Love to own a nice mouflon but too chicken to go to Iraq and and get one?
A fellow with a Rocking H brand down in Texas is the man to see.
For a little more money you can have your own kudu to pet without having to brave African savannas.
Even if your local zoning thugs won't let you keep a back yard mouflon -- or if you can't afford a kudu (which you can't) -- it's an interesting site. Everything from exotics on the hoof to home decor items fashioned from deceased examples.
(FTC: Screw off. Don't even know the man. Wish I did.)
.
Jan 17, 2012
Just housekeeping
The Mac laptop threw a rod Saturday, and the TMR comes to you via a 20th Century desktop with wide white sidewalls, fender skirts, and a foxtail on the radio antenna. It runs, but the tappet noise is driving me nuts.
Expect delays.
Expect delays.
Jan 14, 2012
Gun auction giggle
To be sold tomorrow at an auction near me:
"Hi-Standard USA Model H-D 22 long rifle, practice gun."
I think I'll go and practice bidding; always liked that H-D Military iron, and the "practice" may be a country auctioneer's way of describing a higher-grade target model.
H-Ds remind me of English automobiles from my youth -- lots of fun, very sporty, just so long as you don't mind tuning them up every week or so. And they nicely illustrate a British (and French, for that matter) principle of industrial design. "I say, Cyril, why use only one part when three will make it work almost as well."
(This comes to mind because I've been reading more about Obama's passion for EuroSoc economic designs. It's just a revival of the recurring American notion that it's very hip and cool to import horse apples from the Old World and see if they taste better here.)
(This comes to mind because I've been reading more about Obama's passion for EuroSoc economic designs. It's just a revival of the recurring American notion that it's very hip and cool to import horse apples from the Old World and see if they taste better here.)
---
Also a Remington No. 4 in .22. Hmmmm. Don't need one of, course, but...
UPDATE: The High Standard was so-so and brought in the $400s. Out of the question. (No one knew why the "practice" word was used.) The No. 4 was fair. I was the second-highest bidder at something like $275, and, on reflection, I'm glad not to own it. There's no shortage of wall hangers around here.
UPDATE: The High Standard was so-so and brought in the $400s. Out of the question. (No one knew why the "practice" word was used.) The No. 4 was fair. I was the second-highest bidder at something like $275, and, on reflection, I'm glad not to own it. There's no shortage of wall hangers around here.
Jan 13, 2012
Dear Diary
While trying to decide if I have enough ambition to whip a Big Post into shape, let me share some domestic matters.
1. The cleaning tizzy went well, and I able to receive the unexpected visitors with minimal shame. (No fresh shelf paper was installed in the canned goods locker, of course. That was a joke. I can recall no instance in a long life of having actually laid shelf paper. I think most males could say the same. Women, on the other hand, are generally incapable of survival in house whose cupboards lack the amenity. I suggest this data could underpin an important MA thesis.)
2. Marking an important passage: This morning, New Dog Libby discovered she could reach food placed well back on the counter. I entered the kitchen just a few seconds too late and observed an unusual thing. I hope all of you may one day encounter a brown lab who can manage a look which is simultaneously guilty and smug.
1. The cleaning tizzy went well, and I able to receive the unexpected visitors with minimal shame. (No fresh shelf paper was installed in the canned goods locker, of course. That was a joke. I can recall no instance in a long life of having actually laid shelf paper. I think most males could say the same. Women, on the other hand, are generally incapable of survival in house whose cupboards lack the amenity. I suggest this data could underpin an important MA thesis.)
2. Marking an important passage: This morning, New Dog Libby discovered she could reach food placed well back on the counter. I entered the kitchen just a few seconds too late and observed an unusual thing. I hope all of you may one day encounter a brown lab who can manage a look which is simultaneously guilty and smug.
Jan 12, 2012
But first -- Gun Sale Flash
How about a chance to buy more than a dozen MI carbines, several GI 1911s and A1s? Or old Colt and SW wheelers, or EBRs by the dozen -- all in one place? And that isn't the half of it. Some 500 guns -- most of them interesting -- go on the block in nine days.
It's as good an excuse as you'll ever have to visit Arcadia, Iowa.
The link gives you an overview and will take you to each individual weapon. There's also a portal to internet bidding, just in case you somehow omitted putting Arcadia on your bucket list.
Be alert to the 10 per cent internet buyer premium and the transfer fees. Also, if I were you I wouldn't put a lot of trust in the net bids listed so far being actual bids.
I'd like to attend, but probably won't. A full weekend in that kind of crowd is beyond my tolerance limit. Besides, I could probably spend my entire net worth in the first two hours, and I doubt Ben will print up three of four pounds of new C-notes just for me.
It's as good an excuse as you'll ever have to visit Arcadia, Iowa.
The link gives you an overview and will take you to each individual weapon. There's also a portal to internet bidding, just in case you somehow omitted putting Arcadia on your bucket list.
Be alert to the 10 per cent internet buyer premium and the transfer fees. Also, if I were you I wouldn't put a lot of trust in the net bids listed so far being actual bids.
I'd like to attend, but probably won't. A full weekend in that kind of crowd is beyond my tolerance limit. Besides, I could probably spend my entire net worth in the first two hours, and I doubt Ben will print up three of four pounds of new C-notes just for me.
Weather flash; South Carolina flash
Locally in the Camp J vicinity ... the revised forecast calls for a 60 per cent chance of unexpected visitors, leading to a severe housekeeping event. Be on the lookout for sweeping, dishwashing, gusts of extreme dusting ... along with possible window washing and a lesser chance of shelf paper. ... all resulting in lowered expections for sustained verbal output over the next 8-to-16 hours.
---
In South Carolina, hazy conditions continue to reduce visibility to near zero in the salt marshes up to a short-hoot and half-holler in higher elevations. While an evangelical innundation remains possible, forecasters point to demographic data showing hard-shell, high-wind affiliates make no more than one-third of the population, while close to half of all Baja Kalankians report no church afiliation atall. Ground reports are numerous of Ron Paul sightings from low-country snob territory up to the good-ol-Piedmont-folk hills.
---
Further events as they happen, so keep it right here on KAY-TEE-EM-ARE, the Big Voice of the Big Country.
---
In South Carolina, hazy conditions continue to reduce visibility to near zero in the salt marshes up to a short-hoot and half-holler in higher elevations. While an evangelical innundation remains possible, forecasters point to demographic data showing hard-shell, high-wind affiliates make no more than one-third of the population, while close to half of all Baja Kalankians report no church afiliation atall. Ground reports are numerous of Ron Paul sightings from low-country snob territory up to the good-ol-Piedmont-folk hills.
---
Further events as they happen, so keep it right here on KAY-TEE-EM-ARE, the Big Voice of the Big Country.
Jan 11, 2012
Uh oh. Black Helicopter Alert
The TMR this afternoon suffered a no-knock entry from the Eff Bee Eye snoop service.
They found me via Speaker Tweaker who could not possibly be a confidential informant, so I can only suppose he's a listed subsersive, too.
It may be too late, but a tinfoil hat goes on my modem right now.
They found me via Speaker Tweaker who could not possibly be a confidential informant, so I can only suppose he's a listed subsersive, too.
It may be too late, but a tinfoil hat goes on my modem right now.
Well I'll be a simulated SOB
It is against the law in Iowa to pretend to be drunk in the park.
I'm safe enough cuz I write most all of my stuff snug in my Camp J sanctuary. But I guess it means I can never go Wi-Fi mobile.
---
JAGSC -- anyone-- what the Hell kind of reasoning creates a law like this?
I'm safe enough cuz I write most all of my stuff snug in my Camp J sanctuary. But I guess it means I can never go Wi-Fi mobile.
---
JAGSC -- anyone-- what the Hell kind of reasoning creates a law like this?
Okay, so I'm ignorant of the law
I'm not a real criminal, but I play one on the internet, so I'm surprised to find a new crime I didn't know about.
Over in Osage, someone called the cops because an ER nurse was acting funny, and the wheels of justice turned.
(She) faces one count of possession of drug paraphernalia, one count of simulated public intoxication and one count of theft as well as three counts of possession of a controlled substance and one count of possession of contraband in a correctional facility. She’s pleaded not guilty.
