Sunday, March 31, 2013
Friday, March 29, 2013
Couple of Random Thoughts
Started watching the Firefly series that all the cool bloggers have been raving about for the last few years. I recently signed up for Amazon Prime, and with that program comes opportunity to stream videos free, and Firefly is one of those. Recently watched Captain America: The First Avenger free, also. Amazon Prime is a good program if you shop at Amazon often, as I do.
Something else I've noticed is that much of the reason that blogging isn't as popular as 5 years ago is that people seem to have migrated to Facebook, and in effect all share the same blog there. It's easier to pop interesting news stories onto Facebook than it is to spend all that time coding it into a blog entry. Readers might consider giving it a try.
Something else I've noticed is that much of the reason that blogging isn't as popular as 5 years ago is that people seem to have migrated to Facebook, and in effect all share the same blog there. It's easier to pop interesting news stories onto Facebook than it is to spend all that time coding it into a blog entry. Readers might consider giving it a try.
Thursday, March 28, 2013
New Testing On Shroud of Turin Confirm From Period of Jesus' Life
Story.
New scientific experiments carried out at the University of Padua have apparently confirmed that the Shroud Turin can be dated back to the 1st century AD. This makes its compatible with the tradition which claims that the cloth with the image of the crucified man imprinted on it is the very one Jesus’ body was wrapped in when he was taken off the cross. The news will be published in a book by Giulio Fanti, professor of mechanical and thermal measurement at the University of Padua’s Engineering Faculty, and journalist Saverio Gaeta, out tomorrow. “Il Mistero della Sindone” (The Mystery of the Shroud) is edited by Rizzoli (240 pp, 18 Euro).
What’s new about this book are Fanti’s recent findings, which are also about to be published in a specialist magazine and assessed by a scientific committee. The research includes three new tests, two chemical ones and one mechanical one. The first two were carried out with an FT-IR system, so using infra-red light, and the other using Raman spectroscopy. The third was a multi-parametric mechanical test based on five different mechanical parameters linked to the voltage of the wire. The machine used to examine the Shroud’s fibres and test traction, allowed researchers to examine tiny fibres alongside about twenty samples of cloth dated between 3000 BC and 2000 AD.
The new tests carried out in the University of Padua labs were carried out by a number of university professors from various Italian universities and agree that the Shroud dates back to the period when Jesus Christ was crucified in Jerusalem. Final results show that the Shroud fibres examined produced the following dates, all of which are 95% certain and centuries away from the medieval dating obtained with Carbon-14 testing in 1988: the dates given to the Shroud after FT-IR testing, is 300 BC ±400, 200 BC ±500 after Raman testing and 400 AD ±400 after multi-parametric mechanical testing. The average of all three dates is 33 BC ±250 years. The book’s authors observed that the uncertainty of this date is less than the single uncertainties and the date is compatible with the historic date of Jesus’ death on the cross, which historians claim occurred in 30 AD.
Click the link to read the rest. None of this "proves" that the Shroud is the burial cloth of Jesus of Nazareth; all that it "proves" is that the cloth came from the period during which Jesus was active. Believers will believe, skeptics will not.
New scientific experiments carried out at the University of Padua have apparently confirmed that the Shroud Turin can be dated back to the 1st century AD. This makes its compatible with the tradition which claims that the cloth with the image of the crucified man imprinted on it is the very one Jesus’ body was wrapped in when he was taken off the cross. The news will be published in a book by Giulio Fanti, professor of mechanical and thermal measurement at the University of Padua’s Engineering Faculty, and journalist Saverio Gaeta, out tomorrow. “Il Mistero della Sindone” (The Mystery of the Shroud) is edited by Rizzoli (240 pp, 18 Euro).
What’s new about this book are Fanti’s recent findings, which are also about to be published in a specialist magazine and assessed by a scientific committee. The research includes three new tests, two chemical ones and one mechanical one. The first two were carried out with an FT-IR system, so using infra-red light, and the other using Raman spectroscopy. The third was a multi-parametric mechanical test based on five different mechanical parameters linked to the voltage of the wire. The machine used to examine the Shroud’s fibres and test traction, allowed researchers to examine tiny fibres alongside about twenty samples of cloth dated between 3000 BC and 2000 AD.
The new tests carried out in the University of Padua labs were carried out by a number of university professors from various Italian universities and agree that the Shroud dates back to the period when Jesus Christ was crucified in Jerusalem. Final results show that the Shroud fibres examined produced the following dates, all of which are 95% certain and centuries away from the medieval dating obtained with Carbon-14 testing in 1988: the dates given to the Shroud after FT-IR testing, is 300 BC ±400, 200 BC ±500 after Raman testing and 400 AD ±400 after multi-parametric mechanical testing. The average of all three dates is 33 BC ±250 years. The book’s authors observed that the uncertainty of this date is less than the single uncertainties and the date is compatible with the historic date of Jesus’ death on the cross, which historians claim occurred in 30 AD.
Click the link to read the rest. None of this "proves" that the Shroud is the burial cloth of Jesus of Nazareth; all that it "proves" is that the cloth came from the period during which Jesus was active. Believers will believe, skeptics will not.
"Only the People Can Restore Order"
The armed "vigilante" movement in southern and western Mexico.
Thousands of armed vigilantes have taken over a town in Mexico and arrested police officers after their 'commander' was killed and dumped in the street.
The self described 'community police' and arrested 12 officers and the town's former director of public security, who they accuse of taking part in the killing of Guadalupe Quinones Carbajal, 28, on behalf of a local organised crime group. The 1,500-strong force has also set up improvised checkpoints on the major road running through Tierra Colorado, which connects the capital Mexico City to Acapulco, a coastal city popular with tourists less than 40 miles away.
The takeover comes amid a growing movement of 'self defence' groups in the region, which claim to be fighting against drug cartels.
The Tierra Colorado vigilantes have also been searching people's homes and are reported to have seized drugs from some properties.
The arrested former security official and police officers have been handed over to state prosecutors, who agreed to investigate their alleged links to organised crime.
The group's 'commander' Carbajal's body had been found dumped in the street in a nearby town on Monday.
The force's spokesman, Bruno Placido Valerio, said: 'We have besieged the municipality, because here criminals operate with impunity in broad daylight, in view of municipal authorities.
'We have detained the director of public security because he is involved with criminals and he knows who killed our commander.'
One of those arrested by the group was Juan R. Escudero,police chief of the municipality. The vigilantes are part of regional umbrella group Union of Peoples and Organizations of Guerrero State. The Union is made up of residents in Tierra Colorado, as well as neighbouring towns such as Ayutla de los Libres, Teconoapa and San Marcos.
In January, hundreds of armed vigilantes made a series of arrests and imposed curfews in Ayutla de los Libres and Teconoap.
They also manned checkpoints and claimed they had arrested at least 30 suspected criminals. One of the masked vigilantes said: 'They kill, extort, rape. You do [sic] know if they are drugs dealers, thugs, who want to grab everything.
'We want to return peace and tranquility to the entire population. Only the people can restore order.'
If a government fails in its primary duty to protect its citizens, vigilante movements will always spring up. The wise government will seize the opportunity to purge its ranks of the corrupt and the inept and re-assume its duty, at which point the vigilantes usually disband. The unwise government will try and suppress the vigilantes rather than work with them.
Thousands of armed vigilantes have taken over a town in Mexico and arrested police officers after their 'commander' was killed and dumped in the street.
The self described 'community police' and arrested 12 officers and the town's former director of public security, who they accuse of taking part in the killing of Guadalupe Quinones Carbajal, 28, on behalf of a local organised crime group. The 1,500-strong force has also set up improvised checkpoints on the major road running through Tierra Colorado, which connects the capital Mexico City to Acapulco, a coastal city popular with tourists less than 40 miles away.
The takeover comes amid a growing movement of 'self defence' groups in the region, which claim to be fighting against drug cartels.
The Tierra Colorado vigilantes have also been searching people's homes and are reported to have seized drugs from some properties.
The arrested former security official and police officers have been handed over to state prosecutors, who agreed to investigate their alleged links to organised crime.
The group's 'commander' Carbajal's body had been found dumped in the street in a nearby town on Monday.
The force's spokesman, Bruno Placido Valerio, said: 'We have besieged the municipality, because here criminals operate with impunity in broad daylight, in view of municipal authorities.
'We have detained the director of public security because he is involved with criminals and he knows who killed our commander.'
One of those arrested by the group was Juan R. Escudero,police chief of the municipality. The vigilantes are part of regional umbrella group Union of Peoples and Organizations of Guerrero State. The Union is made up of residents in Tierra Colorado, as well as neighbouring towns such as Ayutla de los Libres, Teconoapa and San Marcos.
In January, hundreds of armed vigilantes made a series of arrests and imposed curfews in Ayutla de los Libres and Teconoap.
They also manned checkpoints and claimed they had arrested at least 30 suspected criminals. One of the masked vigilantes said: 'They kill, extort, rape. You do [sic] know if they are drugs dealers, thugs, who want to grab everything.
'We want to return peace and tranquility to the entire population. Only the people can restore order.'
If a government fails in its primary duty to protect its citizens, vigilante movements will always spring up. The wise government will seize the opportunity to purge its ranks of the corrupt and the inept and re-assume its duty, at which point the vigilantes usually disband. The unwise government will try and suppress the vigilantes rather than work with them.
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
Shipwreck Beer
Made from recipes found in a 200-year-old shipwreck in Finland:
A Finnish microbrewery will replicate beer discovered in a nearly 200-year-old shipwreck at the bottom of the Baltic Sea in 2010, it said Thursday.
Divers discovered the beer in July 2010, as they salvaged champagne bottles from the wreck, which makes both the champagne and the beer the world's oldest.
The bottles of beer and champagne were still drinkable, preserved by the slightly salty water, low currents, a constant temperature of 41 degrees Fahrenheit, pressure from the sea and the total deep sea darkness.
The champagne -- some 168 bottles from Veuve Clicquot, Heidsieck and now-defunct Maison Juglar -- has since been sold at auctions.
Samples of the beer were analyzed by the Finnish laboratory VTT, which determined its composition.
"It's a pale ale and resembles contemporary beer," VTT researcher Annika Wilhelmson said.
A Finnish microbrewery will replicate beer discovered in a nearly 200-year-old shipwreck at the bottom of the Baltic Sea in 2010, it said Thursday.
Divers discovered the beer in July 2010, as they salvaged champagne bottles from the wreck, which makes both the champagne and the beer the world's oldest.
The bottles of beer and champagne were still drinkable, preserved by the slightly salty water, low currents, a constant temperature of 41 degrees Fahrenheit, pressure from the sea and the total deep sea darkness.
The champagne -- some 168 bottles from Veuve Clicquot, Heidsieck and now-defunct Maison Juglar -- has since been sold at auctions.
Samples of the beer were analyzed by the Finnish laboratory VTT, which determined its composition.
"It's a pale ale and resembles contemporary beer," VTT researcher Annika Wilhelmson said.
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
Who's Being Recruited? Who's the Enemy?
I speak, of course, of the Department of Homeland Security. Where are they getting their personnel, this quasi-military organization? Veterans? What sort of brainwashing indoctrination training are they receiving about who their potential enemy/threat is?
Just curious.
Just curious.
Monday, March 25, 2013
The View...
...from atop the Great Pyramid of Giza.
Mark Twain famously climbed the Pyramid, and described it in his travel book The Innocents Abroad. Who knows, maybe his initials are carved into one of the stones up there.
Mark Twain famously climbed the Pyramid, and described it in his travel book The Innocents Abroad. Who knows, maybe his initials are carved into one of the stones up there.
They All Want To Be Called "Hero."
But they won't - - or can't - - join and fight.
