Wally World and Foreign Shoppers with Exotic Tastes

So, I was innocently walking through Wally World the other day and I came across these words at the top of a sign:




And I thought to myself:

"Ugh"....

"I hope they got all of the fur off".

Then I imagined foreign visitors walking through the store with little electronic translation computers and finding this isle and buying Canned Cat. They would get home and cook it into a cassarole and take a bite and say.

"Something wrong with this cat".

LiberalCCW opinon on 2008 US Presidential Election

So, I admit it, I voted for Barack Hussein Obama. And I own a firearm. So call me a f$cking moron, Tam. I voted for Obama as I saw that his foreign policy stance could pull this nation out of the mess of failed foreign policy that Bush has been working so dillegently on.

I hear many right wingers wondering why conservatism lost. I suspect that conservatism did loose, but not on November 3rd. Conservatism lost at the moment that Ron Paul dropped out of the race, at which point there were no conservatives running for president. The movement that lost on November 3rd was Neoconservatism, which is neither conservative (as proven by the Bush adminstration) or new:

Fascism:

A form of political behavior marked by obsessive preoccupation with community decline, humiliation or victimhood and by compensatory cults of unity, energy and purity, in which a mass-based party of committed nationalist militants, working in uneasy but effective collaboration with traditional elites, abandons democratic liberties and pursues with redemptive violence and without ethical or legal restraints goals of internal cleansing and external expansion. – Robert O. Paxton, The Anatomy of Fascism

Hopefully someone in the GOP will listen to Ron Paul and re-learn what conservatism is and put the party back together, or the GOP is dead.

Interesting Fox News Article:

Here.

Whoop, there it is.....er.....was!

Obama's change.gov page linked contained an Urban Policy page last week. The page contained the following paragraph:

Address Gun Violence in Cities: As president, Barack Obama would repeal the Tiahrt Amendment, which restricts the ability of local law enforcement to access important gun trace information, and give police officers across the nation the tools they need to solve gun crimes and fight the illegal arms trade. Obama and Biden also favor commonsense measures that respect the Second Amendment rights of gun owners, while keeping guns away from children and from criminals who shouldn't have them. They support closing the gun show loophole and making guns in this country childproof. They also support making the expired federal Assault Weapons Ban permanent, as such weapons belong on foreign battlefields and not on our streets.

Now the change.gov policy page is a simple paragraph with no Urban Policy section. The original text is available in google cache.

Follow the creation of Obama's administration:

Here

A great quote:

"Rosa sat so Martin could walk...

Martin walked, so Obama could run...

Obama is running so our children can fly!"

To the Republican Party:

Liberal with an AK: SAR-1 Range Report

The SAR-1 is a stamped receiver semi-auto AKM clone. Chambered in 7.62x39, the SAR-1 is manufactured by S.A. Cugir in Romania. Many details about the SAR-1 can be found here. This article will focus on my first impressions of the range, and shooting the SAR-1.

We arrived at the range and got the safety spiel, and I stated that my rifle has no provision for locking the bolt to the rear. This comment got me the stink eye from the front desk clerk. Back at the bench rest, the NRA certified instructors, the ages of whom when added require scientific notation to display on a single page, asked me what I was shooting.

Me: "Romanian AK-47".

Range Coot 1: "T'aint full auto is it? 'Cuz you caint shoot full auto uh tis range".

Me: "No, it's a semi auto".

Range Coot 2: "H mainy po-sitions does the safety got"?

Me: "Only two, safe and fire".

Range Coot 3 (Sauntering over to look at the safety to make sure): "Yup, she's semi auto".

Satisfied, the coots went back to their shack. At the bench rest range, two Army folks were shooting bolt action rifles, an older gentleman was sighting in his hunting rifle chambered in .35 Whelen.

The coots called cease fire and the range went cold. I set up a single target at 50 yards. The previous owner of the carbine stated that it was incapable of hitting paper at 25 yards. I figured that I would give it a little more faith. The coots called the range hot, and I chambered a single round. I didn't want a slam fire to send the thing into full auto, calling down the wrath of the coots.

A 12" paper target is mighty small when it is hovering over AK iron sights at 50 yards. Mighty small. I decided to forgo the sandbags and just sat behind the bench.

The trigger on this particular SAR-1 is light and smooth with a clean crisp break. Ba-boom!

No trigger slap, a good thing. I couldn't see a hole in the target. I loaded up two rounds and went at it again. No slam fire! The spent brass had a bit of a dent right in the neck.

I loaded up a full mag, and slow fired at the target. About half way through, a Coot called "Cease Fire".

I went and looked at the target, and counted 18 holes, I had hit paper every time. So much for can't hit paper with it. Most of my shots were low and to the right, but grouped into about 6". Doing the math quick and dirty and without Origin to analyze x,y positions, etc comes out to:

50 Yards = 1800 inches. Theta= 6"/1800" = 0 Degrees 11 Minutes 28 Seconds. So, I was shooting about 11 MOA.

Not spectacular, but I will try from sandbags next time, and see if I can get a tighter group.
We arrived at the range late, and I only had time for about 40 rounds, but the SAR-1 cycled perfectly each time, with no hiccups. I was feeding it International Cartridge frangibles with non-toxic primers.

The next trip to the range will be to test the rifle on sandbags and to test a new 30 round mag.

And now, a YouTube video of someone shooting an SAR-1:

From the old home place:

This article:

I thought for a second the victim was my high school buddy Matthew H. However, thinking about it, he is probably the perp.

My dad is chuckling right now.

RIP
Scooter Mouse
June 2007 - August 2008

"He lived a long and happy life"

Q: Who will win the 2008 Tour De France?

A: The rider who can take the most dope and not get caught.

Carpet Obituary

The LiberalCCW household announces the senseless and violent murder of their beloved carpet "Red". Struck down in the prime of life, Red we will always remember how wonderful you made our bare toes feel. It seems like it was yesterday that we picked you up at the rug store, brought you to our home and made you part of the family. We miss you Red, and know that you can never be replaced.

We have punished your murderer by banishing him to the kitchen. We have rolled up the other carpets to prevent more acts of Canine Fecal Violence from taking them from us as well. Rest assured that your passing shall not be in vain.

In Memoriam ~Long Pile Red~ April 2008 - June 2008

Thank you Dennis!

Dennis Kucinich, risking life and limb for the good of the Nation!

Chicken Volcano

The other day I boiled a whole chicken in the pressure cooker. When it was done, I turned off the heat, and after several minutes later removed the weighted cap. I was using a fork, and was ready to replace the cap in the event chicken broth started to vent.

Unfortunately, I dropped the cap, and just then liquid chicken started to vent skywards. It took the dog about 0.01 seconds to smell the chicken, and he was right there trying to thwart my efforts at capping the gusher. After about 30 seconds, I got the lid back on, and I think that the dog had cleaned up the floor about a minute after that. He had a look on his face as if he had died and gone to doggie heaven.

"It's raining chicken". He was thinking.

Now every time I use the pressure cooker, he is right there. Waiting.

A Product Review

I am composing this article from a parking lot using a Dell Inspiron 6400 laptop powered by 120V AC from the generator depicted below. And no, it's not because I forgot to pay the power bill, I swear! I removed the Laptop battery to be sure that the generator could provide steady power.

Normally I would shy away from product reviews, but I hoped to add some useful info for consumers. I purchased the PowerPacPlus+ generator from Pep-Boys after I saw that they had dropped the price from $150 to $99.99 after a mail in rebate. The market is currently flooded with this model of inexpensive Chinese made two cycle (40:1 mix) 1200 W (peak) generator. They are sold under many name brands, but appear to be identical. The lowest online price I found for a new unit was $120 with free shipping.




