All in the Family featured the curmudgeonly Archie Bunker. Archie was television’s most famous grouch, blunt, blustering, straightforward and untouched by the PC crowd. He was the archetype of the conservative male. Michael desprately tried to reeducate him, but he persisted in his breviloquence.
Looking back at the last 40 years, we realize: ARCHIE WAS RIGHT!
I'm still involved with the running of things at church. I still serve in various activities, but I have cut back on how much I do. However I do still take the time to look into new things that come along that might prove helpful. I was checking out stuff for our teens and I stumbled across a book written by two brothers. Alex and Bret Harris wrote Do Hard Things as teenagers.
The basic premise is that kids have life too easy, they do to little and they need to suck it up and start doing something worthwhile. In their words; teenagers need to start doing hard things. As a kid growing up my father used to say basically the same sort of thing to me. The difference here is that its not a grown up on a soap box gripping about "kids these days". The book was written to kids by kids. As an adult I found the book a tad on the simplistic side. Life, after all has many more ups and downs than a couple of home schooled boys form a upper middle class background have experienced. These kids have yet to experience the "kick in the gut" moments that leave you gasping for breath and questioning if you have the testicular fortitude to get out of bed and face it again.
That is where I am wrong.
I'm a grown man with my own kids. I have grown man concerns. I prepare to face a grown up world that I know about because I've been on the receiving end of grown up heartache and frustration. This book was written by kids to motivate kids. Kids don't see life the same as adults, because they aren't adults. The point of Do Hard Things is that they will be adults and they need to get ready for it, by doing more, taking on tougher stuff, setting higher goals, not listening to the adolescence until your 30 culture and doing hard things.
I'd loan you my copy of the book, but its getting passed around our town right now. Get your own copy, they can be had for less than $10. Read it if you want, just be sure to get it in the hands of a kid. You never know they just might join The Rebelution and that would be a good thing.
A special thanks to those of you who dropped by to say Merry Christmas. Thank you.
Politically Correct 12 Days of Christmas
On the 12th day of the Eurocentrically imposed midwinter festival, my significant other in a consenting adult, monogamous relationship gave to me:
TWELVE males reclaiming their inner warrior through ritual drumming,
ELEVEN pipers piping (plus the 18-member pit orchestra made up of members in good standing of the Musicians Equity Union as called for in their union contract even though they will
not be asked to play a note),
TEN melanin-deprived testosterone-poisoned scions of the patriarchal ruling class system leaping,
NINE persons engaged in rhythmic self-expression,
EIGHT economically disadvantaged female persons stealing milk-products from enslaved Bovine-Americans,
SEVEN endangered swans swimming on federally protected wetlands,
SIX enslaved Fowl-Americans producing stolen non-human animal products,
FIVE golden symbols of culturally sanctioned enforced domestic incarceration,
(NOTE: after members of the Animal Liberation Front
threatened to throw red paint at my computer, the calling birds, French hens, and partridge have been reintroduced to their native habitat. To avoid further Animal-American enslavement, the remaining gift package has been revised.)
FOUR hours of recorded whale songs,
THREE deconstructionist poets,
TWO Sierra Club calendars printed on recycled processed tree carcasses, and
ONE Spotted Owl activist chained to an old-growth pear tree.
Oh, heck! Happy Holidays!!!! (unless otherwise prohibited by law)
Unless, of course, you are suffering from Seasonally Affected Disorder (SAD). If this be the case, please substitute this gratuitous call for celebration with a suggestion that you have a thoroughly adequate day.
Profits are down, sales are down, and the workload is slow. Our prices are competitive, so I'm not sure what's wrong. What I'd like to do is boost our sales. Unfortunately I know nothing about sales! So I've decided to cut operating costs, which will force me to squeeze maximum productivity out of the few employees who remain. But that's not as easy as it sounds! In fact, it's become a rather depressing game of "divide and conquer"!
I began by drawing out a big chart. I wrote down everyone's name and drew lines connecting who was friends with who, who takes lunches together, and who chats around the coffeemaker. I put a red mark by anyone who I think may have been part of last year's failed unionizing effort. I also made notes on the chart about popularity, niceness, and physical attractiveness.
Then I started managing people out of their jobs. I wrote folks up for every single 30-second tardy. I documented every website they visited that wasn't work-related. I monitored their calls, and rummaged through their desks. I even sent a few people in for "random" drug tests. After only three weeks I'd fired one person out of every identified friendship in the building.
The best part was how I avoided an ugly, newsworthy mass-layoff situation. Instead I spread all the firings out over a month of Fridays. This not only helped our company avoid embarrassment, (as well as expensive severence packages) but it also helped develop a sense of self-preservation and paranoia among my remaining staff. Of course everyone is depressed and worried, and I'm the only one who knows that the firing spree is over!
Link to her blog. Warning: the rest of her blog is equally classy.
Excerpts from the 911 tape.
"Do you have a gun"
"You have to protect yourself"
"Dear God Please hurry"
"I don't want to kill him"
"I will kill him...graveyard dead, ma'am
Hear it for yourself.
At the end of the tape you hear Mrs. Jackson praying for forgiveness after killing her assailant. Some observations:
1. The 911 dispatcher told Mrs. Jackson that it was OK to defend her property and herself. GOOD JOB!
2. The 911 dispatcher told Mrs. Jackson that it was OK after she killed Billy Dean Riley and that she had to do it. Again GOOD JOB!
3. Apparently the cops refused to arrest Mrs. Jackson. GOOD JOB!
4. The prosecutor has said that this incident must be investigated as a murder. However, he is declining to press any charges against Mrs. Jackson. GOOD JOB!
5. Mrs. Jackson's parents raised a women who remembers to say ma'am and be proper on the phone even when someone is trying to kill her and who prays in the midst of battle. GOOD JOB and God Bless the South!
6. Mrs. Jackson did what she had to do. I am tremendously sorry she had to go through this. I cannot bring myself to honor a killing no matter how justified with a "good job". I am very grateful that we still have Donna Jackson with us and that this encounter turned out as it did. I can't see Mrs. Jackson accepting a "good job" from me. No doubt she would have been much happier with being left alone.
7. Oklahoma's "Make My Day Law" seems to be working as it should. Good Job!
It will take you all of 5 min to find Mrs. Donna Jackson of Stroud OK address if you want to send her a card.
What are you using to teach:
I'm especially interested in Etiquette and mathematics as I think I have a reading program. I'd really like to hear from those of you who have had success in higher level mathematics calculus and above.
There are two ways to make this. You can melt dark chocolate in a double boiler and stir it into the cream, or you can take the chunks of chocolate and place them in the dish before baking.
8 egg yolks
3 1/2 cups heavy cream
1/2 cup Irish Cream (you can use Baileys but the cheaper brands are just as good)
1/2 cup sugar
2 tsp vanilla
Preheat oven to 300.
Separate egg yolks and beat them. Add vanilla to egg yolks, set aside.
Simmer cream sugar and Irish cream until the mixture is bubbly around the edges. Stir the entire time. Do not let it boil or burn. This takes between 3 to 5 min.
