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Quote of the Day

First they came for the blacks, and I spoke up, even though I wasn’t.

Then they came for the gays, and I said that was wrong.

Then they came for the dissenters and protesters, and I decried it, because everyone’s voice should be heard.

Then they came for the gun owners, and the mock “liberals” hung us out to dry.

So when they come for your group, you can eat shit and die.

 — Michael Z. Williamson on FaceBook this morning

 

Musings

  • Apparently the list of major players who plan on attending the Eastern Sports and Outdoor Show is dwindling by the day.  I wonder what they’ll do when the hall is almost empty and no-one is buying tickets?
  • Outgoing Secretary of State Hillary Clinton apparently lost a little of her normally placid public demeanor today when she finally dragged her bloated carcass across the threshold to the Senate Foreign Relations committee’s chamber.
    • Here’s a hint, Mrs. Clinton – it matters what happened, even at this late date, because you and your boss are either evil or incompetent.  If you’re evil, you knew that an attack was imminent and withheld security forces, thereby feeding our ambassador to a mob, then blamed an American citizen for the actions of a bunch of 12th century goat pimps.  If you’re incompetent, then you should have known that something was up, mostly due to Ambassador Stevens telling you that something was about to happen, and did nothing out of willful ignorance, then thought that some idjit’s bad YouTube was to blame and that we’d all buy that story.  So which is it?
    • You know how I predicted that the 2016 presidential campaign would start soon after the end of the 2012 election?  I think today was the opening kickoff.  Mrs. Clinton has got to have her eye on that prize, and tried to look professional and compassionate while berating Republican Senators for doing their job.  The way that Rand Paul went after her and talked about how he would have canned her loathsome behind had he been in charge leads me to believe that he is giving serious thought to 2016.
  • Tonight, I found that one cannot use a 10 inch long cordless drill with a 3 inch long screwdriver attachment on it to screw in 3 inch screws in an 8 inch area.  Oh well, I now have an excuse to buy a pocket electric screwdriver.
  • It is amazing how quickly the list of possible root causes for a problem starts to shorten when you convince your co-workers that repeatedly attempting to do the thing that is failing without changing anything is not going to help you find out what the problem is.
  • I swear, I must spend half of my recreational time walking around the house turning off lights.
  • After looking at the local stores and the on-line retailers this evening, I’m really glad I bought all that .22 last summer.
  • I have been advised that I should not teach Boo to recite Monte Python routines.  I never get to have any fun.
  • I am this close to offering to store ammunition, magazines, and weapons for people in occupied states so that they don’t have to sell them off or turn them in while the NRA and SAF work their cases through the courts.

Today’s Earworm

News Roundup

  • From the “Speed Hump” Department – A man in Utah was cited by the authorities after he used a camel as a prop in a stunt to promote his film.  Apparently it’s illegal to obstruct traffic while riding a camel in Park City, which is a pretty obscure law to keep on the books if you ask me.  Look for his remake of “Ishtar” to hit theaters next summer.
  • From the “Sometimes They Write Themselves” Department – The British government has discovered the cause of a noxious odor that has swept the country.  It is France.  A chemical plant on the French coast had a  leak of chemicals the other night, and the plume of vapor it created has made its way across the Channel.  The odor is reported to resemble garlic, sweat, and rotten eggs, or as anyone who’s been to France can tell you, it smells like Paris in July.
  • From the “Kick the Can” Department – Leadership in the House of Representatives is planning on holding a vote on Wednesday that would suspend enforcement of the current cap on government debt for several months, ostensibly to give lawmakers more time to negotiate a deal on spending and revenue.  You know, like the last time we bumped up against the debt ceiling, and the time before that, and the time before that, and the time before that.  Honestly, it must be nice to pass a law that is supposed to force you to get your act together, then pass another law that says you can just ignore the other law.  Hey, last one out of the economy, please shut off the lights.
  • From the “Red Herring” Department – A teenager in New Mexico is being held without bond after killing his parents and younger siblings.  Apparently, he had been angry and suicidal for quite some time, and was heavily into violent video games.  You know, I grew up playing video games, Dungeons and Dragons, and war games in the woods with my friends.  Not once did I ever consider executing my family or killing a bunch of strangers.   Now, I’ve played a few of these more modern, more graphically violent video games, and I can see how they might desensitize someone to bloodshed, but I’m not sure they’re the root cause of all this.  I hate to use parenting as a crutch, because I tend to keep coming back to it, but if your teenage boy is having emotional problems, wouldn’t you take away the video games?  It’s really not that difficult.  You tell Precious J. Snowflake “No”, you make it stick, and if they try to go around you, you drop the hammer on them.  At the same time, you get them help, be a supportive but firm parent, and find them something constructive to do.  Is that so hard?
  • From the “Simple Solution” Department – McDonald’s restaurants in Michigan are paying $700,000 to settle a lawsuit over halal meat.  Apparently, the restaurants had advertised that their chicken products were halal, but sold non-halal meat when the good stuff ran out.  Now, I’m no Islamic scholar, but I’m pretty sure that it doesn’t matter how the animal was killed and processed if it was prepared in a kitchen that is also used to cook bacon.  Trust me, there isn’t a molecule of food that comes out of your average McDonald’s that hasn’t come in contact with bacon or bacon grease.  Here’s my solution to the problem:  If you have dietary restrictions that should preclude you from eating off the standard menu at a restaurant, any restaurant, then STOP EATING THERE!  If there are a significant number of people with your need or preference, then someone will catch the hint and provide fare that meets your standards. SuperHugeMegaFoodCorporation probably won’t care about it, but I’m sure that a small business would be more than happy to find a way to accomodate you.   Of course, McDonald’s shouldn’t be falsely advertising, but that’s more of a ‘ridicule in public’ thing than a ‘litigate in court’ thing to me.  If Soylent  McNuggets aren’t halal, tell the imam, publish it in the newsletter, and get on with your life.