The generator provides up to 850 W continuous power, and can handle surges up to 1200 watts. I followed the manual's suggested 300 W max load burn in procedure by powering two laptops pulling 150 W each, and it kept them up for four hours with the batteries removed. Next I removed a laptop and added an 800 W heater and the motor surged, but powered both heater and laptop without a problem. The laptop never went down. I cycled the heater several times and the generator responded well enough to keep the laptop up. After about 5 hours of run time, with the last hour at 950 W, the motor ran out of fuel. Using a 1.1 US Gal tank, fuel costs are less than $1 per hour, at the current $3.55 a gallon price.

Two minor annoyances:

The motor will run out of fuel before the fuel tank appears to be empty as the internal fuel filter sits a bit high.

YOU ABOSOLUTELY HAVE TO TURN OFF THE FUEL VALVE AND RUN THE CARB DRY OR THE EVAPORATING GASOLINE WILL LEAVE BEHIND 2 STROKE OIL, FOULING THE CARB AND YOU WILL NOT BE ABLE TO START THE UNIT.

Positives:

Has 12 DC out for charging car batteries.
Is simple to use, starts on second pull.
Weighs less than 50 lb.
Proven to produce 2.2 kWh of electrical energy from 1.1 US gal of gas.
Runs well on 10% Ethanol/Gas mix.

To stop a nosebleed

I used to suffer from frequent nosebleeds. I would roll over in bed and the pressure from my pillow would start my nose bleeding. It would take twenty minutes to stop it. I would blow my nose, and it would bleed. It's hard to manage industrial equipment and stop a nosebleed at the same time. Several years ago, centrist CCW insisted that I get my nose checked out. The ENT doctor looked up my nose with a cold metal scope and said:

"Yup, there it is. You have an artery close to the surface on the inside of your nostril, it's got to be the one that causes it".

"What can you do"? I asked.

"I can chemically cauterize it". He said.

"With what Chemical" I replied.

"Silver Nitrate". Was the answer.

"First we numb your nose, and then we put a tiny bit of Silver Nitrate on the vessel. It will sting a bit, and the Novocaine we give you will keep you from feeling much." The Doctor said reassuringly.

And so, I let a nurse at my nose with a cotton swab dipped in Novocaine. The problem was that when the nurse stuck the swab up my nose, all of the Novocaine squeezed out and ran down my upper lip and into my mouth, which was slightly open so that I could breath with the cotton in my nose.

"What should I do"? I asked myself. "Should I spit out the Novocaine, or swallow it? Should I tell the nurse that it's not in my nose?"

In the time it took to think these thoughts, the Novocaine numbed my lips to the point that when I tried to speak it sounded like a quiet mumble, unintelligible. I figured that enough of the Novocaine made it into my nose that I would be OK.

I was wrong.

When the Dr. stuck the pea sized spot of Silver Nitrate into the wall of my nostril it felt at first as if he was putting out a lit cigarette on the inside of my nose. After several seconds it felt like he was TIG welding a boat hitch into my nose, and he had just flunked out of welding school.

My eyes began to water from the pain, tears streamed down my face.

"Im, sorry, does it sting at all"? Asked the Doc.

"mmmmmbbbl aaaabbbbbllll bubbbbb bub" Was all I could manage with my unresponsive lips.

Mercifully, he was finished in less than a minute, but the pain had just begun. I walked out of the office, wiping tears from my eyes. My face felt as if I had stood in front of Babe Ruth and taken a Louisville Slugger to the bridge of my nose.

I got home and my wife took one look at me and asked:

"Are you OK?

"Ummmmb.... By Tink Sooo". I replied, grateful that I could now communicate verbally.

For two days, my nose somehow stayed distended from my face. I understand the inner feelings of Cyrano De Bergerac now.

I have not had a nosebleed since.

A money saving and highly patentable idea.

Several months ago I was walking across campus and saw a group of folks protesting the use of Depleted Uranium Sabot Rounds in the M1A1 Tank for environmental and health reasons. Who wants to live in a neighborhood awash with depleted Uranium? Most of the alternatives are also toxic, lead for instance. That's when I had the brilliant idea: Use frozen goat meat. I can assure you that no tank could withstand a 15 kg chunk of frozen goat sabot traveling at three times the speed of sound. Cleanup of any goat meat round fragments would be taken care of by local wildlife.

Another advantage is that instead of producing the raw material for the tank rounds in nuclear reactors, tankers would be able to procure their own rounds at local markets all over the world.

Taxes......Done!

Centrist CCW did an excellent job on the taxes this year, we have submitted with over 12.5 hours to spare! This is a vast improvement over when I did the taxes. Memories.....too.....painful......

Today I am feeling...

bitter!

And so, to console myself, I am clinging to guns:



and religion:

In Memoriam: Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.
January 15, 1929 ~ April 4, 1968

This morning I decided that....

I was wrong about the second amendment.

I decided that I will stop carrying a pistol, and carry a cell phone instead and call the police should I ever be attacked. I will then try to bargain for my life with my attacker for the five to twenty minute wait until help arrives. It's the only responsible way to live in an advanced society.

I have decided to sell the SAR-1 at a police gun buy back, to get it off of the streets. Keeping it next to the bed at night only puts me in danger, as someone trying to rob us at midnight could easily dodge 30 rounds of 7.62x39 and rip it out of my hands and then kill me with it, only to roam the streets with a high capacity assault rifle that only the military and police would possibly ever need.

I have decided to walk the "well lit" safe zone street from the convenience store to my office (or as much of it as I can before it ends) after hours, in order to be safe. I have memorized all of the "blue phone" locations on campus and have practiced screaming real loud to scare off criminals.

I have decided to call my State Rep and let him know that I want him to work to revoke CCW permits in Tennessee. I would feel safer if only the Police are Criminals are armed, and that I am OK with the Police refusing to provide me security, because with all of the practice, I can scream loud enough now to scare even myself. I am confident in my ability to scream, call the police and bargain with criminals, and have practiced doing all three simultaneously to the point I no longer feel the need provide for my own defense.

Read about how I came to these conclusions here.

I am soooooo there. See you at Hodges Mr. Clark!

Second Amendment Debate in Knoxville.

A welcome spam found lurking in my hotmail junk folder.

I recently checked my hotmail spam folder and found a gem waiting there. Quarter scale RC TANKS!:


Legal Disclaimer: By clicking the following link you agree not to hold LiberalCCW, LLC. responsible for drool damage to your computer keyboard. I agree.

Why Ron Paul Scares the GOP

Excellent summary by Michael Grunwald over at Time ..."The real significance of the Paul campaign is ... the mirror Paul held up to the modern Republican Party. When his fellow candidates denounced big government, Paul was there to remind them that President Bush and the G.O.P. Congress had shattered spending records and exploded the deficit. When they hailed freedom, Paul asked why they all supported the Patriot Act and other expansions of executive power. And when they called themselves conservatives, Paul asked what was so conservative about sending thousands of young Americans to try to transform the Middle East".

The mis-statement of the year...

No, it's not Hillary, or McCain, it's an Air Marshal:

"The American public would be shocked. ... I think the average person understands there's no physical way to protect every single flight everywhere,"

And this after years of spending 3/4 of a Billion dollars a year.

Ahem. Let CCW permit holders carry everywhere they travel. That's a physical way to protect every single flight everywhere. And, It's FREE!

Remember!

The Four Rules apply to pilots too!

When breakfast cereals go bad...

Centrist CCW fed the dog some dry stale cornflakes this morning. Unfortunately having spent too much time in the box with nothing to do, the cornflakes were militant and highly trained. Angered at being fed to the dog, they decided to duke it out with their canine nemesis. The rebellious flakes banded together and using dog saliva as a makeshift glue, they bonded themselves solidly to the roof his mouth.

I looked at the dog and said:

"Gizmo, nobody eats cereal without milk"!

When he noticed that the flakes were retaliating the dog began to make gagging noises and attempted to remove the members of the 3rd Cornflake Battalion, Charlie Company from his mouth with his tongue and front paws. Unfortunately, he only made matters worse because mid counter attack, he was distracted by Bravo Company, hiding in his food bowl, and by attacking them, he allowed them to join up with Charlie Company. Now he was battling both Companies who were solidly dug in, and they were holding their ground.