Simulated public intox? Does that mean we can lock up the Reverend Mister Al Sharpton, too?
Over in Osage, someone called the cops because an ER nurse was acting funny, and the wheels of justice turned.
(She) faces one count of possession of drug paraphernalia, one count of simulated public intoxication and one count of theft as well as three counts of possession of a controlled substance and one count of possession of contraband in a correctional facility. She’s pleaded not guilty.
Simulated public intox? Does that mean we can lock up the Reverend Mister Al Sharpton, too?
Note to Roddy McDowell: No, I can't feel the warm anymore
On this day we depart fantasy and greet the return of reality. Yesterday -- and for a remarkable part of the winter of 2011/'12 -- a tee shirt under flannel under a windbreaker was all we needed topside for outdoor work. I thank all of you who cooperated by venting flourocarbons into the atmosphere.
This morning, back inside after a little sunrise exercise at the woodpile, I recall with thanks the disrobed nun* who created my thick red wool socks and again publicly praise my lovely daughter for an even higher quality hand-knit watch cap.
Rain and snow, becoming all snow after noon. Temperature falling to around 22 by 5pm. Windy, with a north northwest wind between 28 and 31 mph, with gusts as high as 45 mph ...snow accumulation of less than 1 inch possible.
Tonight: Scattered flurries after midnight...low around 8. Blustery, with a north northwest wind between 26 and 29 mph, with gusts as high as 38 mph.
Still, only three or four days in the 15-day forecast are supposed to be much below normal, and several of them are to be in the balmy 30s. Plus, no snow or not enough to matter. Plus, in just 14 days, the averages become our ally, rising one degree to 26 for daily highs, pushing us inexorably into the season of the dandelion and the narrow-leaved weeds requiring frequent mowing.
Time to get my Speedo out of storage.
---
*Absolutely true
This morning, back inside after a little sunrise exercise at the woodpile, I recall with thanks the disrobed nun* who created my thick red wool socks and again publicly praise my lovely daughter for an even higher quality hand-knit watch cap.
Rain and snow, becoming all snow after noon. Temperature falling to around 22 by 5pm. Windy, with a north northwest wind between 28 and 31 mph, with gusts as high as 45 mph ...snow accumulation of less than 1 inch possible.
Tonight: Scattered flurries after midnight...low around 8. Blustery, with a north northwest wind between 26 and 29 mph, with gusts as high as 38 mph.
Still, only three or four days in the 15-day forecast are supposed to be much below normal, and several of them are to be in the balmy 30s. Plus, no snow or not enough to matter. Plus, in just 14 days, the averages become our ally, rising one degree to 26 for daily highs, pushing us inexorably into the season of the dandelion and the narrow-leaved weeds requiring frequent mowing.
Time to get my Speedo out of storage.
---
*Absolutely true
Jan 10, 2012
The Associated Press in New Hampshire reports...
... that Mitt said: "If I am president of the United States, I will not forget New Hampshire,"
Translation: About your votes, people. If you're selling, I'm buying. Hideous, but politics as usual. It's just that Romney has been losing control of his tongue lately and needs a state-of-the art teleprompter as bad as His Ineptness. But this is an attributed quotation and therefore not the AP's fault.
This is:
Third place was being discussed as the equivalent of a win for much of the field because Paul, the quirky Texas congressman, seemed to have a lock on the No. 2 spot.
So, the world's greatest wire service, on it's own, in a narrative, assumes the authority to inform the world who is and is not quirky -- and thus how the significance of the voters' choices should be measured.
Not so very long ago, that sort of editorializing in a straight news report would have landed the AP reporter's partisan or incompetent ass in the street -- right on top of the editor who filed it to the wire.
C'mon AssPress. Give yourself something to be proud of for a change.
Translation: About your votes, people. If you're selling, I'm buying. Hideous, but politics as usual. It's just that Romney has been losing control of his tongue lately and needs a state-of-the art teleprompter as bad as His Ineptness. But this is an attributed quotation and therefore not the AP's fault.
This is:
Third place was being discussed as the equivalent of a win for much of the field because Paul, the quirky Texas congressman, seemed to have a lock on the No. 2 spot.
So, the world's greatest wire service, on it's own, in a narrative, assumes the authority to inform the world who is and is not quirky -- and thus how the significance of the voters' choices should be measured.
Not so very long ago, that sort of editorializing in a straight news report would have landed the AP reporter's partisan or incompetent ass in the street -- right on top of the editor who filed it to the wire.
C'mon AssPress. Give yourself something to be proud of for a change.
The Guns of Moronia
A spotty video, but it has enough laugh snips to make it worthwhile. And, for you prurients, there's the occasional set of hot-brass catchers or, if you prefer, hot brass catchers.
--
(via email, from my pardner John of the GMA)
--
(via email, from my pardner John of the GMA)
Monkeys of the Corn
The apes and other hairy primates are not all in New Hampshire today. They're here. They threaten.
Some are full-fledged war monkeys, obstructing justice, interfering with official acts, and assaulting our police officers. (A common-sense monkey-control law is needed: One stuffed monk a month; full background check; strict may-issue permit system to carry.)
Others are bigger but more benign and show human-like abilities to communicate via simple symbols and engage in rudimentary thought processes. There are nine of the them, but we can't afford that many bananas so we're looking for a good home for the two orangutans. We'll keep the bonabos.
Up until yesterday we thought there were ten in all, but close scientific examination revealed that one one had just become confused and wandered in. Researchers hosed him down, handed him a plantain, and took him back to his seat in the legislature.
---
Iowa official brains freeze in February and melt in July. It isn't enough to aspire to make Iowa the world center for the study of equatorial apes. We actually begged and received gazillions in federal money to create a tropical rain forest down by one of the big Corp of Engineers lakes. We gave most of it back after The Van Der Platts Peeps and other spiritual leaders learned that jungles harbor people who run around naked and don't tithe.
Some are full-fledged war monkeys, obstructing justice, interfering with official acts, and assaulting our police officers. (A common-sense monkey-control law is needed: One stuffed monk a month; full background check; strict may-issue permit system to carry.)
Others are bigger but more benign and show human-like abilities to communicate via simple symbols and engage in rudimentary thought processes. There are nine of the them, but we can't afford that many bananas so we're looking for a good home for the two orangutans. We'll keep the bonabos.
Up until yesterday we thought there were ten in all, but close scientific examination revealed that one one had just become confused and wandered in. Researchers hosed him down, handed him a plantain, and took him back to his seat in the legislature.
---
Iowa official brains freeze in February and melt in July. It isn't enough to aspire to make Iowa the world center for the study of equatorial apes. We actually begged and received gazillions in federal money to create a tropical rain forest down by one of the big Corp of Engineers lakes. We gave most of it back after The Van Der Platts Peeps and other spiritual leaders learned that jungles harbor people who run around naked and don't tithe.
Jan 9, 2012
The Dynasty Lives
A fresh Kennedy kid is trying to decide if the fate of the Republic depends on offering himself for service in America's high councils.
He's Joe . He says he's earned Barney Frank's seat because, in part, of his "experience." Said experience consists of a tax-paid vacation in the Peace Corps and fully 30 months as county prosecutor. Take that, Iran!
Yes, Joe is one of those Kennedys, and in a properly governed nation that would be automatically disqualifying. Consanguinity, however slight, should be sufficient to complete the offense.
He's Joe . He says he's earned Barney Frank's seat because, in part, of his "experience." Said experience consists of a tax-paid vacation in the Peace Corps and fully 30 months as county prosecutor. Take that, Iran!
Yes, Joe is one of those Kennedys, and in a properly governed nation that would be automatically disqualifying. Consanguinity, however slight, should be sufficient to complete the offense.
Jan 8, 2012
Even Big Brother says something smart once in a great while
For an inglorious instant this morning I was Winston Smith. The Inner Party had fulfilled its threat. I loved Newt Gingrich.
"(Mitt,) can we get rid of the pious baloney?"
"(Mitt,) can we get rid of the pious baloney?"
Jan 7, 2012
The Messiah Oliver North
Produced by the College Young Republicans and rescued from a trash can at the Eisenhower Center, home of the Republican National Committee, late in the Reagan years, in the era when Lt. Col. North was getting somewhere with his argument that, no, the Constitution of the United States of American really wasn't meant to be taken all that seriously.
