Today, at about 9:14 my time, while I was madly refreshing Arfcom, I scrolled to the bottom of my recently refreshed thread and saw one word that gave me hope, just a little, but hope still, that the Republic is not lost.
Affirmed.
DC lost in DC vs. Heller. Scalia gave the 4 traitors who voted to deny Americans the right of self defense the worst legalese horsewhipping I have ever seen. Words like "absurdity" and "groteseque" are now preserved in American call, used appropriately to denounce the side of liberalism.
This is not "machine guns for all." Unfortunately. This means the forces of freedom have taken on small beach-head in the war against tyranny, and now it's time for the REST of the good guys to come sweeping in behind. If my math is right, exactly 1 minute after I read "Affirmed," the NRA filed suit against Chicago and Illinois, challenging THEIR gun bans.
It's nice to be on the offensive for a change. Yes, I know, Feinstein, Shumer, and Boxer have not been hung by the neck until dead, but this is the first time in history that I've heard of a gun law being struck down.
Here we go.
I close with a note from Ted Nugent:
---------------------------------------------
A “SUPREME” COURT? I CAN DO BETTER
by Ted Nugent
It is glaringly obvious that a critical lesson in history 101 is due in America, for it appears that not only does a lunatic fringe of anti-freedom Americans dismiss our founding fathers’ clear declaration of independence and succinct enumeration of our God-given individual rights, but some Americans have the arrogance and audacity to question whether the right to self-defense is indeed one of these individual rights. Dear God in heaven, who could be this soulless? How about 4 out of the 9 so called “Supreme” justices of the land. God help us all.
Who could be so asinine as to believe that a free man has no such right to keep and bear arms for self-defense? What kind of low-life scoundrel would know that courageous heroes of the U.S. Military would volunteer over and over again to sacrifice and die for such self-evident truths, then turn around and spit on their graves by discounting the very freedoms that these brave men and women have died to protect?
Will these supreme legal scholars also affirm an individual right to choose the religion of our individual choice? Do they authorize our individual freedom of speech? Can you imagine? Them is fighting words my friends, and the line drawn in the sand has never been more outrageous.
Recent USA Today and Gallup polls showed a whopping 73% of good Americans know damn well that we are all created equal, and that we each have an individual right to protect our life, liberty and pursuit of happiness. What kind of jackass doesn’t know this? Allow the guitar player to translate for the soul-dead among us.
Keep-this means the gun is mine and you can’t have it. This does not mean I will register it with a government agency. The government works for “we the people,” not the other way around, regardless of what Hillary Clinton, Ted Kennedy, Hitler, Mao Tse Tung, Pol Pot, Saddam Hussein or Barack Hussein Obama or 4 supreme justices may try to tell you.
Bear-this means I’ve got it right here, on me, either in my grasp or damn near. This does not mean locked away in a safe, trigger-locked or stored at the local sporting club.
Shall not be infringed-this of course is another way of saying Don’t tread on me, for we will not be your willing crime victims, subjects, servants or slaves, so don’t even think about it.
When the evil King’s gangsters came to collect unfair taxes from Americans, we tossed their tea into the drink. When they came to disarm us into helplessness against their old world tyrannical ways, we met them at Concord Bridge and shot them dead till they quit treading on us. Any questions children? I didn’t think so.
Corrupt men cannot be trusted, hence the right of “the people” to choose the individual church of our choice, to speak our individual ideas and beliefs, to have individual freedom from unwarranted searches and seizures, and ultimately, to exercise our individual right to keep and bear arms so that evildoers cannot do unto us that which we would not do unto them. Get it? I would love to meet the human being who would argue these points with us. We would be looking at a fascist, and of course fascists, by all historical and empirical evidence, must be eliminated.
If you value the American Way, if you believe in the words and spirit of the US Constitution and our sacred Bill of Rights, if you know in your heart that you have the right, the duty, the spiritual obligation to protect yourself and your loved ones from evil in all of its forms, then you had best contact each and every one of your elected officials right away and let them know that you know exactly what the Second Amendment says and stands for. Remind them about the “shall not be infringed” clause.
It will not be the fault of the rotten anti-Americans out there who don’t believe in individual rights that rape and pillage our Constitution, it will be the fault of those who know better but failed to speak up. Now is the time to fortify America, and we better inform the Supreme Court just who truly is the “Supreme” Court of America-We the people. Individual people with individual, God given rights. The real America. Live free or die.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Breaking Records
Broke my previous record of 5.5 miles last Sunday - 6 miles.
Today I broke my record again - 8 miles. Ran my 4.5 route, then my 1.5 route, then a mile to the gas station and back again. My hands and shoulder went numb (I'm thinking dehydration) around mile 6. Kept running though, and here I am 8 hours later and my throat's STILL dry. Only reason I quit was because I was getting bored. Coulda run another mile, mile and a half.
Mind you, I ran 8 miles in 85 degree heat while wearing jeans and an UnderArmor t-shirt. That makes me feel even better.
Today I broke my record again - 8 miles. Ran my 4.5 route, then my 1.5 route, then a mile to the gas station and back again. My hands and shoulder went numb (I'm thinking dehydration) around mile 6. Kept running though, and here I am 8 hours later and my throat's STILL dry. Only reason I quit was because I was getting bored. Coulda run another mile, mile and a half.
Mind you, I ran 8 miles in 85 degree heat while wearing jeans and an UnderArmor t-shirt. That makes me feel even better.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Good Shoot
http://abcnews.go.com/WNT/story?id=2086555
Nevada Family Court Judge Allegedly Shot Over Divorce Ruling
Courts Boost Security as Judge's Increasingly Become Targets
By NANCY WEINER
June 16, 2006
The shooting of a family court judge this week in Nevada points to an alarming phenomenon in which those involved in emotional and acrimonious cases are taking their frustrations out on the judges.
On Monday Nevada Family Court Judge Chuck Weller was shot in his office by a man he dealt with in a divorce case.
The suspect, Darren Mack, is a multmillionaire father of three whose relatives say was deeply upset over Weller's rulings in his divorce case.
"He felt that the financial remuneration that was awarded to his wife was totally unjust and unfair," said Mack's cousin, Jeff Donner.
Mack allegedly used a sniper's rifle to fire through the window of the judge's third-floor office window, shooting Weller in the chest. He was hospitalized and survived the shooting.
Later that day Mack's estranged wife, Charla Mack, was found dead in the garage of her home. Darren Mack was also charged for the slaying and remains a fugitive.
New Protections for Family Court Judges
Mack's campaign against Weller began months in advance, according to the judge's spokesman, who said the suspect found plenty of company in his frustrations on the Internet.
One blogger called the judge a terrorist. Another complained he was a bully and abusive. A third compared him to Hitler.
Family court judges across the country said, sadly, that such venom is not unusual. These courts are actually considered by many judges to be even more volatile than criminal courts because the plaintiffs have so much at stake -- custody, visitation rights, money -- and emotions are often at the breaking point.
"We draw the ire of some people who are incapable of thinking objectively because the pressures of divorce and custody matters sometimes drive them to the bitter end," said Judge Charles McGee.
In New York state, every family courthouse is now equipped with a day care center. The policy was put in place after a Brooklyn parole officer shot and killed his estranged wife in a courthouse hallway packed with children.
"We terminate parental rights sometimes, which is the equivalent of the death penalty in civil courts. That's not something that goes down very easy," said Judge Stephen Rubin, president of the National Council of Juvenile and Family Court Judges.
Many of the nation's courthouses have been made more secure since Sept. 11, 2001. Monday's shooting prompted the introduction of legislation to replace courthouse windows with bulletproof glass.
As for Weller, he survived the shooting but went straight from the hospital into hiding, where he's likely to remain until his attacker is caught.
------------------------------------------------
Found this a couple of weeks ago when people were talking about individuals "pushing the reset button." Figured it'd make a good follow-up to what I just posted.
The gist of the story is that well-known crooked judge for divorce court broke up a family, and the father "pushed the reset button" with a rifle. What I got from the retelling I heard was that Weller bought it, DRT. Apparently not.
Dang.
Darren Mack, the guy who shot Mr. Weller, was no choirboy. As I understand it, he later murdered his ex-wife.
That said, Mr. Weller has a history of screwing men over in divorce court, backing them down with promises of asset forfeiture, stuff like that. And the law is stacked against men so much in divorce court that if they get screwed, it's 99.999% of the time the fault of the court/judge.
Used to be, not getting married and not having kids was a way for a guy to protect himself. Still is, except in NJ.
Anyway. Good shoot. Too bad he didn't kill him.
This needs to keep happening until the divorce laws are reformed, until fathers have rights, until men aren't looked at as gravy trains by the law.
I'm thinking Chucky is going to at least think about taking a round to the chest every time he steps into his court room, and that's the way it should be.
Post script: What caliber for judges?
Nevada Family Court Judge Allegedly Shot Over Divorce Ruling
Courts Boost Security as Judge's Increasingly Become Targets
By NANCY WEINER
June 16, 2006
The shooting of a family court judge this week in Nevada points to an alarming phenomenon in which those involved in emotional and acrimonious cases are taking their frustrations out on the judges.
On Monday Nevada Family Court Judge Chuck Weller was shot in his office by a man he dealt with in a divorce case.
The suspect, Darren Mack, is a multmillionaire father of three whose relatives say was deeply upset over Weller's rulings in his divorce case.
