  little over budget for lethality this this month.

3. On Dawn Patrol this morning,  New Dog Libby caught a walleye. It hadn't been dead too many days. Nevertheless, I am experimenting with breath mints in her drinking water.

4. The new Iowa Poll on the presidential caucuses is out. Cain and Romney lead in the low/middle 20s Good Doctor Ron Paul is third with 12 per cent. Other members of the Romney-Cain Bokanovsky Group are at 8 per cent or less. This poll has historically been as good as they come in measuring caucus-goer sentiment  but, in the end,  no poll does much more than quantify the effects of recent noise coming out of our electric teevee sets.

5. There an ash of opportunity down on some nearby homeowner association property, and the weather is so nice I think I'll go get it this afternoon. I'm a bit short on firewood. Finders-keepers.

Irish eyes got bleary

So, Padraig. So Brigid -- me brothers and sisters of the old sod -- you've got yourselves a new president, have ya?

And doesn't our own Associated Press say the Mike Higgens ya behinded is "a veteran left-wing politician, poet and human rights activist, ... pledged to lift the spirits of a struggling nation."


And ain't ya the fools, ya babblin', ballad-singin'  bog trotters. By Jayzus, Mary, and Joseph ya can lift your own spirits if ya open your bleedin' eyes and notice that your pockets are empty as the head of a Limey leftenant but you're still spending like the lairds who stole Ulster.

Ya didn't need a rhyme-prating, warmed-over socialist now did ya? And what it was ya needed was a fokken certified public account,  didn't ya now? And don't I -- son of sons of Leinster pike men -- call it gobshittery?

You're supposed to fleece American tourists down around Blarney Castle, not kiss the fokken rock yourselves and vote in the bloody arses who french it every day.

Say, is that ol' 4th Amendment starting to breathe again?

I told you Iowa was still free soil, more or less. Free-ish, anyway.

A cop stops you for some piddling offense. He resolves that and wonders, "Now, you don't mind if I go fishing take a quick look in your car do you Sir?"

You nod "okay" because Officer Friendly, what with his big pistol and creaky leather, club, Mace, and all can look pretty intimidating. And he seems nice enough. He asked nicely and called you "sir," didn't he?

Then he found that pinch of pot you must have forgotten to take out of the pickup. You're busted, cuffed, and in for a ride to town because you didn't say, "No thanks, Officer." After you think about it in the tank for a while you realize you  were flim-flammed and decide to take it all the way to the the state supreme court. You did, and

Justices in a 5-1 decision stopped just short of instituting new rules for Iowa law enforcement agents but strongly signaled their view that traffic stops on the side of public highways are “inherently coercive” and therefore can give rise to improper pressure on motorists to agree to vehicle searches.


They ruled the search illegal and the "evidence" therefore inadmissible. They said:


Iowa police officers would do well – but are not yet required – to warn motorists that they don’t have to let authorities search their vehicles during minor traffic stops, the Iowa Supreme Court ruled this morning.


The dissenting justice said:

(a) He didn't want to handicap the police. (He's apparently fine with handicapping the Constitution and the citizens whom it was created to protect -- from the police, among others).

(b) His view is closer to the federal government's opinion.  (Good God, man, you consider that a virtue?)

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Note to the motorist involved here: Glad you won it. Now get off the pot. Stoners tend to screw up their lives at a higher rate than folks who can handle reality.

ALERT! Emergency Grips Nation; Senators Vow Action

The Big 12 crisis escalated sharply this week when Louisvile (a Kentucky school of sorts) became suspected of sabotaging University of West Virginia plans to join the conference.  It quickly became a matter of vital national interest .

At least that seems to be the opinion of the two senators from West Virginia, Jay Rockefeller and Joe Manchin, who say they’ll do whatever it takes to fulfill the mission, even if it means a Congressional investigation. 


Look, you idiotic gobshites, this is not the kind of thing we pay senators for.

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Dr. Rand Paul to the ramparts. STAT.

The GOP follies, hog lot editon; Iowa Caucuses 2012

It's all set, gang. Florida and Nevada hang their heads in repentant shame, meaning  the Iowa Caucuses will not be held on Christmas Eve: The schedule:

January 3 -- Iowa caucuses

January 10 -- Hew Hampshire primary

January 21 -- South Carolina primary

January 31 -- Florida primary

February 4 -- Nevada caucuses

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Those of you with a bent for history will wish to note that Iowans caucus on the anniversary of Martin Luther's excommunication by Pope Leo X, leading directly to development of of the church basement dinner and, ultimately, invention of the crock pot.

In New Hampshire,  Republicans will vote on the date of Thomas Paine's publication of "Common Sense." They will choose Mitt Romney, proving that Paine's literary effort ultimately came to nought.