Thoughts on the Weekend

  • Apparently a fun time was had by all at the dance.  Girlie Bear and the young man who accompanied her both seemed quite whooped when I picked them up.
  • Getting up at 6 AM was rather difficult for Girlie Bear this morning.  Hopefully she learns at an early age she can’t rise and shine if she’s out to all hours of the night.
  • I began construction of the new bathroom closet this afternoon.
    • I’m about halfway done in constructing components.
    • I hope to be at the “trim and paint” stage by next weekend.
    • Ran out of time, light, and lumber.  Oh well, I had to go to the lumber yard anyway.
  • Going to a pet store in a bad neighborhood is not worth the time saved by lining up errands with the trip across town to take Girlie Bear to visit her mother.
    • Holding a 40 pound bag of dog food in my left hand while walking to my truck so that my right hand is free for emergencies means I shouldn’t have gone there to buy dog food in the first place.
  • For breakfast this morning, Irish Woman made biscuits and gravy with hash browns.   Dinner was chicken and dumplings.  Dessert was yellow cake with homemade caramel fudge icing.
    • I think she’s trying to fatten me up for the kill.
    • I will, however, die happy.
  • Temperatures this weekend were about 60 degrees. The weatherlady is saying it’s supposed to be in the teens in the next couple of days.  My bones say she’s right.
    • Every time I move, it sounds like someone stepping on a bag of corn flakes.
  • Irish Woman explained her plans for the garden to me today.  Looks like I’m building more beds and digging out more clay.
    • Oh well, at least she told me in January.  Last year I got the briefing in April.

Today’s Earworm

 

Boo didn’t think this was very funny when I started singing it tonight when he was a bit whiny.  Oh well, he’ll think it’s funny in a couple of decades when he sings it to his kids.

A Barbarian’s Daughter

The Lady of Eyre gazed down upon her husband’s dressing table.  Arrayed there were his best war kilt, his battle-scarred shirt of leather and ring armor, two daggers, a short mace, and an ancient battle-axe that bore the signet of the Minivandian clan.

“My love,” she asked, “what exactly are you doing?”

DaddyBear the Minivandian looked up from the stone he was running along the blade of Gnarlthing.  “My darling wife, I am preparing to avenge the honor of my daughter.” he growled from beneath heavy brows.

“Her honor?  But she has not lost her honor!” said the Lady of Eyre, a look of surprise upon her face.

“There is a code, woman, and the young knave who broke her heart also broke that code.”  said the Minivandian, his rough hands gently testing the edge of his sword, “‘If thou makest mine daughter weep, then I shall make thee weep.’ I did not write the code; I am only subject to it, and so is he.”

“Oh wonderful father and comical husband, put up that blade!  Listens to Stories has already called upon Adama of the Hoosier clan to escort her to the ball.  He has accepted the offer, so there is no harm done to her.  Besides, what has already been done to the young man who disappointed her is much worse than you could do with such crude instruments.” said the Lady of Eyre, a glint of lightning crossing her jade eyes.

“Eh?  What do you mean?  Has an accident befallen the fool?”  said DaddyBear as he guided Gnarlthing into its scabbard.

