I often have good business ideas, but inevitably they're for someone else. They aren't usually the sorts of things I'm interested in doing, or that I'd be willing to do the start-up work for. I think I'll start posting them here for others to use--and I'll request only a nominal fee (on the honor system) for their use. I make no guarantees as to their profitability, nor do I guarantee that I am the first to think of them--although, if I get the idea from someone else, I will credit them--so if it's posted here, and not credited to anyone else, it's my own original thought, even if someone else may have actually come up with it before me (you follow?).
So, beginning my numbering with this one, here's the Great Thought of this morning:
Network news is quickly losing its market share, partially (perhaps mostly) due to the Internet an partially due to mere indifference of the public. This idea may buy some extra life for network news, or may be the basis for an internet news program.
Instead of hiring the same old prima donna talking heads with big hair to sit at the studio desk and read the news and make concerned faces and noises at the proper times while sucking down 6-7 figure salaries, hire some gifted readers with good voices to read the news. Yeah, I know, that's just radio. But here's the good idea--get some monkeys, dress them up as anchor-persons, and let them cavort on the studio for the video portion of the broadcast. Now don't get me wrong--don't train them to sit and pretend to read the news (if you do, they'll just start demanding 6-7 figure salaries). And you can't cheat and just run clips and old monkey footage. This has to be live action (or recorded but largely unedited) footage. Just get some monkeys, apes, whatever, put 'em in some suits, and set 'em loose on the news desk set. You could do this with a regular group of monkeys, or you could switch up from time to time--today it's chimps, next week orangutans, the following gibbons or mountain gorillas.
Now here's where we make the real money--every show, you have an interview or guest segment. A politician, bureaucrat, activist, whatever is invited to come on the show. They can make whatever statement they want to, talk the whole time about whatever they want to--and no one will ask them hard questions, interrupt, or confront them with inconvenient facts. But they have to sit on stage with the monkeys, no one will interfere with anything the monkeys do while they are there (i.e. no one will prevent the monkeys from doing things to the guest), the guest cannot harm the monkeys in any way, and the guest may not leave until the time on the segment has expired.
Additional market share could be garnered by providing the monkeys with alcohol, sex toys, weapons, and other potentially useful and amusing items. The producers of the program could also exercise a sort of editorial control by matching the species of monkeys to appropriate guests--small hyper monkeys for guests who are merely annoying, and large mountain gorillas to ass-rape major politicians. Granted, the latter may require some training, so make sure the politician is available for several rehearsals prior to air time.
I'm willing to talk reasonable payment terms: barter, small cash payment, a small percentage of the net, whatever.
Thursday, May 19, 2005
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
REAL ID REBELS
Sunni Maravillosa has taken up the standard against the Real ID Act. Check out her blog established for this purpose.
I can't even begin to describe how bad this National Human Tracking Card is/will be. The fact is, it has little to do with safety and security, and everything to do with controlling the masses. I'm not a religious fanatic--I don't even particualrly consider myself a Christian anymore; but I do have to rethink my positions on the whole "Number of the Beast" thing in Revelations when I see crap like this.
I guess this will serve (for now) as my declaration of intent:
I refuse to be numbered, tagged, stamped, implanted, folded, spindled, mutilated, stapled, painted, tattooed, or otherwise marked as property of any government (be it the US Government or any other) or any other individual besides myself. I will resist any attempts to force me to be so numbered, tagged, tracked, etc. by any means I consider necessary. I do not care what the reason or justification may be, I refuse to comply. I will not accept any form of bribery or other reward for allowing myself to be so tagged, nor will I assist in tagging others. I will do everything in my power to prevent myself being tagged, and will do my utmost to assist others in fighting these government property tags. I am not a number, I am a free man! I am not a citizen, a subject, a "case file," or any other such dehumanizing term for what the government considers its property--I an a free human being, a self-owner, and well-prepared to resist any attempts to enslave me. Anyone who thinks to prove me wrong, you're quite welcome to try--but make sure your affairs are in order before you make the attempt--for you will not have time afterwards to do so.
That awkward phase is quickly coming to an end--if not now, then by May 2008.
I can't even begin to describe how bad this National Human Tracking Card is/will be. The fact is, it has little to do with safety and security, and everything to do with controlling the masses. I'm not a religious fanatic--I don't even particualrly consider myself a Christian anymore; but I do have to rethink my positions on the whole "Number of the Beast" thing in Revelations when I see crap like this.