The "explosion" of Stolen Valor cases:
Since launching that veteran-vetting venture on a shoe-string budget in 1998, Schantag said her nonprofit group — along with partners at similar sites — has revealed more than 4,000 hoaxers who falsely claimed military service or battlefield glory. It’s unclear how many of those 4,000 frauds later were prosecuted. A VA spokesman said such cases are not tracked by the agency.
The "explosion" of Stolen Valor cases:
Since launching that veteran-vetting venture on a shoe-string budget in 1998, Schantag said her nonprofit group — along with partners at similar sites — has revealed more than 4,000 hoaxers who falsely claimed military service or battlefield glory. It’s unclear how many of those 4,000 frauds later were prosecuted. A VA spokesman said such cases are not tracked by the agency.
Sunday, March 24, 2013
Computer Assistance
The keyboard on my Dell laptop just stopped working; does anyone have any quick fix troubleshooting tips that might help? It will save me a trip to a repair shop. Thanks!
Meanwhile, Down In Clermont, Florida...
...the girl Sheriff's Deputies rassle alligators:
In the raw video below, a sheriff’s deputy successfully wrestles a seven-foot alligator on the campus of a Florida middle school as students were leaving for the day.
Lake County Sheriff’s Deputy Jessica McGregor was the gator grappler, reports Central Florida News 13. The incident occurred on Tuesday at Clermont Middle School in Clermont, Florida — not too far from Orlando.
With so many students around, McGregor didn’t want to wait for an alligator trapper to arrive.
“Got him to work around a little bit, wore him out, get him tired, so he wasn’t so much to handle,” McGregor told News 13. “And then once he was good and tired, I walked up behind him and dropped down on his back, pushed his head down, so I could get his mouth taped up. So he couldn’t bite.”
Meanwhile the male deputy just stands there scratching his ass?
(Sorry for not embedding the video, it's one of those autoplay types).
In the raw video below, a sheriff’s deputy successfully wrestles a seven-foot alligator on the campus of a Florida middle school as students were leaving for the day.
Lake County Sheriff’s Deputy Jessica McGregor was the gator grappler, reports Central Florida News 13. The incident occurred on Tuesday at Clermont Middle School in Clermont, Florida — not too far from Orlando.
With so many students around, McGregor didn’t want to wait for an alligator trapper to arrive.
“Got him to work around a little bit, wore him out, get him tired, so he wasn’t so much to handle,” McGregor told News 13. “And then once he was good and tired, I walked up behind him and dropped down on his back, pushed his head down, so I could get his mouth taped up. So he couldn’t bite.”
Meanwhile the male deputy just stands there scratching his ass?
(Sorry for not embedding the video, it's one of those autoplay types).
Saturday, March 23, 2013
Meanwhile, In Hawthorne, Florida...
...Korean War veteran and Medal of Honor winner Duane Dewey is still around 60 years after diving onto a grenade to save comrades.
On April 16, 1952, during the Korean War, Dewey was lying on the ground just south of the village of Panmunjom, situated in the middle of the Korean peninsula, when a grenade landed right next to him. Not seeing any way to get the grenade away from the other Marines around him, he tucked it under himself to shield them from the blast.
"Hit the dirt, doc!" he told the medic attending to his wound, caused by another grenade that had gone off near his feet just before the next, almost fatal grenade had found its way to him.
The second grenade exploded right under him, wounding him so badly that he didn't even notice he had been shot in the stomach until he got to a field hospital.
President Eisenhower gave Dewey the Medal of Honor for his actions on March 12, 1953, the first time Eisenhower had ever awarded the medal. Dewey is one of only 80 living Medal of Honor recipients, and he's one of 11 living recipients who earned it during the Korean War.
On April 16, 1952, during the Korean War, Dewey was lying on the ground just south of the village of Panmunjom, situated in the middle of the Korean peninsula, when a grenade landed right next to him. Not seeing any way to get the grenade away from the other Marines around him, he tucked it under himself to shield them from the blast.
"Hit the dirt, doc!" he told the medic attending to his wound, caused by another grenade that had gone off near his feet just before the next, almost fatal grenade had found its way to him.
The second grenade exploded right under him, wounding him so badly that he didn't even notice he had been shot in the stomach until he got to a field hospital.
President Eisenhower gave Dewey the Medal of Honor for his actions on March 12, 1953, the first time Eisenhower had ever awarded the medal. Dewey is one of only 80 living Medal of Honor recipients, and he's one of 11 living recipients who earned it during the Korean War.
Lost Lamb
It was the evening of the fourth of May, and the old shepherd Andrej was looking forward to an evening at the village inn. It was still cold here in the Carpathians, and a warm hearthfire, a jug of wine and a dish of bryndzové halušky, made from the milk of Andrej's own ewes (Andrej bartered milk, wool and rarely mutton with various innkeepers and merchants throughout the area) would be welcome. Andrej's rheumatism was flaring up, and he welcomed the opportunity to sleep in a bed instead of the ground under the stars.
Especially tonight, the fourth of May.
As Andrej herded his sheep into one of the pens near the edge of the village, he counted them, using his rosary beads to keep track of how many had entered. Since it was spring there were numerous lambs to keep track of. He finished his tally, frowning to himself. Eighty-four, he thought to himself. There should be eighty-five. He started his count again. He knew exactly how many rams, ewes and lambs he owned. At the end of the recount, he still came up one short. A lamb had gone missing.
He pondered, thinking of the road he had taken to the village. Several miles back the road skirted a forest, and some of the sheep had been out of his sight around a curve for part of the journey past it. He would have to go back and find the lamb. It was about an hour before sunset, and he probably had time, if the lamb hadn't strayed too far.
It was, however, the fourth of May. People here in the mountains would not willingly go out after dark on the fourth of May. Some would call them superstitious - - they themselves did not, referring to it instead as piety. You didn't go outside on the eve of St. George's Day, nor on other days throughout the year - - the eve of All Hallows or the feast day of St. Walpurga, which had passed several days before. Andrej had stayed the night in another village some twenty miles back on that day.
He called to Štefan, the peasant charged with watching over the animal pens, and told him that he was going in search of a lamb, back toward the forest. Štefan glanced at the sun, now westering, casting long shadows, and said, "You know what evening this is, yes?" Andrej nodded. Štefan went into his hut, returned with several heads of garlic. "Go with God, Andrej. Try to be back before dusk, yes?" Andrej nodded again, taking the garlic and stuffing them into a pocket. He also took out his rosary and draped it around his neck, outside of his lambskin tunic, pausing to kiss the crucifix reverently. Taking up his valaška he set off down the road, Štefan watching silently until the cold drove him into his hut.
It had been a clear, sunny day, but with not much warmth in the air, because of the elevation here in the mountain foothills. Now, with the sun nearly on the horizon and obscured here and there by trees, evening brought a chill. The steel axehead of Andrej's valaška was cold in his hand, even through the fingerless gloves that he wore. The valaška was the ethnic weapon of the Slovak: a cane-length staff with an axehead at one end and a spike at the other end to assist in walking. Andrej's valaška had an axe blade on one side and a hammering head on the other. Some valaškas, instead of a hammer, had a spike for digging in the ground. Andrej preferred the hammering head; it was useful when he made camp in the evenings. Some effete town Slovaks carried valaška-like objects with ornamental brass or wooden heads, useless for any serious work, and he had heard stories that in the largest cities Slovaks were forbidden by law to carry a valaška at all. He snorted. The proper Slovak response to such a demand is to bash the stupid whoreson over the head with it!
He had walked about two miles along the road, seeing no sign of the lamb. He was now in the forested area where he suspected that the little animal went astray. He heard no howls that would indicate wolves in the area, but foxes abound in the wilderness and happily eat lamb when the opportunity offers. The sun was down now behind the horizon, but the glow of evening was still bright enough to see by. Andrej's breath steamed a bit as he walked.
Suddenly, off the road in the forest he heard the bleating of a lamb, hungry and calling for its mother. Andrej muttered "I'm coming!" under his breath, and plunged into the forest. As he ventured further he paused to leave blaze-marks on trees he passed, not wishing to become lost in the darkness. The bleating of the lamb continued, now a little more faintly, as if the lamb was moving further into the forest. Andrej followed, hoping he could get the lamb and be back on the road before it was fully dark; it was, after all, the fourth of May. That thought caused him to shiver, as if someone had stepped on his grave, as the old saying goes. He began murmuring prayers under his breath as he strode on, the spike of his valaška sinking into the forest floor and helping him to recover when he stumbled. He said a Pater Noster, then an Ave Maria, the last line of which he hoped wasn't a premonition: now and at the hour of our death. He next said a Gloria Patri and this reassured him, so he repeated it as he walked, listening for the lamb and striking passing trees with the axehead of his valaška, scoring the bark off and exposing the white wood underneath, a blaze to help him find his way back to the road.
The bleating of the lamb then became frenzied, and much closer; and, peering through the gloom of the trees, he saw the lamb ahead of him, with a figure in white crouching over it. A large oak tree overspread the ground beside the lamb and the crouching figure. Andrej plunged forward with a cry. The figure in white turned sharply, hearing the noise; a white face shown pale, with red eyes and the heavy mustachios of a Slovak: hatless, the lambskin tunic filthy, the wide belt stained as if with water damage; the breeks torn as by thorns; no shoes or stockings on the dirty feet. Andrej felt a chill run down his spine. Upir, he thought to himself. Vampire.
"Vade retro, Satana!" shouted Andrej, his voice trembling. The words recalled the rest of the incantation against evil things, and Andrej shouted them at the upir:
Crux sancta mihi lux,
Non draco mihi dux,
Vade retro, Satana!
Numquam suade mihi vana;
Sunt mala quae libas.
Ipse venena bibas!
(Let the Holy Cross be my light,
Let not the Dragon be my guide,
Step back, Satan!
Never tempt me with vain things;
What you offer me is evil.
Drink the poison yourself!)
The upir shrieked, as if the words burned it; then, with arms outstretched and claws grasping, it rushed at Andrej. Andrej, stepping back himself, caught his ankle in a root and fell backwards, grasping convulsively at his valaška as he did so, and as the upir fell upon him, he raised it so the spike projected outward. The upir's spring met the spike and it pierced his chest, transfixing his heart. Screaming, the upir clawed at Andrej, who held tightly to the valaška so that the upir would not pull it out. As the upir struggled with Andrej its claws touched Anrej's rosary beads, which burned his undead flesh.
Andrej finally managed to kick and punch himself loose from the upir, not without receiving some scratches from the creature's claws on his arms and face. Andrej rolled onto his hands and knees beside the upir, which was convulsing on the ground beside him, the valaška still embedded in its chest. Andrej got shakily to his feet and grasped the valaška by its head, using it to turn the upir onto its back. He leaned his weight on the valaška, driving it deeper into the monster's body and finally through it, fastening the vampire to the ground. The upir screamed and screamed, its long fangs cutting its lips, its Slovak tunic a blanket of black heart's blood. Andrej held it there, pinioned, while its struggles became feebler, and its screams died down to inarticulate hisses. Finally, it was still. The lamb continued its bleating a few yards away.
It was now fully dark. Andrej stood shakily on his feet, panting. I am getting too old for this, he thought to himself. He crossed himself and said a quick Gloria Patri, then a sort of mini-Litany that he made up on the spot, thanking the Father, Jesus the Son, the Holy Ghost, the Virgin and St. Andrew (his patron) for preserving his life. Nearby the lamb still bleated.
Andrej looked at the dead upir, with Andrej's valaška still sticking out of its chest. Andrej knew that, to be sure of a vampire's destruction, that it was advisable to cut off the head. He thought for a minute or so, then figured a solution. He went over to the dead upir and grasped the axehead of the valaška, then shook it slightly, making sure the undead was truly dead. It remained still. Andrej, grasping the valaška, turned the dead upir onto its side; then, placing his booted foot on the shaft of the valaška halfway down its length, he hauled up sharply on the head, breaking it off so that the lower half was still embedded in the upir's dead body, while the upper half now gave him a stubby hatchet. He used this to chop off the upir's head; it took about a dozen strokes, and revolted Andrej so much that he grunted with each swing: Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Finally the head separated from the body, which at that point sagged and seemed to slacken. Andrej, remembering the garlic that Štefan had given him, pulled it out of his pocket, and stuffed the garlic into the upir's dead mouth, using the stub of the valaška's handle to push it in. The dead upir's eyes stared unseeing. The lamb continued its pitiable bleating.