“Why, I only told the Young Prince the name and location of the boy who toyed with his sister’s affections.  I am guessing that something rather ugly, but probably less than fatal, is about to happen to him.” said the Lady of Eyre, an impish grin crossing her delicate visage.

“Lord have mercy, the poor bastard will be lucky to only come out of it with an affliction that lasts a month.  Which reminds me.  Remind me to instruct our son on the concept of mercy before he can get his curse complete.”  said DaddyBear.

“Yes, my love, I shall.  He must learn to control his temper and not actually harm those who wrong him or his kin.  Now, put up those weapons and get out more appropriate clothes.  Adama of the Hoosiers might as well be one of our own children, and there is no need for such things with him.” said the Lady of Eyre as she reached into the Minivandian’s trunk.

“Adama?  A fine lad.  He is a much better choice to escort our daughter to her ball this night.” grunted DaddyBear.

The Lady of Eyre laid out a new set of clothing for her husband and left him to change into them.  She also bade him to come to the great hall within the quarter-hour, as Listens to Stories would be ready to be taken to the home of the Hoosiers to retrieve young Adama and thence to the ball.

My Lord Daddybear changed into the clothing his wife had selected for him and headed to the great hall.  There, he met the aunts and grandmother of Listens to Stories, who had all gathered to see the young princess as she wore a lady’s gown for the first time.  Upon the hour, a hush fell over the room as the aunt closest to the portal to the chamber of Listens to Stories hissed that she was coming.   The Lady of Eyre slipped her hands up onto the eyes of the Minivandian and whispered a spell.  As she heard Listens to Stories enter the hall, she pulled her hands away.

DaddyBear the Minivandian beheld his daughter as she had been the day that he first allowed her to run and play with her brothers.  Her tresses were held up in two braids which the Minivandian had done himself.  Her clothing was of the same rough cloth as worn by the boys, with the only feminine touch being two embroidered wildflowers on the shirt.  Upon her feet were sandles made with the leather of a vermicious knid, which she would wear for three summers before even their unbelievable toughness could not withstand constant scuffing, kicking, climbing, and fighting.

As my Lord DaddyBear marvelled at the beauty of his young child, she changed before his eyes.  The auburn braids lengthened and brought themselves up into a woman’s styled hair.  She grew longer and leaner.  Her gap-toothed grin changed into a radiant smile of bright white teeth.   Her raiment changed from rough denim to draped purple silk, accented with a brooch of the finest firestones.

DaddyBear the Minivandian beheld his daughter as the young woman she had become.  Gone was the chubby tomboy of bygone years.  That little girl had been replaced with a beautiful young lady; strong, yet elegant; youthful, but not childlike.   DaddyBear  felt a twinge of fear in his heart as he realized that while he would always have his daughter, he would never have his little girl again.

The aunts and the Lady of Eyre fussed over Listens to Stories as they adjusted the dress and her hair.  Many compliments were made on her appearance and ability to walk in the shoes she and the Lady of Eyre had purchased for the evening.  Through all of this, the Minivandian sat upon his chair, contemplating just how many weapons and men at arms he would need in the coming years.

Stepping before her father, Listens to Stories turned to allow him to see how the dress fit.  He noted that it was modest without being overly conservative, pretty without being flashy, and to her father’s jaundiced eye, crushingly pretty.  Nodding his approval, he grunted “It will suffice.  Mind that you do not dance too vigorously this night, for that dress might not survive it.”

Listens to Stories, now grown to a young woman, wrapped her arms around her father.  “You are my favorite father.” she intoned the greeting she had shared with him her entire life.

“I am your only father, but thank you for the thought.” intoned the Minivandian, “You are my favorite daughter.”

“I am your only daughter, but thank you for the thought.” replied Listens to Stories, finishing the greeting and reminding DaddyBear that she would always be his little girl.

Then did the Minivandian place Listens to Stories into SilverRust, his mighty steed, and convey her to the manor of the clan of the Hoosiers.  Retrieving young Adama, who was fitted out in his best suit of clothes, they continued their journey to the hall of festivals.  Leaving Listens to Stories and Adama there to enjoy their evening, my lord DaddyBear returned to his home, there to spend the evening in quiet conversation with his wife and the aunts.

Much merriment was made by Listens to Stories that evening, and for many years did she look back on her first night as a young woman.  DaddyBear also looked back on that night, and it never failed to bring a smile to his noble countenance.  Many times did he see his daughter dressed for a festival, and many young men did he greet and judge over the years, until finally she found one who could look the Minivandian in the eye and was not afraid to take him up on his offer of sparring with blunted swords and axes while Listens to Stories finished her preparations.  That young man was enthusiastically received into the clan of the Minivandians, and DaddyBear later enjoyed many grandchildren with auburn hair and their mother’s easy smile.  Many adventures did Listens to Stories have in her own time, some with her father, but most as a warrior in her own right.  But those are stories for another time.  Now, let me tell you tales of high adventure…..