Jan 6, 2012
New Yawk New Yawk...
...where The Masters can make a criminal out of about anyone, including law-abiding former Marine Ryan Jerome. The only thing between him and a 3-15 slammer term is the good will and good sense of a Manhattan prosecutor. (!)
The offense? Entering the Empire State Building, seeing the "No Guns" sign and asking a rent-a-cop where he could check his pistol. The leased law called the real cops who clapped our man in jail for two days. He is now subject to indictment, depending on what the DA decides.
Jerome is a Hoosier with an Indiana CCW. He said he thought that made him legal in the Big Wormy Apple. He was wrong, of course, and should have obtained better information.
So the penalty for that kind of mistake should be a long stay in Sing Sing?
Bloomberg probably thinks so.
The offense? Entering the Empire State Building, seeing the "No Guns" sign and asking a rent-a-cop where he could check his pistol. The leased law called the real cops who clapped our man in jail for two days. He is now subject to indictment, depending on what the DA decides.
Jerome is a Hoosier with an Indiana CCW. He said he thought that made him legal in the Big Wormy Apple. He was wrong, of course, and should have obtained better information.
So the penalty for that kind of mistake should be a long stay in Sing Sing?
Bloomberg probably thinks so.
Jury Frees Grass Granny; Notorious Drug Lord Walks
A little more than a year ago a little old lady in Connellsville, Pennsylvania was pottering about in her garden when a kindly, bearded stranger in a pointy hat handed her some seeds. She tossed them in her garden and shortly, fee-fie-fo-fum.
No. Wait.
And shortly they grew into seven beautiful marijuana plants, lovingly nurtured by Grandma who just thought they looked nice next to her tomatoes. Didn't know what they were, she said.
That didn't stop a nosy neighbor from squealing, nor did it stay the bold crime-fighters of southwest Pennsylvania. "On the ground, Gramma, You're busted. Do it now!"
And that high-priority law enforcement mission won her a year in the system until this week when a jury cleared her of drug possession and manufacturing charges.
---
At 67, Granny was born about 1945 and achieved maturity in the Age of Aquarius, or the Stoned Age, so I'm adding a pinch of salt to her story about not recognizing a pot plant, not to mention the pointy-capped stranger.
So what?
Two beautiful words: Jury Nullification.
--
H/T to Phyllis in Kalinky, my faithful Appalachia correspondent
No. Wait.
And shortly they grew into seven beautiful marijuana plants, lovingly nurtured by Grandma who just thought they looked nice next to her tomatoes. Didn't know what they were, she said.
That didn't stop a nosy neighbor from squealing, nor did it stay the bold crime-fighters of southwest Pennsylvania. "On the ground, Gramma, You're busted. Do it now!"
And that high-priority law enforcement mission won her a year in the system until this week when a jury cleared her of drug possession and manufacturing charges.
---
At 67, Granny was born about 1945 and achieved maturity in the Age of Aquarius, or the Stoned Age, so I'm adding a pinch of salt to her story about not recognizing a pot plant, not to mention the pointy-capped stranger.
So what?
Two beautiful words: Jury Nullification.
--
H/T to Phyllis in Kalinky, my faithful Appalachia correspondent
Jan 5, 2012
Lego Arms, Inc.
And while I'm skulking around Broad Ripple, peeking in Roseholme Cottage windows, Tam offers a worthwhile take on the perils of plastic glued to what the Glock factory alleges to be guns useful right out of the box.
She grumps about coal-tar sights. My disgust goes a little deeper. Plastic is for covering bowls of leftover chili.
She grumps about coal-tar sights. My disgust goes a little deeper. Plastic is for covering bowls of leftover chili.
Your daily insight
Courtesy of Roberta in her comments section. The instigating post details some of the latest in Hoosier Democrats hooky game over right-to-work legislation. (Apparently the lawmakers hit the mattresses in Illinois to study political ethics under Rahm Emmanuel.)
If government workers drive wages up too far, the government that employs them doesn't end up having to move offshore or go out of business, it just shakes down taxpayers for more.
To which I can add only that it shakes us down somewhat candidly with a direct tax hike, or Secret Squirrelly by revving up the Bureau of Printing and Engraving presses a little more.
The latter produces a tax called "inflation" which lawmakers can blame on greedy business people, or terrorists, or global warming -- in fact, most anyone or anything other than vote-buying asses who happen to possess enough show-biz charisma to get themselves elected to high public office.
If government workers drive wages up too far, the government that employs them doesn't end up having to move offshore or go out of business, it just shakes down taxpayers for more.
To which I can add only that it shakes us down somewhat candidly with a direct tax hike, or Secret Squirrelly by revving up the Bureau of Printing and Engraving presses a little more.
The latter produces a tax called "inflation" which lawmakers can blame on greedy business people, or terrorists, or global warming -- in fact, most anyone or anything other than vote-buying asses who happen to possess enough show-biz charisma to get themselves elected to high public office.
Jan 4, 2012
Blam. From the Mother of the Year
Mrs. McKinley is 18, a mother, and a widow since Christmas. New Year's found her with a phone to 911 in one hand and a 12-gauge double in the other as two hoodlums tried to break into her house.
The 911 call turned out to be as useful as a letter to her congressman. She was kept on the line 21 minutes. No cop appeared to help. The shotgun worked better.
The 911 dispatcher confirmed with McKinley that the doors to her home were locked as she asked again if it was okay to shoot the intruder if he were to come through her door.
"I can't tell you that you can do that but you do what you have to do to protect your baby," the dispatcher told her. McKinley was on the phone with 911 for a total of 21 minutes.
Mrs. McKinley, you do not need Big Brother's permission to keep breathing when a guy with a knife kicks in your door. Or, for that matter, without a knife.
Nitpicking the news story: There was a lot of emphasis on the lady protecting her infant. That may make the cheese more binding, but our heroine had exactly the same right to protect only herself. And the post facto teevee tape was tacky even by the standards of that tasteless industry.
Well done, Young Lady.
---
Somewhere in the land a sensitive soul wails, "Horrific!!! Why didn't she just shoot the knife out of his hand?"
---
h/t To ASM at Random Acts of Patriotism
(link fixed)
The 911 call turned out to be as useful as a letter to her congressman. She was kept on the line 21 minutes. No cop appeared to help. The shotgun worked better.
The 911 dispatcher confirmed with McKinley that the doors to her home were locked as she asked again if it was okay to shoot the intruder if he were to come through her door.
"I can't tell you that you can do that but you do what you have to do to protect your baby," the dispatcher told her. McKinley was on the phone with 911 for a total of 21 minutes.
Mrs. McKinley, you do not need Big Brother's permission to keep breathing when a guy with a knife kicks in your door. Or, for that matter, without a knife.
Nitpicking the news story: There was a lot of emphasis on the lady protecting her infant. That may make the cheese more binding, but our heroine had exactly the same right to protect only herself. And the post facto teevee tape was tacky even by the standards of that tasteless industry.
Well done, Young Lady.
---
Somewhere in the land a sensitive soul wails, "Horrific!!! Why didn't she just shoot the knife out of his hand?"
---
h/t To ASM at Random Acts of Patriotism
(link fixed)
But serously, folks...
If all of Paul's speeches had been delivered with the good-natured fire of his address last night -- as he acknowledged his close third-place finish -- he would have won more caucus votes.
As it happened, his 21per cent is impressive enough, earned in a region in love with massive farm subsidies and disproportionately full of retirees attached to their Social Security checks and subsidized health care.* A place of fervor in its belief that tossing money at schools advances education. A place that argues the morality and effectiveness of laws requiring Americans to burn food in their in their vehicles.
And, yes, it does represent a step forward in the great argument that liberty is preferable in every way to legislative and bureaucratic compulsion. Well done, Dr. Paul, and an appreciative nod to your people who helped make it happen.
---
*Guilty, Your Honor, but begging the Court's leave to offer a brief explanation.
As it happened, his 21per cent is impressive enough, earned in a region in love with massive farm subsidies and disproportionately full of retirees attached to their Social Security checks and subsidized health care.* A place of fervor in its belief that tossing money at schools advances education. A place that argues the morality and effectiveness of laws requiring Americans to burn food in their in their vehicles.