Pour cream mixture into eggs, slowly. Incorporate cream and eggs with a whip by hand, do not make scrambled eggs. The method is similar to making a traditional hollandaise by hand. The mixture should be smooth and creamy looking and slightly yellow or orange from the yolks. Do not over beat it or introduce air bubbles. Pour the cream mixture into ramekin dishes and place them into a bath and bake at 300 degrees for 40 to 45 min. You are looking for the custard to set and not be liquidy looking but slightly firm. At my elevation it takes about 50 min, so set a timer and check it at 40 min.
Chill in fridge until cold. Cover the top with a thin coating of sugar and caramelize with a blow torch, just prior to serving.
Creme Brulee is very versatile. You can experiment with tons of flavors. Here are the basic rules:
1. For every cup of liquid (cream) you need 2 egg yolks. ie 4 cups of cream = 8 eggs.
2. When you use a liqueur it can be up to 25% of the cream mixture, although I try to stick to less than that. See the above recipe, 1/2 a cup was plenty Irish cream. You're trying to create flavor not a DUI. If you use a strong liqueur like a kirsch/rum/bourbon/whiskey/brandy you need to cut the booze way back to maybe a shot.
3. Fruit is the most popular way to flavor a creme brulee. Follow the same 25% rule. The generally puree of fruit can be 25% of the cream mixture.
4. When making some forms of creme brulee, you simply "brew" the flavoring agent in the cream while it cooks. Vanilla beens in the pod are an example. Orange and lemon peel is another. I've seen it done with herbs as well.
5. If you need to make a larger batch, just keep the sugar proportional.
Experiment and have fun. If you think something might work as a recipe google it. I just did and it took me less than 5 min to find over 100 different flavors and their recipes. I'm serious about that caveat on not over doing the booze. I once made a cherry kirsch cheesecake that had a nice "burn" going down. I think we served that when we had one of the elders and his wife over for dinner. Avoid embarrassment and wrecking food, take it easy on the application of liqueur, it doesn't always come out when you cook it.
Some creme burlee you might want to try:
Rum Raisin (rehydrate the raisins in rum and pat dry)
Anise (see rule #4)
Ginger (Surprisingly popular, use crystallized ginger)
Those are just a few of the ones I've done this last year. Knock yourself out.
I went for a visit yesterday. Mine was a goodwill and get out of the house mission. I needed to get out of the house. They needed a three course meal. My roast duck with pomegranate sauce and Irish Cream and dark chocolate creme brulee were a hit. I've noticed that you can be a welcome dinner guest; any night you want, at almost anyone's house, if you bring the appetizer, entree and desert.
While he is setting in his chair doing next to nothing, a book writing project is in the works. He wants to fictionalize his memoirs in a series of books and see if he can sell them. Most people need to fictionalize their memoirs in an effort to make them interesting enough to read. These stories are interesting enough on their own. They have to be fictionalized for other reasons. The suggestion or rather hint was made that I might be of use in this project. We talked it over some. The project intrigues me.
Anyone who knows anything about PC's that would care to give advice, I'm all ears.
I'm running an XP with MS Office programs. Its an HP. What is happening is that every time I turn the computer on, it says I am the victim of software counterfeiting and that my system does not pass genuine windows verification. None of my programs can talk to each other. If I click a link in an email it won't open up. I can no longer send emails but I still receive them. I can no longer access Internet Explorer. I normally use Fire Fox, but I have a client that requires me to access their system with IE. When I use FireFox I can't access PDF files. The list goes on.
My email is down. I don't know why. I can get emails I just can't send them. I will need to get you pics of the 6.5x47. I’ll try to send all the pics at the same time. This post is to answer your question.
Accuracy in your 223:
I’m assuming you are using factory mil spec ammo. If this isn’t the case, there are a number of hand loading technique issues that we can talk about. 1in at 100 is what you would expect from most guns with factory ammo. Since that is what it was doing before, we’ll go with that being the standard level of accuracy for this gun. There are some things you can do that improve beach performance etc. but you were already having reasonable success and it seems the accuracy problem is a recent development.
Cleaning out the copper fouling will change the point of impact of most guns, but it should not change your group size by much. Normally it will decrease not increase the group. Normally what you did might change the point of impact at 100 yards by ½ to maybe 1and ½ inches from what it was before. If you had the gun printing groups right dead on the bull, it might shift that group slightly. It should not open your group up by 14 inches. Something else is wrong.
You already mentioned that your scope may be damaged. I agree this is a very real possibility. If the crosshairs are moving, it would account for the group size you now have. This could be caused by the scope not being on the gun securely or by the scope being damaged.
You may have damaged the barrel or its crown somehow.
Your gunstock is not securely attached to the action, or you have inadvertently screwed up the bedding making the barrel shift from one shot to the next.
I had a Savage, still have it, it’s for sale BTW in 300 WSM, that had this problem. Sometimes the factory does a poor job with the torque of the barrel when they screw it into the action. What happens is over time (sometimes it is a very short amount of time) the barrel begins to work lose. This causes the group to open up. The factory repaired it for me at no cost. All that has to be done is to have the barrel reset and torqued down properly.
Me 2 Antelope 0
I shot one buck, pictured above and one doe. I didn't get any pictures of the doe. Yardage for the buck 279, doe 241. Bullet Hornady sst 154 grain. Gun: my 7-08. Scope Mark IV. I cropped myself out of the pic because the scope is customized and I'm wearing the makers hat. A series of pics has been sent to him for advertising. If he uses any, they can't be published anyplace else if I want to get paid. Which I do. I need to start having my hobbies be somewhat sponsored by somebody else. This would have been a fine buck if he hadn't tore up that horn in the rut. If he would have kept a symmetrical set of horns with those nice cutters and curlers I might have shelled out the cash for a head mount.
Elk season was a bust. It ended today. I still have a deer tag and might go and try for a doe.
Today I live in the last semifree state of the lower 48. I love it here. I love our church. I like the town. I have lots of friends. One of the best gun makers in the world is 15min south of me. He works on my stuff for cheap. I have 1,000 yard shooting ranges. I have a 3,000 yard range as well, but I don't have that kind of firepower, yet. Some great whitewater rafting is just a few hours south. If I feel the need to spank my kids in public, no one is going to call the cops. If they did, it wouldn't be a problem since the cops wouldn't interfere with legitimate punishment. You can home school if you choose. College is cheap. It has everything I need to be happy. Except my wife isn't as happy as she would be if she were closer to her folks. My job situation has been sucky as well.
The dilemma? I have a chance to reapply to a job 1,300 miles to the east of here. Its the kind of job that I would be good at and I would probably enjoy doing it, and my guess is that it pays close to if not over six figures. We would have to move. This would be a plus for the wife and misery for me. Should I give it a go or no?
My recipe for duck stock. (Ok its just one of them but it is a favorite). This stock will add flavor to any poultry dish and is an excellent base for soups. The most requested and largest selling soup I make from this stock is (believe it or not) my baked potato soup. It works very well with rice soups and coq au vin as well.
The bones/backs/skin of 6 to 8 ducks apx 4 lbs worth
4 gal of water
4 to 5 cups mirepoix (concasser) 2:1:1
4 to 5 cups mirepoix (brunoise) 2:1:1
1/4 cup smoked sea salt (apple or cherry wood is best)
1/4 cup black pepper (whole pepper corns)
1 lb unsalted butter
1 cup dry white wine (try a Gewürztraminer for something different)
2 cups dry red wine (1/2 standard bottle)
1 cup garlic (whole cloves)
6 to 8 bay leafs
In a large roasting pan or on a sheet tray dégorger duck bones with the salt, retain all juices. Sprinkle the concasser mirepoix, black pepper, garlic cloves, any remaining sea salt. Bake in a 225 degree oven for apx 1&1/2 hrs or until the duck bones, skin etc is nice and crispy and brown. Do not over bake.