The South Carolina vote celebrates the birthday of John M. Browning, PBUH. He deserves better.

The Florida geezers will interfere with what should be a solemn commemoration. On January 31, 1606, the English executed Guy Fawkes  and his buddies for trying to blow up King and Parliament.  C'mon, Your Lordships. Should have been noll prossed or, at worst, tried as a simple misdemeanor.

The Nevada caucuses occur on the date Benjamin Palmer patented the artificial leg. This is politically important, leading as it did to a  Chicago development where Democrats were inspired to patent the artificial vote.

John M. Browning, economist

A fine internet  perk is running across things far more valuable than what you were  looking for. I was Binging for an insignificant detail about John M. Browning and found a passage about him at age 13 or so.

A freighter stopped by his dad's gun works and gave John M. a "high-quality shotgun" which had been smashed up. The boy set out to renew it. His first efforts fizzled.

"Finally the idea came. A good idea starts a celebration in the mind, and every nerve in the body seems to crowd up to see the fireworks. It was a good idea, one of the best I ever had, and so simple it made me ashamed of myself. Boylike, I had been trying to do the job all at once with some kind of magic. And magic never made a gun that would work.* I decided to take the gun apart, piece by piece, down to the last small screw, even though [the] parts that were mashed and twisted together. And when I did, finally finishing long after supper that night, the pieces all spread out before me on the bench, I examined each piece and discovered that there wasn't one that I couldn't make myself, if I had too. If I had been in school that day, I would have missed a valuable lesson"


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*Or an economy, either,  he surely would have said if someone had asked him.


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I probably would have found that less striking if I hadn't just reviewed the magical incantations about the Greek bailout.

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Thank you Ron Shirtz

The Keystone Pipeline

I am undertaking a study of the Keystone Pipeline controversy. When you do something like that it is a good idea to examine the basic mindset of the opponents. 

I conclude that pipeline naysayers know that a candle of biodegradable soybean wax is a near-perfect accompaniment to a romantic dinner with Jean Seberg. 

A series of logical steps takes them from there to belief it is also useful for powering Consolidated  Edison's dynamos.

Who's winning? Ron Paul. That's who

A  report on Iowans' contributions to presidential candidates through mid-October:


Texas Rep. Ron Paul and former Massachusetts Gov. Mitt Romney led the Republican candidates in contributions from Iowa. Paul garnered more than $77,000, while Romney pulled in more than $67,000.

Gee, you'd think the leader, who outpaced the runnerup  -- a man with a much better haircut -- by better than 12 per cent,  might have rated his own little paragraph.

The other GOPers shared $110,000. Obama collected $200,000

Oh, go ahead and close the damned post offices. See if I care.

Pokey, my RFD postman,  comes by every day but Sunday.  I get the mail about twice a week. It's a gift.

I haven't achieved that self autonomy of Travis McGee who once told us that the true test of independence was throwing away mail without looking to see who it came from. He adds that women never achieve this satori. "They always have to look."

So do I most of the time. Such as this morning. A complete list of USPS leavings since last I trudged the 80 yards to the box

-- A sincerely personal  birthday card from my state rep, bar coded.

--  A Capitol One come-on for a high-limit, high-reward credit card, promising in the large print that I can buy everything I want and fly free in the bargain. I didn't read the agate because I suspect that, depressingly, it says I have to pay it all back.

-- A J.C. Penny announcement that as an "amazing customer"  I can earn discounts and  "points" for spending a lot of money over two separate shopping days. I amazed Mr. Penney by getting a credit card last year (two minutes, at the  checkout) and buying a couple-three hundred worth of Christmas gifts strictly for the 15 per cent discount to new credit slaves. I amazed him further by walking directly from checkout to customer service and writing a check for the balance due-- the prices less 15 per cent. Haven't been in the place since. A human accountant would find this an amazingly good reason to jerk my Penney plastic. His computer programmers may eventually get around to it.

--  A spritely brochure from Congressman Steve King warning that my president is balancing the budget (bullshit) on my back and those of my fellow old farts. King, a small-government conservative, awakens my fear that I might not get as much free shit as I want unless I call to thank him for being a great small-government conservative who makes my neighbors pay for my health care.

--  A  dignified letter from a regional funeral outfit, offering me the chance to "pre-plan" my departure ceremonies. I reject this instantly on grounds of  linguistic asymmetry. The single alternative is to post-plan the party, and, despite some formal training in logical processes, I can't think of how this could be effectuated.

-- Two more reminders that it's open enrollment season for insurance switching. These get pitched unopened.  Even if AARP and United Health Care aren't lying very much, I don't figure the free shit I'm already getting from my neighbors, thanks to small-government-conservative Congressman King,  can get much freer.

