• Archives

  • Topics

  • Meta

  • The Boogeyman - Working Vacation
  • Coming Home
  • Via Serica

We shoot mad dogs, don’t we?

The scumbag who robbed a pharmacy in New York and while doing so murdered four people, including two people that he ambushed after they came into the store in the middle of his crime, has been sentenced to life without the possibility of parole.  His wife, who drove the car for the robbery and murder, has been sentenced to 25 years in prison.

This trash blamed his wife’s ‘need’ to take massive amounts of prescription drugs, including hydrocodone, for this outrage.  He also maintains that he shot his first victim when the gun he used in the robbery went off accidentally, then apparently he just followed through.  By following through, I mean he went and found the other employee at the store, murdered her, then stalked and executed two other people who entered the store.

Hey, jerkoff, no gun goes off ‘accidentally’.  I’m probably taking a very simplistic view of this, but if you don’t hold up a pharmacy, you don’t take a chance on ‘accidentally’ shooting the pharmacist.  If you didn’t want to shoot anyone else, then you didn’t have to.  Even assuming that the first murder was ‘accidental’, which I don’t buy for a moment, you still, in cold blood, ended the lives of three non-threatening people who just happened to be in a place they had every right to be in at the same time that you were.

The gun didn’t magically start shooting people all by itself.  Your wife didn’t ‘need’ all of the drugs you stole.  You aimed the pistol and pulled the trigger of your own volition, and I will never be convinced that you didn’t plan on doing it that way to begin with.  Your wife either chose to start taking that crap in the first place as a recreational activity, or she didn’t do what was necessary to get off of it after using it for some truly therapeutic reason.  Either way, no-one but you two wastes of good protoplasm are to blame for the shattering of four families.  Not the gun, not the drugs, and not the doctors who prescribed them.

Personally, I hope they stick you both in the third sub-basement of some old, stone building, and you spend the rest of your very long lives listening to the roaches in the walls.  It’s still better than you deserve, but Death by Duracell wasn’t prescribed by the law in this case.  If there ever was a case that made me wish for public, gruesome executions, it’s this one.

Memories

  • The bite of gravel into my palms as I did my best to push Missouri back into the ground, along with 200 of my closest friends
  • The feeling of accomplishment the first time I qualified expert on the M-16
  • The rush I got the first time I did an Australian rappel
  • Sunset at the Asilomar
  • Coming out of the building in Augsburg and realizing I hadn’t seen the sun in 6 weeks
  • The sound of a little girl crying because I had told her her mother hadn’t survived
  • Sunrise over the Chiracahuas
  • 6 inches of snow in an hour over a convoy of diplomatic cargo in Russia
  • Laying in a snowbank on top of Mount Vis
  • The color and smell of the earth in that field near Mostar
  • Watching young soldiers learn what my team was teaching them
  • Night driving my track
  • The taste of red dirt on four continents.  Seriously, did the Corps of Engineers do a study to find all of the places on earth where there is red clay just so they could send me to visit all of them?
  • The weight of the hanger on the day I hung up my uniform for the last time

Thought for the Day

A 3 year old boy and a Labrador retriever, left alone with a pepperoni pizza, are up to no good if they are suddenly quiet.

Shameful

The Air Force has reported that, at least for a time, some of the cremated remains of servicemembers killed overseas ended up in landfills.  These include parts of bodies that cannot be identified or those that families preferred to have the DOD take care of.

Basically, the remains were cremated, then put into containers, and handed over to a landfill company for disposal.  The company, by the way, denies knowing that the remains were in the materials it disposed of.

This shameful way of handling the ashes of our fallen soldiers has been replaced with a simple burial at sea by the Navy, which is, in my humble opinion,  much more fitting than being thrown in the heap with the old banana peels and kitty litter.

The military says that this practice ended in 2008, and a full investigation has caused the disciplining of several workers at Dover Air Force Base, where the military runs its main mortuary service for the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. 

My question is this:  What in the hell was the leadership at DOD and Dover thinking?  I wouldn’t send the ashes of my dog to the landfill, much less that of another human being, regardless of whether or not it’s a soldier.  We owe all of our soldiers, sailors, airmen, and Marines a debt much higher than we can ever fulfill, and these actions spit on that debt. 