I guess this will serve (for now) as my declaration of intent:
I refuse to be numbered, tagged, stamped, implanted, folded, spindled, mutilated, stapled, painted, tattooed, or otherwise marked as property of any government (be it the US Government or any other) or any other individual besides myself. I will resist any attempts to force me to be so numbered, tagged, tracked, etc. by any means I consider necessary. I do not care what the reason or justification may be, I refuse to comply. I will not accept any form of bribery or other reward for allowing myself to be so tagged, nor will I assist in tagging others. I will do everything in my power to prevent myself being tagged, and will do my utmost to assist others in fighting these government property tags. I am not a number, I am a free man! I am not a citizen, a subject, a "case file," or any other such dehumanizing term for what the government considers its property--I an a free human being, a self-owner, and well-prepared to resist any attempts to enslave me. Anyone who thinks to prove me wrong, you're quite welcome to try--but make sure your affairs are in order before you make the attempt--for you will not have time afterwards to do so.
That awkward phase is quickly coming to an end--if not now, then by May 2008.
Tuesday, May 03, 2005
I gotta get off my ass...
I gotta get off my ass and start marketing my services. I really need to quit my job (but I'd prefer to have my income from my business high enough first). I'm really beyond the edge at work at this point. And folks don't seem to realize it. I'm really quiet at work, not because I'm calm, but precisely because I'm pissed. I'm keeping my mouth shut because otherwise I'd start chewing people out left and right.
If I could find a few competent people to staff the office with before I leave, I wouldn't have to feel bad about leaving my boss in the lurch. But I don't know that I'm gonna be able to find anyone competent. Meanwhile, I just keep taking on more and more, which leaves me less and less time to get anything done on the clock. Also, as 95% of the stuff I do is actually part of my subordinates jobs... I'm sure people think I have a problem with delegation, but that's not the case. I'm great at delegation. But if there's no one competent to do the job, and no one is willing to learn, there's not much I can do.
On the financial front, there are some good gold mining stocks I'm investing in. Might be able to make a little money before the crash in 2010-2012. I'll actually probably pull them out a bit before that. But anyway, with the market relatively low, it's good time to buy in--as long as you get out in time, and as long as you pick the right stocks. I'm going for mining stocks (specifically gold and silver and such) as these are the industries that are gearing up for all the increasing investment in gold as a hedge against inflation.
I bought some more bullets for reloading today--it'd be nice to have them before Saturday--they may be here by then. I got .308 FMJ BTs (150 grain) for my K31. I need to find some .310-.312 for my Enfield. I have a lot of primed brass ready to go--I just need the bullets. My reloading bench is squared away--been set up nice for about two or three weeks now, and it works great. I should start loading for my .45 as well. I have all the stuff to load for my .40, but I think I'm gonna sell my .40 S&W pistol. I don't really care for it anymore--just doesn't compare to the 1911--.45 ACP just speaks with such authority! I may continue to load .40, if it's profitable to sell. Guess I'd better start looking for a buyer.
If I could find a few competent people to staff the office with before I leave, I wouldn't have to feel bad about leaving my boss in the lurch. But I don't know that I'm gonna be able to find anyone competent. Meanwhile, I just keep taking on more and more, which leaves me less and less time to get anything done on the clock. Also, as 95% of the stuff I do is actually part of my subordinates jobs... I'm sure people think I have a problem with delegation, but that's not the case. I'm great at delegation. But if there's no one competent to do the job, and no one is willing to learn, there's not much I can do.
On the financial front, there are some good gold mining stocks I'm investing in. Might be able to make a little money before the crash in 2010-2012. I'll actually probably pull them out a bit before that. But anyway, with the market relatively low, it's good time to buy in--as long as you get out in time, and as long as you pick the right stocks. I'm going for mining stocks (specifically gold and silver and such) as these are the industries that are gearing up for all the increasing investment in gold as a hedge against inflation.
I bought some more bullets for reloading today--it'd be nice to have them before Saturday--they may be here by then. I got .308 FMJ BTs (150 grain) for my K31. I need to find some .310-.312 for my Enfield. I have a lot of primed brass ready to go--I just need the bullets. My reloading bench is squared away--been set up nice for about two or three weeks now, and it works great. I should start loading for my .45 as well. I have all the stuff to load for my .40, but I think I'm gonna sell my .40 S&W pistol. I don't really care for it anymore--just doesn't compare to the 1911--.45 ACP just speaks with such authority! I may continue to load .40, if it's profitable to sell. Guess I'd better start looking for a buyer.