Put the water, bayleaf and red wine in a large stock pot. Bring up to a simmer, DO NOT BOIL. Just get the water nice and slightly steamy. It should NEVER get any hotter than this, EVER.
In a large saute pan, melt butter (or use clarified if you have it on hand), saute the brunoise mirepoix until the onion is completely see through (it can even brown slightly), deglaze with the white wine. Add to stock pot.
Take the roasted duck bones/mirepoix/garlic/pepper corns and ALL the jus, fat etc and add it to the stock pot. Drink all of the leftover white wine, you deserve it, you're all most done. Let the stock pot simmer until the liquid reduces by 75%. This may take between 6 to 8 hrs.
Strain the liquid and remove all bones, meat, vegetable and spices.
The remaining product is a very nice duck stock. Use it for sauce, demiglaze (I make a morel demi that will blow you away), soup base, etc; or if you're Susan (aka The Culinary Cretin) you can soak bread crumbs in it and shove them up a turkey arse and bake at 325 for 3 hrs. Actually it would be some excellent stuffing. I just can't bring myself to invest a day making stock for something I slip to the dog when we're sick of eating it 3 days latter.
Key things to remember:
1. Duck fat and butter taste really really really good, get and keep all the fats in the stock that you can.
2. Meats cooked from room temperature have better flavor and taste better. The same with extracting flavor from bones
3. Boiling kills the flavor in au jus de canard and makes lots of little pastie crap that floats in the stock. Don't get in a hurry and turn up the heat.
Variations on the recipe:
1. Don't use any of the wines
2. Skip one but not both of the mirepoix steps. If you skip one, skip the sauted mirepoix, not the roasted,
3. I make my own smoked salts, you can use regular sea salt. I find a course ground salt is best. DO NOT bother with iodized salt.
4. You can (I don't know why you would though) skip the roasting stage and just boil the duck.
5. You can use 1 whole duck instead of the bones of several (seems like a waste of good duck meat).
6. Add tomato paste to the stock pot.
7. Add tamari (do this to the finished stock, not during cooking).
8. Drizzle olive oil over the duck and mirepoix prior to roasting. This works well.
I have made my baked potato soup using this stock and had a somewhat hefty 40ish year old woman from Wisconsin offer to make love to me if I would give her the recipe. Resist temptation (as I did) there are plenty of 25ish to 35ish women from Wisconsin who are slightly less hefty who will make the same deal if you are strong and hold out for a better offer. I realize that if you are female that deflowering prime (as in beef) examples of upper Midwestern womanhood may not have the same attraction for you as it would for a man; none the less, with great power (stock) comes great responsibility.
If this sounds involved, my veal stock takes a minimum of 80 hrs. The sauces I make from that take about 2 hrs after I make the stock. Imagine spending $150 just to buy the bones to roast to make less than 3 gallons of stock. From this I make a Bordeaux style bordelaise and a wild mushroom soup, that are slightly above average, at least that is the impression I get from the purred ahs and ohs I hear when people eat them. I don't cook like this too often, but when I do, I enjoy doing it.
I hope you are aware of how blessed you have been this last year and are truly grateful for it. Our family celebrated Wednesday. I have to put in a full day of work on Thursday. Although I wish I had the day off, I'm thankful I have a job. I'm also thankful that the 13 hrs I'm working is all double time. It almost makes up for working on a holiday.
I spent a little time reflecting today on the fact that many of the things that irritate me are in fact the result of being blessed.
Problem: Kids are sick. Blessing: I have kids that normally are healthy.
Problem: Might lose my current job. Blessing: I have a job.
Problem: Couldn't fit all the leftovers in the fridge. Blessing: Lots of food.
Problem: Truck is getting old and falling apart. Blessing: I have a truck.
Problem: Spent 2 hrs in line to buy chicken stock. Blessing: I live in a country where everyone has access to stores.
I hope you find time to think through some of your blessings. Sometimes they aren't apparent or we forget. While we are on the topic of holidays, let me be among the first to wish you a Merry Christmas.
Back in the day, the internet was the domain of the geeks. Fortunately for me I was friends with a couple of nerds. They got me interested in computers and I got my hands on a 80386. While I went the 386 route (like most of the world), everyone who "knew" anything about computers would tell you that apple was better. I don't even pretend to know the difference and I haven't cared to figure it out but the geeks said it, so it must be true. Apple is better. But now they won't fix your computer if you do things they disprove of, like smoking. I couldn't believe this story. If your computers sell a distance second to those running Microsoft you might not want to give people yet another reason to avoid buying them.
Pfizer plans to close its research and development headquarters in New London, Connecticut and move the 14-hundred jobs across the river to Groton. Some say the loss of Pfizer makes the city's eminent domain seizure of private homes adjacent to the headquarters four years ago a gross failure. They say it was done to satisfy the drug maker and now that Pfizer is leaving, the losers in this are the city and the former homeowners who argued their case all the way to the US Supreme Court.
Too bad you lost your home because a big drug company wanted the lot. Now Pfizer doesn't want it either. So sad. They aren't even going to keep the jobs in town, they are moving across the river. Click the link. The city is still talking up what a great decision it was, even though no one is seeing a benefit and millions have been spent. Because, you know, the government is never wrong.
"Freedom is not free, but the U.S. Marine Corps will pay most of your share."
For those of you who served us in the military, THANK YOU. I remember you and salute you. I am grateful that you gave up a period of time in your life to ensure that mine would be peaceful. Freedom isn't free and the price is paid by a few for the benefit of many.
YOU JUST MIGHT BE A BLUENECK IF...
- Instead of referring to two or more people as "Y'all," you call them "you guys," even if both of them are women.
- You think barbecue is a verb meaning "to cook outside."
- You think Heinz Ketchup is REALLY SPICY.
- You would never stop to buy something somebody was cooking on the side of the road.
- You don't have any problems pronouncing "Worcestershire sauce" correctly.
- You don't know what a moon pie is.
- You've never had an RC Cola.
- You've never, ever eaten okra -- fried, boiled, or pickled.
- You eat fried chicken with a knife and fork.
- You've never seen a live chicken, and the only cows you've seen are on road trips.
- You have no idea what a polecat is.
- You don't see anything wrong with putting a sweater on your dog.
- You don't have bangs.
- You would rather have your son become a lawyer than grow up to get his own TV fishing show.
- You've never eaten and don't know how to make a tomato sandwich.
- You think more money should go to important scientific research at your university than to pay the salary of the head football coach.
- You don't even have one can of WD-40 somewhere around the house.
- You don't have any hats in your closet that advertise feed stores.
- You don't know anyone with at least two first names (i.e., Joe Bob, Faye Ellen, Billy Ray, Mary Jo, Bubba Dean, Joe Dan, Mary Alice)
- You don't know any women with male names (i.e., Tommie, Bobbie, Johnnie, Jimmie)
- None of your fur coats are homemade.