And, yes, it does represent a step forward in the great argument that liberty is preferable in every way to legislative and bureaucratic compulsion. Well done, Dr. Paul, and an appreciative nod to your people who helped make it happen.
---
*Guilty, Your Honor, but begging the Court's leave to offer a brief explanation.
Morning after
We're within a few hours of "The WHERE caucuses?"
But right now the frat party continues with the cable networks crawling around on the carpet, scarfing up the pizza crusts with a little red sauce left on them, draining the Bud Lite cans abandoned by coeds who passed out early, and wondering who left her bra around the nerdy pledge's neck.
New Hampshire, it's your turn, and welcome to it. Meanwhile, if you'll pardon it, I need to think about those lacy step-ins someone pinned to my toga.
---
While I'm doing that, feel free to gather your own group and rehearse a hymn of thanksgiving to Iowa for awarding you two big winners, a pair of small-government conservatives dedicated to civil liberties, the rule of rational law, restrained government spending, and federally mandated teaching of both creationism and the Lammanite theory in America's public schools. Oh, and plenty of earmarked pork for the Pennsylvania Black-Lung zone.
Crazy old Grandpa Paul? Well, about one out of five Republicans opined that he might have a point or two, a moral victory. It must be comforting to the statist wing of the GOP that moral victories correspond to peeing in your blue serge suit. They can't end ethanol mandates. They can't phase out Uncle Sam bent over, grasping his ankles, inviting one and all, foreign and domestic, to work their will on our personal wallets.
But right now the frat party continues with the cable networks crawling around on the carpet, scarfing up the pizza crusts with a little red sauce left on them, draining the Bud Lite cans abandoned by coeds who passed out early, and wondering who left her bra around the nerdy pledge's neck.
New Hampshire, it's your turn, and welcome to it. Meanwhile, if you'll pardon it, I need to think about those lacy step-ins someone pinned to my toga.
---
While I'm doing that, feel free to gather your own group and rehearse a hymn of thanksgiving to Iowa for awarding you two big winners, a pair of small-government conservatives dedicated to civil liberties, the rule of rational law, restrained government spending, and federally mandated teaching of both creationism and the Lammanite theory in America's public schools. Oh, and plenty of earmarked pork for the Pennsylvania Black-Lung zone.
Crazy old Grandpa Paul? Well, about one out of five Republicans opined that he might have a point or two, a moral victory. It must be comforting to the statist wing of the GOP that moral victories correspond to peeing in your blue serge suit. They can't end ethanol mandates. They can't phase out Uncle Sam bent over, grasping his ankles, inviting one and all, foreign and domestic, to work their will on our personal wallets.
Jan 3, 2012
FLASH ... Romney Captures SoL, Newt nabs second, Paul pales
Freedom did not shake her lovely tresses in my village of Smugleye-on-Lake. Our good Dr. Paul captured 11 votes of the 77 cast for 14.28 per cent.
The SoL tab:
Romney 22
Gingrich 20
Santorum 17
Paul 11
Perry 4
Bachmann 1
Further reports as they become available should your reporter remain awake. Being with that many people (about a thousand; it was a county-wide doin's) makes his butt tired, and the sensation often rapidly disseminates itself thoughout the other bodily parts.
The SoL tab:
Romney 22
Gingrich 20
Santorum 17
Paul 11
Perry 4
Bachmann 1
Further reports as they become available should your reporter remain awake. Being with that many people (about a thousand; it was a county-wide doin's) makes his butt tired, and the sensation often rapidly disseminates itself thoughout the other bodily parts.
Caucus morn on my electric teevee
They're all here. The cameras are on. I am siamesed to my new flat screen, listening to Them tell Me what I am like.
I am beginning to feel like one of Margaret Mead's Ta'u village girls.
.
I am beginning to feel like one of Margaret Mead's Ta'u village girls.
.
Jan 2, 2012
Armed Iowa, one year later
Happy Birthday. One year ago yesterday, "shall-issue" became Iowa law. You've read of the resultant carnage, so there's no need to repeat it here.
Our largest newspaper -- the anti-gun Des Moines Register* -- decided it needed a year-end retrospective and produced what was presumably the most horrifying summary it could print without generating a collective horse laugh from the Mississippi to the Missouri. It headlined the "Unbelievable" number of new ccw permits in 2011.
Turns out the unbelievability head is based on this quotation:
“ 'It’s unbelievable,' (Cerro Gordo Sheriff Kenneth Pals) said. 'It hasn’t slowed. The permits used to be one-year permits. Now they are good for five years'.”
But try as it might, the Register couldn't dredge up enough to cite even one case of a CCW holder misusing a weapon. (I found one early in the year. Some CCW guy got tight and waved his piece around in a bar. He's now, rightfully, a former CCW holder. That's all the mayhem I could find, so I suppose shall-issue hasn't stacked corpses in our schools, orphanages, and Burger Chef's.)
----
And then there's the nation's Capital where they store, but rarely read, the Constitution, where gore was to clog the sewers after the Heller decision a little more than two years ago. Err, the Washington murder rate is down.
If you decide to read that report you may savor the reasons given by Mayor Gray and Police Chief Lanier. They explain that homicides fell because of the excellent work of Mayor Gray and Police Chief Lanier. I'm sure that's true because there is no possibility that armed thugs might think twice about throwing down on a victim who might shoot back.
---
*I rag on the Register quite often, sometimes unairly so. I found its coverage of the shall-issue debate last year pretty objective, and I can find little to fault in its news coverage of the Ron Paul campaign
If you decide to read that report you may savor the reasons given by Mayor Gray and Police Chief Lanier. They explain that homicides fell because of the excellent work of Mayor Gray and Police Chief Lanier. I'm sure that's true because there is no possibility that armed thugs might think twice about throwing down on a victim who might shoot back.
---
*I rag on the Register quite often, sometimes unairly so. I found its coverage of the shall-issue debate last year pretty objective, and I can find little to fault in its news coverage of the Ron Paul campaign
Christmas in America
Borepatch ferreted out a social network thread from lads and lasses in the shadow of the family tree. A sample indicates the rollicking good spirits of our twittery youth.
Sean McWhosis announces to the world: "my parents are the worst Mother F-----g parents in the world for not getting me an iPhone f--- you Mom and Dad F--- YOU. FML."(elisions mine)
That's only slightly more vulgar and illiterate than the rest of the comments, and if you're interested in nurturing a foul pessimism about tomorrow's voters and breeders, I suggest you read it all.
---
Look you self-righteous little pukes, once upon a time, not all that long ago, plastered across America, even during the Christmas season, you saw things like this, and you didn't take it as a license to call your parents or your society motherf.....s.
Sean McWhosis announces to the world: "my parents are the worst Mother F-----g parents in the world for not getting me an iPhone f--- you Mom and Dad F--- YOU. FML."(elisions mine)
That's only slightly more vulgar and illiterate than the rest of the comments, and if you're interested in nurturing a foul pessimism about tomorrow's voters and breeders, I suggest you read it all.
---
Look you self-righteous little pukes, once upon a time, not all that long ago, plastered across America, even during the Christmas season, you saw things like this, and you didn't take it as a license to call your parents or your society motherf.....s.
Jan 1, 2012
Focus, group.
The TMR annual refresher. It is a reminder, mainly to its author, of why it exists:
Three kinds of people exist.
(1) Authoritarians -- stunted cretins who wish to use government to dictate the manner in which you live your life
(2) Libertarians -- the opposite, believers in personal sovereignty, men and women who assume ownership of and responsibility for their own lives.
(3) Inerts -- The rest. The wad which, in return for unearned potted chickens, puts authoritarians in power.
We're here to fight the authoritarians. Everything else -- however diverting or amusing it might sometimes be -- is just padding.
Dec 31, 2011
Iowa Poll Results
Our libertarian is No. 2, two points behind Mitt's hair. It's the famous statistical tie.
Santorum is 3rd at 15. Newt is No. 4 with 13.7. Another stat tie.
In Order:
Romney 24
Paul 22
Santorum 15
Gingrich 13.7
Perry 11
Bachmann 7
Hunstman NR
Santorum is 3rd at 15. Newt is No. 4 with 13.7. Another stat tie.