Tuesday, April 19, 2005
Writing, writing, writing...
Same old idiocy at work--I think I get less tolerant every day. I thought I was supposed to mellow with age. It ain't happenin'. I'm getting closer and closer to quitting and heading for the woods.
Anyway, I'v started on another attempt at fiction--I've thrown out all the old stuff and started again. I've got about 3 different story ideas right now. 2 are ones I might serialize online, the other may be suitable for a short story. Don't expect to finish them any time soon--I really need to do plot and character outlines for them. I'm writing a few particular scenes that I have in my head, but I reckon I'll outline around them before I try to write the whole story.
I really don't think I have the talent for fiction, but I may be able to fake the skill for short stories, as long as I don't run too long or do too many. I'd really prefer to hand the stuff over to a real writer, but until one offers to take 'em over, I'll see what I can do.
All three stories are libertarian/anarcho-capitalist in theme. I can't say they're particularly original themes, but we'll see how it works out.
Anyway, I'v started on another attempt at fiction--I've thrown out all the old stuff and started again. I've got about 3 different story ideas right now. 2 are ones I might serialize online, the other may be suitable for a short story. Don't expect to finish them any time soon--I really need to do plot and character outlines for them. I'm writing a few particular scenes that I have in my head, but I reckon I'll outline around them before I try to write the whole story.
I really don't think I have the talent for fiction, but I may be able to fake the skill for short stories, as long as I don't run too long or do too many. I'd really prefer to hand the stuff over to a real writer, but until one offers to take 'em over, I'll see what I can do.
All three stories are libertarian/anarcho-capitalist in theme. I can't say they're particularly original themes, but we'll see how it works out.
Sunday, April 03, 2005
Words that set off my fits...
There are some words that kick off my rants against government. I've promised to provide a list of these words, in order that those who are tired of my rants may, with careful avoidance, prevent these rants as much as possible. Basically, I am sensitized to these words, and the mere mention (even when not directed at me) causes me to twitch and foam at the mouth. These words are:
Government
Taxes
Police
Law Enforcement
"War on Drugs"
"War on Terror"
Lawyer
Attorney
Court
Judge
Public School
[Any of the legion of alphabet soup govgoon agencies, such as DEA, FBI, BATFE, etc.]
Gun Control
Democrat
Republican
Green Party
Socialist
Communist
Liberal
Conservative
Constitution
Bill of Rights
[Any politician at the Federal level, with the one and only exception of Ron Paul--and I ain't too sure about him}
President
Senator
Congressman (I call 'em Congress Critters)
[Any Cabinet Department or Secretary'
Iraq
Afghanistan
Columbia
Venezuela
Iran-Contra
Axis of Evil
Coalition of the Willing
Draft
Conscription
[Any state or local level politician, with the possible exception of a few of the Libertarian ones--and not all of them]
Permit
Privilege
License
Well, now that I think of it, perhaps I just need to link to an English Dictionary site, and highlight the few words that ARE safe. I'll see what I can do.
Government
Taxes
Police
Law Enforcement
"War on Drugs"
"War on Terror"
Lawyer
Attorney
Court
Judge
Public School
[Any of the legion of alphabet soup govgoon agencies, such as DEA, FBI, BATFE, etc.]
Gun Control
Democrat
Republican
Green Party
Socialist
Communist
Liberal
Conservative
Constitution
Bill of Rights
[Any politician at the Federal level, with the one and only exception of Ron Paul--and I ain't too sure about him}
President
Senator
Congressman (I call 'em Congress Critters)
[Any Cabinet Department or Secretary'
Iraq
Afghanistan
Columbia
Venezuela
Iran-Contra
Axis of Evil
Coalition of the Willing
Draft
Conscription
[Any state or local level politician, with the possible exception of a few of the Libertarian ones--and not all of them]
Permit
Privilege
License
Well, now that I think of it, perhaps I just need to link to an English Dictionary site, and highlight the few words that ARE safe. I'll see what I can do.
