Bad Ass of the Week has profiled a little cutie called the “Honey Badger” this week.  Basically, if you gave a rabid Rottweiler PCP and then electro-shocked him into a frenzy, it’d be this little puffball.

Favorite Quote:

He’s a brutal, vicious killer who kicks asses, never backs down, never registers fear, destroys everything in its path and then adorably trots off into the sunset with his prey in his teeth and the severed nutsacks of his enemies still gripped between his dagger-like claws.

 Several  of my favorite sports teams, including the University of North Dakota Fighting Sioux are being pressured to change their names because they might be deemed as offensive.  I say that if the NCAA wants to force a school to change the name of their team after decades of use, then I say using an animal that uses its teeth to de-nut his opponents would be a good choice for a new mascot.

Learned this morning that Fess Parker has died.  When I was growing up, I watched “Davy Crockett” on TV every chance I had, and we played Davy Crockett more than we did Cowboys and Indians.  My mother freaked out when I told her I wanted a flint lock rifle for my birthday when I was 7.  I was probably the last kid in America to get a ‘coon skin cap for Christmas.  Still looking for that flint lock rifle.

I wasn’t aware that after he left acting, he became an entrepreneur and produced some high quality wine.  I’m going to have to look some of that up and see how it goes.  From what I can gather, it’s quite good.

So, Mr. Parker, thanks for representing a great symbol for a young boy who needed it.  I hope you’re in Heaven telling stories with that wonderful drawl and voice. 

Saw our carrot munching four legged neighbors tonight.  It was a doe with two yearlings, probably her fawns from last year.  They were in the yard at the end of our street, having a light snack before dark.  It was light enough that I could see them with the naked eye, but not light enough that the pictures I took with my phone could make them out.

I saw more as I was driving down the highway on my way into town.  Guess they’re out and about now that the food is starting to grow again.

Good to see that the little ones made it through the winter.  Hopefully there will be a good crop this year.

Here’s one for you folks:

When walking through a crowd in Dublin, do not look at your dear Irish Woman of a wife and remark rather loudly “Man, there are a lot of Mics in this country.”

It tends to annoy the locals.

Happy Saint Patrick’s Day!

I hope all of you with a little Irish in you have a good day.  And if you don’t, fake it.

Drown the shamrock one time for everyone who loves you, and twice for those who wish you ill.

The iPad is up for pre-order, with delivery in April.

Want, but not enough to drop a car payment on.  I’ll wait until 2.0 comes out and then re-evaluate.

Speaking of the Supreme Court, a group of workers at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory is suing the government for forcing them to go through an intense background check, including looking at subjects such as their physical and mental health, their financial situation, and even their sexual orientation.  They object to having these aspects of their personal lives pried into by their employer.

I had a clearance when I was in the military.  The initial paperwork weighed in at almost 30 pages, and included questions about my sex life, health, financial situation, and even my political affiliations.

When the government  investigated my background, they spoke to people who never even occurred to me when I started the paperwork. These included my pediatrician, my first grade teacher, and my first priest.

Yes, that’s intrusive and a bit paranoid.  The idea was to check my character and background as far back and as thoroughly as possible in order to accurately assess the risk of giving me access to classified information.

These checks are used more to weed out those who might be tempted or forced to divulge what they know.  The obvious threats of people who want to be hostile spies are easy to find.
If I was a closeted homosexual, then my fear of being exposed could be used as blackmail material.

If I was chronically bad with money, and was deep in debt, it would be easy to tempt me with money to betray the country.

If I was a member of the Communist party, my loyalty to the international struggle against capitalism might trump my loyalty to the country.

These federal employees are being asked to submit to a similar process.  Why?  Because they want to work on projects that can have dual uses.  If you can design a rocket that will deliver a communications sattelite to orbit, you can design a missile that will deliver a nuclear warhead to another continent.  If you work on the design of a surveillance satellite, you know its capabilities and can sell them to the highest bidder.  Even the receptionists and janitors at these facilities need clearances.  Understanding of technology is not necessary if you decide to steal it.