Right now I have 3 antelope hanging in the garage awaiting my attention. I took two of them with my new rifle and a buddy shot the 3rd with his hand gun. If/when he emails me the pictures he took of my buck, I'll post them. The shots were not great accomplishments in terms of distance. My doe was taken in the mid 240 yard range and the buck in the low 270's. Both were one shot kills and very clean, so my gun and ammo did their jobs. I'm still not satisfied with the performance from the bench so I'll work on a better load when I get more time. My buck would have had a better set of horns if he hadn't tore them up during the rut. Back to work on Monday with elk hunting planned for my days off.
How I was supposed to "help Out" and die at the same time is something only she understands. Between episodes of gastric distress and losing consciousness, I managed to change a poopy diaper. As all parents know, anytime a man changes a diaper it is worth 10 times the good parent points as when the women changes the same kids diaper. A man changing a poopy is worth approximately 1 years worth points compared to a women preforming the same task. A man doing anything parenting related (except preparing his will) while sick is worth at least 500 times the points that his wife would get, unless of course she is confined to a wheelchair and undergoing chemo, in which case the points ratio becomes about 3 to 1, the 3 going to the man in his favor. After yesterday, I have accumulated enough good parent points that neither I or any of my male offspring won't have to change another diaper until April 22, 2312.
Everyone seems to be recovering, thanks to our NP who makes house calls and takes our kids in the eveing so mom and dad could lay around the house and be sick with out passing it back on to the kids. The thrid day of elk season (today) saw me get in my truck and head off to put 13 hrs in at work. Hopefully I will get out on my next days off.
Last night Res Jr. started throwing up at church. We came home and I stayed up with him through most of the night. He seems to be doing better, now.
Having sick kids sucks, not because I missed some hunting, they don't understand what is happening to them. "All done daddy, all done" is a sad cry to hear when you know that what it means is; "I want this to be all done". As an adult you know better, you know the kid is just starting another round and he is far from "all done".
A thought on men and women being "equal" occurred to me in the wee hours this morning. Daddy can hold your head over the bucket and clean you up just as well as mommy. Mommy can tell you how great getting to sleep on the floor with daddy is. Mommy really wants daddy to be as good as her, because there is another little one that needs her attention as well. Little kids know "equality" is crap. They know mommy will make "it" better, no matter what "it" is.
Daddies are fine, in their place. Need a good pillow fight? Daddy! Tickle monster? Daddy! Ride the horse? Daddy! Go ride truck, look at animals, make turkey sound, catch fish? Daddy! Snow ball fight? Daddy! Tummy sick? Daddy, go get mommy.
Why is it this way? Mommy is better. Somehow in some unknown to all but them way, mommy is better. Daddy can hold your head and wipe your face but its not the same. When mommy does it, its just better. Her voice is softer, her touch more tender, her presence just makes it better. Daddy is good, mommy is better.
I've had the job in the boardroom. I've worked and made decisions in the financial world. None of that impressed my son last night. He wanted mommy. His mommy could make it better in a way daddy could not. I can't understand why someone would want to give up that special place in the hart of a child for a job, any job. I know I would have traded a great deal last night to be able to make it "all done" and "better" so my wife could have a couple extra hours of sleep. Instead she ended up taking over halfway through the night, and I ended up stiff and sore from sleeping on the floor. This morning, it was me, not her still in bed trying to grab a little more sleep when the kido's were up and at it again. Mommies are better, but at least the daddy gets to do more fun stuff.
Santa, AKA the UPS man just showed up with a bit of cheer. This year I've been very very good. I received one of these. So just how did Santa, who has spent most of his blogging time by griping about work/lack of, afford anything made by Swarovski? It's the Obama Economic Stimulus. Ever since the KWWK (Kenyan Who Would be King) took over, the value of some of the contents of my gun safe have gone up as much as 500%. To bad he didn't do the same for my stock holdings. Anyway I was able to get rid of an evil, not to mention BATF traceable back to me AK-47, and pick up a cool new optic. So thank you Mr. KWWK otherwise a cheep $200 kids toy, that has difficulty engaging targets over 250 yards would still only be a $200 curiosity collecting dust.
In case you are wondering, yes it works as good as advertised. The ranch behind me is 1,249 yards. The wellhead is 512 yards, the neighbors dog that wakes me up with its barking is 89 yards. More important elk season is just 2 days away.
The way the new job works is I work 13 hrs a day with a 1hr 15min commute each way. Back when I lived in the big city, a drive of that size meant I was going about 20 miles. I would typically see about 14 MC Donald's, 3 dozen liqueur stores, about 10,000 other drivers, a few porn shops and that was the nice neighborhoods. Wyoming by comparison doesn't have 14 MC Donald's in the entire state. That is a dramatic plus in my book. I do have a couple of good sized ranches I pass, a bunch of horses, cows, deer and antelope. There are about 2,300 buffalo that roam just north of my employer and they sometimes make it near enough the road to see. All in all, I'd rather work at a dead end contractor job in a coalmine than live anyplace else. Perhaps one day, meaningful work and living here will both be part of my life. Until that time, I may not live well, but I am living free.
Here is a link to the report it self.
I have several thoughts on the report, none of them favorable.
1.) One technique of government is to produce a series of reports to make it look like a situation warrants more attention than it is getting. Once a significant amount of written material is produced the next step is to establish a team to investigate the viability of a situation requiring some form of action. That team/task force then "researches" the body of knowledge on the subject. Normally this means they read the previously mentioned government reports.
If your following this: gov bureaucrat "A" has an agenda and writes a report, which stimulates gov bureaucrat "B" to write a report with an agenda, and so on. This process goes on for a bit till they have a pile of reports on a topic. Then they hand pic a group to "research" the material and make recommendations. Of course those recommendations will mirror the wishes of the bureaucrat group think that produced the reports and selected the "researchers". The next logical step being making the recommendations official government policy.
2.) I suspect that the next step will be to implement some form of policy that will be aimed at limiting the rights of those in the groups mentioned in the reports. Such as:
A.) reducing free speech rights for churches, or others who do not support Obama
B.) reducing access or requiring registration of firearms.
C.) limiting any material support
D.) marginalizing the views of the targeted groups in the media in an effort to direct public opinion.
Some may argue that all four points under #2 above are or have been in progress for some time. I won't dispute anyone who sees things from that point of view. The point I would make is that none of these tactics are legitimate functions of our constitutional government.
For the sake of argument lets assume that there are in fact some members of the targeted groups who are going to engage in unprovoked acts of violence against someone for ideological reasons. For example Janet Reno et al in Ruby Ridge or Waco. The proper role of government is to arrest the criminals and take them to court to stand trial for their offenses. This is a far different course of action than generalizing 50% or more of the American public as "potential terrorists".
I think Obma is suffering from a case of extreme projection. As a young man (and now to some extent) he was willing to associate with terrorists in his opposition to the establishment. Now that he is the establishment, he naturally sees all who don't wholly embrace him as lord and savior in DC, as potential terrorists.
Starting Thursday I have a new job. Although it is far from my dream job, it is a better job than the one I just quit. More importantly as it stands right now, I have somewhere between 8 and 10 days off during elk season, with several of them coming in a big block. So at least until I either a.) kill an elk or b.) season ends, I won't be in a big hurry to get another job. Not that I would mind a better job. I still have dozens of resumes out. I just won't be desperate to find new work and I can now afford to be selective in the next job I take.