In Order:
Romney 24
Paul 22
Santorum 15
Gingrich 13.7
Perry 11
Bachmann 7
Hunstman NR
Bated Breath (2), Iowa Caucuses 2012
In an hour we'll get the important pollster's final guess on how well the libertarian idea is selling in Iowa. Ann Selzer runs the Iowa Poll, and her operation was the best predictor four years ago. It's paid for by the predictably statist Des Moines Register, but the little green editors there seem to leave Ann alone. They follow the Mark Twain dicta of journalism: "Get your facts first, then you can twist them as much as you want."
Ron Paul has been holding his own despite being outed as an insane anti-semitic racist who wants to spread the American legs wide for penetration by all those nasty foreigners -- Arabs, Commies, Zoroastrians and so forth. His plan to use the 82nd Airborne as school-crossing guards has hurt him especially badly. But he perseveres as No.1 or 2 -- more or less tied with Mitt Romney in the other polls.
Rick Santorum has emerged as the sort-of concensus candidate for those who think we'll get to heaven by peeping in one another's windows and reporting abominations to the proper authorities.
I'll pass on the poll results here, even though they'll be all over the media within minutes.
N.B. -- Even though Ann is considered damn good at her job, polling a universe as tiny and flighty as 90,000 - 120,000 expected caucusoids is a major challenge.
Forced to bet right now, my limited-confidence guess of the poll results is:
1. Romney
2. Paul (or in a statistical dead heat with Mitt)
3.Santorum
4. Gingrich
...followed by those who no longer matter.
Ron Paul has been holding his own despite being outed as an insane anti-semitic racist who wants to spread the American legs wide for penetration by all those nasty foreigners -- Arabs, Commies, Zoroastrians and so forth. His plan to use the 82nd Airborne as school-crossing guards has hurt him especially badly. But he perseveres as No.1 or 2 -- more or less tied with Mitt Romney in the other polls.
Rick Santorum has emerged as the sort-of concensus candidate for those who think we'll get to heaven by peeping in one another's windows and reporting abominations to the proper authorities.
I'll pass on the poll results here, even though they'll be all over the media within minutes.
N.B. -- Even though Ann is considered damn good at her job, polling a universe as tiny and flighty as 90,000 - 120,000 expected caucusoids is a major challenge.
Forced to bet right now, my limited-confidence guess of the poll results is:
1. Romney
2. Paul (or in a statistical dead heat with Mitt)
3.Santorum
4. Gingrich
...followed by those who no longer matter.
The Montezuma Two-Step
Our hunk of Interstate 80 has three great qualities.
First, it's a rapid way of getting out of Iowa, albeit by the least interesting route available. (Eastbound, it also ejects you into the maws of Illinois SSR commissars.)
Second, it is America's most incontinent-friendly route. In the 1950s and '60s, someone was having a sale on pissoirs and palaces to house them, and we planted them wholesale. At the posted speed limit you are never more than 27 minutes from relief. Back when our sappy official motto was "A Place to Grow ," a legislator grumpy about the cost of maintaining the "rest areas" said we should change it to "A Place to Go."
Third, it takes you within a few miles of Montezuma and (Mystery Revealed!)...
Where you may sit in a somewhat sterile front area, wander through the catalogs, and fill out your order.
And where you may peek through a window at, but not fondle, Brownell's goodies.
And after your order is quickly processed by an extremely pleasant and efficient Iowa lady, you get to put your new essentials into your Homey Roller, bow to the Temple of Shooty Mammon, and be on your way to less interesting places.
It isn't as much fun as rummaging through Herter's during it's year-long quitting -business sale, but it's warmer than mail order, and you are permitted to discuss things with actual humans who are blessed with good sense. For example, I wanted a pint of magic cold blue, but they were out of the pint-sizes and had only the little four-ounce bottles at a roughly 50 per cent higher unit cost. I wondered if Brownell's might agree to sell me four 4-oz bottles at the pint price. A quick phone call from the aforementioned nice lady to her boss yielded an instantaneous "yes," and she seemed as pleased as I was.
Good folks there in Montezuma. Stop by and say hi when you're in the area.
Oh. And, in case we Iowa taxpayers didn't afford you enough places to pee, be advised that Brownell's also offers gratis urinal access. Free Markets to the rescue again.
First, it's a rapid way of getting out of Iowa, albeit by the least interesting route available. (Eastbound, it also ejects you into the maws of Illinois SSR commissars.)
Second, it is America's most incontinent-friendly route. In the 1950s and '60s, someone was having a sale on pissoirs and palaces to house them, and we planted them wholesale. At the posted speed limit you are never more than 27 minutes from relief. Back when our sappy official motto was "A Place to Grow ," a legislator grumpy about the cost of maintaining the "rest areas" said we should change it to "A Place to Go."
Third, it takes you within a few miles of Montezuma and (Mystery Revealed!)...
Where you may sit in a somewhat sterile front area, wander through the catalogs, and fill out your order.
And where you may peek through a window at, but not fondle, Brownell's goodies.
And after your order is quickly processed by an extremely pleasant and efficient Iowa lady, you get to put your new essentials into your Homey Roller, bow to the Temple of Shooty Mammon, and be on your way to less interesting places.
It isn't as much fun as rummaging through Herter's during it's year-long quitting -business sale, but it's warmer than mail order, and you are permitted to discuss things with actual humans who are blessed with good sense. For example, I wanted a pint of magic cold blue, but they were out of the pint-sizes and had only the little four-ounce bottles at a roughly 50 per cent higher unit cost. I wondered if Brownell's might agree to sell me four 4-oz bottles at the pint price. A quick phone call from the aforementioned nice lady to her boss yielded an instantaneous "yes," and she seemed as pleased as I was.
Good folks there in Montezuma. Stop by and say hi when you're in the area.
Oh. And, in case we Iowa taxpayers didn't afford you enough places to pee, be advised that Brownell's also offers gratis urinal access. Free Markets to the rescue again.
Hustling Newt Gingrich
On second thought, I'm glad the Des Moines Register doesn't fritter away money on copy editing. Curmudgeons wielding pencils deprive the world of laughter.
---
Newt was hustling Iowans. A homeless woman decided to tell him her sad story and began:
“This is difficult so bare with me.”
At least she was speaking to the candidate most likely to respond, "Sure. Your place or mine?"
---
Newt was hustling Iowans. A homeless woman decided to tell him her sad story and began:
“This is difficult so bare with me.”
At least she was speaking to the candidate most likely to respond, "Sure. Your place or mine?"
Dec 29, 2011
Jiggity Jig
...356.8 miles, almost non-stop; just three pit stops, including a gasup.
... plus one other refreshing pause unrelated to bladders, human or canine. I leave it as a deep secret until the morrow. I now totter off to my pallet, hoping I hit it on the way down.
I will hint only that few places in the world approach this mystery site as a Mecca for those whose blood is fearfully diluted with Hoppe's No. 9.
... plus one other refreshing pause unrelated to bladders, human or canine. I leave it as a deep secret until the morrow. I now totter off to my pallet, hoping I hit it on the way down.
I will hint only that few places in the world approach this mystery site as a Mecca for those whose blood is fearfully diluted with Hoppe's No. 9.
Dec 26, 2011
Advice to young men
Written as I button up the place for a short holiday trip. The house sitter and her puppy ("Sic," of large German heritage, including a 1939-ish German personality) are on the way.
Assembling the pocket things I carry on the road, it occurred to me that I might pass on a serious word or two of counsel to young folks venturing out into the civilized world of 21st Century America.
1. Never flash money. A wad tempts the morons who still believe American Federal Reserve Cartoons are worth stealing. They tend to be armed, if only with shanks they learned about watching "Lockup." It's better to look not worth bothering about as you pay for your Coke in the convenience store. If you must carry large cash in a money clip, shield the 20s and 50s with a fews ones on the outside. (A side note on linguistics. This is the reverse of the "Kansas City Wad.")
2. A good place for your real wallet is locked away in your vehicle. When I'm in on the street in Injun Country like Washington, D.C. or Illinois, I like to carry a fancy one of imitation leather holding a couple of long-expired credit cards, six ones, two fives, and home-made IDs saying my name is Newton Perry Bachmann and listing an address at least 100 miles from Camp J.