-- A cable/net connection bill. Check for rate increase (yep, but small). Then pitch it. Thank you Autopay.

-- The local shopper from last Wednesday which I should read in order to identify the good auctions occurring last weekend.

The lesson of the standing willow

When a comely lady  distracts you as you install a fresh chain on your Stihl, you might might put it on backwards. You will discover this when you try to fell the middling-size willow that's leaning too far over your driveway.

No, moving to the other side of the tree is not a solution.

Connected Nation and your human right to get the Travis McGee Reader free and fast.

Take a hundred Iowans.*

Ask them about their internet connections. You will be told -- or at least an outfit called Connect Iowa says you'll be told -- that 37 of them lack broadband. Round the numbers and call them the deprived third.


This amazes me because more than a year ago my president announced an end to the horror. Some  $7 billion in economic recovery money  was being printed --strike that  -- was being dispatched to ensure that very Montana line camp had instant  access to freakysheep.xxx.  (Okay, If you insist on quibbling, His Obamaness  took Charlie McBiden out of the suitcase and spoke through him. But you must admit you could see presidential lips moving.)

The underbuzz in the Connect Iowa report is a wail of anguish about our poor deprived rurals stuck with something between zero and 56k downloads. To be fair, however,  the group did ask the 37 "why?" and published the answers.


"(Shrieksperson Amy) Kuhler says the largest reason given for not having broadband access was they didn’t feel it was relevant and they didn’t need to have access. ...16% said they didn’t have a computer, 15% said security was an issue, and 10% said broadband was too complicated to figure out. "


That is,  they don't want it.

That leaves just seven bucolic souls out of a hundred who might want to get your blog megabytally but can't.

So, of course, "Kuhlers says they will use the survey results to address some of the connection issues."  Translation: We intend to soak you for the money to buy high speed for Gus Porcina, 85, who lives over on Hogpoo Creek.


I wonder if Connect Iowa has really pondered the  amazing free-market truth revealed in its own study:  "Kuhlers says the top reason Iowans gave for using broadband is they realized it was worth the cost." 


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Why so many words on what might seem a minor topic?

Because Connect Iowa is a bucolic appendage to the national Connected Nation, which is coy about who's paying the propaganda bills. I mean, good shriekspeople like Amy don't come cheap.

In a profile prepared for journalists, Connected Nation poses as one of its "Frequently Asked Questions" "How is Connected Nation funded?" it cryptically responds that "Connected Nation is primarily funded through public-private partnerships." It provides no details of what exactly the partnerships are or who they are with.


I am winging it here,  based on some personal experience with these 501c(3) oufits who  "partner " their tax-free donations with your compulsory tax donations.  Often, a private firm or trade group  wants a nice income, but can't  actually sell products. They could, however, give them away if they could solve the cash-flow problem that creates. And they do, quite creatively. They lash together a "non-profit"  and hire Amy et al. to create the illusion of a pressing social need. And doesn't government exist solely to meet pressing social needs? 


Ergo,  government must buy the product and give it to the customer, making it free. What a good idea, especially if that  part about the seven billion dollars sort of slips your mind.




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* Let me pick the hundred, and I mean the statement quite literally.

Hey! Which way is there, and are we almost there yet?

A jealous rage has gripped me ever since the more dependable truck took up residence at Camp J.  Most of my peers own vehicles equipped with magic boxes they call GPS. I had none. Action was required.

It is one of the large, heavy old Airguides with many good features. The only bad one  is the difficulty of mounting without drilling ugly holes in the more dependable dash board. That is temporarily solved with gaffer's tape. The primary delights are: (1) Absence of a shrill old crone yelling at me to turn right or left or park the SOB and go back to driver's ed. (2) Knowledge that the satellite where the magical Turn-Left-NOW! witch lives will likely fall from the sky before Gentle Gaea changes her magnetic corset.

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It is possible to go too far in adapting perfectly good retrotechnology to land-borne vessels. But it would be fun to try.

Yes, THAT Kelvin.

For precise navigation, of course, a speed input is necessary.

Still, I am willing to concede that the bitch in the electronic box arranges for my buddies to get lost with far greater precision than is possible for me. For instance, there was this time in Sioux Falls when my pal followed her directions to the digital letter en route to a big loophole festival. We ended near a sheep pen, in a Superfund site I think, not too far from the state prison. There were no guns to loophole in the immediate area, but we knew within  three yards just where we were. Lost. At.

Obama lite sidebar; the Candy is Dandy guy

The snippit  in the previous post is from Nash's "Kindly Unhitch That Star, Buddy." It's funny in a laid-back 19 30s/40s sort of way. Like a lot of other Nash stuff, it extends some Mencken ideas in rhyme and meter so atrocious you will at least giggle.