"He felt that the financial remuneration that was awarded to his wife was totally unjust and unfair," said Mack's cousin, Jeff Donner.
Mack allegedly used a sniper's rifle to fire through the window of the judge's third-floor office window, shooting Weller in the chest. He was hospitalized and survived the shooting.
Later that day Mack's estranged wife, Charla Mack, was found dead in the garage of her home. Darren Mack was also charged for the slaying and remains a fugitive.
New Protections for Family Court Judges
Mack's campaign against Weller began months in advance, according to the judge's spokesman, who said the suspect found plenty of company in his frustrations on the Internet.
One blogger called the judge a terrorist. Another complained he was a bully and abusive. A third compared him to Hitler.
Family court judges across the country said, sadly, that such venom is not unusual. These courts are actually considered by many judges to be even more volatile than criminal courts because the plaintiffs have so much at stake -- custody, visitation rights, money -- and emotions are often at the breaking point.
"We draw the ire of some people who are incapable of thinking objectively because the pressures of divorce and custody matters sometimes drive them to the bitter end," said Judge Charles McGee.
In New York state, every family courthouse is now equipped with a day care center. The policy was put in place after a Brooklyn parole officer shot and killed his estranged wife in a courthouse hallway packed with children.
"We terminate parental rights sometimes, which is the equivalent of the death penalty in civil courts. That's not something that goes down very easy," said Judge Stephen Rubin, president of the National Council of Juvenile and Family Court Judges.
Many of the nation's courthouses have been made more secure since Sept. 11, 2001. Monday's shooting prompted the introduction of legislation to replace courthouse windows with bulletproof glass.
As for Weller, he survived the shooting but went straight from the hospital into hiding, where he's likely to remain until his attacker is caught.
------------------------------------------------
Found this a couple of weeks ago when people were talking about individuals "pushing the reset button." Figured it'd make a good follow-up to what I just posted.
The gist of the story is that well-known crooked judge for divorce court broke up a family, and the father "pushed the reset button" with a rifle. What I got from the retelling I heard was that Weller bought it, DRT. Apparently not.
Dang.
Darren Mack, the guy who shot Mr. Weller, was no choirboy. As I understand it, he later murdered his ex-wife.
That said, Mr. Weller has a history of screwing men over in divorce court, backing them down with promises of asset forfeiture, stuff like that. And the law is stacked against men so much in divorce court that if they get screwed, it's 99.999% of the time the fault of the court/judge.
Used to be, not getting married and not having kids was a way for a guy to protect himself. Still is, except in NJ.
Anyway. Good shoot. Too bad he didn't kill him.
This needs to keep happening until the divorce laws are reformed, until fathers have rights, until men aren't looked at as gravy trains by the law.
I'm thinking Chucky is going to at least think about taking a round to the chest every time he steps into his court room, and that's the way it should be.
Post script: What caliber for judges?
NJ Idiocy
http://www.nj.com/news/ledger/index.ssf?/base/news-13/12137649544110.xml&coll=1
Palimony ruling sets precedent in Jersey
Justices: Cohabitation is not the only factor
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
BY TOM HESTERStar-Ledger Staff
In a decision described as the first of its type in the nation, the state Supreme Court ruled yesterday that a couple does not have to live together in order for one partner to sue the other for palimony after a breakup.
The high court ruled that judges should consider the "entirety" of a couple's relationship, and that cohabitation is only one factor in deciding whether they had a "marital-type relationship."
The ruling overturned an appeals court decision last year that said there is no basis for a palimony suit unless a couple lived together.
"It is the promise of support, expressed or implied, coupled with a marital-type relationship, that are the indispensable elements to support a valid claim of palimony," Justice John Wallace wrote for the court.
The high court was ruling in the case of a former North Bergen woman who was attempting to sue a prominent, wealthy and married Manhattan ophthalmologist for palimony after he ended a 20-year relationship.
"This is the first ruling of its type in the country," said William Goldberg, the Hackensack-based attorney for the defendant in the case, retired ophthalmologist Francis L'Esperance, 75. "I don't remember any case in the United States ever permitting recovery where cohabitation did not exist. This is the first case that says there does not necessarily have to be a 'bright-line' requirement that cohabitation must exist, but it certainly is the most significant factor."
Alan Zegas, a Chatham-based family law attorney, said the decision is precedent-setting.
"The court appears to be evaluating the case in terms of requiring lower courts to examine whether promises were made that would cause one of the partners to believe a relationship existed, that it was similar to a marriage," he said. "I think the door is now wide open on these types of claims."
The justices left it up to Superior Court judges to determine when there is grounds for a palimony suit. Palimony is a court-ordered allowance paid by one member of an unmarried couple following a breakup. Alimony payments involve married couples.
"The Family Court is well equipped to consider highly personal facts and to determine whether a plaintiff's claim for support based on a marital-type relationship has merit," Wallace wrote.
The New Jersey courts have ruled since 1979 that cohabitation was necessary to bring a palimony suit. Prior to that year, the courts would not enforce support claims involving unmarried couples or married couples not living with their spouses.
The ruling did not help the woman who made the palimony claim, Helen Devaney, 47, now of Brooklyn. The justices turned away Devaney's contention that an unsuccessful effort to conceive a child with L'Esperance in 2003 "demonstrates that their relationship was sufficiently akin to a marriage."
They found she did not present enough evidence to uphold her palimony claim. L'Esperance, a pioneer in laser eye surgery, provided Devaney with money and a condominium in North Bergen.
Devaney was 23 and L'Esperance 51 when she went to work for him in 1983. After a few months, their relationship became intimate. She knew he was married, but he told her he planned to get a divorce. The couple saw each other no more than two or three evenings each week and sometimes one day on the weekend. During the seven years Devaney lived in the condo, L'Esperance spent no more than seven nights there, according to the decision.
The justices noted the trial judge found Devaney relied on L'Esperance's promises to take care of her and she eventually became financially dependent on L'Esperance.
"As the trial judge so aptly phrased it," Wallace wrote, "'the parties' relationship was best characterized as a dating relationship.'"
----------------------------------------
It's long been known that men get screwed in divorce court, child involved or no. Looks like New Jersey isn't even requiring marriage to a factor in divorce court. It used to be that not marrying was a possible option for a guy to be in a relationship and safeguard his possessions. Not so much in New Jersey now.
The stupidity is strangling. How do people come up with this crap.
Palimony ruling sets precedent in Jersey
Justices: Cohabitation is not the only factor
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
BY TOM HESTERStar-Ledger Staff
In a decision described as the first of its type in the nation, the state Supreme Court ruled yesterday that a couple does not have to live together in order for one partner to sue the other for palimony after a breakup.
The high court ruled that judges should consider the "entirety" of a couple's relationship, and that cohabitation is only one factor in deciding whether they had a "marital-type relationship."
The ruling overturned an appeals court decision last year that said there is no basis for a palimony suit unless a couple lived together.
"It is the promise of support, expressed or implied, coupled with a marital-type relationship, that are the indispensable elements to support a valid claim of palimony," Justice John Wallace wrote for the court.
The high court was ruling in the case of a former North Bergen woman who was attempting to sue a prominent, wealthy and married Manhattan ophthalmologist for palimony after he ended a 20-year relationship.
"This is the first ruling of its type in the country," said William Goldberg, the Hackensack-based attorney for the defendant in the case, retired ophthalmologist Francis L'Esperance, 75. "I don't remember any case in the United States ever permitting recovery where cohabitation did not exist. This is the first case that says there does not necessarily have to be a 'bright-line' requirement that cohabitation must exist, but it certainly is the most significant factor."
Alan Zegas, a Chatham-based family law attorney, said the decision is precedent-setting.
"The court appears to be evaluating the case in terms of requiring lower courts to examine whether promises were made that would cause one of the partners to believe a relationship existed, that it was similar to a marriage," he said. "I think the door is now wide open on these types of claims."
The justices left it up to Superior Court judges to determine when there is grounds for a palimony suit. Palimony is a court-ordered allowance paid by one member of an unmarried couple following a breakup. Alimony payments involve married couples.
"The Family Court is well equipped to consider highly personal facts and to determine whether a plaintiff's claim for support based on a marital-type relationship has merit," Wallace wrote.
The New Jersey courts have ruled since 1979 that cohabitation was necessary to bring a palimony suit. Prior to that year, the courts would not enforce support claims involving unmarried couples or married couples not living with their spouses.
The ruling did not help the woman who made the palimony claim, Helen Devaney, 47, now of Brooklyn. The justices turned away Devaney's contention that an unsuccessful effort to conceive a child with L'Esperance in 2003 "demonstrates that their relationship was sufficiently akin to a marriage."
They found she did not present enough evidence to uphold her palimony claim. L'Esperance, a pioneer in laser eye surgery, provided Devaney with money and a condominium in North Bergen.
Devaney was 23 and L'Esperance 51 when she went to work for him in 1983. After a few months, their relationship became intimate. She knew he was married, but he told her he planned to get a divorce. The couple saw each other no more than two or three evenings each week and sometimes one day on the weekend. During the seven years Devaney lived in the condo, L'Esperance spent no more than seven nights there, according to the decision.
The justices noted the trial judge found Devaney relied on L'Esperance's promises to take care of her and she eventually became financially dependent on L'Esperance.
"As the trial judge so aptly phrased it," Wallace wrote, "'the parties' relationship was best characterized as a dating relationship.'"