3. Dress is a challenge. You want to look respectable enough to get decent treatment from the clerks and bureaucrats with whom you must deal but, again, too poor to look profitable to the lurking goblin in the parking lot. I tend to go with clean jeans past their prime, dirty tennies, and a completely noncommttal shirt. Mustard is a nice color for the latter. (Avoid new Air Jordans at any cost.)
All this -- plus trying to keep my head out of my butt -- helps my confidence that the .45 can stay comfortably hidden. Having one is a comfort. Using it exposes a guy to all sorts of inconvenience.
Happy trails.
Jim
Assembling the pocket things I carry on the road, it occurred to me that I might pass on a serious word or two of counsel to young folks venturing out into the civilized world of 21st Century America.
1. Never flash money. A wad tempts the morons who still believe American Federal Reserve Cartoons are worth stealing. They tend to be armed, if only with shanks they learned about watching "Lockup." It's better to look not worth bothering about as you pay for your Coke in the convenience store. If you must carry large cash in a money clip, shield the 20s and 50s with a fews ones on the outside. (A side note on linguistics. This is the reverse of the "Kansas City Wad.")
2. A good place for your real wallet is locked away in your vehicle. When I'm in on the street in Injun Country like Washington, D.C. or Illinois, I like to carry a fancy one of imitation leather holding a couple of long-expired credit cards, six ones, two fives, and home-made IDs saying my name is Newton Perry Bachmann and listing an address at least 100 miles from Camp J.
3. Dress is a challenge. You want to look respectable enough to get decent treatment from the clerks and bureaucrats with whom you must deal but, again, too poor to look profitable to the lurking goblin in the parking lot. I tend to go with clean jeans past their prime, dirty tennies, and a completely noncommttal shirt. Mustard is a nice color for the latter. (Avoid new Air Jordans at any cost.)
All this -- plus trying to keep my head out of my butt -- helps my confidence that the .45 can stay comfortably hidden. Having one is a comfort. Using it exposes a guy to all sorts of inconvenience.
Happy trails.
Jim
Dec 25, 2011
The Pleasures of the Season to You
I celebrate the day by wrapping gifts and finding the stocking stuffers.
The TMR blood family is scattered, and schedules make it somewhat unusual for us to get together on the actual, official Day. It's a blessing in a way. It gives me an extra day or two to compensate for my habits of procrastination.
For all of you -- gathered with family today or not -- I send wishes for serenity. May the little ones enjoy the magic, the big ones at least a simple day of peaceful respite.
Merry Christmas, Friends.
The TMR blood family is scattered, and schedules make it somewhat unusual for us to get together on the actual, official Day. It's a blessing in a way. It gives me an extra day or two to compensate for my habits of procrastination.
For all of you -- gathered with family today or not -- I send wishes for serenity. May the little ones enjoy the magic, the big ones at least a simple day of peaceful respite.
Merry Christmas, Friends.
Dec 24, 2011
Sons of Guns and the BATF
In re: Red Jacket Armory and Soap Opera; BATFEieio; Discovery Channel; Sons of Guns.
Retaining my general view that anything Holder's Batfee does will be an affront to civil liberties and logical throught processes, I can't whip up much excitement about this one.
For one thing it's a chore to figure out who did what to whom and who still owns what ever is left of the company. Don't tell me. Don't care.
For another, my tolerance for contrived drama has faded to zero since the days when I got puckerbutted about whether Trigger would untie Roy in time to escape the murderin' rustlers. And whether Tonto could really pull the Lone Ranger and Silver out of the quicksand under a hail of Comanche arrows.
'course, there was that great episode on mounting a couple of M242s and a grenade launcher on the sherf's river boat. That'll learn them catfish poachers and pot puffers a thing ot two.
Retaining my general view that anything Holder's Batfee does will be an affront to civil liberties and logical throught processes, I can't whip up much excitement about this one.
For one thing it's a chore to figure out who did what to whom and who still owns what ever is left of the company. Don't tell me. Don't care.
For another, my tolerance for contrived drama has faded to zero since the days when I got puckerbutted about whether Trigger would untie Roy in time to escape the murderin' rustlers. And whether Tonto could really pull the Lone Ranger and Silver out of the quicksand under a hail of Comanche arrows.
'course, there was that great episode on mounting a couple of M242s and a grenade launcher on the sherf's river boat. That'll learn them catfish poachers and pot puffers a thing ot two.
(Two) -- John D. MacDonald, Jesus,and the Iowa Caucuses 2012
Part One of this little essay was inspired by a serous squabble in the political-huckster subset of organized Iowa Christendom. It is a fuss about "pay-for-my-pulpit" questions.
Dissension rules the pews. Then high priests and ward heelers in the Temple of the Van Der Platas Peeps are torn among the GOP candidates. Who, among Bachmann, Gingrich, Perry, and Santorum, is sufficiently sanctified to qualify for a temp job administering the government of the United States?
The schism threatens the temporal ambitions of high deacons. If their sheep cannot be driven to unity, the movement's caucus endorsements become a swill too weak to propel the self-appointed deacons to the worldly status of a Pat Robertson, or Jerry Falwell, or Jimmy Swaggart before he was caught one-handed.
The ambitious Bob Van Der Plaats leads the umbrella political/evangelical organization, The Family Leader. He has three times run for governor and lost -- once on a platform including outlawing gay marriage by administrative decree. His single success came in an off-year of defeat three Iowa Supreme Court justices who were part of a unanimous decision that a state gay-marriage ban violated the state Constitution.
(His signature concern is a nation of well-policed orifices.)
Ousting the judges was enough to keep him on Page One and nourish his lust to be a presidential kingmaker. And to some day have a national teevee co-preacher built along the lines of Salome, or perhaps Tammy Faye? To have his very own Heritage USA, speaking of Mrs. Bakker?
---
2011 has not been good to Mr. Van Der Plaats. There are simply too many theocratic panderers on the caucus stage, each with unswayable ardents, making a Van Der Plaats blessing a case of "So what?" And that he can not abide, so he took action, and here's where things get murky.
He personally endorsed Santorum. He may or may not have put a price tag on his anointment. One million dollars is the usually reported number for the alleged heist attempt. Van Der Plaats says he didn't do it, but even if he did it was simply money necessary to "promote" his decision.
About the same time, he rang up the Bachmann campaign. Again, what he asked or offered is foggy. He did, or did not demand she withdraw in favor of Santorum. He denies it. Others claim otherwise.
He said. She said. All in the name of a holy outcome on the night of January 3.
---
Political sausage is ugly enough in its secular form, and it is not improved by random ingredients from every denominational hustler who claims to be first on God's speed-dial list.
If we continue to confuse a government with a religion we can confidently predict a future federal law specifying the number of virgins we must sacrifice to make it rain.
Dissension rules the pews. Then high priests and ward heelers in the Temple of the Van Der Platas Peeps are torn among the GOP candidates. Who, among Bachmann, Gingrich, Perry, and Santorum, is sufficiently sanctified to qualify for a temp job administering the government of the United States?
The schism threatens the temporal ambitions of high deacons. If their sheep cannot be driven to unity, the movement's caucus endorsements become a swill too weak to propel the self-appointed deacons to the worldly status of a Pat Robertson, or Jerry Falwell, or Jimmy Swaggart before he was caught one-handed.
The ambitious Bob Van Der Plaats leads the umbrella political/evangelical organization, The Family Leader. He has three times run for governor and lost -- once on a platform including outlawing gay marriage by administrative decree. His single success came in an off-year of defeat three Iowa Supreme Court justices who were part of a unanimous decision that a state gay-marriage ban violated the state Constitution.
(His signature concern is a nation of well-policed orifices.)
Ousting the judges was enough to keep him on Page One and nourish his lust to be a presidential kingmaker. And to some day have a national teevee co-preacher built along the lines of Salome, or perhaps Tammy Faye? To have his very own Heritage USA, speaking of Mrs. Bakker?
---
2011 has not been good to Mr. Van Der Plaats. There are simply too many theocratic panderers on the caucus stage, each with unswayable ardents, making a Van Der Plaats blessing a case of "So what?" And that he can not abide, so he took action, and here's where things get murky.