Andrej looked around. It was fully dark and time to leave. No use tempting Satan further. He slid the remains of his valaška under his wide, nail-studded Slovak belt and went over to the lamb. Picking it up, he looked around one last time, then began his return to the road, looking for the blazes he had left on the trees. He found them, and soon was back to the road. He began his trip back to the village, the lamb in his arms.
Not long before he left the forested area, off to the right, he suddenly saw a blue light out of the corner of his eye, just off the road, near the beginning of the trees. Remembering the old legends, he quickly put the lamb down and ran over to the ground where a blue flame danced. He took the remains of his valaška from his belt, and stuck it into the ground where the flame showed; then he backed away to the road, squinting to make sure that the shiny axe-head was visible from the road. It was. He again picked up the lamb, and walked the miles back to the village. When he arrived, of course the superstitious peasants would not let him into the inn; even Štefan at the animal pens had his door bolted firmly shut and would not answer his calls. Andrej, resigned, placed the lamb into the animal pen, watching until it found its mother and began suckling, then made his way over to the church, which he knew would be open: churches in Slovakia remain open the year around; evil things will not enter, and honest men fear to steal from the House of God. Andrej entered the church and, asking forgiveness from God, drank some of the Holy Water, and used more of it to clean the scratches that the upir left on his face and arms. The water felt clean and wholesome on his skin. After his ablutions he went to the communion rail and knelt, and thanked God for his deliverance. A devout man, he said the Publican's Prayer: Lord, have mercy on me, a poor sinner. He said this again and again, hoping that God heard. Finally, he crossed himself, and crept into a corner to sleep, his stomach grumbling at a missed supper, but he sternly told his stomach to be quiet.
He slept through until dawn the next morning, when he was awakened by the priest, who came to say his daily Mass. Andrej asked the priest to hear his confession, which shocked and horrified the old man, then stayed for Mass; he took Communion, again thanking God for His mercy.
After Mass he went to the inn for a proper bath and a huge breakfast. The innkeeper apologized for not admitting him the night before; Andrej shrugged it off, knowing the custom of the country as well as any man. He'd have done the same himself, if he had a house of his own. After breakfast he made his way to the animal pens and talked to Štefan of the previous night's events; not going into much detail. He borrowed a spade and a sack from Štefan and, promising to be back in a couple of hours, strode off down the road yet again.
He soon found himself in the forest, next to the huge oak tree where the body of the upir still remained. Using the spade he quickly dug two shallow graves; into one he dragged the upir's dead body; into the other he placed the head. He covered them over with dirt and leaves, said a quick prayer for the upir's soul, and departed.
He made his way back toward the village; along the way he looked for his valaška along the side of the road, where he had spiked it into the ground; eventually he found it. Pulling it out of the ground, he dug in that spot with the spade; about a foot down the spade struck something which scraped at the edge of the blade. Stooping down to the hole he scraped carefully until he revealed a terra-cotta pot, such as one might cook food in. Dragging it out of the hole he laid it on its side, looked at it carefully for a few moments, then struck it with the hammering head of his valaška, shattering it. Hundreds of coins spilled out; most of them the black of old silver, but more than a few shiny golden coins, as well. Picking one of these up he saw that it was Roman, and the emperor shown on the face was Marcus Aurelius. Most of the coins in the pile were Roman, as well, but some were from the Germanic tribes of the period, or so he guessed. He gathered all of them into the bag and, thanking God for his good fortune, returned to the village.
Epilogue: Slovak By the Sea
Andrej gifted a tenth of his hoard to the priest at the village church, to be used for the good of the community. He gifted Štefan his herd of sheep, purchased a horse, and vanished. He made his way to the sea, which he had never seen: the Adriatic, where he made his way to one of the islands off the Balkan coast, where he had a stone cottage built and where he lived in sunny quiet the rest of his days. He dressed as the other locals did, save for his fierce Slovak mustache, and the strange axe-headed cane he always carried. Occasionally after drinking too much wine he'd hint about his adventurous past, and pat the cane affectionately; you never know, he'd say, when you'll need a good valaška by your side!
© 23 March 2013 by Robert G. Evans. All Rights Reserved.
Especially tonight, the fourth of May.
As Andrej herded his sheep into one of the pens near the edge of the village, he counted them, using his rosary beads to keep track of how many had entered. Since it was spring there were numerous lambs to keep track of. He finished his tally, frowning to himself. Eighty-four, he thought to himself. There should be eighty-five. He started his count again. He knew exactly how many rams, ewes and lambs he owned. At the end of the recount, he still came up one short. A lamb had gone missing.
He pondered, thinking of the road he had taken to the village. Several miles back the road skirted a forest, and some of the sheep had been out of his sight around a curve for part of the journey past it. He would have to go back and find the lamb. It was about an hour before sunset, and he probably had time, if the lamb hadn't strayed too far.
It was, however, the fourth of May. People here in the mountains would not willingly go out after dark on the fourth of May. Some would call them superstitious - - they themselves did not, referring to it instead as piety. You didn't go outside on the eve of St. George's Day, nor on other days throughout the year - - the eve of All Hallows or the feast day of St. Walpurga, which had passed several days before. Andrej had stayed the night in another village some twenty miles back on that day.
He called to Štefan, the peasant charged with watching over the animal pens, and told him that he was going in search of a lamb, back toward the forest. Štefan glanced at the sun, now westering, casting long shadows, and said, "You know what evening this is, yes?" Andrej nodded. Štefan went into his hut, returned with several heads of garlic. "Go with God, Andrej. Try to be back before dusk, yes?" Andrej nodded again, taking the garlic and stuffing them into a pocket. He also took out his rosary and draped it around his neck, outside of his lambskin tunic, pausing to kiss the crucifix reverently. Taking up his valaška he set off down the road, Štefan watching silently until the cold drove him into his hut.
It had been a clear, sunny day, but with not much warmth in the air, because of the elevation here in the mountain foothills. Now, with the sun nearly on the horizon and obscured here and there by trees, evening brought a chill. The steel axehead of Andrej's valaška was cold in his hand, even through the fingerless gloves that he wore. The valaška was the ethnic weapon of the Slovak: a cane-length staff with an axehead at one end and a spike at the other end to assist in walking. Andrej's valaška had an axe blade on one side and a hammering head on the other. Some valaškas, instead of a hammer, had a spike for digging in the ground. Andrej preferred the hammering head; it was useful when he made camp in the evenings. Some effete town Slovaks carried valaška-like objects with ornamental brass or wooden heads, useless for any serious work, and he had heard stories that in the largest cities Slovaks were forbidden by law to carry a valaška at all. He snorted. The proper Slovak response to such a demand is to bash the stupid whoreson over the head with it!
He had walked about two miles along the road, seeing no sign of the lamb. He was now in the forested area where he suspected that the little animal went astray. He heard no howls that would indicate wolves in the area, but foxes abound in the wilderness and happily eat lamb when the opportunity offers. The sun was down now behind the horizon, but the glow of evening was still bright enough to see by. Andrej's breath steamed a bit as he walked.
Suddenly, off the road in the forest he heard the bleating of a lamb, hungry and calling for its mother. Andrej muttered "I'm coming!" under his breath, and plunged into the forest. As he ventured further he paused to leave blaze-marks on trees he passed, not wishing to become lost in the darkness. The bleating of the lamb continued, now a little more faintly, as if the lamb was moving further into the forest. Andrej followed, hoping he could get the lamb and be back on the road before it was fully dark; it was, after all, the fourth of May. That thought caused him to shiver, as if someone had stepped on his grave, as the old saying goes. He began murmuring prayers under his breath as he strode on, the spike of his valaška sinking into the forest floor and helping him to recover when he stumbled. He said a Pater Noster, then an Ave Maria, the last line of which he hoped wasn't a premonition: now and at the hour of our death. He next said a Gloria Patri and this reassured him, so he repeated it as he walked, listening for the lamb and striking passing trees with the axehead of his valaška, scoring the bark off and exposing the white wood underneath, a blaze to help him find his way back to the road.
The bleating of the lamb then became frenzied, and much closer; and, peering through the gloom of the trees, he saw the lamb ahead of him, with a figure in white crouching over it. A large oak tree overspread the ground beside the lamb and the crouching figure. Andrej plunged forward with a cry. The figure in white turned sharply, hearing the noise; a white face shown pale, with red eyes and the heavy mustachios of a Slovak: hatless, the lambskin tunic filthy, the wide belt stained as if with water damage; the breeks torn as by thorns; no shoes or stockings on the dirty feet. Andrej felt a chill run down his spine. Upir, he thought to himself. Vampire.
"Vade retro, Satana!" shouted Andrej, his voice trembling. The words recalled the rest of the incantation against evil things, and Andrej shouted them at the upir:
Crux sancta mihi lux,
Non draco mihi dux,
Vade retro, Satana!
Numquam suade mihi vana;
Sunt mala quae libas.
Ipse venena bibas!
(Let the Holy Cross be my light,
Let not the Dragon be my guide,
Step back, Satan!
Never tempt me with vain things;
What you offer me is evil.
Drink the poison yourself!)
The upir shrieked, as if the words burned it; then, with arms outstretched and claws grasping, it rushed at Andrej. Andrej, stepping back himself, caught his ankle in a root and fell backwards, grasping convulsively at his valaška as he did so, and as the upir fell upon him, he raised it so the spike projected outward. The upir's spring met the spike and it pierced his chest, transfixing his heart. Screaming, the upir clawed at Andrej, who held tightly to the valaška so that the upir would not pull it out. As the upir struggled with Andrej its claws touched Anrej's rosary beads, which burned his undead flesh.
Andrej finally managed to kick and punch himself loose from the upir, not without receiving some scratches from the creature's claws on his arms and face. Andrej rolled onto his hands and knees beside the upir, which was convulsing on the ground beside him, the valaška still embedded in its chest. Andrej got shakily to his feet and grasped the valaška by its head, using it to turn the upir onto its back. He leaned his weight on the valaška, driving it deeper into the monster's body and finally through it, fastening the vampire to the ground. The upir screamed and screamed, its long fangs cutting its lips, its Slovak tunic a blanket of black heart's blood. Andrej held it there, pinioned, while its struggles became feebler, and its screams died down to inarticulate hisses. Finally, it was still. The lamb continued its bleating a few yards away.
It was now fully dark. Andrej stood shakily on his feet, panting. I am getting too old for this, he thought to himself. He crossed himself and said a quick Gloria Patri, then a sort of mini-Litany that he made up on the spot, thanking the Father, Jesus the Son, the Holy Ghost, the Virgin and St. Andrew (his patron) for preserving his life. Nearby the lamb still bleated.
Andrej looked at the dead upir, with Andrej's valaška still sticking out of its chest. Andrej knew that, to be sure of a vampire's destruction, that it was advisable to cut off the head. He thought for a minute or so, then figured a solution. He went over to the dead upir and grasped the axehead of the valaška, then shook it slightly, making sure the undead was truly dead. It remained still. Andrej, grasping the valaška, turned the dead upir onto its side; then, placing his booted foot on the shaft of the valaška halfway down its length, he hauled up sharply on the head, breaking it off so that the lower half was still embedded in the upir's dead body, while the upper half now gave him a stubby hatchet. He used this to chop off the upir's head; it took about a dozen strokes, and revolted Andrej so much that he grunted with each swing: Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Finally the head separated from the body, which at that point sagged and seemed to slacken. Andrej, remembering the garlic that Štefan had given him, pulled it out of his pocket, and stuffed the garlic into the upir's dead mouth, using the stub of the valaška's handle to push it in. The dead upir's eyes stared unseeing. The lamb continued its pitiable bleating.