----------------------------------------
It's long been known that men get screwed in divorce court, child involved or no. Looks like New Jersey isn't even requiring marriage to a factor in divorce court. It used to be that not marrying was a possible option for a guy to be in a relationship and safeguard his possessions. Not so much in New Jersey now.
The stupidity is strangling. How do people come up with this crap.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
More Government Overreach
Senate Housing Bill Requires eBay, Amazon, Google, and All Credit Card Companies to Report Transactions to the Government
Broad, invasive provision touches nearly every aspect of American commerce.
Contact: Adam Brandon
Phone: 202-942-7612
Email: abrandon@freedomworks.org
Washington, DC - Hidden deep in Senator Christopher Dodd's 630-page Senate housing legislation is a sweeping provision that affects the privacy and operation of nearly all of America’s small businesses. The provision, which was added by the bill's managers without debate this week, would require the nation's payment systems to track, aggregate, and report information on nearly every electronic transaction to the federal government.
FreedomWorks Chairman Dick Armey commented: "This is a provision with astonishing reach, and it was slipped into the bill just this week. Not only does it affect nearly every credit card transaction in America, such as Visa, MasterCard, Discover, and American Express, but the bill specifically targets payment systems like eBay's PayPal, Amazon, and Google Checkout that are used by many small online businesses. The privacy implications for America's small businesses are breathtaking."
"Privacy groups like the Center for Democracy and Technology and small business organizations like the NFIB sharply criticized this idea when it first appeared earlier this year. What is the federal government's purpose with this kind of detailed data? How will this database be secured, and who will have access? Many small proprietors use their Social Security number as their tax ID. How will their privacy be protected? What compliance costs will this impose on businesses? Why is Sen. Chris Dodd putting this provision in a housing bailout bill? The bill also includes the creation of a new national fingerprint registry for mortgage brokers.
"At a time when concerns about both identity theft and government spying are paramount, Congress wants to create a new honey pot of private data that includes Social Security numbers. This bill reduces privacy across America's payment processing systems and treats every American small business or eBay power seller like a criminal on parole by requiring an unprecedented level of reporting to the federal government. This outrageous idea is another reason to delay the housing bailout legislation so that Senators and the public at large have time to examine its full implications."
From the Senate Bill Summary:
Payment Card and Third Party Network Information Reporting. The proposal requires information reporting on payment card and third party network transactions. Payment settlement entities, including merchant acquiring banks and third party settlement organizations, or third party payment facilitators acting on their behalf, will be required to report the annual gross amount of reportable transactions to the IRS and to the participating payee. Reportable transactions include any payment card transaction and any third party network transaction. Participating payees include persons who accept a payment card as payment and third party networks who accept payment from a third party settlement organization in settlement of transactions. A payment card means any card issued pursuant to an agreement or arrangement which provides for standards and mechanisms for settling the transactions. Use of an account number or other indicia associated with a payment card will be treated in the same manner as a payment card. A de minimis exception for transactions of $10,000 or less and 200 transactions or less applies to payments by third party settlement organizations. The proposal applies to returns for calendar years beginning after December 31, 2010. Back-up withholding provisions apply to amounts paid after December 31, 2011. This proposal is estimated to raise $9.802 billion over ten years.
------------------------------------------------------------
There's a line of dialogue from Collateral that springs to mind:
bangbang...bang
Broad, invasive provision touches nearly every aspect of American commerce.
Contact: Adam Brandon
Phone: 202-942-7612
Email: abrandon@freedomworks.org
Washington, DC - Hidden deep in Senator Christopher Dodd's 630-page Senate housing legislation is a sweeping provision that affects the privacy and operation of nearly all of America’s small businesses. The provision, which was added by the bill's managers without debate this week, would require the nation's payment systems to track, aggregate, and report information on nearly every electronic transaction to the federal government.
FreedomWorks Chairman Dick Armey commented: "This is a provision with astonishing reach, and it was slipped into the bill just this week. Not only does it affect nearly every credit card transaction in America, such as Visa, MasterCard, Discover, and American Express, but the bill specifically targets payment systems like eBay's PayPal, Amazon, and Google Checkout that are used by many small online businesses. The privacy implications for America's small businesses are breathtaking."
"Privacy groups like the Center for Democracy and Technology and small business organizations like the NFIB sharply criticized this idea when it first appeared earlier this year. What is the federal government's purpose with this kind of detailed data? How will this database be secured, and who will have access? Many small proprietors use their Social Security number as their tax ID. How will their privacy be protected? What compliance costs will this impose on businesses? Why is Sen. Chris Dodd putting this provision in a housing bailout bill? The bill also includes the creation of a new national fingerprint registry for mortgage brokers.
"At a time when concerns about both identity theft and government spying are paramount, Congress wants to create a new honey pot of private data that includes Social Security numbers. This bill reduces privacy across America's payment processing systems and treats every American small business or eBay power seller like a criminal on parole by requiring an unprecedented level of reporting to the federal government. This outrageous idea is another reason to delay the housing bailout legislation so that Senators and the public at large have time to examine its full implications."
From the Senate Bill Summary:
Payment Card and Third Party Network Information Reporting. The proposal requires information reporting on payment card and third party network transactions. Payment settlement entities, including merchant acquiring banks and third party settlement organizations, or third party payment facilitators acting on their behalf, will be required to report the annual gross amount of reportable transactions to the IRS and to the participating payee. Reportable transactions include any payment card transaction and any third party network transaction. Participating payees include persons who accept a payment card as payment and third party networks who accept payment from a third party settlement organization in settlement of transactions. A payment card means any card issued pursuant to an agreement or arrangement which provides for standards and mechanisms for settling the transactions. Use of an account number or other indicia associated with a payment card will be treated in the same manner as a payment card. A de minimis exception for transactions of $10,000 or less and 200 transactions or less applies to payments by third party settlement organizations. The proposal applies to returns for calendar years beginning after December 31, 2010. Back-up withholding provisions apply to amounts paid after December 31, 2011. This proposal is estimated to raise $9.802 billion over ten years.
------------------------------------------------------------
There's a line of dialogue from Collateral that springs to mind:
bangbang...bang
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
So As I Don't Go Forgetting...
...What I Want To Remember...
Yesterday was part 2 of the last entry. So much I'd like to say, so much I won't.
Yesterday was part 2 of the last entry. So much I'd like to say, so much I won't.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Running
In one week, I went from "average" to "farthest I've ever gone." Last Monday I went 3 miles. That's average. I try to run 2.5-3 miles every day.
Wednesday I ran 4 miles. That's respectable.
Friday I ran 5.5 miles, breaking my longstanding record of 4.5 miles. 77 degrees out, and I wasn't significantly winded at the end. It just felt like it was time to come home.
Saturday I ran 4.5 miles, and felt like dying. I ran my old 4.5 mile route, faster than ever. Got home and was light-headed, dizzy, cold, hot...it took 2 days for my mouth to quit drying out.
And my weight dropped down to 101.5. That's not stable weight loss, a lot of that was liquid. My normal weight is somewhere between 105.5 (ideal) and 107.5.
I'm liking this pushing the boundaries stuff. Gonna have to try it more often.
Wednesday I ran 4 miles. That's respectable.
Friday I ran 5.5 miles, breaking my longstanding record of 4.5 miles. 77 degrees out, and I wasn't significantly winded at the end. It just felt like it was time to come home.
Saturday I ran 4.5 miles, and felt like dying. I ran my old 4.5 mile route, faster than ever. Got home and was light-headed, dizzy, cold, hot...it took 2 days for my mouth to quit drying out.
And my weight dropped down to 101.5. That's not stable weight loss, a lot of that was liquid. My normal weight is somewhere between 105.5 (ideal) and 107.5.
I'm liking this pushing the boundaries stuff. Gonna have to try it more often.
Sunday, June 08, 2008
Friday, June 06, 2008
Rambo 4
THIS is a movie.
Starts with a horribly visceral scene of Karen refugees being shot and blown up by commies. No explanation for it, just "hey, this is what commies do." Worse, the commies seem to be apathetic or happy about it.
Rambo is hired to take a bunch of missionary violence-solves-nothing weiner types up river to a Karen refugee camp. Great line "If you're not taking weapons, you're not gonna change anything."
Predictably, the missionaries are kidnapped by the commies. Rambo is hired again to take a bunch of mercenaries to rescue them. Rambo interrupts another refugee torture session with a bow and a bunch of well-placed arrows, and as soon as you see an arrow come flying through someone's face, you just know this movie is going to set a new record for gore.
Rambo and the mercs infiltrate the commie camp, where the commies are doing all sorts of vile, typically commie things. Rambo rips the throat out of one - awesome scene.
The mercs rescue all but one of the missionaries, and Rambo, the last missionary, and one merc are left to trek back through the jungle. Soon, all of them are being followed by commies, and Rambo dispatches a bunch of them with a claymore and 60yo British Tallboy bomb.
Everybody but Rambo ends up captured, and right before their execution, Rambo decapitates the commie lieutenant, commandeers a truck-mounted .50, and shreds a guy in the front seat. Probably the single most violent scene in all of movie-dom.
The next "5 minutes of .50" are nothing but exploding bodies, gunfire, and death. Fortunately, the majority of the people exploding are commies, so you don't feel bad about cheering.
At the end, just when it seems the head commie is about to get away, Rambo steps out from behind a tree and disembowels him, nearly cutting him in half. Lovely scene.