Thanks to everyone for their prayers and well wishes while I was going nuts over the job issue.
Restaurant with antigun policy saved by a gun.
Let us consider the history. Taco Mac has not had an armed robbery in 30 years. Taco Mac posted the Georgia Restaurant Association signs banning firearms, which tells criminals that this is an easy target. Then it is robbed. So what is the conclusion to be drawn? That gun free zones encourage armed criminals to prey upon the disarmed people inside?If law abiding people are armed, the only ones with something to fear are criminals. I don't have a problem with that.
One of these friends happens to build custom long range weapons, and holds a couple of current world records in his own name, as well as having built guns that others have performed at the same level with. He is selling one of his personal weapons, due to not having the time to use it in competition, and being strapped for cash.
This gun is a rifle built on a Rem XP action (legally a handgun) and chambered in 6.5x47 Lupua. The barrel is nearly new having less than 50 rounds fired from it. At 200 yards the AVERAGE group size is 0.190 inches.
If you would like a rifle capable of competing at and winning world record level bench rest matches, this is it. I can arrange either a.) a FFL to FFL transfer to you or b.) if you are willing to travel, a person to person transfer. In either case, all firearms laws will be adheared to.
If you are interested either email me or leave your email in the comments.
If your interested in some more normal quality firearms, I'm thinking of thinning out my collection of hunting and military guns.
Here it is: Freedom Arms
I have shot the gun on the web page. Yes it's $1,500. It's great. This handgun can make solid hits out to 1,000 yards in the right caliber. You can have it with a number of options. You can also get additional different barrels for different applications. I like this handgun very much and it is worth the price. I would love to own one but that isn't going to happen right now, (see last two posts). Unless of course I can get someone to sponsor my hobbies. Which would be more likely had I taken first in any of the events I entered this year.
I have a new job now.
Same stinking industry. I did get a raise (not much of one) and a better benefit package. I still want a better job so bad I can taste it. Maybe something will work out in the next two weeks so that can happen.
God does love and look after fools. A fact for which I am grateful.
Was out of meaningful work for nearly a year.
Had to go back to doing something that I'm good at but don't like, for people who constantly make bad business decisions.
I'm making less money than I did 20 years ago doing the same work.
I nearly came to blows with "Ball Boy" last night. Seriously. This has never happened with me at any point in my working life since I was 13 years old until yesterday.
I've not been allowed to do the work I was hired to do, mostly because a member of management is looking for things to do that so it looks like he is actually doing something productive.
Tonight I was pushed over the edge on another issue.
So I quit.
I didn't just walk out, as soon as I get done with this post, I will prepare a proper 2 weeks notice, like I promised. I will professionally finish out my two weeks.
Apparently not only have I sacrificed my family's financial well being by giving up my career and moving to WYO, but I am now screwing myself and them over further by quitting a paying job with no prospects for another one. I must have lost my mind.
And because things don't suck enough; the wife's parents are here for another 2 weeks. So I'm sure this is going to just look spiffy in their eyes come morning.
Those of you who have reproduced know what I mean. We are no longer important to our parents. Our only function in their eyes, is to provide a house and other living arrangements for the grandchildren. That way when they come and feed them sugar and candy, then let them watch "Cars" roughly 14.6 times a day, followed by not going to bed on time (odd, bed time was important when I was a kid, it must be less vital in modern times) they can leave the little buggers in good hands, while they take off to recuperate. Another mystery to me is discipline. My two year old can do things and get away with them that I never could. For example: I remember playing with dad's tools and leaving them in the yard, in the rain to rust. I remember this because the beating I received for my misdeed healed up just in time for me to sit through my collage graduation ceremony. However, when my son does the same thing, my dad just laughs and says, "kids just do that". Near death beatings must be less vital now too.
It must be true: Grandparents and grand kids get along so well because they have a common enemy.
The reason for this visit is that its Res Jr's birthday next week. This is the first year he has been able to look forward to it. He has too. He has mastered most of the words to "happy birthday" and says things like, "birthday pie with whipped cream". I think he is getting cake next week and a pie when my folks come. I think he'll suffer through the disappointment just fine. We are ok with celebrating birthdays a couple or three times to make sure everyone gets to participate. At least that's the way both sets of my grandparents and the great grandparents did it for me growing up. Add that to the list of things that make you go "hummm".
This year while shooting the Sundance competition an acquaintance asked me if I would be interested in shooting the 2010 ITRC . For those of you who don't know, ITRC is one of the few events where SPEC OP, LEO and civilians can compete head to head in a full out SPEC OP level event. I felt particulary honered, since the person asking me to cover the long range portion of the event was active duty SPEC OP for 20 years.
Yesterday another acquaintance approached me about teaming with him to shoot ITRC for next year. He wants me to shoot the short range portion of the event. Again I was honored as he is reconized as a shooting expert.
The challenge is this: I'm not in physical shape to participate. In order to shoot the course you have to be able to run it. I doubt that I could lug a full pack loaded down with 1,000 plus rounds of ammo, plus gear, plus water. You see its much easier to have a trigger finger that is in good shape than to have your whole body in shape.
So the question is, "how do I get in shape and prep for this if I'm going to do it"?
For a better explaination of the event by guys who have run it click here.
I have a suggestion for the Republican Party's new motto: "All the Right Words, All the Wrong Actions". On nearly every issue they say the "right" conservative phrases and then go about doing the wrong thing anyway. I'm sure most Republicans would agree with the above quote, it sounds good. Nearly none will work to make it Federal law or policy.
We've got a new kid at work. He is 18 years old, pale as a vampire, tongue priced, queer sounding, mumbles almost all the time, whining little post gen X slacker, waste of oxygen, who only got the job because his girl friend keep calling up (3 to 4 times an hour) till someone said "sure show up at 3:30 for training". No I don't like him, he seldom actually does any work and has told me 5 times in the 2 days since he started work that something "isn't his job". Incidentally I'm his boss when the other bosses aren't around.
We've got another guy at work, who is like me, older, a dad with a wife and kids to support who is used to doing more interesting work that pays better. His opinion of the new kid is even less charitable than mine. A lot less charitable.
So we bust our butts (me and the older guy) the slacker pretty much slacked and got yelled at a lot tonight. All of us were taking a break (the two old farts needed it, the kid hadn't actually done any real work) and the kid saw "beef and buffalo" fries as a menu item. I wasn't around for this part but the kid asked the older guy what they were and was told, "Buffalo and Bull balls".
Now as I understand it, where we were has the best balls in several hundred miles. People who eat balls say they are top notch. So the kid gets himself a big platter of deep fried testicles served in a white creamy looking horseradish sauce. And in case you are wondering, yes it looks something like what you would expect to come out of that part of the male anatomy. Me and the other guy had a liquid mixture of wheat, barley and other naturally brewed flavorings, it was cold and yummy.
So everyone kicked back for a bit and relaxed. The kid chowed down on the balls with all the enthusiasm of a hungry 18 year old boy, or a starved school of piranha. When he finished he talked about how good they were. Then he asked me what they were. "Bull balls", I said. "No, what are they really?", he asked. "Balls, Nuts, Gonads, Testicles" I shot back, "You know the things in the bag at the base of your dick except bigger". He turned paler. I didn't think it was possible but he did, it was like watching a ghost get bleached.