Saturday, April 02, 2005
The Wild and Free Pigs of the Okefenokee Swamp
"The allegory of the WILD pigs has a serious moral lesson. This story is about federal money being used to bait, trap and enslave a once free and independent people. A body of people who fought a 7-year war, The American Revolution, to establish their independence from a tyrannical king"
The Wild and Free Pigs of the Okefenokee Swamp
based on a telling by George Gordon
Some years ago, about 1900, an old trapper from North Dakota hitched up some horses to his Studebaker wagon, packed a few possessions -- especially his traps -- and drove south. Several weeks later he stopped in a small town just north of the Okefenokee Swamp in Georgia.
It was a Saturday morning -- a lazy day -- when he walked into the general store. Sitting around the pot-bellied stove were seven or eight of the town's local citizens.
The traveler spoke. "Gentlemen, could you direct me to the Okefenokee Swamp?"
Some of the oldtimers looked at him like he was crazy.
"You must be a stranger in these parts," they said.
"I am. I'm from North Dakota," said the stranger.
"In the Okefenokee Swamp are thousands of wild hogs." one old man explained.
"A man who goes into the swamp by himself asks to die!"
He lifted up his leg. "I lost half my leg here, to the pigs of the swamp."
Another old fellow said, "Look at the cuts on me; look at my arm bit off!"
"Those pigs have been free since the Revolution, eating snakes and rooting out roots and fending for themselves for over a hundred years. They're wild and they're dangerous. You can't trap them. No man dare go into the swamp by himself."
Every man nodded his head in agreement.
The old trapper said, "Thank you so much for the warning. Now could you direct me to the swamp?"
They said, "Well, yeah, it's due south -- straight down the road."
But they begged the stranger not to go, because they knew he'd meet a terrible fate.
He said, "Sell me ten sacks of corn, and help me load it in the wagon." And they did.
Then the old trapper bid them farewell and drove on down the road. The townsfolk thought they'd never see him again.
Two weeks later the man came back. He pulled up to the general store, got down off the wagon, walked in and bought ten more sacks of corn.
After loading it up he went back down the road toward the swamp.
Two weeks later he returned and again bought ten sacks of corn.
This went on for a month. And then two months, and three.
Every week or two the old trapper would come into town on a Saturday morning, load up ten sacks of corn, and drive off south into the swamp.
The stranger soon became a legend in the little village and the subject of much speculation. People wondered what kind of devil had possessed this man, that he could go into the Okefenokee by himself and not be consumed by the wild and free hogs.
One morning the man came into town as usual. Everyone thought he wanted more corn.
He got off the wagon and went into the store where the usual group of men were gathered around the stove. He took off his gloves.
"Gentlemen," he said, "I need to hire about ten or fifteen wagons. I need twenty or thirty men."
"I have six thousand hogs out in the swamp, penned up, and they're all hungry. I've got to get them to market right away."
"You've WHAT in the swamp?" asked the storekeeper, incredulously.
"I have six thousand hogs penned up. They haven't eaten for two or three days, and they'll starve if I don't get back there to feed and take care of them."
One of the oldtimers said, "You mean you've captured the wild hogs of the Okefenokee?"
"That's right."
"How did you do that? What did you do?" the men urged, breathlessly.
One of them exclaimed, "But I lost my arm!"
"I lost my brother!" cried another.
"I lost my leg to those wild boars!" chimed a third.
The trapper said, "Well, the first week I went in there they were wild all right."
"They hid in the undergrowth and wouldn't come out. I dared not get off the wagon."
"So I spread corn along behind the wagon. Every day I'd spread a sack of corn."
"The old pigs would have nothing to do with it."
"But the younger pigs decided that it was easier to eat free corn than it was to root out roots and catch snakes. So the very young began to eat the corn first."
"I did this every day. Pretty soon, even the old pigs decided that it was easier to eat free corn."
"After all, they were all free; they were not penned up. They could run off in any direction they wanted at any time."
"The next thing was to get them used to eating in the same place all the time. So I selected a clearing, and I started putting the corn in the clearing."
"At first they wouldn't come to the clearing. It was too far. It was too open. It was a nuisance to them."
"But the very young decided that it was easier to take the corn in the clearing than it was to root out roots and catch their own snakes. And not long thereafter, the older pigs also decided that it was easier to come to the clearing every day."
"And so the pigs learned to come to the clearing every day to get their free corn."
"They could still subsidize their diet with roots and snakes and whatever else they wanted. After all, they were all free. They could run in any direction at any time. There were no bounds upon them."
"The next step was to get them used to fence posts."