The scratching was fruitless, as the battlefield was linoleum, and every time he raised a front paw to make an assault the other three paws would slide about, leaving him to roll on the floor, gagging and scratching. Every few seconds he would see a Bravo Company straggler on the floor and he would attempt to take them out, only to unwittingly strengthen the invading force.

At this point, I shoved the water bowl under his nose, hoping that he would use it to loosen the entrenched combatants, but he ignored it.

After mulling over the consequences, I felt that it was time to bring out the M-Bomb, as cruel as it sounds. I emptied his water bowl and filled it with about an inch of enriched weapons grade (2%) Mayfield Milk. The invaders didn't stand a chance. The battle was over in less than 5 seconds.

CCW Story 39: The Great Debate!

Having submitted my paperwork and paid my fees, it was time to wait for my concealed carry permit to arrive in the mail. The background check process can take up to 90 days. What better way to pass the time that to shoot?

Centrist CCW and I spent hours at the local indoor range. I probably put 500 rounds a week through the Bersa, and as I chewed through the ammo, my marksmanship improved. I worked on my Weaver stance, shot onehanded with my right and left hands, fired slow, fast, at close range targets and at 25 yards.

I started thinking about my next firearms purchase. Operating under the theory that I was going to carry a pistol everyday, I decided that I wanted to have only one pistol for the sake of simplicity. This would ensure that should have to use it to defend myself, I would not be fumbling for the safety on the Bersa while holding a Ruger.

I also decided that I would have one of each: A pistol, a rifle and a shotgun. So it was between a rifle and a shotgun. I noticed the rack of WASR-10 carbines in the middle of the store.

"What are these"? I asked Todd.

"Cheap AK-47 copies in semi auto. Made in Romania". He replied.

I looked at the price tag. Under $300. Oh Baby!

"You would be better served with an AR". Said Todd.

And so, with little ado, I was introduced to the great AR vs. AK debate (M-16 vs. AK-47). I would hazard to say that the AR vs. AK debate is similar to the Apple vs. Microsoft, Algebraic vs. RPN, or Campagnolo vs. Shimano, with one difference: The "bad guys" use AKs. From Vietnam to Iraq and everywhere and every-when in between.

Liberal CCW's advice for Barack and Hillary

Starting with Barack, I am sorry to see you going through such hard times, but compared to what you will face as U.S. President, this is nothing. My advice to you is that you pick a running mate with domestic and international experience. Someone who has much more conservative core values than yourself. Someone who is ugly as mud, so as to counter the argument that you are running on the young and attractive ticket. Therefore I suggest:

Bill Richardson:
Hillary, I find you as well as all of those who swirl around you utterly repugnant.

My advice:

Get a divorce. This is the only way you stand a chance to get elected.

If you played your cards right, you could hold a press conference and announce that you had caught Bill cheating again. You would shed tears and say that as a liberated woman, you couldn't put up with the pig's infidelity any longer and that you were filing that afternoon. This would garner you the divorced woman vote, and guarantee crossover republican women, and lighten the unpalatable burden of the Clinton name for fence sitters seething at the thought of Bill in the White House again.

A pair of deletions

This author wishes to call attention to two deletions in the list of links to the right of your screen. I decided I was wasting 4 cm^2 of valuable screen space between them.

Rush Limbaugh....gone! Why you ask? Rush's banner "Unity is overrated" rubs me the wrong way. Right now we need racial unity, and Rush in effect is saying that we need racial discord.

Michael Moore....poof! Disappeared! I too am against the war in Iraq, but c'mon Mike, you are driving a wedge between the good folks of this Nation.

Good riddance, you divisive slobs.

CCW Story Part 38: CCW Permit Application.

Having taken the State required handgun safety class, the next step in getting a CCW license was to get fingerprinted. I called to make an appointment, and took my work lunch break to get it done. The Knoxville office where the fingerprinting is done is on Central Ave, just North of Broadway, a pretty rough neighborhood. I used to live on Oklahoma Ave, several blocks north of the area. During the day, homeless wander the back alleys, during the evening prostitutes walk the sidewalk. In the dead of night, huge rats wander the neighborhood, attracted by the industrial bakery on the corner of Oklahoma and Central. It's a classic southern city scene.

Ironically, at the very moment I was walking from the car to the State office building in Knoxville to give the U.S. Government biometric data to run against every crime scene they could, police in New Orleans were confiscating firearms from law abiding citizens in the aftermath of hurricane Katrina.

As I waited, I wondered what the U.S. founding fathers would have thought of the Government running a huge computer database containing the fingerprints of law abiding citizens. Checking the fingerprints of those citizens at the speed of light, comparing them to the fingerprints found at crime scenes around our great nation.

It is true, the U.S. Government trusted me, a lowly citizen to go about armed, but to do so legally, I had to pay a price: I had to enter my fingerprints into the system. Was it worth the price?

The scanner was operated by two middle aged women, who, as typical state employees had little time for humor.

"Press your right thumb here... now your fingers of your right hand.... now your left thumb.....now your fingers of your left hand". Said the woman as she watched a screen showing my fingerprints.

Funny how some legislators think that this would prevent crimes. If I ever robbed a store at gunpoint, I could simply buy a pair of $0.99 cotton gloves and leave no fingerprints behind. Granted, if I had ever committed a crime, I was unlikely to apply for a permit that required me to give fingerprints. In that line of reasoning, had I already committed a violent crime, I would also most likely not feel that I needed a permit to carry a gun.

And so, I left the State facility, having left my anonymity behind in exchange for the "privilege" of going about armed. I was in the system, biometrics and all, and if there is one thing I have learned, it is that there is no getting out of the system.

Milan San-Remo

I apologize for the formating of this text, It was written in notepad.

This Sunday, the European Pro Cycling Classics kick off with the Milan-San Remo.
I have a minuscule tidbit of lore on the race, as I have a connection to the
winner of the first edition of Milan San Remo in 1908, Cyrille Van Hauwaert.

Unable to afford train fare to the race, Van Hauwaert gathered some clothes
and a small amount of money, and departed Belgium for Milan on his bike.
Riding south through the Ardennes, into France and then Italy, he arrived very fit for the race.

He won the first Milan San Remo, but the details of his victory have been lost to time.
Instantly, he became a legend. The Flemish, who had little joy in their lives
now had claim to a genuine international hero. Van Hauwaert became
the first of the Flandriens, the Flemish riders who dominated
the classics for the bulk of the Twentieth Century. The most famous Flandriens
are Rik Van Loey, Rik Van Steenbergen and Roger De Vlaeminck "Mr. Paris Roubaix".
One could say that Johan Musseuw is the latest Flandriens, but I would argue
Freddy Maertens was the last.

After his homecoming, Van Hawaert maximized his fame and started building
bicycles bearing his name. The Van Hauwaert brand was built
in his workshop in Brussels, later he opened a second factory in the Congo.

In the late 1940s, he began to rack up debts, as his love
for drink and the horses ate in to his profits. By the mid 1950s he
closed the plant in the Congo and looked into selling off his brand in
order to pay off his bookies. He sold his business to a Mr. De Visscher
who continued production of Van Hauwaert bicycles in Brussels until
the early 1970's when he moved the production to Ronse, in Southern East Flanders.


In 1993, I took a job with De Visscher as a mechanic/frame painter/lackey
and had his son build me a custom bike with Fillet Brazed Columbus EL tubing,
which I raced for two seasons.




De Visscher's son remembered meeting
Cyrille Van Hauwaert and described him as a rotund man with a deep
belly laugh and a large handlebar mustache, with a famous weakness for drinking, gambling and the ladies.