Yes, this is a simplified, and humorous review. What's important to note is the message behind the movie: There are bad people doing bad things, and the only way to stop them is to kill them. No trying to understand them, no trying to reason with them, trying to civilize the uncivilized (or uncivilizeable), no "we made them this way," no America hating, bashing or blaming. Rambo recognizes evil, and makes it stop in the only way possible.
Col. Cooper has a quote that sums up this movie: An unarmed man can only flee from evil, and evil is not overcome by fleeing.
Now we need to see the next Rambo moved to Pakistan/Iran/Syria/Afghanistan/Iraq where he disembowels and decapitates the thousands of people who do stuff like string up blind boys and beat them to death for failing to learn the Koran.
Starts with a horribly visceral scene of Karen refugees being shot and blown up by commies. No explanation for it, just "hey, this is what commies do." Worse, the commies seem to be apathetic or happy about it.
Rambo is hired to take a bunch of missionary violence-solves-nothing weiner types up river to a Karen refugee camp. Great line "If you're not taking weapons, you're not gonna change anything."
Predictably, the missionaries are kidnapped by the commies. Rambo is hired again to take a bunch of mercenaries to rescue them. Rambo interrupts another refugee torture session with a bow and a bunch of well-placed arrows, and as soon as you see an arrow come flying through someone's face, you just know this movie is going to set a new record for gore.
Rambo and the mercs infiltrate the commie camp, where the commies are doing all sorts of vile, typically commie things. Rambo rips the throat out of one - awesome scene.
The mercs rescue all but one of the missionaries, and Rambo, the last missionary, and one merc are left to trek back through the jungle. Soon, all of them are being followed by commies, and Rambo dispatches a bunch of them with a claymore and 60yo British Tallboy bomb.
Everybody but Rambo ends up captured, and right before their execution, Rambo decapitates the commie lieutenant, commandeers a truck-mounted .50, and shreds a guy in the front seat. Probably the single most violent scene in all of movie-dom.
The next "5 minutes of .50" are nothing but exploding bodies, gunfire, and death. Fortunately, the majority of the people exploding are commies, so you don't feel bad about cheering.
At the end, just when it seems the head commie is about to get away, Rambo steps out from behind a tree and disembowels him, nearly cutting him in half. Lovely scene.
Yes, this is a simplified, and humorous review. What's important to note is the message behind the movie: There are bad people doing bad things, and the only way to stop them is to kill them. No trying to understand them, no trying to reason with them, trying to civilize the uncivilized (or uncivilizeable), no "we made them this way," no America hating, bashing or blaming. Rambo recognizes evil, and makes it stop in the only way possible.
Col. Cooper has a quote that sums up this movie: An unarmed man can only flee from evil, and evil is not overcome by fleeing.
Now we need to see the next Rambo moved to Pakistan/Iran/Syria/Afghanistan/Iraq where he disembowels and decapitates the thousands of people who do stuff like string up blind boys and beat them to death for failing to learn the Koran.
Monday, June 02, 2008
Shooty Goodness
Took the 12gauge, the CZ452, and the Walther 22 out to the range yesterday. Ran through the last of my high-brass birdshot. Got my dad some trigger time with it. He normally doesn't like the higher recoiling guns, but really liked this one. I got a heckuva bruise on my bicep from the gun slipping off my shoulder right before I pulled the trigger.
Ran fifty rounds through the Walther, my dad probably a hundred. Only malfunctioned once, failure to chamber a round after the first shot. Decently accurate too, better than I remember. Minute of man at 45 feet.
I shot the .22 rifle at 50 yards, placing all my shots inside a little grouping about the size of a half dollar. Got to be one big hole such that I could see it from the line. I love a .22 with a scope, and the CZ is high-class quality.
Ran fifty rounds through the Walther, my dad probably a hundred. Only malfunctioned once, failure to chamber a round after the first shot. Decently accurate too, better than I remember. Minute of man at 45 feet.
I shot the .22 rifle at 50 yards, placing all my shots inside a little grouping about the size of a half dollar. Got to be one big hole such that I could see it from the line. I love a .22 with a scope, and the CZ is high-class quality.
Class
A mother in her PJs does yardwork while her stay-over boyfriend does the mowing. Her daughter and her stay-over boyfriend (both of them in PJs) converse in the garage.
Class.
You either have it, or you don't. That is all.
Class.
You either have it, or you don't. That is all.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Sixx A.M. - Accidents Can Happen
Don't give up
It takes a while
I have seen this look before
And it's alright
You're not alone
If you don't love this anymore
I hear that you've slipped again
I'm here 'cause I know you'll need a friend
And you know that Accidents Can Happen
And it's okay
We all fall off the wagon sometimes
It's not your whole life
It's only one day
You haven't thrown everything away
Take some time
And learn to breathe
And remember what it means
To feel alive
And to believe
Something more than what you see
I know there's a price for this
But some things in life you must resist
And you know that Accidents Can Happen
And it's okay
We all fall off the wagon sometimes
It's not your whole life
It's only one day
You haven't thrown everything away
(guitar solo)
I hear that you've slipped again
I'm here 'cause I know you'll need a friend
And you know that Accidents Can Happen
And it's okay
We all fall off the wagon sometimes
It's not your whole life
It's only one day
You haven't thrown everything away
You know that Accidents Can Happen
And it's okay
We all fall off the wagon sometimes
It's not your whole life
It's only one day
You haven't thrown everything away
So don't give up
It takes a while
----------------------------------------------
Don't know why I'm posting this song tonight. What I did wasn't an accident. It's six months in the planning. This just feels like the best song for me tonight, even though there are tons better that I'll be posting.
I quit my job today. I've been working there 2.5 years, I love my work, I get paid decent, and the people there are the only friends I have.
This summer I'm taking an internship and classes at school. Goal is to graduate in December, and this is the only way to do that. The only cost is all my friends and $5000 worth of income, and that pales in comparison to the friends.
I set this up, planned this out with the possibility of become better friends with the people I care about. Strengthen the friendships through distance, and I now see I was more than likely wrong.
It's not your whole life
It's only one day
You haven't thrown everything away
It takes a while
I have seen this look before
And it's alright
You're not alone
If you don't love this anymore
I hear that you've slipped again
I'm here 'cause I know you'll need a friend
And you know that Accidents Can Happen
And it's okay
We all fall off the wagon sometimes
It's not your whole life
It's only one day
You haven't thrown everything away
Take some time
And learn to breathe
And remember what it means
To feel alive
And to believe
Something more than what you see
I know there's a price for this
But some things in life you must resist
And you know that Accidents Can Happen
And it's okay
We all fall off the wagon sometimes
It's not your whole life
It's only one day
You haven't thrown everything away
(guitar solo)
I hear that you've slipped again
I'm here 'cause I know you'll need a friend
And you know that Accidents Can Happen
And it's okay
We all fall off the wagon sometimes
It's not your whole life
It's only one day
You haven't thrown everything away
You know that Accidents Can Happen
And it's okay
We all fall off the wagon sometimes
It's not your whole life
It's only one day
You haven't thrown everything away
So don't give up
It takes a while
----------------------------------------------
Don't know why I'm posting this song tonight. What I did wasn't an accident. It's six months in the planning. This just feels like the best song for me tonight, even though there are tons better that I'll be posting.
I quit my job today. I've been working there 2.5 years, I love my work, I get paid decent, and the people there are the only friends I have.
This summer I'm taking an internship and classes at school. Goal is to graduate in December, and this is the only way to do that. The only cost is all my friends and $5000 worth of income, and that pales in comparison to the friends.
I set this up, planned this out with the possibility of become better friends with the people I care about. Strengthen the friendships through distance, and I now see I was more than likely wrong.
It's not your whole life
It's only one day
You haven't thrown everything away
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Life So Far
My friend came back from the military, and I went shooting with him. He's moving to the southern part of the state, so we'll be seeing more of him this summer.
I got As in all my classes this semester, and didn't expect to. I got $200 back from selling my books, and didn't expect to.
I bought Crysis as a reward for doing so well in school. Lovin' it. That game is awesome.
My plan is coming closer to completion. Something very good and very awful happened on Monday, and...now I have to face the fact that everything I planned to do is happening. It's necessary, but I don't like it one bit.
I've been busy, and will blog more later in the month.
I got As in all my classes this semester, and didn't expect to. I got $200 back from selling my books, and didn't expect to.
I bought Crysis as a reward for doing so well in school. Lovin' it. That game is awesome.
My plan is coming closer to completion. Something very good and very awful happened on Monday, and...now I have to face the fact that everything I planned to do is happening. It's necessary, but I don't like it one bit.
I've been busy, and will blog more later in the month.
Friday, May 09, 2008
Event Horizon
This is the most terrifying movie I've ever seen.
I saw 25 minutes of it on UPN when I was 8 or so. Shut it off and had nightmares for the next week. Finally worked up the courage to rent it 10 or 11 years later, and it still scared the crap out of me.
I just bought it this afternoon, $10 at Best Buy. Still terrifying. Whoever came up with the "hell montages" needs serious professional help.
This movie is a small part of my overall plan.
I saw 25 minutes of it on UPN when I was 8 or so. Shut it off and had nightmares for the next week. Finally worked up the courage to rent it 10 or 11 years later, and it still scared the crap out of me.
I just bought it this afternoon, $10 at Best Buy. Still terrifying. Whoever came up with the "hell montages" needs serious professional help.
This movie is a small part of my overall plan.