Andrej looked around. It was fully dark and time to leave. No use tempting Satan further. He slid the remains of his valaška under his wide, nail-studded Slovak belt and went over to the lamb. Picking it up, he looked around one last time, then began his return to the road, looking for the blazes he had left on the trees. He found them, and soon was back to the road. He began his trip back to the village, the lamb in his arms.
Not long before he left the forested area, off to the right, he suddenly saw a blue light out of the corner of his eye, just off the road, near the beginning of the trees. Remembering the old legends, he quickly put the lamb down and ran over to the ground where a blue flame danced. He took the remains of his valaška from his belt, and stuck it into the ground where the flame showed; then he backed away to the road, squinting to make sure that the shiny axe-head was visible from the road. It was. He again picked up the lamb, and walked the miles back to the village. When he arrived, of course the superstitious peasants would not let him into the inn; even Štefan at the animal pens had his door bolted firmly shut and would not answer his calls. Andrej, resigned, placed the lamb into the animal pen, watching until it found its mother and began suckling, then made his way over to the church, which he knew would be open: churches in Slovakia remain open the year around; evil things will not enter, and honest men fear to steal from the House of God. Andrej entered the church and, asking forgiveness from God, drank some of the Holy Water, and used more of it to clean the scratches that the upir left on his face and arms. The water felt clean and wholesome on his skin. After his ablutions he went to the communion rail and knelt, and thanked God for his deliverance. A devout man, he said the Publican's Prayer: Lord, have mercy on me, a poor sinner. He said this again and again, hoping that God heard. Finally, he crossed himself, and crept into a corner to sleep, his stomach grumbling at a missed supper, but he sternly told his stomach to be quiet.
He slept through until dawn the next morning, when he was awakened by the priest, who came to say his daily Mass. Andrej asked the priest to hear his confession, which shocked and horrified the old man, then stayed for Mass; he took Communion, again thanking God for His mercy.
After Mass he went to the inn for a proper bath and a huge breakfast. The innkeeper apologized for not admitting him the night before; Andrej shrugged it off, knowing the custom of the country as well as any man. He'd have done the same himself, if he had a house of his own. After breakfast he made his way to the animal pens and talked to Štefan of the previous night's events; not going into much detail. He borrowed a spade and a sack from Štefan and, promising to be back in a couple of hours, strode off down the road yet again.
He soon found himself in the forest, next to the huge oak tree where the body of the upir still remained. Using the spade he quickly dug two shallow graves; into one he dragged the upir's dead body; into the other he placed the head. He covered them over with dirt and leaves, said a quick prayer for the upir's soul, and departed.
He made his way back toward the village; along the way he looked for his valaška along the side of the road, where he had spiked it into the ground; eventually he found it. Pulling it out of the ground, he dug in that spot with the spade; about a foot down the spade struck something which scraped at the edge of the blade. Stooping down to the hole he scraped carefully until he revealed a terra-cotta pot, such as one might cook food in. Dragging it out of the hole he laid it on its side, looked at it carefully for a few moments, then struck it with the hammering head of his valaška, shattering it. Hundreds of coins spilled out; most of them the black of old silver, but more than a few shiny golden coins, as well. Picking one of these up he saw that it was Roman, and the emperor shown on the face was Marcus Aurelius. Most of the coins in the pile were Roman, as well, but some were from the Germanic tribes of the period, or so he guessed. He gathered all of them into the bag and, thanking God for his good fortune, returned to the village.
Epilogue: Slovak By the Sea
Andrej gifted a tenth of his hoard to the priest at the village church, to be used for the good of the community. He gifted Štefan his herd of sheep, purchased a horse, and vanished. He made his way to the sea, which he had never seen: the Adriatic, where he made his way to one of the islands off the Balkan coast, where he had a stone cottage built and where he lived in sunny quiet the rest of his days. He dressed as the other locals did, save for his fierce Slovak mustache, and the strange axe-headed cane he always carried. Occasionally after drinking too much wine he'd hint about his adventurous past, and pat the cane affectionately; you never know, he'd say, when you'll need a good valaška by your side!
© 23 March 2013 by Robert G. Evans. All Rights Reserved.
Friday, March 22, 2013
Blogging Note
Sorry for not posting anything today. I'm working on a short story that I'll publish in a day or so, as soon as it's written. Best wishes to all of you.
Thursday, March 21, 2013
Corned Horse
More equine taste treats from UK:
Asda has withdrawn tens of thousands of its own brand corned beef - after it was found to contain up to 50 per cent horsemeat, it emerged today.
The supermarket giant removed the £1.54 products from stores across Britain two weeks ago on March 8 - and tests this week showed quantities of horse DNA above trace levels.
Leicestershire County Council found the ingredients of one batch of the 340g tins were half horse, but Leeds-based Asda has insisted it only found levels of up to five per cent.
Asda, which has carried out more than 700 tests on products during the horsemeat scandal, has now had eight products that have been positive for at least traces of horse, reported The Sun.
A spokesman for Asda said the chain has ‘taken a belt and braces approach’ to testing for horse DNA and quickly removed any products from its shelves ‘whenever we’ve had any concerns’.
The Walmart-owned chain with 500-plus stores, whose Smart Price Corned Beef is manufactured by French supplier Toupnot, has also scraped its Chosen By You Corned Beef line, reported the Sun.
Project for you readers: name your favorite beef dish/food, but substitute the word "horse" for the word "beef." Examples: Horse Stew, Horse Jerky. Leave your offerings in comments.
Asda has withdrawn tens of thousands of its own brand corned beef - after it was found to contain up to 50 per cent horsemeat, it emerged today.
The supermarket giant removed the £1.54 products from stores across Britain two weeks ago on March 8 - and tests this week showed quantities of horse DNA above trace levels.
Leicestershire County Council found the ingredients of one batch of the 340g tins were half horse, but Leeds-based Asda has insisted it only found levels of up to five per cent.
Asda, which has carried out more than 700 tests on products during the horsemeat scandal, has now had eight products that have been positive for at least traces of horse, reported The Sun.
A spokesman for Asda said the chain has ‘taken a belt and braces approach’ to testing for horse DNA and quickly removed any products from its shelves ‘whenever we’ve had any concerns’.
The Walmart-owned chain with 500-plus stores, whose Smart Price Corned Beef is manufactured by French supplier Toupnot, has also scraped its Chosen By You Corned Beef line, reported the Sun.
Project for you readers: name your favorite beef dish/food, but substitute the word "horse" for the word "beef." Examples: Horse Stew, Horse Jerky. Leave your offerings in comments.
Can We Nuke Mecca Now?
The Aurora Theater mass murderer now says Allah made him do it.
Just Call Him James bin Holmes Al-Kook.
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
Meanwhile, At Cross Creek, Florida...
...The Yearling Restaurant, named after Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings' famous novel, is for sale.
The Yearling Restaurant is a true Florida institution; I remember eating there as a boy. In addition to the usual fish camp fare (the restaurant is located at Cross Creek, between Orange and Lochloosa Lakes) it has also been possible to dine on wild-caught Florida food such as alligator, possum...and cooter. As a matter of fact, t-shirts, license plates and other items emblazoned with the slogan EAT MORE COOTER AT THE YEARLING RESTAURANT! have been popular for decades.
What's a cooter, you might ask? Well, it's one of these:
Cooter is also a euphemism. You can visit the Soylent Sage blog and see lots of cooter, although he calls it "snooch."
Anyway, the restaurant is for sale, so if you always wanted to own a piece of true Florida, now's your chance.
The Yearling Restaurant is a true Florida institution; I remember eating there as a boy. In addition to the usual fish camp fare (the restaurant is located at Cross Creek, between Orange and Lochloosa Lakes) it has also been possible to dine on wild-caught Florida food such as alligator, possum...and cooter. As a matter of fact, t-shirts, license plates and other items emblazoned with the slogan EAT MORE COOTER AT THE YEARLING RESTAURANT! have been popular for decades.
What's a cooter, you might ask? Well, it's one of these:
Cooter is also a euphemism. You can visit the Soylent Sage blog and see lots of cooter, although he calls it "snooch."
Anyway, the restaurant is for sale, so if you always wanted to own a piece of true Florida, now's your chance.
Do Ya Feel Lucky, Punk?
Death Wish Coffee.
A U.S. coffee company is claiming to produce the first and last cup of coffee ever needed to kick start your work day.
Death Wish, a medium-dark roast coffee blend roasted in Upstate New York, claims to be the 'most highly caffeinated premium dark roast organic coffee in the world.'
The brand, featuring a menacing black skull and cross bones, says they use coffee beans containing close to 200% of the amount of caffeine found in a typical coffee shop coffee.
Pic:
A U.S. coffee company is claiming to produce the first and last cup of coffee ever needed to kick start your work day.
Death Wish, a medium-dark roast coffee blend roasted in Upstate New York, claims to be the 'most highly caffeinated premium dark roast organic coffee in the world.'
The brand, featuring a menacing black skull and cross bones, says they use coffee beans containing close to 200% of the amount of caffeine found in a typical coffee shop coffee.
Pic:
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
Lost In the Woods
Looks as if 90's folk singer Michelle Shocked can't find her way.
In the annals of the Most Disastrous Shows Ever, there is a new entry. Folk-rock singer Michelle Shocked had the plug pulled on her concert Sunday night after launching into an anti-gay-marriage speech that led most of the audience to walk out.
Did we mention that her fans largely lean well to the left, thanks to the liberal politics that previously infused much of her music, and that the gig where she chose to come out (so to speak) as an Old Testament-citing preacher on homosexual issues was in the heart of San Francisco?
Click the link to read the rest. Shocked made one really good, popular album, and then wandered into the forest of leftist politics, even joining Code Pink for a while. Now it seems that, trying to find her way out, she stumbled into the area where Westboro Baptist Church finds its inspiration. I hope that she finds her way out.
I'd link a few of her tunes, but it looks as if she doesn't want any of them on YouTube.
In the annals of the Most Disastrous Shows Ever, there is a new entry. Folk-rock singer Michelle Shocked had the plug pulled on her concert Sunday night after launching into an anti-gay-marriage speech that led most of the audience to walk out.
Did we mention that her fans largely lean well to the left, thanks to the liberal politics that previously infused much of her music, and that the gig where she chose to come out (so to speak) as an Old Testament-citing preacher on homosexual issues was in the heart of San Francisco?
Click the link to read the rest. Shocked made one really good, popular album, and then wandered into the forest of leftist politics, even joining Code Pink for a while. Now it seems that, trying to find her way out, she stumbled into the area where Westboro Baptist Church finds its inspiration. I hope that she finds her way out.
I'd link a few of her tunes, but it looks as if she doesn't want any of them on YouTube.
Monday, March 18, 2013
Magpul Prepares To Leave Colorado
They aren't by any stretch of the imagination joking.
Magpul Industries Corp.
Apparently Gov Hickenlooper has announced that he will sign HB 1224 on Wednesday. We were asked for our reaction, and here is what we said:
We have said all along that based on the legal problems and uncertainties in the bill, as well as general principle, we will have no choice but to leave if the Governor signs this into law. We will start our transition out of the state almost immediately, and we will prioritize moving magazine manufacturing operations first. We expect the first PMAGs to be made outside CO within 30 days of the signing, with the rest to follow in phases. We will likely become a multi-state operation as a result of this move, and not all locations have been selected. We have made some initial contacts and evaluated a list of new potential locations for additional manufacturing and the new company headquarters, and we will begin talks with various state representatives in earnest if the Governor indeed signs this legislation. Although we are agile for a company of our size, it is still a significant footprint, and we will perform this move in a manner that is best for the company and our employees.