Heathcote and Chadwick

The Dept. of Dirty Looks is fairly large and I have do do all of the ordering through Mr. Heathcote. The problem with this is that Heathcote has no followthrough, no ambition, drive, or desire to please or achieve much of anything other than wait a week when ordering and then sign for boxes. A month ago I ordered 300 0.5 meter long widgets via Heathcote, who wants to make all orders, and receive all orders through his office, which is big enough to park a scooter in comfortably, but not 300 0.5 meter long widgets, no matter how tight you pack them. I sent him an Email stating:

This order will arrive on a full size tractor trailer, you will need a forklift to unload it, please have it sent here (address follows) we have a forklift. It is a big pile of widgets, a mighty big pile. Taller than the hallway outside the door of the Dept. of Dirty Looks shipping office. Blah blah blah.

I hoped that the above was not too subtle, and the Heathcote would do what I asked, and ship it to my address, not his.

A month went by, and I heard nothing. No confirmation from Heathcote, not a peep. I needed the widgets, and had started cutting 0.75 meter widgets down to 0.5 meters with a band saw, just to get by. Wasteful widget cutting is not high on my list of fun activities.

Today I was across campus and decided to stop in and see if Heathcote had actually bothered to open my Email.

"Did you order the 0.5 meter widgets I requested"? I asked.

Not looking up from his game of Solitaire, Heatcote replied: "Yes, of course, they have been here for weeks, they are downstairs, they were too big to bring up here. Chadwick was supposed to deliver them to you, go talk to him".

I exhaled sharply and wondered if I need to put the "ship to me" message in BOLD UPPERCASE 36 RED FONT the next time.

I exhaled for two reasons. First, Heathcote is a fool. Secondly, Chadwick hates me, as I once asked a graduate student to perform a task I call the Amazing Feat of Workplace Prowess that is the Raison D'etre of Chadwick's employment. Chadwick was proving that he is important, and made us wait, when we couldn't wait, so when he thought that I had a lowly student perform the Amazing Feat of Workplace Prowess, he was livid.

Back across campus in my office, I was on the phone when a graduate student knocked on my door.

"Chadwick says you need to come and get the Widgets, the fire marshal said that they are blocking the exit".

I exhaled again. Twice, once for Heathcote and once for Chadwick.

I called Heathcote, who's phone went to voicemail. I left a message stating that I had no way to come get the widgets, and that they were blocking the exit, blah, blah, blah.

Next, I steeled myself and called Chadwick, who coldly asked me when I could pick up the widgets, as the fire exit to the lower level of the Dept. of Dirty Looks was blocked.

I told him that I had no truck, he had the only truck, and asked if he could bring them.

Two hours later, he arrived, and none too happy.

"What the hell do you mean by telling Heathcote that I refused to bring you the Widgets"? Chadwick shouted at me.

I realize several things:

1. Heathcote hates both Chadwick and myself.
2. Chadwick had set us up.
3. Chadwick hates me and Heathcote.
4. The Dept. of Dirty Looks has HR issues.

I apologized to Chadwick, and worked a deal that if anything arrives with my name on it in his corner of Dirty Looks, he will call me and I will take care of it.

It's too bad you can't order a box of male Silverback Gorillas.

For those of you who wonder what bicycle racing in Europe is like...

I can vouch for the absolute truth written here about racing in Belgium, The Netherlands and France.

The Belgian Cyclo-Tourists (Wieler-Terroristen) used to give me a hard time about training in the rain.

"It's no good for you manneke, you will get sick".

If I never trained in the rain in Belgium, I would have trained a total of two weeks in 8 seasons. My instant response after the 1000th comment by the same person about getting wet when riding in the rain:

"The only difference between training in the rain and training in good weather is that I am not soaked from sweat when it is raining".

Funny that after you win a race, no one comes up and says:

"See, you shouldn't have trained in the rain this spring".

Don't even get me started on Belgians and their insane fetish with Pre-Race Bicycle Sterilization Procedures (AKA, you can't race with a fingerprint on your frame). Which is funny considering how much horse crap you have to ride through in the first km of the race.

SWAT Hand Signal Guide:

Funny Videos

If you watch nothing else, watch this:

A moment of silence please....

Remembering Arthur C. Clarke.

What the Second Amendment to the US Constitution means to me:

Five minutes of self defense.

Of Cats and Dogs.

The primary psychological difference between any given cat and any random dog is that dogs can't hide their emotions. If a dog is angry, it's obvious. Cats can hide their anger and take revenge later. I shaved a portion of the family cat's tail once, and he acted normal towards me for two days while he plotted revenge. His revenge was perfect, he sprayed my pillow.

Dogs also have a sense of remorse. We can look at our dog and see right away if he got into something in the kitchen when we were gone. He hangs his head low, and you can see in his eyes that he feels like dirt.

A cat has no sense of remorse, no guilt whatsoever actually. If you come home to a cat ravaged kitchen, blinds torn to shreds, food eaten and look angrily at the cat, the cat just looks at you with an expression that says:

"What are you lookin' at? Get me some dinner, I will be in the front window plotting my escape.....You filthy PIMP! "

The Woes of Sitemeter.

I am removing the Sitemeter counter from my site. I realized that I was spending more time looking at who was reading my writing, than actually writing anything. I was also beginning to get tempted to tailor articles to draw hits, instead of writing for my primary audience. (Both of you.)

Our new apartment.

We recently moved to a new apartment and our dog was well behaved for about a week.
By well behaved, I mean he treated the carpet with a modicum of respect. The second week however, he and the carpet were on fighting terms, I am convinced that he was trying to beat it into submission using his most potent weapons.

Monday, startled by the Maintenance man, the dog peed buckets full right in the traffic lane between the kitchen and the living room. Dutifully, we dried and scrubbed it up.

Wednesday, the dog ate a Non Food Item of Biological Origin (NFIBO) that didn't sit right, probably a dead something or a cat turd from outside, so he horked it right in the middle of the living room floor. Normally we can anticipate these events because his
Wind-up is long and loud, but this time he got us in the middle of the night. Why do dogs always vomit twice, the second round having exactly half of the footprint of the first? He apparently still felt pretty good about the contents of the second hork, because he cleaned most of that up on his own. He wanted nothing to do with the partially digested dead thing/cat turd, so I cleaned that off of the carpet with gloves and disinfectant.

That evening I saw what I thought was a small bit potato peel on the ground, so I picked it up, only to discover that it was not a piece of potato peel, it was a peanut. Then I noticed that the peanut had a dog hair stuck to it, so I examined it more closely only to discover that it was not a peanut, but that it appeared to be a horked up hairball.

Something about the hairball was not right, and so pinching it between my thumb and forefinger, I gave it a quick sniff.... only to discover that it was not a hairball at all, it was a peanut-shaped dog turd.

I had the sudden realization that I was a grown man, standing in his living room sniffing a dog turd held between his thumb and index finger.

I ran and pitched the poop into the closest receptacle, the kitchen garbage, then zipped into the bathroom to wash my hands, readied for the next round of floor scrubbing.

The next morning, the Centrist CCW emerged from the bedroom and exclaimed through a grimace:

"It smells like dog poo in here".

I related the story above to which the Centrist CCW asked:

"Why didn't you put the poop in the toilet instead of the garbage".

I thought about it for a while, I had never thought of putting it anywhere, I just wanted to get rid of it ASAP.

"When you are standing, sniffing a dog turd under your own nose, you tend not to worry about where to get rid of it, as much as how fast you can get rid of it".

Centrist CCW agreed.

It was a long week.

Fun with phones.

The creation of global cellular phone networks has been a boon for personal communication. Now we rarely out of touch, with each other, calling and talking from our cars from Knoxville to Riyadh. Through text messaging we receive tornado warnings, Amber alerts, and personal notes. Never in human history has it been easier to communicate with each other across the globe. For me however, the greatest personal boon of the cellular revolution is:

Catching people with their ringer on in church.

Here is how it works:

I notice that it’s approaching 10:30 AM (In the morning) on Sunday, and I think to myself.

“Hmmmm. I haven’t called dad on a Sunday morning in about six months”.