The military and civilian ‘leaders’ who thought this was an acceptable way to dispose of these remains need to be pilloried publicly.  Those who are entrusted with the bodies of our fallen, no matter how high in the command structure they are, need to be reminded that their burden is a sacred one.  Every man and woman who serves needs to know that their body  will be treated with respect at all times.

Remember

Thoughts on the Day

Just got back from another evening defending Jihadistan from the forces of democracy.  Here are a few things that occurred to me:

  • The American way of fighting a war isn’t even remotely fair to the other side, and I’m perfectly OK with that.
  • The old adage about bringing a knife to a gunfight has nothing on “Don’t bring a paintball gun to a gunfight”.
  • I’m not the first to say this, but friendly fire isn’t.
  • Snipers are sneaky bastards. 
  • Nothing says “Keep your head down” like catching a round right in your eye protection.
  • To the jackass who decided to strap a laser pointer to his paintball gun and earned us all an butt-chewing by the guy in charge of the training about realism, I hope that this first experience will be your last.
  • I’m bruised and hurting, but it’s a good hurt.  I hope that the guys who were training tonight will be better prepared to do their jobs and come home safe.
  • On this Veteran’s Day, I was reminded of just how lucky I am to have men and women such as I have met at Fort Knox manning our walls and guarding our keeps.  

Another One Leaves the White House

Reggie Love, President Obama’s personal aide and dog robber, has announced that he will be leaving the White House shortly.  This begs the question:  Now that his personal assistant has quit, who will be sitting in the Love seat for President Obama?

Thank you, I’ll be here all week.  Tip your wait staff.

Seriously, though, a lot of people are walking away from the current administration a year before the election.  Either the president wants to shake out his staff so he can try to have a gang buster year going into the election, or their spidey sense is telling them to jump ship while they can.

Cookware Thoughts

Fox News is discussing five myths about cast iron pots and pans, including whether or not to use soap to clean them, and whether or not cooking with cast iron adds nutrients to your food.

At Casa de Oso, we cook a lot in our cast iron pans.  We mostly use two griddles, one large and one small, and a couple of frying pans, but we also have large dutch ovens and a few saucepans.  We are forever in the hunt for a large frying pan for making fried chicken like Irish Woman remembers seeing used as a child.  Nothing says “I love you” in Kentucky like a big cast iron pan full of hot lard and spiced chicken parts.

I prefer cast iron for sauteing and frying foods over the aluminum cookware we have.  We have to use so much more oil to keep things from sticking to the aluminum and it’s so much more work to clean the shiny pans that it’s just not worth it.  And aluminum cookware just doesn’t have the soul that a good, well-used, black cast iron pan does.

One thing I can tell you – a teenage boy, who is doing dishes against his will, takes his life in his own hands when he loads his step-mom’s cast iron skillet and griddle in the dishwasher and turns it on.  Luckily we caught it before it got beyond the ‘pre-wash’ cycle, but he was banished from the kitchen for a while.  It took us an entire day to reseason those pans.

Also, contrary to popular belief, a cast iron frying pan does not make a very good weapon.  The two foot by one foot cast iron griddle with big handles on either end makes a much better flail or club, and it also makes a dandy shield. 

A cast-iron dutch oven is a wonderful cooking implement for camping, especially for those who want charcoal ash in their cobbler after the kids start taking the lid off to get a second helping.

And finally, the proper way to get stuck-on food off the bottom of a cast iron pan is to boil water in it for a few minutes, then scrape it out and reseason as necessary.  It is not to fill it about 1/3 of the way up with camp fuel and burn out the scraps.  Remember folks, behind every pyromaniac is a Boy Scout leader with bandages and a shovel full of dirt.

Alex, I’ll take Inflation for $100, please

USA Today is reporting that the cost of a typical American Thanksgiving dinner is going up by about 13% this year.  They blame the cost of the commodities to make the meal.  Apparently inflation isn’t just the name of the Armenian guy down the street anymore

But you can’t ask the Fed about it, because they don’t include food or energy in the inflation numbers.  Why would we need to track how much more expensive it is to put food on the table and gas in the car when we’re talking about the economic health of the nation?  It looks better if we know that the cost of things like automobiles and such hasn’t gone up that much.

Kids, if you’re not making sure you’ve got enough groceries in your larder to get you through a few months of tough times, I suggest you start doing it now.  I’m not sure there will be shortages of food, but I’m pretty sure the price for the necessities is going to keep going up for the foreseeable future, and I’d rather give up some shelf space in the basement for food now than to have to ration out what I can buy later.