Max Payne 2: The Fall Of Max Payne
Procured a copy of this a few days ago, and I've been playing it pretty much every night, usually until about 1 in the morning. Awesome game. Hard-boiled, dramatic, doesn't take itself too seriously. Good combat sequences, graphics are still good...what...seven years later?
If you find it, buy it.
If you find it, buy it.
Saturday, May 03, 2008
Lifehouse - Hanging By A Moment
Desperate for changing
Starving for truth
I'm closer to where I started
Chasing after you
I'm falling even more in love with you
Letting go of all I've held onto
I'm standing here until you make me move
I'm Hanging By A Moment here with you
Forgetting all I'm lacking
Completely incomplete
I'll take your invitation
You take all of me now...
I'm falling even more in love with you
Letting go of all I've held onto
I'm standing here until you make me move
I'm Hanging By A Moment here with you
I'm living for the only thing I know
I'm running and not quite sure where to go
And I don't know what I'm diving into
Just Hanging By A Moment here with you
There's nothing else to lose
There's nothing else to find
There's nothing in the world
That can change my mind
There is nothing else
There is nothing else
There is nothing else
Desperate for changing
Starving for truth
I'm closer to where I started
Chasing after you....
I'm falling even more in love with you
Letting go of all I've held onto
I'm standing here until you make me move
I'm Hanging By A Moment here with you
I'm living for the only thing I know
I'm running and not quite sure where to go
And I don't know what I'm diving into
Just Hanging By A Moment here with you
Just Hanging By A Moment (here with you)
Hanging By A Moment (here with you)
Hanging By A Moment here with you
--------------------------------------------
Exactly four weeks, twenty-eight days from now, I will have made the what I believe will have been the biggest mistake of my life. Bigger than not turning around 3 minutes earlier on my last day of work. Bigger than never asking "her" what her name was, and that's probably the single most galling mistake I can remember.
I don't know what I'm going to be doing, twenty-eight days from right now. Walking home? Running, trying to outrun my decision? Maybe just talking on the phone, and trying to explain this to a person I'm going to owe an explanation to? Part of me wants to walk across the street to the home of an old friend, and take her up on her long-ago invitation to get roaring drunk.
I suspect I'll be sitting here, like I am right now.
Typing.
Having made the smart decision.
Done the right thing.
I'm manipulating the situation right now. Doing everything I can to spin this in my favor. I ran a "long con" once, spent over a year manipulating a situation into one perfect lie that made me feel like crap, saved my brother's relationship with the rest of the family, and screwed up something I had wanted for a long, long time.
I've been planning this since January. Putting the pieces together, figuring out the angles, manipulating the people involved. If I can pull it off, this is going to be the greatest thing I've ever done, and will end perfectly for me. I WANT to do this. It's time for a change, to shake things up, and this is the ONLY way to get what I want.
It does, however, involve some loss of control. And I know what I'm going to do - not what I want to do, I'm going to do what I've always done. The smart thing, the nice thing, the right thing. And I'll hate it, and I'll live with it.
This song rings true for me in several ways, and a couple of lines really stand out to me:
Desperate for changing
Starving for truth
I'm closer to where I started
Chasing after you
I'm falling even more in love with you
Letting go of all I've held onto
...
Forgetting all I'm lacking
Completely incomplete
...
I'm living for the only thing I know
I'm running and not quite sure where to go
And I don't know what I'm diving into
Son of a...this all sounds so emo.
Damn it, I don't care.
27 days to go now.
Starving for truth
I'm closer to where I started
Chasing after you
I'm falling even more in love with you
Letting go of all I've held onto
I'm standing here until you make me move
I'm Hanging By A Moment here with you
Forgetting all I'm lacking
Completely incomplete
I'll take your invitation
You take all of me now...
I'm falling even more in love with you
Letting go of all I've held onto
I'm standing here until you make me move
I'm Hanging By A Moment here with you
I'm living for the only thing I know
I'm running and not quite sure where to go
And I don't know what I'm diving into
Just Hanging By A Moment here with you
There's nothing else to lose
There's nothing else to find
There's nothing in the world
That can change my mind
There is nothing else
There is nothing else
There is nothing else
Desperate for changing
Starving for truth
I'm closer to where I started
Chasing after you....
I'm falling even more in love with you
Letting go of all I've held onto
I'm standing here until you make me move
I'm Hanging By A Moment here with you
I'm living for the only thing I know
I'm running and not quite sure where to go
And I don't know what I'm diving into
Just Hanging By A Moment here with you
Just Hanging By A Moment (here with you)
Hanging By A Moment (here with you)
Hanging By A Moment here with you
--------------------------------------------
Exactly four weeks, twenty-eight days from now, I will have made the what I believe will have been the biggest mistake of my life. Bigger than not turning around 3 minutes earlier on my last day of work. Bigger than never asking "her" what her name was, and that's probably the single most galling mistake I can remember.
I don't know what I'm going to be doing, twenty-eight days from right now. Walking home? Running, trying to outrun my decision? Maybe just talking on the phone, and trying to explain this to a person I'm going to owe an explanation to? Part of me wants to walk across the street to the home of an old friend, and take her up on her long-ago invitation to get roaring drunk.
I suspect I'll be sitting here, like I am right now.
Typing.
Having made the smart decision.
Done the right thing.
I'm manipulating the situation right now. Doing everything I can to spin this in my favor. I ran a "long con" once, spent over a year manipulating a situation into one perfect lie that made me feel like crap, saved my brother's relationship with the rest of the family, and screwed up something I had wanted for a long, long time.
I've been planning this since January. Putting the pieces together, figuring out the angles, manipulating the people involved. If I can pull it off, this is going to be the greatest thing I've ever done, and will end perfectly for me. I WANT to do this. It's time for a change, to shake things up, and this is the ONLY way to get what I want.
It does, however, involve some loss of control. And I know what I'm going to do - not what I want to do, I'm going to do what I've always done. The smart thing, the nice thing, the right thing. And I'll hate it, and I'll live with it.
This song rings true for me in several ways, and a couple of lines really stand out to me:
Desperate for changing
Starving for truth
I'm closer to where I started
Chasing after you
I'm falling even more in love with you
Letting go of all I've held onto
...
Forgetting all I'm lacking
Completely incomplete
...
I'm living for the only thing I know
I'm running and not quite sure where to go
And I don't know what I'm diving into
Son of a...this all sounds so emo.
Damn it, I don't care.
27 days to go now.
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Fun Times Pt. 6
The Fun Times category encompasses those unfortunate events that can be looked back on with anything other than horror. The prowler/burglar that became a flying squirrel chase. The TV turning itself on, prompting myself and my brother to do honest-to-God house-clearing.
------------------------------------------------
Went running yesterday around 4 maybe. Got home, showered, watched an episode of House. I notice out my bedroom window that's it's getting dark. 5:45 sees thunder and distant lightning. I shut my laptop off and unplug it at 6, as thunder and lightning start booming directly overhead.
I go down to the junkroom where my mom is using the computer and feeding the rats. At this point we've got torrential rains to the point where you can't see through the backyard, and the oak trees are waving like palm fronds. The sky is nasal-discharge green.
Mom says "hey, that'd make a good picture" goes to get her camera. Three things happen at once.
1.The back screen door is practically ripped open.
2.The garage door explodes inward (open) and something long flies in.
3.There's the noise of an explosion and all the lights go out.
Mom screams and dives to pull the backdoor closed. It's a fight against the wind. My first thought is "Someone just kicked the door in and I'm on the only end of the house without the appropriate equipment for shooting them." Second thought is a tree fell on the house and a branch came through the ceiling. It is dark as night in the house and I can't tell if there's structural damage, what's going on.
I go shut and lock the garage door. I go shut and lock the back door, run to the other end of the house and grab my Maglite and dad's weather radio. Mom's tripping on shoes and whatever flew in when the door burst open. Doorjam maybe?
I flick the light over the other end of the hallway - it's the curtain rod from over the window in the door. My brother's downstairs, taking a shower, and the next order of business is to get him light. No problem he yells up, there's an emergency light in the bathroom.
I'll expound on emergency lights in a little bit.
It still sounds like the end of the world outside, so we take the rats and the bird downstairs and set them on pool table, and I set about flipping the breakers to see which one will turn the power back on. None of them do. This wasn't a fuse that snapped, this is interruption of power to the house.
Twenty minutes later the worst of the storm is over. We go outside and find a tree branch snapped off, tore the powerlines down in the neighbor's yard. Later we discover that the powerpole in our backyard has been sheared off about five feet from the top, bringing the transformer down. No power for us for a long time. It's probably 7 at this time.
In the meantime we've lit candles, because it is DARK out and in.
We order a pizza and eat, and around 9 my brother and I go and get ice to keep the contents of the downstairs freezer frozen.
The power company gets here about 10:30 and commences wandering through the yards with flashlights, laughing and joking and looking around.
I go to bed in the junkroom around 11:00. The garage door won't close, so the house is pretty much open to whoever wants to come in. If you've ever watched Jericho, you remember the episode Rogue River, which ends with Jake sitting up in his family's livingroom with a shotgun waiting for trouble to show up. That was pretty much me last night.
Power was restored around 4 this morning.
---------------------------------------------------
Power outages are not normal occurances, but they're not alien either. I remember big chunks of the US going dark due to too much traffic on the electric grid a couple summers ago. I remember NY having a similar problem I think just last summer. Those problems lasted long than 10 hours though.