And so I dial.

And his phone rings! His phone is on! It could be on mute, however. The next step will let me know.

It rings three, perhaps four times and it picks up. I don’t hear him, I hear prolonged scratchy audio that sounds like a raccoon is cleaning the phone with cotton swabs, and quiet and tinny in the background I hear audio gold:

Faint preaching!

I’ve done it!

I laugh maniacally into my phone and after several seconds, the phone hangs up.

I laugh a good long, private belly laugh and wait for him to call back.

The ultimate forgotten ringer experience, the holy grail of church service embarrassment is the Funeral Interruption. As my mother is a church musician, a chronic ringer forgetter, and I know her funeral schedule in advance, it is relatively easy for me to pull it off, but at what price?

[Moral disclaimer follows]

The willful cellular interruption of a funeral service is a wanton act of audio violence. It is an unspeakable animal act of technical barbarism that shows no respect for the human conventions of love or family.

[End moral disclaimer]

That said, I’ve been itching to pull off a funeral interruption for quite some time, but have to pick the right funeral. Ideally, I would pick one where my dad was present and my mom was working and then call my dad and he would face the double whammy: Embarrassment and my mom’s wrath.

There are always consequences to one’s actions, and the biggest consequence is that there are times that I forget my ringer, and find myself sweating with shaky hands as I frantically turn off my phone before the dreaded call. So far, I have yet to be caught in church with my phone ringer on, although not for the lack of trying on the part of my mother, father and sister.

Poor Man's Medium Speed Internet.

Centrist CCW and I are now connected to the World Wide Web at home. Being a Cheapskate with an uppercase C, I didn't want to fork over setup fees plus modem cost plus $24 per month for a dry run DSL only phone line, or $37.75 plus setup fees plus modem fees for cable. We recently re-upped with our GSM cell provider and received two free phones, which have bluetooth and have packet data (internet) capabilities. It turn out that for an additional $15 a month I can sign up for unlimited data on my number.

Now, via Dell Inspiron -> Wifi -> Powerbook G3 -> Bluetooth -> Nokia Phone -> GPRS we have medium speed internet for two laptops. As I write this on the Powerbook, the Centrist CCW is watching TV shows on the Dell. Granted, it's not a high speed setup. Speed tests show 128 K down, 64 K up.

If we download video, the phone gets hot, and forget about running for more than 2 hours on the phone battery, it has to stay plugged in.

So far we have downloaded 955 Megabytes. Yes, that's Megabytes, this week. That's 1.5 cents per Megabyte. If we work it out on a monthly basis, that is 0.4 cents per MB.
One advantage over DSL or cable is that it works anywhere we have a GSM signal on our phones.

In the depths of my fever I realized that Ann Coulter was right!

Laying in bed over the last week, feverish and sick, I realized that Ann Coulter is right: Too many people vote in this country. The voting poor do pose a threat to our great society. We do need a poll tax and literacy tests to ensure that we don't waste our valuable tax money on "Guv'ment Cheese".

It makes sense to limit the vote to those who can measure success in a candidate, those who can recognize managerial talent.

By eliminating the voting "noise" of the self serving poor and uneducated in our society, we can elect leader who get things done.

Therefore I suggest the following poll tax:



$95,000 cash at the voting booth. This would eliminate the destitute and working poor who have obviously made bad decisions in their own lives, and keep them from dragging the country down. The $95,000 would be tax deductible of course, as no one should have to pay to perform their civic duties.

Outlines for the literacy test can be found here.

Obama, Clinton, Race America and the GOP.

I imagine that it has to be difficult to be a Democrat, Female, and fill Hillary Clinton's shoes. The focus of her life right now is to find an effective way to marginalize a black man's accomplishments, and not insult liberals while doing it. I would not want her job.

In contrast, the GOP has no problems using racism and fear to rally the troops. From an Email sent to me by a white acquaintance who used the dreaded phrase "I am not a racist....but". Which really means: "I am a racist", when telling me about the Email.

Interestingly, the Email's author also feels that saying "This is not a racist statement" right before and after racist statements, makes them stop being racist statements.

A short excerpt:

"But for minorities, and in particular blacks, this election
represents a moment of long-awaited validation. There is no question that
the election of an African-American president will empower the blacks of
this country. Don't misunderstand me - this is not a racist statement, this
is just a fact, and in many respects this could be a good thing. But there is no denying the sense of audacious rebellion that constantly simmers in
much of the black community, particularly with the youth of the large
metropolitan areas. I have some concern that the election of a black
president will take us back to a consciousness that promotes the power of
race over intelligence, reason, and the value of law..."

The GOP is using race against Obama. It worked with my acquaintance, he is afraid. It seems that the GOP are also afraid that a black man might win the US Presidency.

The words of the GOP are false. This is a country of the people, all of the people. While the words of the GOP in 2008 are more eloquent than most of the rants of American racists over the last several centuries, the meaning of their words however, are the same:

If you let one of them run the country, they will take us back to a consciousness that promotes the power of race over intelligence, reason and the value of law.

If you let one of them vote, they will will take us back to a consciousness that promotes the power of race over intelligence, reason and the value of law.

If you let one of them into your school, they will take us back to a consciousness that promotes the power of race over intelligence, reason and the value of law.

If you let one of them ride in the front of the bus they will take us back to a consciousness that promotes the power of race over intelligence, reason and the value of law.

If you let one of them live in your neighborhood they will take us back to a consciousness that promotes the power of race over intelligence, reason and the value of law.

If you let one of them serve in the Military, they will take us back to a consciousness that promotes the power of race over intelligence, reason and the value of law.

If you abolish slavery, they will take us back to a consciousness that promotes the power of race over intelligence, reason and the value of law.

This Presidential election is a litmus test for racial tolerance in the USA. Will we pass?

Addendum: I, Liberal CCW solemnly deny that there is a sense of audacious rebellion in much of the black community.

Back from the near dead.

I apologize to my four regular readers from my recent pause in blogging. I was out sick and have no internet connection at home. There are several articles on the hard drive that I will upload in the days ahead.

Campus Carry!

......at UT, as in Utah Via CNN.

Presenting: A Dog's Night In!

Liberal CCW Productions Presents: "A Dog's Night In".

~An evening of vocals and interpretive dance~

Tickets on sale now: $45.

The award winning "A Dog's Night In" features canine artist "Mr. Stinkle Stankle" performing his famous solo vocal numbers:

• Who's at the Door?
• Death to the Mailman.
• I Have to Go Outside Now!
• See, You Should Have Let Me Out (I Wuznt Fakin).

Mr. Stankle will also be performing the following beloved interpretive dance routines:

• Clearing the Kitchen Counter.
• Venetian Blind Tornado.
• The Carpet Scooter.
• The Hork Ballad.
• Dance on three legs (to the tune of Singing in the Rain).
• The Carpet Brownie Waltz.

Critics are rabid over "A Dog's night In":

"A Scatological Tour De Force!" ~ The New York Times.

"I laughed, I cried, I got bit on the ankle." ~ The Denver Post.

"Rarely has an artist shown so much energy and directed so much anger and feces at a carpet during a performance" ~The Tampa Tribune

"The Who... Scmoo, Mr. Stankle has set the bar for artistic destruction of the stage". ~ The Rolling Stone.

Obama, Foreign Policy, and Image

You don't often find folks in foreign countries holding campaign posters for US Presidential Candidates.

CNN reports that President Bush found some Obama supporters in Tanzania:

I picture Bush looking out of the window in his limo only to realize that the world can't wait to replace him.

Positively Hillary, Schwall!

Gentle readers, there are times that people you know and respect do and say things that they might later regret, things that make them look foolish or even hateful. When confronted by the careless and wanton acts of your friends, you can act on the base human response and burn with white hot rage, or choose the higher path of forgiveness.

Liberal CCW was interviewed this morning as part of a President's Day special for the WBIR television segment Positively Schwall. The interview went as follows:

Ken Schwall: "So who is your favorite President"?