"So I put fence posts all the way around the clearing. I put them in the underbrush so that they wouldn't get suspicious or upset."
"After all, they were just sticks sticking up out of the ground, like the trees and the brush. The corn was there every day. It was easy to walk in between the posts, get the corn, and walk back out."
"This went on for a week or two. Shortly they became very used to walking into the clearing, getting the free corn, and walking back out through the fence posts."
"The next step was to put one rail down at the bottom. I also left a few openings, so that the older, fatter pigs could walk through the openings and the younger pigs could easily jump over just one rail."
"After all, it was no real threat to their freedom or independence. They could always jump over the rail and flee in any direction at any time."
"Now I decided that I wouldn't feed them every day. I began to feed them every other day."
"On the days I didn't feed them the pigs still gathered in the clearing. They squealed, and they grunted, and they begged and pleaded with me to feed them."
"But I only fed them every other day. And I put a second rail around the posts."
"Now the pigs became more and more desperate for food. Because now they were no longer used to going out and digging their own roots and finding their own food. They now needed me. They needed my corn every other day."
"So I trained them that I would feed them every day if they came in through a gate. And I put up a third rail around the fence."
"But it was still no great threat to their freedom, because there were several gates and they could run in and out at will."
"Finally I put up the fourth rail."
"Then I closed all the gates but one, and I fed them very, very well."
"Yesterday I closed the last gate. And today I need you to help me take these pigs to market."
-- end of story --
The price of free corn...maybe our liberty!
"Federal welfare, in its myriad forms, has reduced not only individuals to a state of dependency. State and local governments are also on the fast track to elimination, due to their functions being subverted by the command and control structures of federal "revenue sharing" programs. [Within the story] if you use [the words] federal handouts in place of corn and [the words] people in place of the pigs - how close are the American people to having the final rail put in place?"
"Just say NO to federal corn." The bacon you save may be your own."
The Wild and Free Pigs of the Okefenokee Swamp
based on a telling by George Gordon
Some years ago, about 1900, an old trapper from North Dakota hitched up some horses to his Studebaker wagon, packed a few possessions -- especially his traps -- and drove south. Several weeks later he stopped in a small town just north of the Okefenokee Swamp in Georgia.
It was a Saturday morning -- a lazy day -- when he walked into the general store. Sitting around the pot-bellied stove were seven or eight of the town's local citizens.
The traveler spoke. "Gentlemen, could you direct me to the Okefenokee Swamp?"
Some of the oldtimers looked at him like he was crazy.
"You must be a stranger in these parts," they said.
"I am. I'm from North Dakota," said the stranger.
"In the Okefenokee Swamp are thousands of wild hogs." one old man explained.
"A man who goes into the swamp by himself asks to die!"
He lifted up his leg. "I lost half my leg here, to the pigs of the swamp."
Another old fellow said, "Look at the cuts on me; look at my arm bit off!"
"Those pigs have been free since the Revolution, eating snakes and rooting out roots and fending for themselves for over a hundred years. They're wild and they're dangerous. You can't trap them. No man dare go into the swamp by himself."
Every man nodded his head in agreement.
The old trapper said, "Thank you so much for the warning. Now could you direct me to the swamp?"
They said, "Well, yeah, it's due south -- straight down the road."
But they begged the stranger not to go, because they knew he'd meet a terrible fate.
He said, "Sell me ten sacks of corn, and help me load it in the wagon." And they did.
Then the old trapper bid them farewell and drove on down the road. The townsfolk thought they'd never see him again.
Two weeks later the man came back. He pulled up to the general store, got down off the wagon, walked in and bought ten more sacks of corn.
After loading it up he went back down the road toward the swamp.
Two weeks later he returned and again bought ten sacks of corn.
This went on for a month. And then two months, and three.
Every week or two the old trapper would come into town on a Saturday morning, load up ten sacks of corn, and drive off south into the swamp.
The stranger soon became a legend in the little village and the subject of much speculation. People wondered what kind of devil had possessed this man, that he could go into the Okefenokee by himself and not be consumed by the wild and free hogs.
One morning the man came into town as usual. Everyone thought he wanted more corn.
He got off the wagon and went into the store where the usual group of men were gathered around the stove. He took off his gloves.
"Gentlemen," he said, "I need to hire about ten or fifteen wagons. I need twenty or thirty men."