"You mean people eat that?" he wanted to know. "We'll you just did" I said. He burped and then he gulped out, "do you eat em"? I couldn't resist. "Not me, I think its morally wrong for one man to eat that part of another males anatomy", I remarked. The other guy piped in, " I told you they were balls, I just figured you like 'em, you ate 'em like you had 'em before". The kid got real quiet. The two old farts got another beer.
"Can I get a beer?", he wanted to know. "I don't think they'll sell you one", my buddy said. "Are you going to try to claim you were drunk and that is why you ate balls?" he asked. "I don't think you should worry about eating balls, I hear H___ (gay guy well known in town for being out) eats them all the time". I smirked. "I'm not a fag," he protested, "I was hungry". SIDE NOTE: I know he said "hungry" but that tongue ring of his made it sound like he said "horny", not a good thing to say when you're defending your heterosexuality. "Sure you're horny, you ate all those balls, that's what they are an aphrodisiac".
At this point the poor kid looked at the plate, and honest to goodness, I think it occurred to him right at that minute that the white creamy looking horseradish sauce looked a lot like spooge. I thought he was going to either faint or hurl. I think he thought that too. He only keep dinner down because he had a bigger battle to fight.
"An afro what", he pleaded. "An aphrodisiac" I replied, "you know a food that makes you extra horny so you can keep it up longer, like Viagra". My buddy butted in "That's why the indians did it. They got the idea from watching the buffalo. They saw how big of a dick the buffalo had and they thought if they ate the balls they could grow bigger dicks too." ANOTHER SIDE NOTE: I've got no idea who first said "testicles, yummy, lets eat that". Frankly they had to be one sick puppy. In Wyoming the "old indian legend" gets pulled alot and given a bit of credibility. This time it sounded like a good explanation. I know that aphrodisiac and male enhancement aren't the same thing but my buddy was trying to pull the kids leg and it seemed to work. Sometimes you just role with it.
At this point the conversation turned ugly. The kid bought into the whole "horny, gay with a small dick" thing and was getting mean about it. I think he really thought that eating nuts made you gay. So to get back he started getting way out of line, talking about our wives etc. Both me and my buddy could take this kid out, but we just walked away. We knew we had gotten him worked up. We also knew that we didn't want to explain to the boss why his new employee was too beat up to come into work.
It has never occurred to me to get upset over something like this. If I eat something and it tastes good, I just enjoy it. I don't need anyone else's approval for what I eat. I don't care what they think about it either. I like escargots. I don't care if you think its gross or nasty. When I'm in the mood I eat them and I like it.
I rerealized something that I'm sure many of you may have thought of too. People who dress odd and do their best to be "individuals" or "unique" tend to be the very ones that need other peoples acceptance the most. The goth or whatever they are calling the new punk look is far from tough, its a visual cry for acceptance. Unfortunately the only ones they are likely to gain acceptance from are others who are just as maladjusted as they are.
A special thanks to Taylor aka "the blog goddess" and "miracle worker", who has kindly devoted herself to fixing my mistakes and repairing my blunders. Any suggestions you have for making the blog better can be posted here. Taylor will consider them, if she approves and feels like doing something about it, maybe something will happen. Otherwise as I understand it, I'm not allowed to make any more changes to code/template/etc. This is because my understanding of and working on these things has been likened to a chimp pounding on a keyboard. Although to be fair, the chimp may achieve better results at times.
At the end of World War II, the most industrially advanced communist nation to ever exist was faced with a serious problem. After Stalin'sprogram of Yezhovshchina(the Great Purge) which according to official Soviet records killed less than 2,000,000 people, The Holodomor (terror-famine), the Russian Revolution the Russian Civil War, the period of communist collectivism (many historians place Stalin's personal body count around 30 to 50 million dead), the First and Second World Wars, Russia's population was 60 million less than during Czarist rule. Even though the population was greatly reduced, the Communist Soviet Union was unable to feed its self.
Nikita Khrushchev thought someone should do something about it. Fortunately he was just the man for the job. He had a plan and a snappy name for his program "The Virgin Lands Campaign". The Soviet Union is one of the largest and natural resource rich nations on earth. One area Kazakhstan, has a territory of 2,727,300 km (larger than Western Europe) and is suitable for growing wheat and other grain crops. The idea was simplicity its self, move farmers to the area, plow up the land, plant wheat and save the country. So that's what they did.
I hope you caught all that. The program was a success, at first. They plowed up over 330,000 km of land or about 12% of Kazakhstan and they grew lots and lots of wheat. Impressive. In fact they were producing about 2 times the amount of wheat as the greedy individualistic western nations. So what happened? Well no one thought about the need to store the wheat or the need to transport it to people who wanted to eat it, so it rotted in Siberia, and the Russians had to buy food from people who could actually get it to their cities.
The first harvest on the Virgin Lands, in 1956, was a stunning success. Of the 125 million tonnes of grain produced in the
Soviet Unionthat year, more than half of it came from one eighth of the country. The Soviet Unionwas producing, per capita, twice as much wheat as the West. The scheme was therefore considered to be a huge success, as it not only enabled the to feed its people but also to prove to the world that the Communist way of life was "better". USSR
Nearly all of the collective farms in the Virgin Lands grew one crop alone: wheat. By the 1960s, the soil had been drained of all its nutrients beneficial to wheat. However, production of fertilizers in the
had increased during this period and so the loss of fertility was principally due to poor planning as the fertilizers were rarely available where they were needed. Before long, due to lack of any measures to prevent erosion, much of that soil was simply being blown away by the wind to leave bare, useless steppe behind. USSR
Also, much of the crop that could be harvested was wasted, as there were not enough storage silos, so it had to be thrown away. Furthermore, the Soviet infrastructure was unable to cope and so much of the grain produced did not reach the towns, which was where it was most needed.
Therefore despite the initial success of the Virgin Lands Campaign, the
Soviet Unionwas forced to buy 20 million tonnes of grain from to meet its needs and avoid famine. This constituted a huge humiliation both for the Canada and for Khrushchev, who had boasted that the USSR Soviet Unionwould outstrip agricultural production. US
Government bureaucrat's are capable of doing a job once it is laid out to them and they get funding for it. One problem is that they will do the job and use the bench marks they are told indicate success. Benchmark #1 plow land, check. Benchmark #2 grow wheat, check. Benchmark #3 harvest wheat, check. Send in report demonstrating we accomplished our job, check. Someone forgot Benchmark #4 get wheat to hungry people, no one did it, it wasn't their job.
Next time you come across ObamaCare, remember the Virgin Lands Campaign and the law of unintended consequences. The Soviets spent lots of money, did lots of work and still failed to get what they wanted, yet some still think it was a success.
"Someone should do something about it". That was the rational for a government health care program called medicare. Medicare is a very large reason that the cost of health care in this country has risen faster than other sectors of the economy. The communists in America believe that they can fix the cost of health care if only they can get their hands on the entire industry, never admitting that they are the ones who made it unaffordable in the first place. Think I'm a bit over the top? Ask a Ukrainian era 1932 about the effects collectivism and Supply and Demand (third link in the post).
No one at work wants to say it was a slip and fall due to workman's comp issues. Only one person was around when it happened and his statement isn't very helpful. So it looks like the question as to what really happened will go unanswered, unless I have another incident.