It is disappointing to us that money and a social agenda from outside the state have apparently penetrated the American West to control our legislature and Governor, but we feel confident that Colorado residents can still take the state back through recalls, ballot initiatives, and the 2014 election to undo these wrongs against responsible Citizens.
Sad to see your country Balkanized.
Magpul Industries Corp.
Apparently Gov Hickenlooper has announced that he will sign HB 1224 on Wednesday. We were asked for our reaction, and here is what we said:
We have said all along that based on the legal problems and uncertainties in the bill, as well as general principle, we will have no choice but to leave if the Governor signs this into law. We will start our transition out of the state almost immediately, and we will prioritize moving magazine manufacturing operations first. We expect the first PMAGs to be made outside CO within 30 days of the signing, with the rest to follow in phases. We will likely become a multi-state operation as a result of this move, and not all locations have been selected. We have made some initial contacts and evaluated a list of new potential locations for additional manufacturing and the new company headquarters, and we will begin talks with various state representatives in earnest if the Governor indeed signs this legislation. Although we are agile for a company of our size, it is still a significant footprint, and we will perform this move in a manner that is best for the company and our employees.
It is disappointing to us that money and a social agenda from outside the state have apparently penetrated the American West to control our legislature and Governor, but we feel confident that Colorado residents can still take the state back through recalls, ballot initiatives, and the 2014 election to undo these wrongs against responsible Citizens.
Sad to see your country Balkanized.
The Walking Dead: Return of Gun Control
WARNING: SPOILER ALERT!
In Sunday night's episode Prey, guns are "collected" from the citizens of Woodbury so that they can be used in an attack on Rick's group. Andrea has to hand her pistol over to Martinez, thus leaving her unarmed when she leaves Woodbury and is chased by the Governor. This handicaps Andrea, of course, leaving her to fight Walkers with nothing in hand but a small knife; likewise, she is unable to effectively combat the Governor. In the end,that decision is what leads to the final scene of the show: Andrea ball-gagged in the Governor's "torture chair," waiting for him to show up and start indulging his twisted fantasies.
In a zombie apocalypse, you can't afford to be disarmed - - by anyone. The world is such that you need a weapon at hand at all times, and no one has the right to tell you otherwise; and anyone attempting to disarm you is no more or less than an enemy who desires your death.
It's interesting to me that, in the world of The Walking Dead, that attempts to organize healthy, sustainable communities are so unsuccessful. Has the essential goodness of humanity deteriorated to such a degree that no one willingly takes in the stranger on trust? A few episodes ago, Rick, Carl and Michonne ignored a hiker screaming for aid - - twice - - along the side of the road; and, in the closing credits, you see them finally stop to loot his backpack after he's been attacked and devoured by the dead. Would southern country people really behave in that fashion? I'd think that they'd more likely organize quickly around their church groups/neighbors/friends and form defensive communities, and quickly expand in size as new people showed up; each newcomer provisionally accepted into the group, depending on good behavior and willingness to contribute to the community's survival. Woodbury isn't an example of this because the townsfolk have surrendered their autonomy to the Governor and his minions: just who "elected" him Governor, anyway, and how do the townspeople get rid of him when he proves inadequate? If they aren't armed at all times, they don't; and you'll notice that the folk of Woodbury are mostly unarmed, most of the time. This state of affairs might happen in a zombie apocalypse later on, when most of the zombies have been destroyed; not in the early stages, when to leave the security of the frontier fort (and that's what these communities are: forts, castles; refuges from the dangers outside) is to take one's life into one's own hands.
In Sunday night's episode Prey, guns are "collected" from the citizens of Woodbury so that they can be used in an attack on Rick's group. Andrea has to hand her pistol over to Martinez, thus leaving her unarmed when she leaves Woodbury and is chased by the Governor. This handicaps Andrea, of course, leaving her to fight Walkers with nothing in hand but a small knife; likewise, she is unable to effectively combat the Governor. In the end,that decision is what leads to the final scene of the show: Andrea ball-gagged in the Governor's "torture chair," waiting for him to show up and start indulging his twisted fantasies.
In a zombie apocalypse, you can't afford to be disarmed - - by anyone. The world is such that you need a weapon at hand at all times, and no one has the right to tell you otherwise; and anyone attempting to disarm you is no more or less than an enemy who desires your death.
It's interesting to me that, in the world of The Walking Dead, that attempts to organize healthy, sustainable communities are so unsuccessful. Has the essential goodness of humanity deteriorated to such a degree that no one willingly takes in the stranger on trust? A few episodes ago, Rick, Carl and Michonne ignored a hiker screaming for aid - - twice - - along the side of the road; and, in the closing credits, you see them finally stop to loot his backpack after he's been attacked and devoured by the dead. Would southern country people really behave in that fashion? I'd think that they'd more likely organize quickly around their church groups/neighbors/friends and form defensive communities, and quickly expand in size as new people showed up; each newcomer provisionally accepted into the group, depending on good behavior and willingness to contribute to the community's survival. Woodbury isn't an example of this because the townsfolk have surrendered their autonomy to the Governor and his minions: just who "elected" him Governor, anyway, and how do the townspeople get rid of him when he proves inadequate? If they aren't armed at all times, they don't; and you'll notice that the folk of Woodbury are mostly unarmed, most of the time. This state of affairs might happen in a zombie apocalypse later on, when most of the zombies have been destroyed; not in the early stages, when to leave the security of the frontier fort (and that's what these communities are: forts, castles; refuges from the dangers outside) is to take one's life into one's own hands.
Meanwhile, In the Holy Land...
...medical science, courtesy of the nation of Israel, allows the lame to walk.
Liable to cause "dust in the eye" syndrome.
Liable to cause "dust in the eye" syndrome.
For You Airplane Fans
There's a restored British Mosquito bomber at the Military Aviation Museum in Virginia Beach, VA.
Sorry, no pics with the article. It's the only flyable Mosquito in the world. Here is the museum's website.
Sorry, no pics with the article. It's the only flyable Mosquito in the world. Here is the museum's website.
Sunday, March 17, 2013
Happy St. Patrick's Day.
I've been busy reading the Captain Alatriste novels of Spanish author Arturo Perez-Reverte. I've been hearing of Perez-Reverte for years now; I think that his The Fencing Master was the first book review that made me want to investigate further. Anyway, Oleg Volk recently reviewed the books and the resulting movie, and pronounced them worthy, so I decided to plunge in; read the first one in the series, liked it, and quickly acquired all the others that have been published and translated into English. Part of the additional draw for me was my three years in Spain itself, being able to see many of the places described in the books: Seville, Cadiz, Sanlucar, Puerto de Santa Maria.
They are worthy books; Perez-Reverte speaks in aphorism at times, so I constantly find myself reaching for a highlighter pen:
In this Spain full of crooked, rapacious functionaries,you could get anything you liked, so long as you had stolen enough to pay for it.
I had once heard the captain say that the thing that helps a man die well is knowing that he had done all he can to avoid death.
Honor is a very complicated thing to acquire, difficult to preserve, and dangerous to sustain.
It is said, and it is very true, that the moment when vice becomes the custom marks the death of a republic, for the dissolute person ceases to be considered loathsome, and all baseness becomes normal.
...but there are things you must say when it is time to say them, or risk regretting it all your life. Although what one may later regret is having spoken at all.
...this was the custom of veteran soldiers, who establish escape routes before a combat, for when a bad card is dealt, there is not always sufficient time or clarity of judgment to make such useful appraisals.
But no one is in complete control of whom he hates or whom he loves.
I'll have to re-read the series again in the future, so as to highlight some more of these; I didn't realize at first that there would be so many of these scattered throughout the texts.
The series isn't yet complete; two proposed books remain unwritten, and one has yet to be translated. Hopefully Perez-Reverte, a man still in middle age, will find time to complete the series.
They are worthy books; Perez-Reverte speaks in aphorism at times, so I constantly find myself reaching for a highlighter pen:
In this Spain full of crooked, rapacious functionaries,you could get anything you liked, so long as you had stolen enough to pay for it.
I had once heard the captain say that the thing that helps a man die well is knowing that he had done all he can to avoid death.
Honor is a very complicated thing to acquire, difficult to preserve, and dangerous to sustain.
It is said, and it is very true, that the moment when vice becomes the custom marks the death of a republic, for the dissolute person ceases to be considered loathsome, and all baseness becomes normal.
...but there are things you must say when it is time to say them, or risk regretting it all your life. Although what one may later regret is having spoken at all.
...this was the custom of veteran soldiers, who establish escape routes before a combat, for when a bad card is dealt, there is not always sufficient time or clarity of judgment to make such useful appraisals.
But no one is in complete control of whom he hates or whom he loves.
I'll have to re-read the series again in the future, so as to highlight some more of these; I didn't realize at first that there would be so many of these scattered throughout the texts.
The series isn't yet complete; two proposed books remain unwritten, and one has yet to be translated. Hopefully Perez-Reverte, a man still in middle age, will find time to complete the series.
Saturday, March 16, 2013
What Do You Do With a Drunken Sailor?
Bust him down to Seaman Recruit/three days bread and water, the brute!
PORT ORCHARD, Wash. — Authorities say a 31-year-old intoxicated sailor kicked in the door to a 70-year-old woman's home and told her to pray because he was to "blow her head off."
KOMO News reports hat active-duty sailor Matthew Clark was arrested early Friday after a neighbor called police because he heard yelling.
When officers arrived, they heard screaming from the residence and saw a man leave the house. Officers saw the woman's door kicked in and found her cowering in her bedroom.
Officers approached the man, who said he was doing a military exercise and had been drinking. He then started crying.
Yep, cry for your lost career. Dumbass.
PORT ORCHARD, Wash. — Authorities say a 31-year-old intoxicated sailor kicked in the door to a 70-year-old woman's home and told her to pray because he was to "blow her head off."
KOMO News reports hat active-duty sailor Matthew Clark was arrested early Friday after a neighbor called police because he heard yelling.
When officers arrived, they heard screaming from the residence and saw a man leave the house. Officers saw the woman's door kicked in and found her cowering in her bedroom.
Officers approached the man, who said he was doing a military exercise and had been drinking. He then started crying.
Yep, cry for your lost career. Dumbass.
Friday, March 15, 2013
Well, They ARE the Ebil Republicans
After all, who else has so much motive to poison President Obama?
Yes, that was sarcasm.
President Obama took to the Hill this week to mend fences with the GOP but he stopped short of actually breaking bread with conservatives in Congress, supposedly because he didn't have his cup bearer in tow at the Capitol.
The Secret Service won't confirm if the president does indeed have a 'Taster-in-Chief' to monitor the president's food but Republican Senator Susan Collins revealed the president wasn't able to eat at the Thursday luncheon given in his honor because of the security measure.
While Republican Senators chowed down on a delicious menu of lobster, potato chips and blueberry pie, the president was left salivating and longingly eying the delicacies.
Senator Collins had organized the Thursday pow wow, held in the Lyndon B. Johnson Room off the Senate chamber, and paid homage to her home state of Maine with a bevy of local delicacies. She said that the menu included, 'University of Maine recipe for healthy lobster salad - I pointed that out to the president in keeping with the first lady’s initiatives and Fox Family Potato Chips made in Aroostook County where I’m from and wild blueberry pie full of anti-oxidants,' according to an audio clip obtained by the Daily Caller. 'We did have a little ice cream on the pie too, also made in Maine, Gifford’s Ice Cream. So in all seriousness this was well received,' she told the press, after the lunch meeting that lasted 90 minutes.
Though GOP Senators who attended the event enjoyed the cuisine, the honored guest had to exercise self control and watch the others pleasure their taste buds.
'Apparently he has to have essentially a taster, and I pointed out to him that we were all tasters for him, that if the food had been poisoned all of us would have keeled over,' Sen. Collins said.
'He did look longingly at it and he remarked that we have far better food than the Democrats do, and I said that was because I was hosting.'