Emergency lights are one of the best things you can have in your house. $5-10 at Menards/Fleet Farm/Home Depot, and they plug into your wall outlets. In the event of an outage, they come on, providing 1-3 hours of constant power. These should be in every room of the house and will provide enough light to get you to a flashlight.
We've got 3 good flashlights, and that's not nearly enough. You should have one flashlight per room, if not more. A decent Maglite will set you back $20, and by my estimate, will provide 4-8 hours of constant power. You should have a decent stock of batteries, and check the flashlights often to see if their batteries are leaking or are running down.
Once you've got the situation assessed, it's time to light candles in the main parts of the house and turn the flashlights off. You should have LOTS of big candles. We've got 8 hurricane candles, which each provide about 16 hours of meager illumination, as well as probably 8 big decorative candles and maybe thirty candles ranging in size from drinking cups down to tea-lights. Candles don't do a very good job of illumination, so you'll need more of them. By my estimate, those eight hurricane candles would've lasted us three nights.
When my brother and I went to Walmart to get ice, I bought 4 packs of chemlights. They're in camping section, Ozark brand. They come 2-3 to a pack, and come in multiple colors. Bend them till they crack and then shake, and they provide strong light for about six hours. I snapped one at 9:30 and it was still going somewhat strong at 4:30. As soon as I pay off the eight shotgun magazines I bought, I'm going to fill a .30cal can with chemlights.
First aid kits should be kept on hand, and should be capable of addressing decently sized wounds. One of the first things my mom did once the storm was over was to go and check on the elderly immigrant couple on the corner, and wound up coming back to get supplies to clean and bandage a medium serious gash on the man's leg that he got from tripping in the dark.
Here's what I keep thinking - we lost power for 10-12 hours. Our main concerns were light, and keeping the stuff in the freezer frozen.
Now imagine it's the middle of summer and the grid goes down because everybody's running 3 airconditioners. Businesses AND houses are dark. No more fans, airconditioners, lights, computers, whatever man, if it's plugged in, it's dead. Now imagine that going 3 or more days. I don't know if that would affect water pumping stations, but I suspect so. Suddenly I don't feel so paranoid. Every population center, major or not, is 24 hours of no power away from a breakdown of social order. We've got about 40 gallons of water downstairs and tons of canned food, and right now it doesn't feel like enough.
Or imagine a major blizzard lasting 3 or 4 days. Ice dragging down powerlines, whiteout conditions making the roads impassible. Such a thing is not unexpected here.
A little hardship, and suddenly, I feel vindicated.
------------------------------------------------
Went running yesterday around 4 maybe. Got home, showered, watched an episode of House. I notice out my bedroom window that's it's getting dark. 5:45 sees thunder and distant lightning. I shut my laptop off and unplug it at 6, as thunder and lightning start booming directly overhead.
I go down to the junkroom where my mom is using the computer and feeding the rats. At this point we've got torrential rains to the point where you can't see through the backyard, and the oak trees are waving like palm fronds. The sky is nasal-discharge green.
Mom says "hey, that'd make a good picture" goes to get her camera. Three things happen at once.
1.The back screen door is practically ripped open.
2.The garage door explodes inward (open) and something long flies in.
3.There's the noise of an explosion and all the lights go out.
Mom screams and dives to pull the backdoor closed. It's a fight against the wind. My first thought is "Someone just kicked the door in and I'm on the only end of the house without the appropriate equipment for shooting them." Second thought is a tree fell on the house and a branch came through the ceiling. It is dark as night in the house and I can't tell if there's structural damage, what's going on.
I go shut and lock the garage door. I go shut and lock the back door, run to the other end of the house and grab my Maglite and dad's weather radio. Mom's tripping on shoes and whatever flew in when the door burst open. Doorjam maybe?
I flick the light over the other end of the hallway - it's the curtain rod from over the window in the door. My brother's downstairs, taking a shower, and the next order of business is to get him light. No problem he yells up, there's an emergency light in the bathroom.
I'll expound on emergency lights in a little bit.
It still sounds like the end of the world outside, so we take the rats and the bird downstairs and set them on pool table, and I set about flipping the breakers to see which one will turn the power back on. None of them do. This wasn't a fuse that snapped, this is interruption of power to the house.
Twenty minutes later the worst of the storm is over. We go outside and find a tree branch snapped off, tore the powerlines down in the neighbor's yard. Later we discover that the powerpole in our backyard has been sheared off about five feet from the top, bringing the transformer down. No power for us for a long time. It's probably 7 at this time.
In the meantime we've lit candles, because it is DARK out and in.
We order a pizza and eat, and around 9 my brother and I go and get ice to keep the contents of the downstairs freezer frozen.
The power company gets here about 10:30 and commences wandering through the yards with flashlights, laughing and joking and looking around.
I go to bed in the junkroom around 11:00. The garage door won't close, so the house is pretty much open to whoever wants to come in. If you've ever watched Jericho, you remember the episode Rogue River, which ends with Jake sitting up in his family's livingroom with a shotgun waiting for trouble to show up. That was pretty much me last night.
Power was restored around 4 this morning.
---------------------------------------------------
Power outages are not normal occurances, but they're not alien either. I remember big chunks of the US going dark due to too much traffic on the electric grid a couple summers ago. I remember NY having a similar problem I think just last summer. Those problems lasted long than 10 hours though.
Emergency lights are one of the best things you can have in your house. $5-10 at Menards/Fleet Farm/Home Depot, and they plug into your wall outlets. In the event of an outage, they come on, providing 1-3 hours of constant power. These should be in every room of the house and will provide enough light to get you to a flashlight.
We've got 3 good flashlights, and that's not nearly enough. You should have one flashlight per room, if not more. A decent Maglite will set you back $20, and by my estimate, will provide 4-8 hours of constant power. You should have a decent stock of batteries, and check the flashlights often to see if their batteries are leaking or are running down.
Once you've got the situation assessed, it's time to light candles in the main parts of the house and turn the flashlights off. You should have LOTS of big candles. We've got 8 hurricane candles, which each provide about 16 hours of meager illumination, as well as probably 8 big decorative candles and maybe thirty candles ranging in size from drinking cups down to tea-lights. Candles don't do a very good job of illumination, so you'll need more of them. By my estimate, those eight hurricane candles would've lasted us three nights.
When my brother and I went to Walmart to get ice, I bought 4 packs of chemlights. They're in camping section, Ozark brand. They come 2-3 to a pack, and come in multiple colors. Bend them till they crack and then shake, and they provide strong light for about six hours. I snapped one at 9:30 and it was still going somewhat strong at 4:30. As soon as I pay off the eight shotgun magazines I bought, I'm going to fill a .30cal can with chemlights.
First aid kits should be kept on hand, and should be capable of addressing decently sized wounds. One of the first things my mom did once the storm was over was to go and check on the elderly immigrant couple on the corner, and wound up coming back to get supplies to clean and bandage a medium serious gash on the man's leg that he got from tripping in the dark.
Here's what I keep thinking - we lost power for 10-12 hours. Our main concerns were light, and keeping the stuff in the freezer frozen.
Now imagine it's the middle of summer and the grid goes down because everybody's running 3 airconditioners. Businesses AND houses are dark. No more fans, airconditioners, lights, computers, whatever man, if it's plugged in, it's dead. Now imagine that going 3 or more days. I don't know if that would affect water pumping stations, but I suspect so. Suddenly I don't feel so paranoid. Every population center, major or not, is 24 hours of no power away from a breakdown of social order. We've got about 40 gallons of water downstairs and tons of canned food, and right now it doesn't feel like enough.
Or imagine a major blizzard lasting 3 or 4 days. Ice dragging down powerlines, whiteout conditions making the roads impassible. Such a thing is not unexpected here.
A little hardship, and suddenly, I feel vindicated.
Patriot's Day
Wrote this for 4/19, and life got in the way of posting it. Here it is, finally.
I want you to imagine a small town. Let’s say it’s in Montana. It’s rural, but not isolated, small but not quaint. The majority of its citizens are churchgoers. The majority of them home school their children. They are doctors and lawyers and shopkeepers and most of them are farmers. They are, without exception, hunters.
The most interesting feature of this town is the fact that most of the men in the town are soldiers. From the age of 16 and on, the boys and men train outside the town as soldiers. Nearly every home in the town has at least one automatic rifle per person, and several of the townspeople possess rocket propelled grenade launchers.
Many of them hold anti-government views. The preachers continually harangue on the topic of taxation. Many of them are upset about perceived government abuses, like redistricting, the importation of foreign troops, and federal investigation of conspiracy theory groups.
In a nutshell, our small town is filled with heavily armed, religious anti-government radicals. Their religious leaders continually reinforce their extreme beliefs, and the parents continually indoctrinate their children in these extreme beliefs as well.
Obviously, the government sees this town as dangerous. It sees this small town as a place where domestic terrorists are born, bred, trained, and constantly reinforced in their beliefs. This town is an American version of Sadr City, it’s newspaper and pulpit the American version of Al-Jazeera. Radicals infest every layer and class of the population.
The federal government decides to defang the radicals in our small Montana town. Generously, they decide not to issue any arrest warrants. Instead, they’ll secure and destroy the heavy weapons like the rocket launchers, and then vacate the town, leaving the townspeople to continue their paramilitary training with their automatic weapons. This is an unprecedented move – if you or I were to possess machine guns without the proper permits, we’d be sent to prison for ten years.