He personally endorsed Santorum. He may or may not have put a price tag on his anointment. One million dollars is the usually reported number for the alleged heist attempt. Van Der Plaats says he didn't do it, but even if he did it was simply money necessary to "promote" his decision.
About the same time, he rang up the Bachmann campaign. Again, what he asked or offered is foggy. He did, or did not demand she withdraw in favor of Santorum. He denies it. Others claim otherwise.
He said. She said. All in the name of a holy outcome on the night of January 3.
---
Political sausage is ugly enough in its secular form, and it is not improved by random ingredients from every denominational hustler who claims to be first on God's speed-dial list.
If we continue to confuse a government with a religion we can confidently predict a future federal law specifying the number of virgins we must sacrifice to make it rain.
Dec 23, 2011
To arms! Man the barricades! Save the '03 Springfields!
For decades the Fort Snelling Memorial Rifle Squad has been honoring deceased veterans with the hallowed three-volley rifle salute. As a matter of tradition and preference it has used the United States Rifle, Caliber .30-06, Model 1903.
Now some tax-sucking Sad Sack furshlugginer chair-warming feather merchant gold brick of an REMF wants to take the '03 Springfields back and give the boys them new-fangled M1 Garands.
Give up that soothing "snickity-snack-smack" of a well-lubed and competently handled '03 action? Suffer the excruciating pain of the M1 thumb? All because some moldy asshole found an old rule in a stupid book in perfidious Washington?
"No!" says the hand-picked,all-volunteer squad, and "No!" say we.
Resist! Support the Boys of Pointe du Snell, even if it takes an act of of Congress, which it might.
---
h/t : PM from author of The World's Greatest Travel Blog
Now some tax-sucking Sad Sack furshlugginer chair-warming feather merchant gold brick of an REMF wants to take the '03 Springfields back and give the boys them new-fangled M1 Garands.
Give up that soothing "snickity-snack-smack" of a well-lubed and competently handled '03 action? Suffer the excruciating pain of the M1 thumb? All because some moldy asshole found an old rule in a stupid book in perfidious Washington?
"No!" says the hand-picked,all-volunteer squad, and "No!" say we.
Resist! Support the Boys of Pointe du Snell, even if it takes an act of of Congress, which it might.
---
h/t : PM from author of The World's Greatest Travel Blog
Short take on my corner of blogville
Re: Comment 3 in the second TMR post down.
A pun acknowledgement from Tam is as satisfying to a small, hobby blogger as a Nobel Peace Prize must have been to small, hobby president.
.
A pun acknowledgement from Tam is as satisfying to a small, hobby blogger as a Nobel Peace Prize must have been to small, hobby president.
.
John D. MacDonald, Jesus, and the Iowa Caucuses 2012
In the 1980s our creator of Travis McGee was getting old, confronting the fact he was nearing his own deep blue good-bye. He turned his attention to the Eternal and wrote "One More Sunday." It is a tale of two preachers
One leads a giant organization of teevee priest craft. He is the exploiter of advanced technology to generate millions from the book-free living rooms of the sick, the lonely, the hopeless. My God how the money rolls in. And those naive virginal girls all in white, Oh My.
The other is a a bona fide backwoods fundamentalist, and MacDonald makes him a hero. Primitive though his theology may be by allegedly sophisticated standards, he rejects the offer of fame, big money, and all the alluring young ladies of the choir. He prefers to continue his personal quest, exploring with his small flock a way of finding meaning in a brief human life, a single strobe flash between the eternal Before and the everlasting After.
---
It's a rather long book and, I believe, not one of MacDonald's best. But if John's narrative powers were beginning to fade, his unmatched reporting skill was intact. "One More Sunday" justifies your reading time with a wholly believable set of observations on the difference between God as the temple money changer, leading in all the polls, always heading the Top 40 Chart...
...and God as the ultimate mystery; God as sublime mathematics, or as the purest poetry, or as a Creator anxious for us to understand His nature and desires. Or Hers. John also leaves the reader perfectly free to reflect on a God identical to the image presented by Jews, later joined by Christians, over the past few thousand years of human history as recorded in the the Middle-East and the "West."
I doubt he would have endorsed The Almighty as fund-raising tool for defeated Iowa politicians. Further, my personal conceit this morning is that John may have given me a pleasant nod for calling "One More Sunday" a useful tool for understanding the snake ball of American -- and especially Iowa -- presidential politics.
(TBC)
One leads a giant organization of teevee priest craft. He is the exploiter of advanced technology to generate millions from the book-free living rooms of the sick, the lonely, the hopeless. My God how the money rolls in. And those naive virginal girls all in white, Oh My.
The other is a a bona fide backwoods fundamentalist, and MacDonald makes him a hero. Primitive though his theology may be by allegedly sophisticated standards, he rejects the offer of fame, big money, and all the alluring young ladies of the choir. He prefers to continue his personal quest, exploring with his small flock a way of finding meaning in a brief human life, a single strobe flash between the eternal Before and the everlasting After.
---
It's a rather long book and, I believe, not one of MacDonald's best. But if John's narrative powers were beginning to fade, his unmatched reporting skill was intact. "One More Sunday" justifies your reading time with a wholly believable set of observations on the difference between God as the temple money changer, leading in all the polls, always heading the Top 40 Chart...
...and God as the ultimate mystery; God as sublime mathematics, or as the purest poetry, or as a Creator anxious for us to understand His nature and desires. Or Hers. John also leaves the reader perfectly free to reflect on a God identical to the image presented by Jews, later joined by Christians, over the past few thousand years of human history as recorded in the the Middle-East and the "West."
I doubt he would have endorsed The Almighty as fund-raising tool for defeated Iowa politicians. Further, my personal conceit this morning is that John may have given me a pleasant nod for calling "One More Sunday" a useful tool for understanding the snake ball of American -- and especially Iowa -- presidential politics.
(TBC)
Dec 22, 2011
The joys of the season to you, Padraig
Are you naked? Have you painted yourself blue? Have you taken a wee nip to fortify yourself for a sunrise jig around the oak tree?
Me neither, and I suppose the Druidic recording angel has jotted down my apostasy.
---
(P.J. O'Rourke went to Ireland, thought about hitting the beaches, then decided, Naaaah, " No one wants to see an Irish girl in a bikini." P.J. is rarely full of it, but on this point he proves he never spent a couple of warm spring evenings in Galway City as the university colleens paraded.)
---
A light dusting of snow comes with the solstice here. It will be gone shortly. I again thank Al Gore for the localized global warming. By our usual northern-plains standards the winter has been tropical. It's pleasant, and I encourage one and all to continue venting fluorocarbons into the atmosphere.
---
By the way, this solstice also begins 365-day countdown to the end of the world according to the astronomical predictions of High Priest Kwaxaholemowthful. It mayant happen, but you still should double-check your bugout bag.
---
By the way, this solstice also begins 365-day countdown to the end of the world according to the astronomical predictions of High Priest Kwaxaholemowthful. It mayant happen, but you still should double-check your bugout bag.
Dec 21, 2011
Gary Johnson, a good man done gone
Johnson has made it official. He's going to join the Libertarian Party candidate zoo -- Bob Barr, guys like that. I wish you well, Gary, but it's a political mistake.
You 're a good man and young. You have time to submerge your ego just a bit, align yourself with the liberty wing of the GOP, and shoot for 2016. Quite a lot of us were hoping you would do just that.
I don't know what your political Plan B is, but I hope it's a good one. I'd really hate to see you making your living on satellite radio, feeding straight lines to Howard Stern.
You 're a good man and young. You have time to submerge your ego just a bit, align yourself with the liberty wing of the GOP, and shoot for 2016. Quite a lot of us were hoping you would do just that.
I don't know what your political Plan B is, but I hope it's a good one. I'd really hate to see you making your living on satellite radio, feeding straight lines to Howard Stern.
More free money: Our morning giggle
The Federal Housing Administration to the rescue.
The victim is a fellow who signed up for a mortgage he couldn't afford, especially after his $400,000 house became a $200,000 house, the transmission fell out of his nothing-down Escalade, and his local taxing authorities decided hiking his property taxes was a sterling idea.
So he declares bankruptcy after the bank starts foreclosing on his house. Enter the forces of virtue, led at this point in history by one Barack Obama and Benjamin Bernanke, screaming the battle cry of the early 21st Century: "Buck up Boy; we gawn hep y'all."