The article goes on to say that Obama isn't the first president to submit to this practice, apparently it goes back several administrations.
Here's the thing: I can't believe that Obama is so craven that he doesn't kick back against this practice. It tells me that thePraetorian Guard Secret Service enjoys too much power over the president's life.
Yes, that was sarcasm.
President Obama took to the Hill this week to mend fences with the GOP but he stopped short of actually breaking bread with conservatives in Congress, supposedly because he didn't have his cup bearer in tow at the Capitol.
The Secret Service won't confirm if the president does indeed have a 'Taster-in-Chief' to monitor the president's food but Republican Senator Susan Collins revealed the president wasn't able to eat at the Thursday luncheon given in his honor because of the security measure.
While Republican Senators chowed down on a delicious menu of lobster, potato chips and blueberry pie, the president was left salivating and longingly eying the delicacies.
Senator Collins had organized the Thursday pow wow, held in the Lyndon B. Johnson Room off the Senate chamber, and paid homage to her home state of Maine with a bevy of local delicacies. She said that the menu included, 'University of Maine recipe for healthy lobster salad - I pointed that out to the president in keeping with the first lady’s initiatives and Fox Family Potato Chips made in Aroostook County where I’m from and wild blueberry pie full of anti-oxidants,' according to an audio clip obtained by the Daily Caller. 'We did have a little ice cream on the pie too, also made in Maine, Gifford’s Ice Cream. So in all seriousness this was well received,' she told the press, after the lunch meeting that lasted 90 minutes.
Though GOP Senators who attended the event enjoyed the cuisine, the honored guest had to exercise self control and watch the others pleasure their taste buds.
'Apparently he has to have essentially a taster, and I pointed out to him that we were all tasters for him, that if the food had been poisoned all of us would have keeled over,' Sen. Collins said.
'He did look longingly at it and he remarked that we have far better food than the Democrats do, and I said that was because I was hosting.'
The article goes on to say that Obama isn't the first president to submit to this practice, apparently it goes back several administrations.
Here's the thing: I can't believe that Obama is so craven that he doesn't kick back against this practice. It tells me that the
What's News About That?
"'Moonshiners' Star Arrested For Public Intoxication."
Man, that's like busting Willie Nelson for smoking weed.
Man, that's like busting Willie Nelson for smoking weed.
The Charlotte Observer...
...is sponsoring a BBQ competition of Charlotte-area BBQ restaurants.
Personally I think they should have limited this contest to restaurants no further away than a 20-mile radius from Charlotte. Two of the contestants are in Shelby, 50 miles away.
If you're familiar with Charlotte and want to vote in the contest, click the link above. Or hell, even if you aren't.
I can't say I've eaten at all of the restaurants listed. I've eaten at 9 of the 16 listed, though. More than half.
Personally I think they should have limited this contest to restaurants no further away than a 20-mile radius from Charlotte. Two of the contestants are in Shelby, 50 miles away.
If you're familiar with Charlotte and want to vote in the contest, click the link above. Or hell, even if you aren't.
I can't say I've eaten at all of the restaurants listed. I've eaten at 9 of the 16 listed, though. More than half.
Thursday, March 14, 2013
Meanwhile, At Wrightsville Beach, NC...
...there won't be a Joe's Crab Shack at Johnny Mercer's Fishing Pier after all.
I can see now it was probably a bad fit; although the location on the pier itself is a great idea, there just isn't enough parking in that area to make anyone happy, and no way to increase parking without destroying existing buildings, which ain't happening.
I can see now it was probably a bad fit; although the location on the pier itself is a great idea, there just isn't enough parking in that area to make anyone happy, and no way to increase parking without destroying existing buildings, which ain't happening.
Regulation Nation
With SWAT teams to enforce those rules.
Meet Eustace Conway, 51, the owner of Turtle Camp near Boone, North Carolina. He's a back-to-the-land guy who bathes in a creek, grows his own food, and welcomes others to learn some survival skills at his place (which he runs as an educational nonprofit) for a small fee.
He's been doing this for 30 years, but he was recently featured on a reality TV show. That bought local planning officials sniffing around his campfire.
Want to guess what happened next?
A team of health, construction and fire officials showed up for an unannounced inspection of the preserve, acting on an anonymous tip. Escorted by two sheriffs' deputies, they executed what Mr. Conway describes as a "SWAT-team raid"—peering into outhouses, stomping around log cabins, and climbing hand-hewn ladders.
Their findings are compiled in a 78-page report with a bullet-point list of violations. Mr. Conway's sawdust urinal and outhouses? Unpermitted, according to the officials. The wood he used to erect two dozen buildings? Built with lumber that isn't "grade-marked," meaning it doesn't specify the mill where it was produced.
The open-air kitchen, with its crates of potatoes and stacks of pots? "Not protected from insects and animals," according to the report. "It is, in fact, outdoors."
The county says Mr. Conway must rebuild or tear down his cabins, barn, kitchen, blacksmith shop and sawmill, and create a septic system before hosting any more classes and camps.
"These buildings aren't fit for public use," says Joseph A. Furman, county planning director.
Meet Eustace Conway, 51, the owner of Turtle Camp near Boone, North Carolina. He's a back-to-the-land guy who bathes in a creek, grows his own food, and welcomes others to learn some survival skills at his place (which he runs as an educational nonprofit) for a small fee.
He's been doing this for 30 years, but he was recently featured on a reality TV show. That bought local planning officials sniffing around his campfire.
Want to guess what happened next?
A team of health, construction and fire officials showed up for an unannounced inspection of the preserve, acting on an anonymous tip. Escorted by two sheriffs' deputies, they executed what Mr. Conway describes as a "SWAT-team raid"—peering into outhouses, stomping around log cabins, and climbing hand-hewn ladders.
Their findings are compiled in a 78-page report with a bullet-point list of violations. Mr. Conway's sawdust urinal and outhouses? Unpermitted, according to the officials. The wood he used to erect two dozen buildings? Built with lumber that isn't "grade-marked," meaning it doesn't specify the mill where it was produced.
The open-air kitchen, with its crates of potatoes and stacks of pots? "Not protected from insects and animals," according to the report. "It is, in fact, outdoors."
The county says Mr. Conway must rebuild or tear down his cabins, barn, kitchen, blacksmith shop and sawmill, and create a septic system before hosting any more classes and camps.
"These buildings aren't fit for public use," says Joseph A. Furman, county planning director.
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Give 'Em Some Serious Time, Please
Ten years sounds about right.
Both suspects have been arrested multiple times before. Wilson has been arrested five times over the last 2 1/2 years, according to Mecklenburg County Jail records. This is Davis’ sixth arrest in the past three years and his third arrest since early February.
Give them ten years in prison and they'll both still be young enough to start over upon release. If they're stupid enough to blow that opportunity, might as well make the next stretch 25 years.
Both suspects have been arrested multiple times before. Wilson has been arrested five times over the last 2 1/2 years, according to Mecklenburg County Jail records. This is Davis’ sixth arrest in the past three years and his third arrest since early February.
Give them ten years in prison and they'll both still be young enough to start over upon release. If they're stupid enough to blow that opportunity, might as well make the next stretch 25 years.
What, Never? No, Never!
Well, hardly ever...do Democrats engage in election fraud.
She admitted voting twice in the presidential election last November, and now, Obama supporter Melowese Richardson has been indicted for allegedly voting at least six times. She also is charged with illegal voting in 2008 and 2011.
The 58-year-old veteran Cincinnati poll worker, indicted Monday, faces eight counts of voter fraud. Two others, one of whom is a nun, have been charged separately.
Richardson had admitted on camera to a local TV station, "Yes, I voted twice," claiming she was concerned that her vote would not count. She also said there "was no intent on my part to commit any voter fraud."
"I'll fight it for Mr. Obama and Mr. Obama's right to sit as president of the United States," she proclaimed in the interview.
She admitted voting twice in the presidential election last November, and now, Obama supporter Melowese Richardson has been indicted for allegedly voting at least six times. She also is charged with illegal voting in 2008 and 2011.
The 58-year-old veteran Cincinnati poll worker, indicted Monday, faces eight counts of voter fraud. Two others, one of whom is a nun, have been charged separately.
Richardson had admitted on camera to a local TV station, "Yes, I voted twice," claiming she was concerned that her vote would not count. She also said there "was no intent on my part to commit any voter fraud."
"I'll fight it for Mr. Obama and Mr. Obama's right to sit as president of the United States," she proclaimed in the interview.
Jes' Call Him Br'er Rabbit
"Rock Hill police chase ends in briar patch."
Rock Hill man accused of stealing from BiLo led police on a chase through a briar patch before a police officer stunned him with a Taser and put him in cuffs on Sunday.
Roderick Whitlock, 30, of 195 Porter Road is charged with shoplifting and resisting police, according to a Rock Hill Police report. He’s since been released from jail on a $2,000 bond.
Sometime after 5:30 p.m., police circulated the area of Firetower Road and East Main Street after receiving word that someone stole a beard trimmer and then headed toward a nearby carwash, the report states. A man washing his car told police he saw Roderick run behind the car wash.
That’s when Roderick led police on a chase through the carwash and toward an industrial building. When officers cornered him, Roderick “entered” a briar patch, the report states.
Br'er Rabbit weren't countin' on ol' Br'er Bear havin' a Taser, so bimeby dey drug ol' Br'er rabbit on outen o' de briar patch.
Rock Hill man accused of stealing from BiLo led police on a chase through a briar patch before a police officer stunned him with a Taser and put him in cuffs on Sunday.
Roderick Whitlock, 30, of 195 Porter Road is charged with shoplifting and resisting police, according to a Rock Hill Police report. He’s since been released from jail on a $2,000 bond.
Sometime after 5:30 p.m., police circulated the area of Firetower Road and East Main Street after receiving word that someone stole a beard trimmer and then headed toward a nearby carwash, the report states. A man washing his car told police he saw Roderick run behind the car wash.
That’s when Roderick led police on a chase through the carwash and toward an industrial building. When officers cornered him, Roderick “entered” a briar patch, the report states.
Br'er Rabbit weren't countin' on ol' Br'er Bear havin' a Taser, so bimeby dey drug ol' Br'er rabbit on outen o' de briar patch.
They Killed the Fatted Calf...
...he killed them.
SEATTLE - Authorities are searching the Northwest for a man accused of killing his Seattle-area grandparents, who had just picked him up after his release from a Washington state prison, hosted a party in his honor and offered him a room in their home for the night.
Michael "Chad" Boysen, 26, is considered extremely dangerous and has tried to obtain guns, police said Monday.
He was released from prison Friday after serving several years for robbery. His grandparents _ an 82-year-old man and 80-year-old woman _ picked him up from prison and hosted a family "welcome home party" for him that night, King County Sheriff John Urquhart said.
The grandparents were killed later Friday or early Saturday at their Renton home. Authorities believe Boysen also stole their car.
The return of the prodigal grandson.
SEATTLE - Authorities are searching the Northwest for a man accused of killing his Seattle-area grandparents, who had just picked him up after his release from a Washington state prison, hosted a party in his honor and offered him a room in their home for the night.
Michael "Chad" Boysen, 26, is considered extremely dangerous and has tried to obtain guns, police said Monday.
He was released from prison Friday after serving several years for robbery. His grandparents _ an 82-year-old man and 80-year-old woman _ picked him up from prison and hosted a family "welcome home party" for him that night, King County Sheriff John Urquhart said.
The grandparents were killed later Friday or early Saturday at their Renton home. Authorities believe Boysen also stole their car.
The return of the prodigal grandson.
Monday, March 11, 2013
Hunch?
Or miracle?
If you see something that doesn’t look right, do you act on gut instinct to check it out? Steven Dubois of The Associated Press wrote about two men in Oregon who did:
“As their mother lay dead in the middle of the night, a 4-year-old Oregon girl dragged her seriously injured younger sister from a crashed car and the two huddled under a blanket – and waited.