My wedding present from my minister was the pick of a litter of pups he was expecting to be born latter in the summer. No discount on the price, just first pick. I jumped at it. I had hunted behind his dog and I wanted one of those pups. I understood, albeit vaguely that I was getting a good blood line. Years latter I bought a book on the GWP in America and then I understood how good. I had, by total accident, bought into the best pedigree available in the US. By the time I understood that fact, it didn't matter, at least not much.
After the pups were born, I was a regular visitor bedside. I had first pick. I was learning everything there was to know about picking "the best dog". In the end I should have skipped it all. Because I didn't pick her, she picked me. By the time 3 weeks passed I was regularly testing the pups with stick and wing, playing "fetch" or at least throwing stuff for the little pack to chase, I can't claim I ever got anything returned at this stage. By 4 weeks one bitch wouldn't leave me alone. If I sat in the grass all the pups would come to climb on me. She would get in my lap and bite, scratch and claw her brothers and sisters off in an effort to keep me to herself. But there was another bitch in the litter. This one had a very stylish coat. I could see the dollar signs if I bred her and got similar pups. I passed because she wasn't strong on point, that and I knew my buddy really wanted her.
One dog was strong on point, and she tried several times to follow me home from my visits. At 5 weeks of age, I said "hup" and she ran to my truck to get in. So we got in and went home. I named her Abby and registered her as The Baroness Von Hoover. Hoover, of course being the vacuum cleaner company. No speck of people food, no matter how small, could fall from my table and escape her.
I had a little experience working with leader dogs for the blind so I used some of those tactics to socialize her. It seemed to work well. I started to teach her to be a bird dog. Foolish effort on my part. She was ALL BIRD DOG, there was nothing for me to teach, other than trying to control her and guide the hunting. Abby was one birdy dog.
Have you ever made love to a women and brought her to the point she passed out from the pleasure of the experience? That moment right before the ecstasy overtakers her and her whole body is a quiver with emotion and sensation, is the way Abby got every time she was on a bird. She would lock point and tremble with anticipation. After the flush, the shot, the fall, and being told "fetch" she would retrieve softly to hand, and then look up as if to say, "that was great for me, do you have a cigarette"?
That was because of how grand a dog she was. I was a miserable master. I thought you could make a good dog into a great dog by applying liberal amounts of discipline. She, uncharacteristically of the breed, accepted my blows and figured out how to turn me into a master worthy of her love.
I don't know which hunting stories do her justice. At 6 or 7 months of age she made a fantastic stalk, point and flush (on command) on a pheasant. The retrieve was amazing. The bird was only wounded and managed to land in the middle of a mostly frozen river on an ice flow. Abby dove superman style off the bank into what she had to have thought was solid snow. She went under and so did the bird. She came out on the other side of the river and immediately looked back and scouted for the now submerged hen. She sniffed the air, pointed the ice flow and jumped back in the freezing water. Scouting around in the water she submerged herself and swam under a large hunk of ice. When she came out the other side she was holding the bird in her mouth. She promptly brought it to hand, shook herself off and trotted back to the bank she just crawled out of and pointed a stand of cattails. I gave the release command and she flushed a rooster. I shot it and it made the far side of the river before it fell. Abby went and got that bird too.
There was a man who saw her hunt from the farm yard. He offered me $1,000 for Abby. I shook my head no. Then he offered $5,000. I don't know if it was pride or vanity or just plain appreciation of what kind of dog I had, but I said, "not for ten times that". He thought about it and said, "a man gets a dog like that, maybe once in his life, I wouldn't respect you if you would sell."
Abby has successfully hunted every kind of bird I ever sent her after, even when she didn't know what we were hunting. We hunted and limited out one year with a tornado touching down just 5 or 6 miles up the road from us. She has protected me from rattle snakes that remained silent. She has drove thousands of miles with me in the truck. We would fish, hike the mountains and camp out together. Abby would steal the covers every time she got to sleep in a hotel bed. In the tent she would burrow her way into my sleeping bag until she was comfy and I was out of the bag. She was a very clean dog always going as far away as possible to do her business. If she saw me get a shotgun out she would get so excited that she wouldn't sleep. She would just pace at the backdoor to make sure I didn't go hunting without her. She would let kids and puppies maul her without complaint. 12 years with her was entirely too short, I wish it could have been longer.
About two years ago she got cancer. I had it removed. They said they got it all. She still went down hill. It was hard for her to walk she had arthritis. She would growl mostly because she hurt and wanted to be left alone, except if I was around, then she would come running with her tail wagging to nuzzel her master. Pain meds seemed to help, but not much. I didn't let her hunt last fall. I was planning one last hunt for this year. A trip to South Dakota was in the works. I wanted one last good weekend and then a peaceful retirement for her in a warm bed.
Sunday night I came home from work and let the dogs out of the kennel. I wanted to give them a quick run before I got ready for church. Sunday night is a bit of a rush at our house with me working till 5. I was getting changed as the wife and kids were headed to the car. Res Jr. tried to pet Abby and she bit him hard on his hand. I went outside and for the first time in 12 years Abby refused my orders.
I knew what I should do. I knew what I had to do. I sure looked for anyway around doing it. I went back in the house leaving the dog in the garage. I questioned the wife and the boy. Was there anyway that this wasn't her fault. Please God let the boy have hit her in the eye or something, anything. But there was nothing.
I went back out to the truck and dropped the tailgate. She came. Its been over a year since she could hop in by herself, so I lifted her up. I didn't speak or pet her. I just closed the tailgate and drove. We drove down the interstate for about an hour when Mrs Ipsa called. She wanted me to go to the vet. I told her no and hung up. A man does his own killing. Half an hour or so latter we pulled off the interstate and onto a gravel road. Gravel roads have always meant something good to Abby. She stood up in back and waged her tail. She was happy.
I drove up the long curvy road into the forest. I had a vague idea about a place on a ridge overlooking a valley with ridges and a mountain visible on the other side. We hunted grouse not far from here a time or two. I pulled up the two track and found a spot to stop. I dropped the tailgate and grabbed the shovel. Abby jumped down. Her hips and legs didn't seem to be hurting her. She started hunting. I let her. "Please God let her run off and get lost", I pray. I know I don't want that for her. Night will come, it will get cold, and there are lions and coyotes to contend with. I don't want it to end like that. I let her hunt and sniff. The sun is setting behind the mountain. She hasn't come to me on her own and I don't have the hart to order her.
She walks down a game trail below me on the ridge. Like so many times before she is testing the air for scent. She is facing away. I draw and shoot. Abby falls dead instantly. The report from my gun echos around the ridges.
Just last week Abby, the boy and I went up to the mountains. "Fun day, daddy" he said. Thursday we went back to the same place that we had gone before to "climb rocks" and look for animals. "Where is Abby?" he wants to know. "She doesn't live with us anymore", I say. The boy has asked me that question all week.
He doesn't know his daddy is Judas.
One I've been pondering is, "A man does his own killing". If your not from a certain American subculture or a fan of of the Western you might not have come across that one. If you are, have you ever thought about how or why we got it?
I think we got it because there are times when a man must kill. Some times it is for food, or country or defense or another justifiable cause. Regardless of the reason, only the person performing the act can determine if the cost to his soul is worth the taking of another life. "A man does his own killing", is a fact of life. A real man doesn't order his own killings or pay to have them done. HE must pull the trigger, either literally or figuratively. He must pay the cost.