"I have six thousand hogs out in the swamp, penned up, and they're all hungry. I've got to get them to market right away."
"You've WHAT in the swamp?" asked the storekeeper, incredulously.
"I have six thousand hogs penned up. They haven't eaten for two or three days, and they'll starve if I don't get back there to feed and take care of them."
One of the oldtimers said, "You mean you've captured the wild hogs of the Okefenokee?"
"That's right."
"How did you do that? What did you do?" the men urged, breathlessly.
One of them exclaimed, "But I lost my arm!"
"I lost my brother!" cried another.
"I lost my leg to those wild boars!" chimed a third.
The trapper said, "Well, the first week I went in there they were wild all right."
"They hid in the undergrowth and wouldn't come out. I dared not get off the wagon."
"So I spread corn along behind the wagon. Every day I'd spread a sack of corn."
"The old pigs would have nothing to do with it."
"But the younger pigs decided that it was easier to eat free corn than it was to root out roots and catch snakes. So the very young began to eat the corn first."
"I did this every day. Pretty soon, even the old pigs decided that it was easier to eat free corn."
"After all, they were all free; they were not penned up. They could run off in any direction they wanted at any time."
"The next thing was to get them used to eating in the same place all the time. So I selected a clearing, and I started putting the corn in the clearing."
"At first they wouldn't come to the clearing. It was too far. It was too open. It was a nuisance to them."
"But the very young decided that it was easier to take the corn in the clearing than it was to root out roots and catch their own snakes. And not long thereafter, the older pigs also decided that it was easier to come to the clearing every day."
"And so the pigs learned to come to the clearing every day to get their free corn."
"They could still subsidize their diet with roots and snakes and whatever else they wanted. After all, they were all free. They could run in any direction at any time. There were no bounds upon them."
"The next step was to get them used to fence posts."
"So I put fence posts all the way around the clearing. I put them in the underbrush so that they wouldn't get suspicious or upset."
"After all, they were just sticks sticking up out of the ground, like the trees and the brush. The corn was there every day. It was easy to walk in between the posts, get the corn, and walk back out."
"This went on for a week or two. Shortly they became very used to walking into the clearing, getting the free corn, and walking back out through the fence posts."
"The next step was to put one rail down at the bottom. I also left a few openings, so that the older, fatter pigs could walk through the openings and the younger pigs could easily jump over just one rail."
"After all, it was no real threat to their freedom or independence. They could always jump over the rail and flee in any direction at any time."
"Now I decided that I wouldn't feed them every day. I began to feed them every other day."
"On the days I didn't feed them the pigs still gathered in the clearing. They squealed, and they grunted, and they begged and pleaded with me to feed them."
"But I only fed them every other day. And I put a second rail around the posts."
"Now the pigs became more and more desperate for food. Because now they were no longer used to going out and digging their own roots and finding their own food. They now needed me. They needed my corn every other day."
"So I trained them that I would feed them every day if they came in through a gate. And I put up a third rail around the fence."
"But it was still no great threat to their freedom, because there were several gates and they could run in and out at will."
"Finally I put up the fourth rail."
"Then I closed all the gates but one, and I fed them very, very well."
"Yesterday I closed the last gate. And today I need you to help me take these pigs to market."
-- end of story --
The price of free corn...maybe our liberty!
"Federal welfare, in its myriad forms, has reduced not only individuals to a state of dependency. State and local governments are also on the fast track to elimination, due to their functions being subverted by the command and control structures of federal "revenue sharing" programs. [Within the story] if you use [the words] federal handouts in place of corn and [the words] people in place of the pigs - how close are the American people to having the final rail put in place?"
"Just say NO to federal corn." The bacon you save may be your own."
Finally!
My power went out two nights ago--bad thunderstorms for the past couple days and such. Came home from work tonight--still no power. So I hit the bar downtown until midnight--then when I came home: POWER!
It may have been an inconvenience, but I think I've learned something from all this: If you have a problem, and nothing else seems to work, DRINK. When you've had enough to drink, the problem will correct itself.
Well, perhaps the theory needs some more testing.
I sanded down the stock on my K31--not enough to significantly change it--just enough to remove the finish and smooth out the worst of the dings (also used an iron and damp cloth to pull some out before sanding). I just finished putting the second coat of dark walnut stain on it--I'm hoping the beach will take the stain well. I'll probably be reassembling the rifle and taking it shooting tomorrow (today, actually) provided I can pick up some ammo. I really have to get some reloading equipment for it. I did win an auction--480 rounds of 7.5mm Swiss will be on its way as soon as the seller contacts me with payment instructions. Looks like $179 + shipping--not too bad a deal from what I've seen.