But whatever their reason, federal officials have decided to spare the anti-government radicals in our small Montana town from prison. All they want are the heavy weapons.
They are not going to take any chances however. They send Humvees filled with men, eight hundred of them, to secure the town while the weapons are destroyed. As every able-bodied person, sixteen years of age or older is proficient with military style weapons equal to those possessed by the army, this is not considered overkill. Given the residents familiarity with the area and the extent of their paramilitary training – nearly to same level of proficiency as the soldiers – this is somewhat less than one would recommend.
Around eight in the morning on a crisp spring day, the humvees and troop carriers pull up in the town square and start disgorging the nearly one thousand men. Eighty of the town’s paramilitary group moves into the square, fully armed, to oppose them.
Faced with a threat to his men, the commander of the government force orders the civilians to leave immediately. Sensing the futility of going up against a force ten times larger, the commander of the paramilitary group orders his “soldiers” to withdraw. A few do, and the majority begins to warily fall back.
Suddenly, a shot booms out, and then the violence starts. No one knew who fired first. Men are running, shooting, shouting, and dying. The armed townsfolk, faced with certain death, run for their lives.
Eight of them are left dead on the town square.
Their blood up, the soldiers prepare to storm the houses throughout the town, looking for those who attacked them. Remembering his orders, their commander assembles them and proceeds to carry out his assignment searching peaceably for the rocket launchers and other explosives.
The only violence they employ before leaving the town is to hold the bar owner at gunpoint, whereupon he gives up the location of the illegal weapons. These, and their ammunition are destroyed by the troops.
Then, despite being attacked, despite the seriousness of the crimes for which they’ve been dispatched, they pack up and leave, having harmed no civilians and damaged no one’s legally owned property.
Communications being what they are, the surrounding communities hear about the raid very quickly. Local communities are quite similar, and mobilize their paramilitary forces just as soon as they hear about the federal incursion. They themselves fear being raided, and are considering coming to the aid of our small Montana town.
The highway traveled by federal convoy forces their vehicles to drive through a valley just before a bridge. As the convoy is crossing the bridge, the local paramilitary groups pull up at the out-end of bridge, and along either side of the valley, trapping them.
Faced with armed and threatening men, examples of which had opened fire on them hours earlier, the federal officers open fire. There is no confusion this time, everyone knows it’s the government troops who fired the first shot.
The Montana paramilitary groups open fire on the surrounded men. It’s as close to a massacre as one the federal government has ever faced. On that road, they lose nearly an eighth of their men, and nearly another quarter are wounded.
How would the government respond? How would the media respond? How would the American people respond?
How would you respond?
With praise? With support? With condemnation?
Would you stage a protest? Write a letter to your congressman? Send funds? Hold a candlelight vigil?
Show up with your rifle?
If you support them, praise them openly, drive down to Montana with your deer-rifle in the back seat, ready to defend the town, then you’ve just declared war on the federal government.
If you condemn them, accuse them, you just opposed the start of the first American revolution.
Throughout history, on this day, men and women have shown up with their rifles. They’ve held in their untrained, civilian hands primitive and unsuitable weapons, stared down the guns of better-armed and trained soldiers – more often than not their countrymen – and said –
No.
We are free.
And we would rather die than be anything else.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Militias are defined as civilian soldiers, or all able-bodied civilians capable of bearing weapons in defense of their nation, state, city, or family.
The Massachusetts men standing before the guns of the British military were a militia.
The Southerners standing before the guns of the Northern military were a militia.
The Jews standing before the guns of the Nazi military were a militia.
The Branch Davidians standing before the guns of the American military were a militia.
They were Patriots.
I want you to imagine a small town. Let’s say it’s in Montana. It’s rural, but not isolated, small but not quaint. The majority of its citizens are churchgoers. The majority of them home school their children. They are doctors and lawyers and shopkeepers and most of them are farmers. They are, without exception, hunters.
The most interesting feature of this town is the fact that most of the men in the town are soldiers. From the age of 16 and on, the boys and men train outside the town as soldiers. Nearly every home in the town has at least one automatic rifle per person, and several of the townspeople possess rocket propelled grenade launchers.
Many of them hold anti-government views. The preachers continually harangue on the topic of taxation. Many of them are upset about perceived government abuses, like redistricting, the importation of foreign troops, and federal investigation of conspiracy theory groups.
In a nutshell, our small town is filled with heavily armed, religious anti-government radicals. Their religious leaders continually reinforce their extreme beliefs, and the parents continually indoctrinate their children in these extreme beliefs as well.
Obviously, the government sees this town as dangerous. It sees this small town as a place where domestic terrorists are born, bred, trained, and constantly reinforced in their beliefs. This town is an American version of Sadr City, it’s newspaper and pulpit the American version of Al-Jazeera. Radicals infest every layer and class of the population.
The federal government decides to defang the radicals in our small Montana town. Generously, they decide not to issue any arrest warrants. Instead, they’ll secure and destroy the heavy weapons like the rocket launchers, and then vacate the town, leaving the townspeople to continue their paramilitary training with their automatic weapons. This is an unprecedented move – if you or I were to possess machine guns without the proper permits, we’d be sent to prison for ten years.
But whatever their reason, federal officials have decided to spare the anti-government radicals in our small Montana town from prison. All they want are the heavy weapons.
They are not going to take any chances however. They send Humvees filled with men, eight hundred of them, to secure the town while the weapons are destroyed. As every able-bodied person, sixteen years of age or older is proficient with military style weapons equal to those possessed by the army, this is not considered overkill. Given the residents familiarity with the area and the extent of their paramilitary training – nearly to same level of proficiency as the soldiers – this is somewhat less than one would recommend.
Around eight in the morning on a crisp spring day, the humvees and troop carriers pull up in the town square and start disgorging the nearly one thousand men. Eighty of the town’s paramilitary group moves into the square, fully armed, to oppose them.
Faced with a threat to his men, the commander of the government force orders the civilians to leave immediately. Sensing the futility of going up against a force ten times larger, the commander of the paramilitary group orders his “soldiers” to withdraw. A few do, and the majority begins to warily fall back.
Suddenly, a shot booms out, and then the violence starts. No one knew who fired first. Men are running, shooting, shouting, and dying. The armed townsfolk, faced with certain death, run for their lives.
Eight of them are left dead on the town square.
Their blood up, the soldiers prepare to storm the houses throughout the town, looking for those who attacked them. Remembering his orders, their commander assembles them and proceeds to carry out his assignment searching peaceably for the rocket launchers and other explosives.
The only violence they employ before leaving the town is to hold the bar owner at gunpoint, whereupon he gives up the location of the illegal weapons. These, and their ammunition are destroyed by the troops.
Then, despite being attacked, despite the seriousness of the crimes for which they’ve been dispatched, they pack up and leave, having harmed no civilians and damaged no one’s legally owned property.
Communications being what they are, the surrounding communities hear about the raid very quickly. Local communities are quite similar, and mobilize their paramilitary forces just as soon as they hear about the federal incursion. They themselves fear being raided, and are considering coming to the aid of our small Montana town.
The highway traveled by federal convoy forces their vehicles to drive through a valley just before a bridge. As the convoy is crossing the bridge, the local paramilitary groups pull up at the out-end of bridge, and along either side of the valley, trapping them.
Faced with armed and threatening men, examples of which had opened fire on them hours earlier, the federal officers open fire. There is no confusion this time, everyone knows it’s the government troops who fired the first shot.
The Montana paramilitary groups open fire on the surrounded men. It’s as close to a massacre as one the federal government has ever faced. On that road, they lose nearly an eighth of their men, and nearly another quarter are wounded.
How would the government respond? How would the media respond? How would the American people respond?
How would you respond?
With praise? With support? With condemnation?
Would you stage a protest? Write a letter to your congressman? Send funds? Hold a candlelight vigil?
Show up with your rifle?
If you support them, praise them openly, drive down to Montana with your deer-rifle in the back seat, ready to defend the town, then you’ve just declared war on the federal government.
If you condemn them, accuse them, you just opposed the start of the first American revolution.
Throughout history, on this day, men and women have shown up with their rifles. They’ve held in their untrained, civilian hands primitive and unsuitable weapons, stared down the guns of better-armed and trained soldiers – more often than not their countrymen – and said –
No.
We are free.
And we would rather die than be anything else.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Militias are defined as civilian soldiers, or all able-bodied civilians capable of bearing weapons in defense of their nation, state, city, or family.
The Massachusetts men standing before the guns of the British military were a militia.
The Southerners standing before the guns of the Northern military were a militia.
The Jews standing before the guns of the Nazi military were a militia.
The Branch Davidians standing before the guns of the American military were a militia.
They were Patriots.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Quoted For The TRUTH!
#1)
A young woman was about to finish her first year of college. Like so many others her age, she considered herself to be a very liberal Democrat, and was very much in favor of the redistribution of wealth.
One day she was challenging her father on his opposition to higher taxes on the rich and the addition of more government welfare programs. The self-professed objectivity proclaimed by her professors had to be the truth and she indicated so to her father. He responded by asking how she was doing in school. Taken aback, she answered rather haughtily that she had a 4.0 GPA, and let him know that it was tough to maintain, insisting that she was taking a very difficult course load and was constantly studying, which left her no time to go out and party like other people she knew. She didn't even have time for a boyfriend, and didn't really have many college friends because she spent all her time studying.