In a sense, Nash the poet (or scribbler of doggeral to academic anals who don't like him) parodies poetry.

Obama lite

Yes, that's a confusing headline. Obviously it refers to someone other than Obama who, himself, has set a liteness record which ought to send all competitors scurrying.

I speak here of  "lite "only in the mental and moral senses. The president's ambition is heavy beyond belief. That is, he wishes to continue being president. Outsized ambition is depressingly common. As the great sociologist Ogden Nash reported, everybody wants to be a wow.

...all the little process-servers hope to  

    grow up into great big bailiffim and sheriffim.

One lite competitor who won't scurry is Mitt Romney, subject of a short and cogent item in the Washington Examiner.


Writer Douglas MacKinnon offers samples of Romney policiy differing from Obama policy in ways detectable only by advanced science using the most sensitive instruments. If at all.

And then he wonders:

Are you kidding me?  Is anyone in the GOP paying attention to what is going on here?  Is the Republican establishment so desperate to hold on to its power that it will continually look the other way as a chameleon-like candidate not only dreams up the ideas used by far-left Obama White House, but praises one of the people most reviled by the conservative movement?


The short answers to "Are you kidding me?" and "Is anyone in the GOP establishment paying attention...?"  are "no" and  "no."  They are also the long answers.
.

Silence Citizen!

1 -- -- I probably wouldn't  like this woman. For one thing, I'm suspicious of people who write  dramatic "diaries" obviously meant for publication. Nevertheless:

2. -- I would hate existing in a nation where people like Amy do not exist or where, worse,  the thugs of The Power have succeeded  in cowing them into obedient silence and cheerful submission.

3. -- Assuming Amy reported accurately in her personal journal, she was detained, harassed, mistreated, and arrested ("disorderly conduct") for the crime of reciting The Fourth Amendment as the TSA in Albuquerque prepared  to backhand her groin.

Tam and Popehat (H/T to each) write cogent takes on the outrage. But one more angle, if you please:

By the time the following dialogue took place, airport cops had handcuffed the woman (before arresting her and without Mirandizing her) and taken her driving license and other possessions. Officer Friendly and his fellows were just going by the book.

Amy: "I wasn't under arrest. You had no right to take anything from me. What if you(r) book doesn't follow the Constitution, the highest law in the land?"

Cop:  "It's not that big a deal.* It's for everyone's safety. We don't want to take the risk. You don't have to fly you know. You give up your rights when you fly."** 

 A quick review: This woman did not refuse to submit to a privates-probe by  the on-duty federal groper. She did not propose to physically resist any part of intimate search by a stranger. All she did was recite the Constitutional basis for her opinion that -- while she might have to be felt up -- she damned sure didn't have to approve of it.


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* -- If the cop really believed that, we're in even more trouble than we thought because he didn't come up with the Constitutional analysis on his own. He was regurgitating settled policy as handed down by the Inner Party.  When O'Brien is authorized to distinguish between trivial rights and important ones,  the Constitution becomes a quaint relic of the world before Oceania.  


** -- So, as we walk along the street, we are citizens. But a mysterious occurrence takes over when we are aloft, making us, instead, subjects. Not by law, but by decree. See Inner Party, supra.










   

Not even Huey Long could have come up with this

Let's suppose I sell you a nice early Travis McGee paperback for two dollars. Then, within a month, I sell you another one for cash, real cash -- two singles,  40 nickels, whatever.

In Louisiana, that makes me a criminal.


“Anyone, other than a nonprofit entity, who buys, sells, trades in or otherwise acquires or disposes of junk or used or secondhand property more frequently than once per month from any other person, other than a nonprofit entity, shall be deemed as being in the business of a secondhand dealer.


“A secondhand dealer,” the law continues, “shall not enter into any cash transactions in payment for the purchase of junk or used or secondhand property.”


The idiots who enacted this aggressive tyranny are glorying in the notion that they have solved copper-theft problems.  If a few hundred mothers nabbed for selling their kids' outgrown toys and clothes are sent to jail, why, that's  just the price we pay for law and order here in the Land of the Free.

"You in charge of gettin' dem pitch forks, Rabidoux. Me'en Evangeline gonna make up da torches."


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It 's beyond merely obvious what this means for us loopholers. You find the two-dollar guard screw you need at the parts dealer's table. He, and you, are required to complete the transaction by check or money order or, perhaps, credit card.  Government must have its paper trail.

Who loves this, Baby?

Well, the BATFE-I-E-I-O, TSA, and the rest of the homeland security apparatchik of course. Restoring small-ring Mausers is an obvious terrorist threat.

But if it isn't giving the IRS ideas I'll kiss your arse in Preservation Hall and pay for the videographing.

(H/T my favorite member of the military/industrial complex.)