Liberal CCW: [Thinking] "FDR....but that's not funny." [Blurting Exuberantly]: "Hillary Clinton"!

Schwall was not impressed with my answer and was even less impressed with the NY Yankees ball cap that I was wearing. They re-filmed the take with me explaining that Hillary was my favorite President, that Hillary had already run the country from the White House for eight years, blah blah blah.

I am afraid that Scwhall will edit out the end of the clip and just have me saying that Hillary is my favorite President ever. And so, I beg your forgiveness, dear reader.

For the record, Charlton Heston is my favorite President.

The battle of the accountants

The other day our office received a purchase order from an outside firm, (Widget Devices LLC) addressed to the incorrect department (our former department, The Department of Nothing to Do), and made out to someone who had retired several months ago. Normally this is not a big deal. However, the accountant (Accountant 1) in our new department (The Department of Dirty Looks) has three major professional behavioral flaws:

1. Laziness
2. Nitpicking
3. Turf Protection

My boss and I decided that instead of forwarding the incorrectly addressed purchase order to Accountant 1, we would contact the outside firm ourselves and thus avoid the extreeeeeeemly sloooooow mooooootion traaaaaaaain wreeeeeeck of having Accountant 1 deal with the problem.

And so, I the engineer, contacted the company via Email stating that the address was incorrect on the Purchase Order, and giving the correct address, department name and contact person. An hour later I got a reply from an Accountant at the outside firm (Account 2) with the request for a document (Zed) and the note to read the attached email. The attached Email contained a heated internal corporate discussion between Accountant 2 and her boss (Accountant 2a) about the issue that involved calling me names!

I resisted picking up the phone and calling Accountants 2 and 2a and then 1 and putting them on a conference call and calling them all names. I realized that Accountants 2 and 2a were suffering from the same problems as accountant 1, without 1's half-ounce of dignity and professionalism.

I did what any good employee would and asked my boss what document Zed was and where to get it. He suggested that I ask our old, (and I mean old) accountant (Accountant 3) of the Department of Nothing to Do for a copy. I went to see old 3, and after staring at me angrily with his rheumy eyes, he slowly and creakily started to finger through his files with his liverspotted hands. He found a copy of document Zed, and handed it to me. I examined it and found that it was half a decade old. He had been sending this out of date copy of document Zed to companies since before I started working for the firm. Sensing that it was quite possible that 2 and 2a were worse nitpickers than 1, I decided that sending a copy of Zed so old that I would have to fax the Rosetta stone along to decipher it was probably a bad idea. Old 3 growled that my best bet was to go to the Department of Peace and Prosperity and ask if they had a more recent copy of document Zed.

So, off I trudged, the office of Peace and Prosperity is a half a mile from our building. I know what you are thinking: Call first, you dummy. Aha! I've got you. I always used to call first but if you call first in this organization, you will get a secretary who has all of the failings of Accountant 1, minus the sparkling personality. Inevitably, you get transferred to a voice mail box that is full, without the secretary giving the number of the person that you need to reach. I am convinced that these office workers have phones in empty locked rooms that no one can possibly get to so that they can efficiently transfer all calls requiring actual work to a dead end.

I arrived at the Office of Peace and Prosperity and waved my yellowed copy of document Zed at the front desk secretary, who looked confused and went to get the Accountant of the Office of Peace and Prosperity (Accountant 4). 4 bustled out of the door with more vigor than I have seen in an office worker, and I thought to myself:

"4 might have the answer".

However, 4 proceeded to examine my half-decade old copy of document Zed and then suggested that I (and I quote):

"Go to the Federal United States Government website for the Department of Zed and see if the copy of Zed that you have has been superseded by a newer revision, if so, then this copy is no good".

I snorted audibly, and thanked Accountant 4 and left the Department of Peace and Prosperity. 4 undoubtedly went back to watering the petunias in the office.

On the half mile walk back to my office, I noticed that the copy of Zed that I had appeared to be a fax, and had the faint remainders of the issuing department name on it: "The Department of the Source of All Paperwork". (DSAP) I called DSAP and got secretary 2.

"DSAP, Secretary 2 speaking".

"Could you fax me the latest version of document Zed"? I asked.

"Sure". She replied, easy as pie.

I went downstairs and retrieved the fax, with the spanking new document Zed signed and dated last week. Out of goodwill, I made three copies and gave them to old 3, who actually stopped playing solitaire on his computer long enough to thank me.

I faxed NeoZed to Accountant 2, and 24 hours later, have heard nothing.

US spy satellites to look inward.

Via the Associated Press, the Department of Homeland Security is set to use US space based imaging systems to spy on it's own citizens. According to the article, plans were delayed however because:

"Last fall, senior Democrats on the House Homeland Security Committee asked the department to put the program on hold until there was a clear legal framework of how the program would operate".

Where are the Republicans on this? Oh wait...it's the big government agency that they created that will do the domestic spying, so it's OK.

Space station crew has gun on board.

It appears that Russian Space Program administrators have armed the ISS crew in fears for their safety should they have to abandon ship only to land for example, in Knoxville's Fort Sanders community after 03: 00 Zulu only to be murdered by the natives. Or should they drift Eastwards from Knoxville, some good shooting could reduce the risk of the astronauts getting eaten by bears in the Great Smokey Mountains National Park. After the trauma of falling from space, and fending off a bear attack, the astronauts would be arrested by the Park Service for going armed in a National Park.

Former NASA engineer Jim Oberg has a great quote:

"...crews would be safer if the gun was locked up or left on Earth".

Yes Jim, the crews would be safer in the station without a gun, but I would hesitate to say that their lives might depend on having it, should they be forced to land in a random location on the slightly less idyllic planet below.

A person who can not be trusted with a gun, can not be trusted with a space station.

I hate to admit it, but Rush is right again.

...."The failure of establishment Republicans, whether they be members of Congress, Washington and New York editorial writers, even some talk show hosts who live and work and socialize in that community, the failure of those people to uphold conservative principles during the last decade or more has resulted in the mess that they are now complaining about"....

The whole thing is a good read. I see the collapse of the Republican Party happening, and it makes me happy!

Hot button Issue: Berkeley Protests

Some Liberal Meanderings on the Berkeley city council resolution to keep the US Marine Corps from recruiting inside the city limits:

The Berkeley City Council won't accomplish it's goal of keeping the Marine recruiters out of the city, but the protests will make the US look a bit less, how should I put it..... less Nazi-ish in the view of other nations. I hear it from Europeans, from Asians, and - big surprise from Middle Easterners, we have a big problem with image. Foreign folks love to compare our fearless President's behavior to that of Adolf Hitler. Many have come to see us all as unfeeling, unstoppable marching minions of Bush.

The general consensus outside our borders is that we have gone off of the deep end in search for cheap oil, and we don't care what excuses we use to get it. The most common excuses we use are we that we are "Defending Freedom", or "Spreading Democracy". To the outside however, it appears to be a clear case of "Defending the Supply Chain" and "Spreading Boreholes".

Why do you suppose we have a naval presence in the Persian Gulf that plays tag with Iranian speedboats? Are our ships "Defending our Freedom"? Or "Spreading Democracy". Uh... No. They are maintaining security for the passage of Supertankers.

So when you are disgusted at the sight of a bunch of pink clad young people waving signs and behaving like infants, take a moment to thank your lucky stars that these folks are out there. Pray that video of their misguided antics makes the rounds in the international community. They are one of the few things that can show the world that we are not a monolithic block of oil grubbing sadistic mercenaries. Them and Brittany Spears, of course.

The Superman Position

Our dog loves to sit on the end of the futon and watch out the front window in order to bark furiously at folks walking to the laundry room, which sits next to our apartment. When we first moved in he thought that these Launderers were coming to our place, as they would walk to the building and disappear into it next to his window. He even went into the back closet in our bedroom in search of the people that kept coming in. He could hear them in the laundry room, but could not see them. For weeks, it never occurred to him that not all doors in the building lead to our domain.