I don’t prep for TEOTWAWKI, not really anyway.  I can’t afford to put back several years worth of flour, sugar, canned food, and rice without going into debt to do it, and I don’t have much hope of moving much further away from a large city than I am now.*  I see a total inability for the nation to feed itself as a “low risk, high impact” kind of event.  If it happens, we’re in deep kimchi, but I see other scenarios as being more likely:

  • Natural disasters that shut down food distribution for days or weeks
  • Loss of a job by either Irish Woman, me, or both
  • Civil disturbance followed by the inevitable clampdown 
  • Inflation that makes it difficult or impossible to afford the basics of life

Of all of these, I worry most about loss of jobs/income and inflation.  My guess is that those two would come together, which can only make a bad situation worse.  My strategy is to stock up as much of the basics as I can, and be prepared to hunker down with wife, kids, family, and neighbors until things get better.

The basics of life as I see it are clean water, adequate calories and nutrition, warmth, shelter, and security. 

Clean water we take care of by having a water source (two streams) within easy walking distance from the house, a way to transport and store the water without using fuel that will carry enough for a day or two, a water filter, and several gallons of plain old chlorine bleach.  Plus, we have the old cistern system on the house, and it would take about a day to hook it back up to the gutters and such, clean out the cistern, and then all we have to do is pump or dip it out, then purify it.

As for food, we shop sales, buy in bulk, and store enough good, solid food to keep us going for a few months without needing too many inputs.  We can stretch that for quite a while by having inputs from gardens, hunting, fishing, and bartering if necessary.

Shelter is pretty good for us too.  It’ll take a lot to get us to abandon Casa de Oso and become refugees, and we have agreements and plans with family and friends for that event. 

For warmth, I’ve got one heck of a good wood burning fireplace, and a house that can be effectively heated by it.  I need to lay on some more firewood, but I can make a cord or two of firewood keep us warm and cook food for a couple of months if I have to, which is enough time to go get more.

Security I’ve got taken care of, both in the family and in my little community.  One good thing about living in the semi-country:  lots of veterans, lots of guns, and a lot of people who don’t put up with nonsense when it comes to crime.  For health security, we have plenty of preventive measures (soap, sanitizer, cleaners, vitamins) and we keep several good first aid kits and medicine kits in the house at all times.  I can’t do surgery, and I pity the fool that needs me to stitch up a cut, but I’m above the bandaid stage.

Of course, I can always improve my efforts, and I do so every chance I get.  Maybe it’s another box of .22 put back for shooting rabbits and trading, or another case of food or big bag of flour set back against lean times, or it’s more bridge building with my neighbors so that we have a support network, but we’re doing everything we can to not get swamped by the wave that I truly believe is about to break across our nation.

I hope that all of these preparations are like the fallout shelter we had in our backyard in North Dakota, and it just becomes my collection of junk for the kids to go over once I’m gone.  But I’d rather be remembered as the old coot who prepared for something that didn’t happen than be the guy whose kids went hungry because the Kroger wanted $150 for a pound of flour.

*Not to say that I’m not working towards that goal.  I just can’t afford to drop a few thousand dollars on buckets of food and a new farmstead right now.  Slow and steady will get me there eventually, and the worst that happens is that I have a nice place to move to once the kids are out of the house and enough food to stay off the dole once I’m too old to work.

This one comes with a story. 

Junior’s mother is a Gordon Lightfoot fan.  Not sure how she ended up that way, but it is what it is.  We all have our crosses to bear, and hers are Gordon Lightfoot, Adam Ant, and Elton John.  How she ended up with me music wise is still a mystery.

Anyway, when she went into labor with Junior, I had a cassette player and a set of small speakers with me in The Bag.  The two cassettes I remembered to bring with me were Lightfoot’s greatest hits album, and Dr. Feelgood by Motley Crue.  We didn’t want to disturb the other patients, so we went with Lightfoot.  We had that tape on automatic flip, so it played over and over during the hours of labor.  Junior was born just as the chorus to this one came up for what I thought must have been the 50th time.  I haven’t been able to listen to Gordon Lightfoot since then without cringing.

Also, today is the anniversary of the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald, so I thought I’d share.