It may have been an inconvenience, but I think I've learned something from all this: If you have a problem, and nothing else seems to work, DRINK. When you've had enough to drink, the problem will correct itself.
Well, perhaps the theory needs some more testing.
I sanded down the stock on my K31--not enough to significantly change it--just enough to remove the finish and smooth out the worst of the dings (also used an iron and damp cloth to pull some out before sanding). I just finished putting the second coat of dark walnut stain on it--I'm hoping the beach will take the stain well. I'll probably be reassembling the rifle and taking it shooting tomorrow (today, actually) provided I can pick up some ammo. I really have to get some reloading equipment for it. I did win an auction--480 rounds of 7.5mm Swiss will be on its way as soon as the seller contacts me with payment instructions. Looks like $179 + shipping--not too bad a deal from what I've seen.
Wednesday, March 30, 2005
Random Pithy Quote
Don't worry if you don't know what eschatology is; it's not the end of the world.
Ripped off from http://thefifthimperium.com/
Ripped off from http://thefifthimperium.com/
Sunday, March 27, 2005
Been a while...
Well, It's been a while since I sat down and did any writing. I did manage to get an article done for Liberty For All--something I've been meaning to do for more than a year now. Guess I'm lucky writing doesn't pay my bills--because if it did, it wouldn't. I don't care if you don't find that amusing--I do.
I'll have to compile the list of words that set off my rants--if I do sit down to do it, it'll set me off. Reckon I fill up this blog then.
My damn car broke down week before last. I swear Alabama is a jinx on vehicles for me. I've gone thru three vehicles in the past year. Now I've got to look for another one. My damn timing belt broke on my 1992 Honda Accord, and the garage wants $3500 to fix it. And the damn car was doing so well until it broke--I put 12000 miles on it since October when I got it. Well, gotta be on the look out for another--two more, actually. I need a spare if one breaks down. Something in the $1,000 range. If I spend more than that, the damn thing will break on me anyway, but I'll just get screwed on the deal.
Well, even though I'm supposed to be looking for a vehicle, I made an impulse buy yesterday. I picked up a Swiss K31 Rifle. I'm in love. It looks unusual--it has a straight pull bolt, rather than the turned bolt I usually prefer. I picked up 30 rounds for this baby and took it to the range--it's an unusual caliber, 7.5mm Swiss. It's a little fatter case than 8mm Mauser, and seems to have a little more recoil. Might be my imagination, but that's how it seemed to me. I haven't looked up the ballistics info on the round yet--gotta do that. I did find the manuals for the rifle online, and that ammo is a little hard to come by. Guess I'll have to find some reloading equipment & components for this caliber too.
I did pick up a load kit from Lee Precision for my 7.62X54R, even though ammo is still fairly cheap for that caliber. .303 British is getting a little harder to find, and more expensive, so I've been loading that caliber myself now. I'm out of powder though, so even though I have sized, polished, and primed more brass, I'll have to get a vehicle soon so I can get to the guns store and buy powder so I can do some more shooting.
I have been doing pretty well at reaching my goal of an average of 100 rounds per week at the range--although I should really be doing that in both my .45 and at least one of my battle rifles. If I can get a good source of ammo for my K31, and depending on the ballistics, it may replace my beloved Enfield as my primary battle rifle--even though the magazine for the K31 only holds 6 rounds as compared to the Enfield's 10.
Of course, I ought to convert to the standard Liberty Battle Rifle Cartridge--.308, but I haven't been particularly impressed with any .308 rifles. A G-3 of some sort may be ok--something like the CETME, but I'm troubled by the reports I've heard of extraction problems, and I did see one at the range that was mangling the brass pretty badly.
I reckon I'll be ok as long as I cache plenty of ammo in my preferred calibers, and components and such, and perhaps a few extra reloading kits--Lee's classic set is small (about the size of a paperback book) and cheap ($20 plus shipping) as well as very reliable and well made.
I'll have to compile the list of words that set off my rants--if I do sit down to do it, it'll set me off. Reckon I fill up this blog then.