Some launderers take their dogs with them to the laundry room, which turns on his canine barkey superchargers, and as he spools up in volume, his motor control degrades to the point that he tends to bark and shake and shimmy like Elvis performing on a King Sized fire ant mound.

The other day, goaded by the presence of a Launderer and her Jack Russell, he accidentally achieved the ultimate in barkey gyrations: The Super Man Position.

The Superman Position is defined the simultaneous absence of contact between all four paws and a supporting surface for at least 3 seconds while the forepaws are stretched forwards and the rear paws extended rearwards. In real world physics, this is impossible except for in free fall for at least 60 feet, or with the use supporting cables and harness, or in the case of our dog, the following series of events:

Sensing the presence of Laundering Person accompanied by an Infuriating Canine Companion, our dog put his paws on the wooden futon arm rest to maximize his height for the purpose of intimidation. However, in the heat of the moment he made a critical mistake as he forgot that the futon armrest is slippery. He lost his balance and pitched nose forward, his chest supporting his weight on the armrest with his front paws unable to touch the ground. His tail and rear legs extended skywards, like the stern of the Titanic during it's final plunge.

A true trooper, he never completely stopped barking during this pitch forward, but his barking became sporadic and muffled as his head got buried in a box of network cables.

He started kicking his elevated rear legs in an attempt to shift his CG rearwards and get his head out of the box so that he could direct maximum volume at the Russell, and after several seconds of frantic kicking and muffled barking, his nose started to rise out of the box, a few degrees per second, like a shot up B-17G on two engines trying desperately to clear the cliffs of Dover, painfully inching it's chin turret upwards towards the horizon.

As his eyes slowly cleared the top of the box, he could again see the Russell, and his volume increased. Re-invigorated by the realization that he might just make it, he managed to pull level and balanced on his chest on the arm rest, and suspended as if by super powers, he barked his best for a good thirty seconds, his front legs jerking straight forwards and his rear legs extending straight rearward with each bark.

The Russell looked worried, and with good reason, for the Dog in the apartment next to the laundry room is so territorial that he can levitate.

It's called what?

We were at a far Eastern friend's place for what to this point had been a truly excellent dinner. We were talking about movies and movie stars as the host brought out dessert. I looked down to see my dessert dish filled with about 3 ounces of quivering gray goo. I tentatively toyed with the dish with my spoon before raising it to my lips. I gave it a discrete sniff, found it to be odorless and then gingerly tasted it. Unfortunately it was not tasteless. It had a distinct oily and slightly fishy flavor.

The host looked at me for approval, and not wanting to seem rude, I put the entire spoonful of the goo into my mouth, just as the rancid aftertaste started to set in. At precisely the moment I realized that the rancid goop was shot through with crunchy granules, the heavily accented host asked:

"Do you like cat brain schit"?

I two simultaneous thoughts:

1: So that's what it's made of.
2: The name fits.

After downing the vile spoonful of goop what I actually said was:

"What"?

The host repeated:

"Do you like the actress, cat brain schit"?

To which I replied:

"Oh, Cate Blanchette, yes we like her"!

Now when the Centrist CCW and I are confronted by odd foreign foodsorts, we refer to them as "cat brain schit".

I just thought that the world should know:

Scooter the Mouse loves plantain chips.

More thoughts on changing public opinion on Second Ammendmend rights

After reading all of the comments from readers on the "Tyranny in Red Tights" article and response, and spending a long weekend thinking about the issues, I came to the following conclusions:

American Citizens want more personal security.

However, the American Public is in the midst of the decision to forgo self reliance for personal security in favor of a complicated and slow to respond Government run system of personal protection.

The US Government is offering security, and delivering it to the American Public, albeit piecemeal and with high financial overhead. The consequences of this Government provided personal security are a loss of liberty, the gradual creation of a police state, and a general sense of public fear and un-empowerment.

The most glaring deficiency in Government provided personal security is the one to fifteen minute delay between the call for help and the delivery of service. Add to this the delay between the perception of threat and the call for help, and there is a sizable amount of time for a criminal to act before help arrives.

The time delay between perception of threat and armed response for a citizen with a holstered side arm can be measured in a single heartbeat. This is a truth that no amount of anti firearms bias can overcome.

Currently, citizens that choose to arm themselves are marginalized in society, and viewed as backwards at best, dangerous at worst. This weekend, I spend hours thinking about how to change this public mis-perception. I realized that the way to accomplish the change was to sell and offer an alternative form of personal security to the public: Self reliance.

I believe that the best manner in which to demonstrate the superiority of self reliance for personal security to the American Public is to take a multifaceted approach:

• Maximizing the promotion of media stories in which gun owners defend themselves.
• Emphasize the failures of the police state in providing security for it's citizens.
• A Minuteman approach to neighborhood safety.
• Grassroots activism.

Response to "Tyranny in Red Tights"

I read this via Tam, and decided to dust off a post that I had been sitting on for several months, because it was too......too...... out there. Well, here is the Liberal CCW answer to Tyranny in Red Tights.


Pick a gun board, how many posts are there where folks complain about the loss of their second amendment rights? This is a big deal, we dedicate billions of pixels to this in online discussions. Read SouthParkPundit, Josh, poor Josh more restricted than many of us, sitting in California, he can't go about armed. The State Gov't has unconstitutionally removed his second amendment rights. The Republican Governer of California supports this denial of Josh's Second Amendment rights. Josh's writing reads like a guy who could bust a blood pressure cuff right off of his bicep on sheer indignation at his situation. And rightfully so.

Why do firearms owners all chatter nervously about the problem, with no tangible action, just pay their NRA dues, write their Elected Officials, not march on Washington? Because they obey they laws, even when the laws are unconstitutional.


We write our Representatives, and type up a storm on the Internet. In short, we take the easy way out, the safe way, because if we get right down to it, we don't really mean what we say. As I see it, it comes down to this:

1. The US, State and local Governments are guilty of breaking the law as stated in the Second Amendment of the US Bill of Rights.

3. The pro-Second Amendment lobby groups have abysmal track records of reversing the situation.

4. Firearms owners are by a vast majority law abiding patriots, loath to break laws, even unjust ones.

5. In the event of a pervasive erosion or denial of citizens rights, unjust laws will never be reversed by following them, but can only be reversed by a sustained and organized resistance.

Note: The following is only hypothetical, the author does not plan to do any of the following, nor does he suggest that anyone else do any of the following. It is a thought exercise only.

========================================================

In this case, the resistance would be simple.

You could carry.

You could carry everywhere.

You could carry whatever you want in public. Rifles, select fire, if you wished.

Everyone could carry.

We could carry in groups in the streets, and get arrested if need be.

Sure, some folks would go to jail, have their firearms confiscated. Are you serious about your Second Amendment right, serious enough to go to jail to protest your government breaking it's own law?

Rosa Parks was willing to go to jail for her Constitutionally granted rights . MLK died fighting for his.

You might miss work and incur court costs. You might be killed by the police. Are your Second Amendment rights worth it?

=======================================================

End of Thought Exercise.

Meeting the Chief

Last night the Centrist CCW and I met Michell Hicks, the Chief of the Eastern Band of the Cherokee. It was an interesting evening, Chief Hicks is very patriotic, and a sharp businessman, in contrast to the typical college students filling the room. Someone asked about native religion, Chief Hick paused and said:

"Many of the Eastern Band of the Cherokee are Southern Baptist".

Needless to say, this did not get a lot of oohs and ahhs in a university setting, nor any follow up questions.

Another great quote was:

"Native Americans proudly serve in the US Armed Forces in a much higher percentage than the general population".

No one wanted to know why.

It was great to see a real person confront the stereotypes about their people group in front of granola crunchers who come hard wired with a politically correct, and factually incorrect view of Native Americans.