The FHA is directing this foray. Get a foreclosure notice on your underwater house, declare Chapter 13 bankruptcy, and Uncle Washington will see that you get to keep living in your McMansion essentially free.
"The plan under review by the Federal Housing Finance Agency would call for the mortgage financing companies to allow bankrupt homeowners who owe more on their housing debt than their homes are worth to pay zero per cent interest for five years..."
Zero per cent is a handsome deal for these folks in the early years of 30- or 40-year mortgage when the interest eats up about 99 per cent of the monthly payment. You get to keep enjoying your travertine and water view for -- what? -- fifty bucks a month or so, whatever the payment allocation to principle happens to be. Plus property tax, of course.
This is utopia and we should all be for it. Only soreheads would remark that banks, being what they are, would demand someone replace five years of lost interest and that politicians would shout, "Yes. Too Big to Fail." So the discount window at the Fed would open wider, shoveling money (so to speak) to them and to Freddy and Fannie.
But, errrr, the Fed doesn't have any money, Mr. Sorehead observes. What a fool he is. Who in his right mind would Wiki-Wander through entries such as "fractional reserve banking" and "high-speed printing presses" and "Wiemar," and so forth. Only subversive bastards, that's who.
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A qualification: This may be very slightly too harsh on Mr. Foreclosed Consumer. After all, he just did what his government and the great financiers told him he should, going back at least as far as the time of Monica Lewinsky and the Community Development Reinvestment Act. And continuing right down to the present day of His Ineptness the President, John Corzine, and sidekick Ben.
Mr. Consumer had, just as you and I do, a complete, sincere, and child-like trust in the wisdom of his betters.
The victim is a fellow who signed up for a mortgage he couldn't afford, especially after his $400,000 house became a $200,000 house, the transmission fell out of his nothing-down Escalade, and his local taxing authorities decided hiking his property taxes was a sterling idea.
So he declares bankruptcy after the bank starts foreclosing on his house. Enter the forces of virtue, led at this point in history by one Barack Obama and Benjamin Bernanke, screaming the battle cry of the early 21st Century: "Buck up Boy; we gawn hep y'all."
The FHA is directing this foray. Get a foreclosure notice on your underwater house, declare Chapter 13 bankruptcy, and Uncle Washington will see that you get to keep living in your McMansion essentially free.
"The plan under review by the Federal Housing Finance Agency would call for the mortgage financing companies to allow bankrupt homeowners who owe more on their housing debt than their homes are worth to pay zero per cent interest for five years..."
Zero per cent is a handsome deal for these folks in the early years of 30- or 40-year mortgage when the interest eats up about 99 per cent of the monthly payment. You get to keep enjoying your travertine and water view for -- what? -- fifty bucks a month or so, whatever the payment allocation to principle happens to be. Plus property tax, of course.
This is utopia and we should all be for it. Only soreheads would remark that banks, being what they are, would demand someone replace five years of lost interest and that politicians would shout, "Yes. Too Big to Fail." So the discount window at the Fed would open wider, shoveling money (so to speak) to them and to Freddy and Fannie.
But, errrr, the Fed doesn't have any money, Mr. Sorehead observes. What a fool he is. Who in his right mind would Wiki-Wander through entries such as "fractional reserve banking" and "high-speed printing presses" and "Wiemar," and so forth. Only subversive bastards, that's who.
---
A qualification: This may be very slightly too harsh on Mr. Foreclosed Consumer. After all, he just did what his government and the great financiers told him he should, going back at least as far as the time of Monica Lewinsky and the Community Development Reinvestment Act. And continuing right down to the present day of His Ineptness the President, John Corzine, and sidekick Ben.
Mr. Consumer had, just as you and I do, a complete, sincere, and child-like trust in the wisdom of his betters.
Dec 20, 2011
The joy of bachelorhood
Wardrobe malfunctions plague me lately, so I got out my dainty sewing basket and went to work. All is well. I sewed the buttons on conventionally, but stitching the long tear in my favorite work shirt seamed* too tedious. The alternative solution is working fine so far. If it stands up to a few wash cycles I will enthusiastically endorse Gorilla tape for purposes of fashion.
-0-
*Hush up. It' a gift.
Let's be careful out there; an informant has reported the Hubris Gang is on the streets
Another morning note to my buddy, dealing with a more practical aspect of the final two weeks in the corn fields and hog lots:
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Hi Dick,
At this moment Paul may be the clear favorite here. This exposes him to dat ol'debbil game of expectations.
1. In the two weeks remaining he will suffer unremitting negative attacks. They will center on general goofiness and advanced age with a strong undertone of alleged racism and anti-semitism.
2. These will have some effect, perhaps enough to deny him victory or even a strong second-place finish.
3. If that happens he will enter New Hampshire weaker, and his small but increasing support in South Carolina and Florida will deteriorate. Super Tuesday will be a Newt Romney walkaway.
The other danger here is really energized preachers pounding their KJVs. There's still time for them to coalesce around one of their own. Bachmann, in particular, is running a near-perfect end-game race.
Jim
The Great Debate -- Iowa Caucuses 20112
My pal Dick is my old high school debate partner, and I immodestly report we tucked a bronze or two in the trophy case. This post is a little obscure for anyone not familiar with formal debate, but, what the Hell. Some readers are. Others are free to move on until I get back to my favorite hobby, posting retro cheesecake and gun porn. :)
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Dick emailed me a positive Christian Science Monitor piece on Ron Paul. The reply:
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Scene: The National Forensic League national final in traditional debate. PBS teevee cameras are rolling:
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Dick emailed me a positive Christian Science Monitor piece on Ron Paul. The reply:
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Scene: The National Forensic League national final in traditional debate. PBS teevee cameras are rolling:
Paul is the first-negative speaker who spends his first three minutes admitting "need" but criticizing the affirmative's analysis of the nature of the need. In his seven remaining minutes he presents an alternative solution, a counter-plan. Even if somewhat faulty, it boasts internal consistency, unheard of in either academic or political disputation.
:)
Discombobulated, the second affirmative stumbles through disjointed short takes about the unfairness of trick cases. Second negative reestablishes the logic and real-world pertinence of its program. First affirmative has had time to recover a semblance of coherence as that term is understood by, say, Kingman Brewster and Teddy Kennedy.
This is enough for the judges who, by training and experience, have never in their lives faced a problem to which the solution was not government-inspired. The remaining rebuttals are largely ignored. Decision for the affirmative.
But the nature of debate is forever changed.
Fair warning. Intense political content to follow.
The two upcoming posts are purely political, my end of a small dialog with a university professor. (As Mayor Daly the would have characterized it, "We've been boyhood friends all our lives.") So if you're not much interested in poltics, I recommend skipping them.
Me? I try to remember that politics is how we decide, for instance, if I may keep alittle of what I earn. Or own a LeMat without a permission slip from Eric Holder. I think that makes it kind of important.
Me? I try to remember that politics is how we decide, for instance, if I may keep alittle of what I earn. Or own a LeMat without a permission slip from Eric Holder. I think that makes it kind of important.
Dec 19, 2011
Moronic but sexy
Too much politics around here lately, so I rooted around for a warmup in the internet collection of thinking man's cheesecake. And, lo and behold, found one with both skin and a glimpse of our cultural heritage.
Note the tag line. It's safe to assume Chill Wills and Gabby Hayes were in the Luxless 10 per cent.
Callista of Tiffany's
Now, before getting huffy and yelling at me for being sexist and shallow, please try to remember that I didn't stick Callista Gingrich into a tucker bag of campaign tools. Newt did. So did she.
Says Politico: "A Gingrich campaign source describes Callista as the campaign’s '...chief morale officer'.”
I'm not part of the Gingrich campaign. If I were I would need a morale booster. Callista would be as good a candidate as any, even better after scraping off about a cup of the makeup and using however much naptha it takes to thin out the Max-Hold.
Says Politico: "A Gingrich campaign source describes Callista as the campaign’s '...chief morale officer'.”
I'm not part of the Gingrich campaign. If I were I would need a morale booster. Callista would be as good a candidate as any, even better after scraping off about a cup of the makeup and using however much naptha it takes to thin out the Max-Hold.
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