These scientists have no right to work for the government at the JPL or anywhere else.  If they don’t want to go through the process of proving their reliability and stability, they can work somewhere else.  Of course, if you want to work in aerospace research without at least working indirectly for the government, your choice of employers is pretty limited.  But I’ve heard that Richard Branson is hiring.

Hat Tip to Slashdot, the keeper of all news geeky.

The Supreme Court recently agreed to hear a case in which a man whose son’s funeral was picketed and intruded on by a “church” run by some scum named Phelps sued said scum.  Mr. Scum is saying that his rantings are protected 1st Amendment speech, and he shouldn’t be sued for them.

Doing something like this at a Marine’s funeral doesn’t seem to be political speech to me.

There’s been a bit of talk on the blogs that even though Phelps is roundly disliked and no one would cry if he were put into a portapotty and set ablaze, his speech should be protected.  Reminds me of the case back when I was a kid when neo-Nazi’s wanted to demonstrate in a predominantly Jewish city.  The cry then was “If we restrict the speech of one, we restrict the speech of all”.

I kind of agree.  I may hate what Phelps and his followers are spewing, and hope that the Almighty drops a frozen chunk of airliner sewage on his head, but I believe that the state should not do anything to restrict his spewing.

But what if the father of that slain serviceman could walk over to Phelps and his followers and demand satisfaction on the field of honor?  LawDog discusses the 18th century understanding of dueling and how it was a way for people other than the government to curb such antics.

Would Phelps and morons like him think twice about making a general nuisance of themselves if they knew that the people they were insulting could force them to put up or shut up with their own life?

If screaming “God Hates Fags!” at a family that is mourning the loss of their son could get you shot, stabbed, or beaten to death, would you stop bothering people at the funeral of their child?

Would the streets run red with the blood of the annoying?  Maybe.  But if being impolite or insulting becomes a potential death sentence, then maybe society would become more civil.  And families that are already mourning the violent death of their son or daughter could mourn in peace. 

Over at This Aint Hell, there is a discussion about the high cost of an education in the US, and specifically about how there is a large portion of the population that think that higher education should be cost-free.  The author reports that at one point he was told that his GI Bill benefits were just welfare.  I’ve heard that before. 

When I was attending college after I left the Army, several of my classmates expressed similar feelings.  These young people still received checks from mumsy and dadsy every month, drove cars paid for by their parents, and were regularly absent from class because they were spending mom and dad’s money on beer instead of studying.  And they always whined when their Pell Grant money was a couple of days late.

I found a way to shut down the conversations when I blurted out that the money I got every month from my investment in the GI Bill was repayment for all of the crap that I had done while in the Army.  And if they wanted some, they were welcome to get a haircut, show some guts, and take the oath of enlistment.  Until then, they were nothing more than leaches on the butt of society.

I got a reputation as being “hard to approach”.  Qel Surpris.

Once a month, money was put into my bank account by the government in repayment for the 9 years worth of bad hours, forced labor, cold food, crappy co-workers, and time away from everyone I loved.

Every month, I’d look at my statement, and think “This one pays for X”, where X was something like:

• those 3 days I spent laying in a snow bank watching a road
• eating MRE’s for 35 days straight because my captain thought a field kitchen was for wimps
• the 63 days in a row that I went without a shower and eventually bathed myself by rubbing newly fallen snow on my bare skin to get some of the funk off
• almost getting shot by a moron who turned his rifle sideways across the firing line and banged it on the ground to clear a failure, thereby shooting a 5.56mm bullet between my elbow and my nose while I was in the firing position next to him

Eventually, I graduated, and I feel that I’m paid in full for those 9 years.

The benefits that veterans get are paid for in blood, sweat, and heartache.  Anyone who feels differently ought to man up and enlist so that they can have an informed opinion.

Robert Heinlein – “Writing is not necessarily something to be ashamed of, but do it in private and wash your hands afterwards.”

I’ve been writing since I was very young.  A lot of it amounts to not much more than navel gazing or spleen venting.  I try to keep a lot of both off of this page.

I try to keep things fun here, and when I’m serious about something, I want it to be something that readers will think is important too.

For your sake, I try to not let this become a surrogate Facebook page.  If I ever go that route, please let me know.  I may need an intervention.