Her father listened and then asked, "How is you friend Audrey doing?" She replied, "Audrey is barely getting by. All she takes are easy classes, she never studies, and she barely has a 2.0 GPA. She is so popular on campus, college for her is a blast. She's always invited to all the parties, and lots of times she doesn't even show up for classes because she's too hung over."
Her wise father asked his daughter, "Why don't you go to the Dean's office and ask him to deduct a 1.0 off your GPA and give it to your friend who only has a 2.0. That way you will both have a 3.0 GPA and certainly that would be a fair and equal distribution of GPA."
The daughter, visibly shocked by her father's suggestion, angrily fired back, "That wouldn't be fair! I have worked really hard for my grades! I've invested a lot of time, and a lot of hard work! Audrey has done next to nothing toward her degree. She played while I worked my tail off!"
The father slowly smiled, winked and said gently, "Welcome to the Republican Party."
#2)
I was having lunch with one of my favorite friends last week and the conversation turned to the government's recent round of tax cuts. I'm opposed to those tax cuts,
the retired West coast college instructor declared, because they benefit the rich.
The rich get much more money back than ordinary taxpayers like you and me and that's not fair.
But the rich pay more in the first place, I argued, so it stands to reason that they'd get more money back. I could tell that my friend was unimpressed by this meager argument.
So I said to him, let's put tax cuts in terms everyone can understand. Suppose that every day 10 men go to a restaurant for dinner. The bill for all ten comes to $100. If it was paid the way we pay our taxes, the first four men would pay nothing; the fifth would pay $1; the sixth would pay $3; the seventh $7; the eighth $12; the ninth $18. The tenth man (the richest) would pay $59.
The 10 men ate dinner in the restaurant every day and seemed quite happy with the arrangement until the owner threw them a curve. Since you are all such good customers, he said, I'm going to reduce the cost of your daily meal by $20. Now dinner for the 10 only costs $80.
The first four are unaffected. They still eat for free. [Ah, what a sweet deal that man who cleans the airport urinals for $6 an hour has. He eats for free! Or how about that woman who cleans your hotel room. She, too, eats for free! Except for the payroll tax taken out of their checks and the sales tax they pay. And the tax they pay on their gasoline and their phones if they can afford gas or a phone. Why should the rest of us pay taxes to help educate their kids and provide them with health care? They shouldn’t be allowed to have kids. And if they have them anyway, those kids don’t deserve decent schools and health care. Our first priority has got to be cutting taxes for the top, not providing good schools and health care
to deadbeat six year olds.] Can you figure out how to divvy up the $20 savings among the remaining six so that everyone gets his fair share? The men realize that $20 divided by 6 is $3.33, but if they subtract that from everybody's share, then the fifth man and the sixth man would end up being paid to eat their meal.
The restaurant owner suggested that it would be fair to reduce each man's bill by roughly the same percentage, being sure to give each a break, and he proceeded to work out the amounts each should pay. And so now the fifth man paid nothing, the sixth pitched in $2, the seventh paid $5, the eighth paid $9, the ninth paid $12, leaving the tenth man with a bill of $52 instead of $59.
Outside the restaurant, the men began to compare their savings. I only got a dollar out of the $20, complained the sixth man, pointing to the tenth, and he got $7! Yeah, that's right, exclaimed the fifth man. I only saved a dollar, too. It's unfair that he got seven times more than me!
That's true, shouted the seventh man. Why should he get $7 back when I got only $2? The wealthy get all the breaks! Wait a minute, yelled the first four men in unison. We didn't get anything at all. The system exploits the poor.
The nine men surrounded the tenth man and beat him up. The next night he didn't show up for dinner, so the nine sat down and ate without him. But when it came time to pay the bill, they discovered something important. They were $52 short! And that, boys, girls and college instructors, is how America's tax system works. The people who pay the highest taxes should get the most benefit from a tax reduction. Tax them too much, attack them for being wealthy, and they just may not show up at the table any more.
A young woman was about to finish her first year of college. Like so many others her age, she considered herself to be a very liberal Democrat, and was very much in favor of the redistribution of wealth.
One day she was challenging her father on his opposition to higher taxes on the rich and the addition of more government welfare programs. The self-professed objectivity proclaimed by her professors had to be the truth and she indicated so to her father. He responded by asking how she was doing in school. Taken aback, she answered rather haughtily that she had a 4.0 GPA, and let him know that it was tough to maintain, insisting that she was taking a very difficult course load and was constantly studying, which left her no time to go out and party like other people she knew. She didn't even have time for a boyfriend, and didn't really have many college friends because she spent all her time studying.
Her father listened and then asked, "How is you friend Audrey doing?" She replied, "Audrey is barely getting by. All she takes are easy classes, she never studies, and she barely has a 2.0 GPA. She is so popular on campus, college for her is a blast. She's always invited to all the parties, and lots of times she doesn't even show up for classes because she's too hung over."
Her wise father asked his daughter, "Why don't you go to the Dean's office and ask him to deduct a 1.0 off your GPA and give it to your friend who only has a 2.0. That way you will both have a 3.0 GPA and certainly that would be a fair and equal distribution of GPA."
The daughter, visibly shocked by her father's suggestion, angrily fired back, "That wouldn't be fair! I have worked really hard for my grades! I've invested a lot of time, and a lot of hard work! Audrey has done next to nothing toward her degree. She played while I worked my tail off!"
The father slowly smiled, winked and said gently, "Welcome to the Republican Party."
#2)
I was having lunch with one of my favorite friends last week and the conversation turned to the government's recent round of tax cuts. I'm opposed to those tax cuts,
the retired West coast college instructor declared, because they benefit the rich.
The rich get much more money back than ordinary taxpayers like you and me and that's not fair.
But the rich pay more in the first place, I argued, so it stands to reason that they'd get more money back. I could tell that my friend was unimpressed by this meager argument.
So I said to him, let's put tax cuts in terms everyone can understand. Suppose that every day 10 men go to a restaurant for dinner. The bill for all ten comes to $100. If it was paid the way we pay our taxes, the first four men would pay nothing; the fifth would pay $1; the sixth would pay $3; the seventh $7; the eighth $12; the ninth $18. The tenth man (the richest) would pay $59.
The 10 men ate dinner in the restaurant every day and seemed quite happy with the arrangement until the owner threw them a curve. Since you are all such good customers, he said, I'm going to reduce the cost of your daily meal by $20. Now dinner for the 10 only costs $80.
The first four are unaffected. They still eat for free. [Ah, what a sweet deal that man who cleans the airport urinals for $6 an hour has. He eats for free! Or how about that woman who cleans your hotel room. She, too, eats for free! Except for the payroll tax taken out of their checks and the sales tax they pay. And the tax they pay on their gasoline and their phones if they can afford gas or a phone. Why should the rest of us pay taxes to help educate their kids and provide them with health care? They shouldn’t be allowed to have kids. And if they have them anyway, those kids don’t deserve decent schools and health care. Our first priority has got to be cutting taxes for the top, not providing good schools and health care
to deadbeat six year olds.] Can you figure out how to divvy up the $20 savings among the remaining six so that everyone gets his fair share? The men realize that $20 divided by 6 is $3.33, but if they subtract that from everybody's share, then the fifth man and the sixth man would end up being paid to eat their meal.
The restaurant owner suggested that it would be fair to reduce each man's bill by roughly the same percentage, being sure to give each a break, and he proceeded to work out the amounts each should pay. And so now the fifth man paid nothing, the sixth pitched in $2, the seventh paid $5, the eighth paid $9, the ninth paid $12, leaving the tenth man with a bill of $52 instead of $59.
Outside the restaurant, the men began to compare their savings. I only got a dollar out of the $20, complained the sixth man, pointing to the tenth, and he got $7! Yeah, that's right, exclaimed the fifth man. I only saved a dollar, too. It's unfair that he got seven times more than me!
That's true, shouted the seventh man. Why should he get $7 back when I got only $2? The wealthy get all the breaks! Wait a minute, yelled the first four men in unison. We didn't get anything at all. The system exploits the poor.
The nine men surrounded the tenth man and beat him up. The next night he didn't show up for dinner, so the nine sat down and ate without him. But when it came time to pay the bill, they discovered something important. They were $52 short! And that, boys, girls and college instructors, is how America's tax system works. The people who pay the highest taxes should get the most benefit from a tax reduction. Tax them too much, attack them for being wealthy, and they just may not show up at the table any more.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Uncomfortable
Class today, teacher gave us a list of ten, we were supposed to write down answers to questions she would ask. Answers to be somewhat coded, list just to be 1-10, no explanation. Be honest with yourself, no one's going to ever know what you wrote.
A couple of those questions caused physical pain to hear. And I put down blanks for them. In a coded notebook entry, with no explaining notes, with no one ever to read said entries, I could not write down what I wanted to. Could not even bring myself to THINK what I wanted to put down.
I'm being honest now, I could not be honest with myself. Could not face the thought of committing those answers, however vague or hidden to paper. Hell, to thought.
I don't like that.
How am I supposed to attempt something when I can't bring myself to even think it?
A couple of those questions caused physical pain to hear. And I put down blanks for them. In a coded notebook entry, with no explaining notes, with no one ever to read said entries, I could not write down what I wanted to. Could not even bring myself to THINK what I wanted to put down.
I'm being honest now, I could not be honest with myself. Could not face the thought of committing those answers, however vague or hidden to paper. Hell, to thought.
I don't like that.
How am I supposed to attempt something when I can't bring myself to even think it?
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