“With the mangled car stuck deep in the woods, and no skid marks on the highway, the crash site was nearly impossible to detect.
“In fact, authorities estimate the sisters were alone in the frigid woods for several hours early Feb. 20 as many motorists passed it by.
“The children finally got help after two commercial fishermen spotted what appeared from a distance to be a basketball-sized gash in an alder tree along State Highway 401 between Astoria, Ore., and Naselle, Wash. Kraai McClure and Scott Beutler travel the two-lane road frequently, and had a gut feeling something was wrong.
“The men slowed down, discussed the situation and decided to turn around and go take a look. McClure said he called 911 to see if there had been any reports of a wreck.
“Beutler, who was a first responder when he lived in Mississippi, went into the brush and signaled McClure to alert authorities.
“ ‘I don’t know exactly what told us to turn around, but I’m just really thankful we did,’ McClure said Feb. 21.
“The men spotted the wrecked car a few hundred feet from the road. Nearby were the two young girls, scared and confused. “They could say their names but were totally in shock,” McClure said.
Just what is that little voice in your head that causes you to act? Is it simply intelligence guided by experience, as Nero Wolfe used to say to Archie Goodwin,or is it something more?
If you see something that doesn’t look right, do you act on gut instinct to check it out? Steven Dubois of The Associated Press wrote about two men in Oregon who did:
“As their mother lay dead in the middle of the night, a 4-year-old Oregon girl dragged her seriously injured younger sister from a crashed car and the two huddled under a blanket – and waited.
“With the mangled car stuck deep in the woods, and no skid marks on the highway, the crash site was nearly impossible to detect.
“In fact, authorities estimate the sisters were alone in the frigid woods for several hours early Feb. 20 as many motorists passed it by.
“The children finally got help after two commercial fishermen spotted what appeared from a distance to be a basketball-sized gash in an alder tree along State Highway 401 between Astoria, Ore., and Naselle, Wash. Kraai McClure and Scott Beutler travel the two-lane road frequently, and had a gut feeling something was wrong.
“The men slowed down, discussed the situation and decided to turn around and go take a look. McClure said he called 911 to see if there had been any reports of a wreck.
“Beutler, who was a first responder when he lived in Mississippi, went into the brush and signaled McClure to alert authorities.
“ ‘I don’t know exactly what told us to turn around, but I’m just really thankful we did,’ McClure said Feb. 21.
“The men spotted the wrecked car a few hundred feet from the road. Nearby were the two young girls, scared and confused. “They could say their names but were totally in shock,” McClure said.
Just what is that little voice in your head that causes you to act? Is it simply intelligence guided by experience, as Nero Wolfe used to say to Archie Goodwin,or is it something more?
Sunday, March 10, 2013
Hypocrisy, Thy Name Is...
...Mark Kelly.
Mark E. Kelly, gun-control proponent and husband to former Congresswoman Gabby Giffords, recently purchased an AR-15 (an "assault weapon," he called it)—which he now says he intended as an illustration of the need for more stringent gun laws.
Yessir, buying them up one at a time to keep us all safe. Maybe Bill Gates has enough money to do that, I doubt Mark Kelly does.
Pic:
He must have heard about Diane Feinstein's human hunting season. See his Elmer Fudd hunting hat?
Mark E. Kelly, gun-control proponent and husband to former Congresswoman Gabby Giffords, recently purchased an AR-15 (an "assault weapon," he called it)—which he now says he intended as an illustration of the need for more stringent gun laws.
Yessir, buying them up one at a time to keep us all safe. Maybe Bill Gates has enough money to do that, I doubt Mark Kelly does.
Pic:
He must have heard about Diane Feinstein's human hunting season. See his Elmer Fudd hunting hat?
Saturday, March 09, 2013
Smart Binoculars?
Maybe you don't know who you are looking at, but possibly your binoculars do.
What if everyone you're looking at is wearing a Guy Fawkes mask, though?
What if everyone you're looking at is wearing a Guy Fawkes mask, though?
Friday, March 08, 2013
Granddad
Mother's father. Second-generation German immigrant. Born and raised in the Pittsburg, PA area. Served in the US Navy as a yeoman onboard the presidential yacht Mayflower, and after his discharge became a policeman in the Pittsburg suburb Mt. Lebanon. Here he is on his Harley:
I think his service revolver was a Smith & Wesson K-38 with a 6" barrel, but don't hold me to it. Only saw it once; he kept it on a top shelf of his closet. He told me the single-action notch had been filed off, making it a DAO revolver.
He retired to Florida and spent his senior years golfing and bowling. He was known as "Whitey," although his name was Arthur William. Never asked my mom how he got the nickname "Whitey," I guess now I'll never know. He wore a toothbrush mustache all his life; grew it before it became associated with Adolf Hitler, and apparently never felt it necessary to shave it off because of that.
I don't know for sure how much German he spoke; the only bit of the language I ever heard him speak was the old grace before meals:
Gott Sei Dank, für Speis’ und Trank,
für alles Gute das Du, der Herr, bereitet hast. Amen.
(God be thanked, for food and drink,
For all is good that you, oh Lord, have given. Amen.)
He didn't curse much, unless he stubbed his toe or barked his shin, at which point he'd mutter under his breath God-damned son of a sea cook!
He was a good man.
I think his service revolver was a Smith & Wesson K-38 with a 6" barrel, but don't hold me to it. Only saw it once; he kept it on a top shelf of his closet. He told me the single-action notch had been filed off, making it a DAO revolver.
He retired to Florida and spent his senior years golfing and bowling. He was known as "Whitey," although his name was Arthur William. Never asked my mom how he got the nickname "Whitey," I guess now I'll never know. He wore a toothbrush mustache all his life; grew it before it became associated with Adolf Hitler, and apparently never felt it necessary to shave it off because of that.
I don't know for sure how much German he spoke; the only bit of the language I ever heard him speak was the old grace before meals:
Gott Sei Dank, für Speis’ und Trank,
für alles Gute das Du, der Herr, bereitet hast. Amen.
(God be thanked, for food and drink,
For all is good that you, oh Lord, have given. Amen.)
He didn't curse much, unless he stubbed his toe or barked his shin, at which point he'd mutter under his breath God-damned son of a sea cook!
He was a good man.
Thursday, March 07, 2013
Senate Bill Proposed To Degrade Drone Medal
Bipartisan proposal, and supported by veteran's groups.
Under the proposed legislation the medal would rank below the Bronze Star and the Purple Heart.
Under the proposed legislation the medal would rank below the Bronze Star and the Purple Heart.
Alvin Lee, 1950-2013: R.I.P.
68 years old, died of "complications following routine surgery."
Pic:
Here's my favorite Ten Years After song; stupid lyrics, fabulous guitar playing:
Pic:
Here's my favorite Ten Years After song; stupid lyrics, fabulous guitar playing:
Wednesday, March 06, 2013
Depends, Foley Catheter...
...or the Biggest Bladder Ever?
Senator Rand Paul of Kentucky shows how it's done. Tomorrow: Democrats/MSM begin Operation Destroy Rand Paul.
You notice that, in the headline, the Washington Post can't even do Paul the courtesy of naming him?
"Kentucky senator mounts lengthy debate and blocks floor vote on Obama’s nominee to lead CIA."
Petty as hell.
Senator Rand Paul of Kentucky shows how it's done. Tomorrow: Democrats/MSM begin Operation Destroy Rand Paul.
You notice that, in the headline, the Washington Post can't even do Paul the courtesy of naming him?
"Kentucky senator mounts lengthy debate and blocks floor vote on Obama’s nominee to lead CIA."
Petty as hell.
Breezy Out There
Had a cold front come through yesterday/last night, so today we have a high pressure area over the region, with high blue skies and cold wind from the NW. The wind is so strong that it has blown down all the rollout trash bins that were put out for pickup. The wind wasn't strong enough to blow them over full, but now that the garbage truck has made its appointed rounds, the empty bins are much easier for the wind to blow over.
Beautiful day!
Beautiful day!
Tuesday, March 05, 2013
Hugo Chavez In NC
The late Venezuelan president visited Hickory, NC, as the guest of Republican congressman Cass Ballenger:
It was an unlikely friendship: the left-leaning, America-bashing, Latin American strongman and the conservative Republican congressman from North Carolina.
But Hugo Chavez and Cass Ballenger hit it off. So much so that Chavez was the honored guest at a 2001 barbecue at Ballenger’s home in Hickory.
“He was our friend and he was always like the guy next door,” Donna Ballenger recalled Tuesday. “He didn’t do anything but be nice to us.”
Click the link to read the rest. I've heard of stranger friendships: the late Senator Jesse Helms was a friend of the Dalai Lama.
It was an unlikely friendship: the left-leaning, America-bashing, Latin American strongman and the conservative Republican congressman from North Carolina.
But Hugo Chavez and Cass Ballenger hit it off. So much so that Chavez was the honored guest at a 2001 barbecue at Ballenger’s home in Hickory.
“He was our friend and he was always like the guy next door,” Donna Ballenger recalled Tuesday. “He didn’t do anything but be nice to us.”
Click the link to read the rest. I've heard of stranger friendships: the late Senator Jesse Helms was a friend of the Dalai Lama.
Well, There Ya Have It, Boys.
Yes, you can be subject to drone strike as a US citizen on US soil.
Thanks to Senator Rand Paul (R-KY) for forcing an answer from the Obama administration.
Thanks to Senator Rand Paul (R-KY) for forcing an answer from the Obama administration.
Got a Phobia?
Best not go here, then.
I suspect at least one of the photos is a Photoshop. Feel free to guess which one in comments.
I suspect at least one of the photos is a Photoshop. Feel free to guess which one in comments.
Comet Alert
Starting March 7th, you can see Comet Panstarrs:
Starting March 7, PANSTARRS will be visible to enthusiasts in the Northern Hemisphere shortly after sunset in the direction of the disappearing sun. Viewers should try to find an unobstructed, cloudless spot away from city lights and look just above the horizon in the west. A few days later the sun’s glare will make the comet invisible, but it will reappear on March 12 or 13 near the crescent moon (so get your cameras ready!). The object will then be visible through the rest of the month, fading away in April or after.
It's already visible in the Southern Hemisphere. Sample pic:
Starting March 7, PANSTARRS will be visible to enthusiasts in the Northern Hemisphere shortly after sunset in the direction of the disappearing sun. Viewers should try to find an unobstructed, cloudless spot away from city lights and look just above the horizon in the west. A few days later the sun’s glare will make the comet invisible, but it will reappear on March 12 or 13 near the crescent moon (so get your cameras ready!). The object will then be visible through the rest of the month, fading away in April or after.
It's already visible in the Southern Hemisphere. Sample pic:
It's Déjà Vu All Over Again
Hey, didn't this guy get arrested for this very same sort of crime just a couple of years ago?
Why, yes! Yes, he did!
OK, then; operating on the principle of fool me once, shame on you/fool me twice, shame on me, can we keep him in prison for at least five years this time? Preferably ten? Thanks!
Why, yes! Yes, he did!
OK, then; operating on the principle of fool me once, shame on you/fool me twice, shame on me, can we keep him in prison for at least five years this time? Preferably ten? Thanks!
Monday, March 04, 2013
Because They Can*
What is "Why do cops shoot dogs, Alex?"
Takeaway from the article:
"Shipping companies, delivery companies, landscaping companies, they deal with dogs all the time and they don't shoot dogs," said Senator Balmer.
Exactly.
*Which is a variation on a dirty joke about male dogs.
Takeaway from the article:
"Shipping companies, delivery companies, landscaping companies, they deal with dogs all the time and they don't shoot dogs," said Senator Balmer.
Exactly.
*Which is a variation on a dirty joke about male dogs.
Rule Three Violation
Keep Your Paw Off the Trigger Until Your Sights Are On the Target.
Don't think the dog has read Cooper.