Power to the Flag Waving, Military Serving, God Fearing, Southern Baptist people!

Why you need a WASR-10 in your bedroom.

A home invasion in Ocala FL ended quickly when the resident brought his Romanian AKM to bear on the .25 calibre pistol wielding crooks.

To quote from the "suspected home invaders" upon seeing the home owner with his WASR, via this article:

"Let's get the [expletive] out of here!"

Follow up article.

Liberal CCW State of the Union Reaction

I bring you: The official Liberal CCW impressions of President Bush's 2008 State of the Union Address.

President Bush:

Bush's delivery was riddled throughout with verbal ineptitude. As he slurred his way through his delivery, I wondered if he had gotten his lips caught in a power coupling during the limo ride from the White House. The largest failing in his message, in my opinion, was the oversimplification with which he blanketed his description of our Nation's challenges. As a single example, he referred many times to "The Terrorists", but I think he meant at times Arab Sunni Extremists, Persian Shia Radicals, Arab Shia Radicals, and specifically Hamas, Hezbollah, the Government of Iran, The Taliban and the US Democratic Party that is sympathetic to them. Unfortunately for us, apparently in Bush's brain, the above nasties are all the same. Such thinking must certainly speed the decision making process, but it certainly plays hell with job performance, as witnessed in Iraq, Afghanistan and New Orleans.

Bush sat in front of Vice President Cheney and Nancy Pelosi.

Vice President Dick Cheney:


To be quite frank with you, Cheney scares me. Every time he leaves his trash compactor and surfaces in public, I fear that someone is going to get eaten, or at least drug under murky black water, and roughed up. How can such a disgusting creature consisting of a single eye and many slimy tentacles have run Halliburton, and now sit in the number two seat in the worlds most powerful Nation you ask? I believe that I have found the answer: Ethics don't count.

Nancy Pelosi:


Nancy, oh Nancy! You did such a good job of sitting there looking disapproving! You led your side of the chamber to sit, then stand, then sit again in an amazing display of canine behavioural training. It was such a powerful display of well led sitting, and standing, all while looking thin and disapproving, it was a sight to behold. I just wish that your party delivered a coherent message.

I have a theory that the only reason the Democrats ever win anything is because the Republicans get so self righteous after a term or two in office that they end up pulling truly crazy shenanigans. Like having the NSA warrentlessly wiretap your grandmother, while the CIA is water boarding your kindergarten teacher and the party leaders are having anonymous same-gender fat-white-guy you know what in airport restrooms. Then they put on a big show, denying the wiretapping and bathroom stall geriatric human rodeo riding while justifying the water boarding as "not torture" and as necessary for the fulfilment of some sort of twisted Republican definition of National Security.

After several terms of these Republican gross abuses, American Citizens want a party that is is not so bent on vigorously doing things that seem so patently wrong. The Democrats are a party that has no idea what to do, and so do nothing, making themselves the safer choice.

Bad day at work...

Today, the roar was more of a half second grunt. Down for weeks. Pisser.

What I do for a living.

I tame The Roar.

This morning, I got to work and put my earplugs in, then entered the Chamber of The Source of The Roar, and awakened it into Growl Mode. I flipped the mode switch from Growl to Roar after two minutes of warmup, and my eardrums were rewarded with a increase in the bass tones of the growl, and a deafening shriek which is normal for the transition from from Growl Mode to Full Blown Roar.

Using a series of control boxes, a computer and a quarter million Watts of electrical power, I heat The Roar, change it's volume, squeeze it through bits of metal, and make it work for me. The Roar is my daily companion, co-workers and clients have to shout to be heard over it's constant presence. Some days, I have to tame The Roar to a quiet hiss, others, I let it drown out all other sounds as I live for eight hours immersed in it, as if it were an angry, audible sea.

There are days that The Roar is moving so hot and fast that it burns my fingers, and I have to wear two pairs of thick leather gloves to avoid a trip to the hospital. Some days the roar heats up the work room to over one hundred and twenty five degrees fahrenheit. In the winter The Roar keeps me cozy warm.

Clients pay to have their products subjected to The Roar, and as a Roar Tamer, as I redirect it through a myriad of pipes, I bend it to my will. Clients actually (I find this amazing) take me and the Centrist CCW to dinner, all to learn more about The Roar, and hear tales about taming it. Some have even offered to move me and Centrist CCW across the country, and pay me handsomely to tame their Roars.

The worst days on the job come in two types, Silent Days, when The Roar is broken, and days when Client's Roars are misbehaving.

Silence at work means dirty hands and a careful avoidance of high voltage, while The Inner Workings of The Roar are repaired.

A frantic call from a Client means that elsewhere, money is being lost, and A Roar refuses to be tamed. Unfortunately, problems with a sound as loud as The Roar are hard to diagnose over the phone, you have to immerse yourself in the sound, feel the noise beat your ribcage, let it move the hairs on your head, watch the Mirage of heat it creates.

Forklift Driver Klaus

Warning! Gore, Violence, Reckless Behavior.

If Hillary wins, I'm in for a rough four years.

Hillary is neck and neck with Obama for the Democratic nomination for 2008. If Hillary goes on to win the US Presidency, I will be miserable. Not miserable due to Hillary's Presidency, mind you, but due to the reaction of my conservative kinfolk to Hillary's Presidency. To me, the Clintons come across as booksmart elitist appearancers* and closet frogfacers**. The problem however, is that to my conservative kinfolk, Bill and Hillary Clinton are, to put it delicately, Satan and the Beast. I think that this sulphurous vision of the Clintons predates Bill's Presidency, as I distinctly remember his first day in office, way back in 1991. I was at work, and a rotund man who had been giving unsolicited right wing political commentary for months came in the front door and with his neck veins popping announced:

[Loud, stressed, George Costanza Voice] "I'm Tellin You! Day One! America Under Siege!"

Then he dramatically turned on his heels and walked out of the door. I was thinking about it, there must have been seeds of this Satan and the Beast vision of the Clintons way back in the early nineties, which have now grown into today's Conservative's dark vision of the dastardly duo. I have had my relatives explain to me in condescending tones that Hillary has boats waiting offshore loaded with microchips to implant into every American Citizen, in order to monitor our whereabouts at every moment. When I hemmed and hawed at accepting this dark truth, the relative burst into a tearful rage, yelling at me, shouting that I:

"...was blind to the future planned by the Democratic Party, a future that involved rounding up all American Christians, and then killing them, look, they already have the Ten Commandments out of schools, blah blah blah".

Needless to say, this account of evil Democrats did not scare me in the slightest, but made me doubt the future of the Republican base. What are they telling these poor folks about the opposition? If the right has stooped this low, who will stand up to the left as a conservative voice of logic and reason? Rush Limbaugh? That's like putting Michael Moore in charge of a left leaning thinktank. The results would be entertaining, but in the end, utterly useless.

Now here I sit, faced with the nerve wracking possibility of living for four years in a nation where half of the country believes that the end is just around the corner. My relatives calling to tell me of the latest Hillary scare, longing for the good old days of Bush's term in office. I can see myself spending the next four, or worse, eight years, getting shouted down in public by my relatives for refusing to believe in evidence-less conspiracy theories regarding the impending doom of Western Christendom at the hands of Satan and his wife, the Beast. We as a nation survived the first two Clinton terms, (with a balanced budget) I would dare to bet that The United States of America would survive another Clinton term. My nerves, however, might not.


*Appearancers: Boom to slightly post boom white folks who were born poor and must thus either flaunt a high priced education or a high priced immaculate home to prove to themselves and others that they are not white trash.)

**Frogfacers: Middle aged Americans wearing permanent facial expressions featuring lips that turn down at the corners so that they have a severe frown resembling a frog. Entrenched frogfacers can actually laugh through the frown. Informal statistical oberservations have shown that if a middle aged American female owns a beige Buick that has at least one patriotic sticker on it or a straw hat in the rear window, the said female has a 100% chance of being a frogfacer.