A Reply From My Representative

This is the response to the emails about gun legislation that I sent to  Congressman Thomas Massie, who became my Representative after redistricting last year.  I must say, I’m happy to hear what he has to say.  It’s much better than what I would have gotten from Yarmuth.

Dear Mr. DaddyBear,

Thank you for contacting me about the Second Amendment. I appreciate hearing from you.

On December 14, 2012, our nation experienced an unspeakable tragedy in Newtown. My thoughts and prayers go out to the victims, as well as to their families and loved ones. Now is the time to reflect on how we can best prevent acts like this in a way that does not violate our Second Amendment rights.

In response to this tragedy, several pieces of legislation are expected to be introduced in the 113th Congress by gun control advocates. For example, Democratic Senator Dianne Feinstein has already announced her plan to introduce a renewal of the “assault weapons” ban.

President Obama has announced his own gun control agenda.   His plan calls for various legislative proposals and threatens to implement twenty-three “executive actions.” These include the passage of a federal gun trafficking law, and background checks on all gun sales. I oppose such gun control proposals because they are unconstitutional, and they do not keep Americans safe.

I will work vigorously to defend the rights of gun owners.  The Right to Keep and Bear Arms is not principally about hunting or recreation.  In fact, the Second Amendment to our Constitution is our Founding Fathers’ restatement of our natural God-given right to defend life, liberty, and property.

I’m a decade-long concealed carry permit holder and Class III firearms collector.  When I was twelve years old, my father bought me my first gun, an H&R .410 shotgun.  In the course of hunting in the woods of Kentucky, he taught me the great responsibility that comes with ownership of a firearm.  Now that I am a father of four, I enjoy teaching these same lessons to my children through hunting and target practice.

On January 3rd, I introduced H.R. 133, the Citizens Protection Act of 2013. This bill would repeal the Gun-Free School Zones Act of 1990. Gun-free zones prevent law-abiding citizens from protecting themselves, and create vulnerable populations that are targeted by criminals.

In the coming weeks, I will discuss with my colleagues and constituents the best ways to combat horrendous acts of violence without violating the Second Amendment.  I value your input and will keep your thoughts in mind as Congress debates these issues.

Sincerely,

Thomas Massie
Member of Congress

Gun Appreciation Day

gun_appreciationToday, the SAF is celebrating Gun Appreciation Day.  Their site has a lot of interesting articles and tips on ways to express your views on gun rights so that the larger public sees us as their family, friends, and neighbors and not as the wild-eyed zealots we are made out to be.  Please take the time today to visit your favorite gun dealer or range and show just how many of us there are that hold our rights dear.  If you won’t stand up for your rights, then who will?

 

Thoughts on the Day

  • It may have been very frustrating, but there was  also a bit of joy in telling a vendor “I did what you said would fix the problem, and it’s still happening.  What else you got?”.
    • Hint to vendors:  “Ummmm, download all the logs, copy the entire operating system into a compressed archive file, and upload all of that to our website.” is not a step in the right direction the third time I do it.
  • I need to remember to take my lunch to work.
    • It’s 20 minutes one way to my car and another 10 minutes to any restaurant, so going out for a one hour lunch break is kind of silly.
    • Microwave popcorn, cheese and peanut butter crackers, and a sports drink aren’t exactly filling and nutritious.
  • Irish Woman and I ‘compromised’ on her ‘vision’ for the bathroom closet.
    • Irish Woman had a ‘vision’, and we all know that when Irish women start having visions, things start crawling out of a portal to hell.
    • By ‘compromised’, I mean that I demonstrated that what she wanted done was not possible while living under the laws of physics in this universe, and she accepted that I’m a big meanie who never lets her do a project on her own and I can just do it the way I want it.
    • OK, that was unfair.  We compromised by finding a happy medium.  She agreed to be rational and admit that I am not a master craftsman, that I do not have a staff of talented people to do the job with me, and that our outbuilding is not full of exotic hardwood lumber and a wood shop.  I agreed that her basic needs needed to be met, and that I couldn’t make it look like something Soviet engineers would have built in the 1930’s.
    • I have now bent her vision to fit on graph paper with measurements and lumber.  Hopefully I’m in the ball park.
  • Preparations are feverishly underway for Girlie Bear’s dance tomorrow night.
    • Think “Keystone Cops”, but with more nail polish.