Amazing that the gun was in that snowbank all this time and never "went off." Guns do that, you know. Whenever some poor child is killed in a gun accident, it's because the gun "went off." Never any human intervention. It's like these guns have minds of their own.
Don't think the dog has read Cooper.
Amazing that the gun was in that snowbank all this time and never "went off." Guns do that, you know. Whenever some poor child is killed in a gun accident, it's because the gun "went off." Never any human intervention. It's like these guns have minds of their own.
Sunday, March 03, 2013
I Wonder If It Occurred To Him...
...that he could go to Australia and watch whales without giving up the family fortune?
"Napier Marten has given up the Crichel Estate in Dorset and the £115million family fortune to explore alternative therapies and explore his subconscious."
"Napier Marten has given up the Crichel Estate in Dorset and the £115million family fortune to explore alternative therapies and explore his subconscious."
Pandora Errata
Right now Helplessly Hoping from Crosby, Stills & Nash is playing; the lyrics published with the song in the information window, however, are for Helpless by Neil Young.
Would Oliver Twist Ask For More...Horse?
Well, if Oliver was French, perhaps he might say Puis-je avoir plus de chevaux, s'il vous plaît?*
Officials insist that as there is no health risk from the dishes and that their were withdrawn because of mislabelling they can be donated.
Stéphane Le Foll, France's agriculture minister said, however, it was for charities to decide if they wanted the controversial meals.
"From its side the government can only say that as far as health is concerned, it's fine. It's not for me to decide what should be done with it," Le Foll said.
I bet Jean Valjean and his family would be happy to eat some horse.
*translation via Google Translate.
Officials insist that as there is no health risk from the dishes and that their were withdrawn because of mislabelling they can be donated.
Stéphane Le Foll, France's agriculture minister said, however, it was for charities to decide if they wanted the controversial meals.
"From its side the government can only say that as far as health is concerned, it's fine. It's not for me to decide what should be done with it," Le Foll said.
I bet Jean Valjean and his family would be happy to eat some horse.
*translation via Google Translate.
Saturday, March 02, 2013
"The Filth"
As in, What really caused Pope Benedict XVI to resign?
These priests, bishops and cardinals need to be either de-frocked, or if Canon Law doesn't permit that, reassigned to monasteries to live as hermits for the rest of their natural lives, never to be allowed the privilege of ministering to the public ever again. The Church certainly has enough half-empty monasteries to hold all the offenders.
And no more gay priests, IMO. Much of what is called "pedophilia" in regard to the scandals in the church is nothing but old-fashioned pederasty: grown men diddling pubescent male youths. Make homosexuality a disqualifying trait for the priesthood and you'll clean up nearly all of the problem. Sorry if you don't like that, gay men.
These priests, bishops and cardinals need to be either de-frocked, or if Canon Law doesn't permit that, reassigned to monasteries to live as hermits for the rest of their natural lives, never to be allowed the privilege of ministering to the public ever again. The Church certainly has enough half-empty monasteries to hold all the offenders.
And no more gay priests, IMO. Much of what is called "pedophilia" in regard to the scandals in the church is nothing but old-fashioned pederasty: grown men diddling pubescent male youths. Make homosexuality a disqualifying trait for the priesthood and you'll clean up nearly all of the problem. Sorry if you don't like that, gay men.
Arrival
Case Jr. Scout:
This is Case's scaled-down version of the Boy Scout knife pattern. It's actually the same size as the old Cub Scout knife, but packs in 4 miniature-sized tools instead of the Cub Scout's 3 full-sized tools. It's actually a little less sturdy than the Cub Scout; slimmer, less weight. It's almost a pen knife with pretensions of grandeur. For the details, it features stainless blades/tools, blaze orange G-10 handle scales, brass pins and nickel silver bolsters. It also has a bail for clipping on a key ring, adding a lanyard, or wearing on a belt with one of the old-fashioned belt clips.
The main blade, which in the full-sized Boy Scout knife is a spear pattern, here is an oversized pen blade. Case is shipping these razor-sharp these days, so be wary when opening and closing it. Fit and finish is excellent. The bail, rather than being riveted on as with the old Boy Scout knives, here is simply squeezed into a pierced rivet that goes all the way through the bolster. Not sure if that's an improvement or not.
Case introduced these about 10 years ago, and prices them like they're made out of solid gold. The MSRP on these is $120, and I've rarely seen them for less than $80. Waaaaay overpriced. This one was on sale at Shepherd Hills Cutlery for $49.99. Still overpriced, but not exorbitantly so.
Frankly this knife fits in the same niche as the Swiss Army knife, and does so while being of lower overall quality and much higher price. Sort of a metaphor for current US manufacturing standards, isn't it?
This is Case's scaled-down version of the Boy Scout knife pattern. It's actually the same size as the old Cub Scout knife, but packs in 4 miniature-sized tools instead of the Cub Scout's 3 full-sized tools. It's actually a little less sturdy than the Cub Scout; slimmer, less weight. It's almost a pen knife with pretensions of grandeur. For the details, it features stainless blades/tools, blaze orange G-10 handle scales, brass pins and nickel silver bolsters. It also has a bail for clipping on a key ring, adding a lanyard, or wearing on a belt with one of the old-fashioned belt clips.
The main blade, which in the full-sized Boy Scout knife is a spear pattern, here is an oversized pen blade. Case is shipping these razor-sharp these days, so be wary when opening and closing it. Fit and finish is excellent. The bail, rather than being riveted on as with the old Boy Scout knives, here is simply squeezed into a pierced rivet that goes all the way through the bolster. Not sure if that's an improvement or not.
Case introduced these about 10 years ago, and prices them like they're made out of solid gold. The MSRP on these is $120, and I've rarely seen them for less than $80. Waaaaay overpriced. This one was on sale at Shepherd Hills Cutlery for $49.99. Still overpriced, but not exorbitantly so.
Frankly this knife fits in the same niche as the Swiss Army knife, and does so while being of lower overall quality and much higher price. Sort of a metaphor for current US manufacturing standards, isn't it?
Yer Poetic Satire of the Day
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a sequester.
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a sequester.
It'll Make a Good Cookbook, Post-Sequester
Story.
The English cannibalism enthusiast claimed in sick exchanges with Valle, 28, last summer that he had previously eaten a white boy aged five and a black woman - and in a grotesque British twist advised using the fat from female breasts to make Yorkshire puddings and roast potatoes.
The emailer also had a recipe for 'human haggis' using the lungs and stomach.
The emailer also suggested using the bones for stock, and added: 'Cut off their t*** and slow roast. That way you'll got lots of girl fat. Great for roasting potatoes and Yorkshire pudding.'
Moody Blues also said: 'The meat isn't quite like pork, but very "meaty" ... I've eaten a black woman and a white person.'
The English cannibalism enthusiast claimed in sick exchanges with Valle, 28, last summer that he had previously eaten a white boy aged five and a black woman - and in a grotesque British twist advised using the fat from female breasts to make Yorkshire puddings and roast potatoes.
The emailer also had a recipe for 'human haggis' using the lungs and stomach.
The emailer also suggested using the bones for stock, and added: 'Cut off their t*** and slow roast. That way you'll got lots of girl fat. Great for roasting potatoes and Yorkshire pudding.'
Moody Blues also said: 'The meat isn't quite like pork, but very "meaty" ... I've eaten a black woman and a white person.'
First Task of the Day: Banish the Earworm!
In this case, every Irishman's favorite, Star of County Down.
*turns on Pandora*
Ah. Adew, Sweet Amarillis, a madrigal by John Wilbye.
That's better.
*turns on Pandora*
Ah. Adew, Sweet Amarillis, a madrigal by John Wilbye.
That's better.
Friday, March 01, 2013
The Definitive Barack Obama Quote
"I am not a dictator."
When the man wanders off the TelePrompTer reservation it gets ugly fast, don't it?
Note to politicians of all stripes: If you start a declarative sentence with the words "I am not a.." there are few words you can add that will make you look like anything other than a fool or a knave.
When the man wanders off the TelePrompTer reservation it gets ugly fast, don't it?
Note to politicians of all stripes: If you start a declarative sentence with the words "I am not a.." there are few words you can add that will make you look like anything other than a fool or a knave.
Bad News For a Milblogger
John Lilea of This Ain't Hell But You Can See It From Here has been diagnosed with Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis (ALS), also known as Lou Gehrig's Disease.
I have amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS) more commonly known as Lou Gehrig’s Disease. It is a neurodegenerative disease of unknown cause that breaks down tissues in the nervous system and affects the nerves responsible for movement. Well, I say I “have” the disease, but there’s no real test to prove that’s what it is – the doctors have to eliminate everything else in order to arrive at that diagnosis.
The good news is that I’m still around – many people die from it in less than two years after the symptoms start appearing. So far, it’s only affected my feet and lower legs. Today, the doctors at the West Virginia ALS clinic tested my ability to breath (how most people die when the respiratory system doesn’t talk to the brain) is higher than they expected. The doctor said she’s going to put the test results on her fridge.
Luckily, my real job doesn’t require more than sitting at a computer, like this one, so as long as my hands work, I’m good. My hands show no signs of not working. I do have a problem doing math in my head and my vocabulary is slowly contracting, but there are computers for that I hear.
Hope you'll send prayers out to John.
I have amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS) more commonly known as Lou Gehrig’s Disease. It is a neurodegenerative disease of unknown cause that breaks down tissues in the nervous system and affects the nerves responsible for movement. Well, I say I “have” the disease, but there’s no real test to prove that’s what it is – the doctors have to eliminate everything else in order to arrive at that diagnosis.
The good news is that I’m still around – many people die from it in less than two years after the symptoms start appearing. So far, it’s only affected my feet and lower legs. Today, the doctors at the West Virginia ALS clinic tested my ability to breath (how most people die when the respiratory system doesn’t talk to the brain) is higher than they expected. The doctor said she’s going to put the test results on her fridge.
Luckily, my real job doesn’t require more than sitting at a computer, like this one, so as long as my hands work, I’m good. My hands show no signs of not working. I do have a problem doing math in my head and my vocabulary is slowly contracting, but there are computers for that I hear.
Hope you'll send prayers out to John.
Once Is Happenstance, Twice Might Be Coincidence...
...the third time is enemy action.*
The first two instances are listed at the link above; the third is here.
I don't see how you can explain this as anything other than an attempt by liberal newspapers to demonize and intimidate law-abiding gun owners by treating them in the same way that sex offenders are treated, publishing personal data that is normally kept private. While this tactic might work in a large metropolitan area with a large population of liberals to support the newspaper's crusade, in small rural towns without liberal support gun owners can effectively shut crusading papers down with subscription cancellations and advertising boycotts, as was seen here in the North Carolina and Arkansas examples.
I'm starting to think that the newspapers are trying to provoke gun owners into doing something rash, such as shooting up a newspaper office, or the home of an editor or reporter. The journalists involved can then jump up on their soapbox and say see, we told you they were violent and need to be repressed!
*Quote: Auric Goldfinger.
update:Fixed incorrect link. Thanks to Borepatch for pointing out the error.
The first two instances are listed at the link above; the third is here.
I don't see how you can explain this as anything other than an attempt by liberal newspapers to demonize and intimidate law-abiding gun owners by treating them in the same way that sex offenders are treated, publishing personal data that is normally kept private. While this tactic might work in a large metropolitan area with a large population of liberals to support the newspaper's crusade, in small rural towns without liberal support gun owners can effectively shut crusading papers down with subscription cancellations and advertising boycotts, as was seen here in the North Carolina and Arkansas examples.
I'm starting to think that the newspapers are trying to provoke gun owners into doing something rash, such as shooting up a newspaper office, or the home of an editor or reporter. The journalists involved can then jump up on their soapbox and say see, we told you they were violent and need to be repressed!
*Quote: Auric Goldfinger.
update:Fixed incorrect link. Thanks to Borepatch for pointing out the error.
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