Is the cost worth it? Sometimes the cost is only the knowledge of having performed the act. Sometimes the cost is having other people know, and either praise or condemn you for what you have done. Sometimes the cost is a gaping hole in one's soul. A hole that tears cannot fill.
Think of that cost whether you hunt or hate, or must do what is right and administer a just blow to someone you know. Is the cost worth it?
A man does his own killing.
And accepts the price that he must pay.
The mental midgets at workman's comp are insisting on me having these tests as part of deciding if they are going to foot the bill. Apparently I have to actually run up significant medical bills (beyond a 40 mile ambulance trip and an ER visit) in order for them to pay for the ambulance. Of course if they decide that they aren't going to pay for the accident then they won't pay for these tests either. Which leaves me on the hook for the whole (much bigger) bill.
And people actually want more government involvement in health care. Idiots.
In the hospital waiting room they had news coverage of congress on. I had to listen to some chick make an emotional plea to congress for more involvement in health care because she had cancer and a sub-prime mortgage. How the two (cancer and sub-prime mtgs) are connected escaped my powers of observation other than it was SO UNFAIR that she had to go through this.
In the mean time I'm working the same kind of dead end job I used to pay for college because (in part) congress and the Indonesian Who Would Be King (IWWBK) want even more control over the economy and the environment in an effort to establish the same workers paradise and high living standards of Kenya.
The doctors office called tonight after I signed off the computer. The CAT scan came back 100% normal. I'm still waiting for x-rays and I'm on the heart monitor for another 12 hrs or so.
I'm having symptoms that something is wrong. I tend to get dizzy for no reason and am having problems being sleepy and disorientated. I've also started having problems recalling words that are common for me to use when speaking, as well as "stalling out" (forgetting the rest of a sentence when speaking). I tend to get a feeling of being lightheaded from time to time as well. Occasionally I get the "spins", and no I haven't been drinking. I'm having headaches and pain behind my right eye, both of theses things come and go during the day. I'm also more forgetful than normal.
I'm still going to work and so far I haven't had a problem driving, perhaps that is because I'm sitting down. At this point I have nothing medical to report.
The EMT's said my blood sugar was normal (107) my blood pressure was slightly high, but they thought that was a result of the stress of hitting my head and it went back down in a short amount of time. The hospital performed a ton of tests and could find nothing wrong with me. Other than a big knot on the back of my head.
Frankly I'm scared. I have no idea what caused this and apparently neither did the ER doc. I have a follow up apt with a different doc tomorrow. Prayers appreciated.
Because of the situation surrounding her birth Blondie has always had developmental issues. If you look at her she is a normal attractive young lady, if you talk to her she is able to communicate at what you would assume to be a normal level of understanding. For all practical day to day social activities you would think her a normal 20 something of average height/looks/intelligence. But she isn't. She can't drive a car, as she lacks the concentration to focus for more than a few minutes at a time. Blondie can't handle many other day to day things that require a normal level of concentration or planning. Because of this her parents took legal control of her affairs and her person when she was very young. So even though she is now over 21 she is legally their ward and will be for life.
Now my buddy, her dad, we'll call him Tex, is the nicest guy you'd ever want to meet. If you did meet him you'd be friends in about 3 minutes and life long friends after about 15 minutes of talking with the man. He's one of the most laid back and likable men there is. One of the things I tease Tex about is that he needs to get a gun and start saving up for a bail fund so I can get him out of jail when his twin girls start liking boys. I've been kidding him about this for about 10 years and now that the girls are at that age. Normally he just jokes back with me and we enjoy our visit.
I brought the bail thing up excepting a friendly chat. He told me in as serious a way as I've ever seen, "no need for bail, I'm willing to die for my daughters". Then Tex told me a story that had recently happened about Blondie. Blondie likes boys, just as any normal 20 something girl is apt to. Being blond, slim and appropriately and attractively curved as a female should be, the boys have noticed her too. Tex has always let his daughter date and like any good dad he has set limits and taught his kids what is right and what is wrong and how to be with members of the opposite sex.
Problem is that one boy has been putting the pressure on Blondie to violate dad's limits and rules. He likes to remind her that she is over 21 and doesn't have to do what her daddy says. Tex found out about this situation and ended the relationship between Blondie and the boy (this boy being about 25). In my book this should get Tex's name in the hat for a great dad award. In the boy's book, Tex's name went right to the top of his "to do" list.
Now the "to do" list included a confrontation with Tex as a way of establishing who would be filling the slots on Blondie's dance card. So the boy shows up at Tex's job and pesters the receptionist till she gets Tex and he goes outside. I'm sure you can fill in the details of the encounter. The cops were called. The boys mom works for the Sheriffs department and everything seems to have been swept under the rug. I asked for details about how it went down. This is what Tex said:
"I am willing to die for my daughter, he wasn't. I don't care what it costs me, I'll go to jail or the grave, no one messes with my family". "When some boy comes along that is willing to die for my little girls, I'll give them in marriage but not till then." "Thats the way it was in the Bible times and it ain't gonna change at my house."
The object of the game is to destroy American capitalism by having the government take over everything!
Tokens include a bus, a teleprompter, a sprig of arugula and a waffle iron.
Wanna play? No??? Too bad, you're already playing... And quite frankly, in this game, nobody wins!
If anyone knows who originated this, I would be glad to provide credit and a link.
The houses I've seen on the show are fabulous. I wish I was able to have something like them for my family. Can you imagine someone giving up their home?
That's what the Hassall family is doing. You see they believe they would be better off if they were debt free. Blame it on Dave Ramesy. Their church held one of his Financial Peace classes and they decided that they would be better off in a house that was paid for, but not as nice. They would rather give up comfort than struggle with bills. So they're selling out.
Some of the folks in their Cynthiana Kentucky town are a bit peeved and feel like the family is profiting at the towns expense and ungrateful for such a nice house. Personally I'm with the Hassalls its better to live debt free than worry about the nicer things in life. I say good on them.
The man pondered a moment, then replied, "I don't think he'd pay $17.95 for that hat."
Not really, but I thought this was funny.
I almost didn't get their email message about my new classification as a SPAM blog. They send it out on an automated system and my ISP filter rightly classified Bloggers email as SPAM. Apparently its OK for them to SPAM you about their misguided belief that your blog is spam.
So if this blog is deleted automatically you know what happened.
I so love having to type word verification to post too. I guess googles business model now includes making their products less user friendly. Being a pain in the arse must be more profitable and produce better content. That or its a way for computer geeks to have a "program" to run so they can keep their jobs and avoid working for a living.
For those of you who might not know what the heck this post is, its my draw results for this years hunting season. In WYO you have to draw to get licenses in certain areas. The reason is that they limit the harvest to control herd health. I buy my deer tag over the counter because I don't care about hunting trophy mulies. I didn't draw a moose or a sheep (bummer but expected). Look down at the elk area. What that code means is that I drew one of the best units in the entire state for large bulls that is Grizzly and wolf free. Every year when the snow flies the elk migrate out of the Black Hills of South Dakota down one of 3 major travel corridors and I have a hunting license for one of the best areas in state. More importantly I have an "any elk" tag, which means I can shoot a bull.
I'm so excited I can't sleep now.