My damn car broke down week before last. I swear Alabama is a jinx on vehicles for me. I've gone thru three vehicles in the past year. Now I've got to look for another one. My damn timing belt broke on my 1992 Honda Accord, and the garage wants $3500 to fix it. And the damn car was doing so well until it broke--I put 12000 miles on it since October when I got it. Well, gotta be on the look out for another--two more, actually. I need a spare if one breaks down. Something in the $1,000 range. If I spend more than that, the damn thing will break on me anyway, but I'll just get screwed on the deal.
Well, even though I'm supposed to be looking for a vehicle, I made an impulse buy yesterday. I picked up a Swiss K31 Rifle. I'm in love. It looks unusual--it has a straight pull bolt, rather than the turned bolt I usually prefer. I picked up 30 rounds for this baby and took it to the range--it's an unusual caliber, 7.5mm Swiss. It's a little fatter case than 8mm Mauser, and seems to have a little more recoil. Might be my imagination, but that's how it seemed to me. I haven't looked up the ballistics info on the round yet--gotta do that. I did find the manuals for the rifle online, and that ammo is a little hard to come by. Guess I'll have to find some reloading equipment & components for this caliber too.
I did pick up a load kit from Lee Precision for my 7.62X54R, even though ammo is still fairly cheap for that caliber. .303 British is getting a little harder to find, and more expensive, so I've been loading that caliber myself now. I'm out of powder though, so even though I have sized, polished, and primed more brass, I'll have to get a vehicle soon so I can get to the guns store and buy powder so I can do some more shooting.
I have been doing pretty well at reaching my goal of an average of 100 rounds per week at the range--although I should really be doing that in both my .45 and at least one of my battle rifles. If I can get a good source of ammo for my K31, and depending on the ballistics, it may replace my beloved Enfield as my primary battle rifle--even though the magazine for the K31 only holds 6 rounds as compared to the Enfield's 10.
Of course, I ought to convert to the standard Liberty Battle Rifle Cartridge--.308, but I haven't been particularly impressed with any .308 rifles. A G-3 of some sort may be ok--something like the CETME, but I'm troubled by the reports I've heard of extraction problems, and I did see one at the range that was mangling the brass pretty badly.
I reckon I'll be ok as long as I cache plenty of ammo in my preferred calibers, and components and such, and perhaps a few extra reloading kits--Lee's classic set is small (about the size of a paperback book) and cheap ($20 plus shipping) as well as very reliable and well made.
Thursday, January 20, 2005
Mises Lecture II
Took the day off again today and went to a lecture at the Mises Institute. Today's topic was: "What the Government Doesn't Want You to Know About Tobacco." Can't say I was especially interested in the topic, but as before, it brought up a lot of interesting information and discussion. It wasn't a "Pro-Tobacco" or even an "Anti-Tobacco" talk--it was just the facts. I'm not sure if anyone there were smokers--most seemd not. But it was interesting. We didn't range as widely in our discussion as last time, but it was interesting to see the ways in which the anti-smoking nazis in the government used the same tactics they do in every other area--fudge or outright fake the statistics, lie about the numbers, deny, accuse, lie, lie, lie, instill irrational fear, lie some more.
The Auburn University Libertarians threw their first event of the year tonight. Actually, Wednesday and Thursday they ran an OPH Booth (Operation Politically Homeless) and then tonight they had Dick Clark (the president of the Auburn Libertarians until he graduated last semester) speak on "An Introduction to Libertarianism." He did pretty well, although I think he was a bit nervous. I thought I could have made a couple of the points more clear, but maybe not. After he was done, I helped answer a few questions, but there were a couple of folks who didn't seem to take what I said well. Of course, there were a couple who did. Can't satisfy everyone.
I was a bit disappointed in one veteran just back from Iraq. He just seemed determined to not get my point, and more importantly, to be determined to take offense at what I said--to the point of (unconsciously, I'm sure) editing what I said to mean what he expected to hear from an anti-war group. I of course feel a connection with the vets, but they don't seem to be able to make the connection themselves. Of course, that's to be expected by and large, but it doesn't stop mne from feeling a sense of failure. Probably too many people around--if I can get 'em one on one, it seems to work better. Maybe it's because we both have to skirt around too much when there are civilians around and between.
Anyway, overall the day was pretty damn good.
The Auburn University Libertarians threw their first event of the year tonight. Actually, Wednesday and Thursday they ran an OPH Booth (Operation Politically Homeless) and then tonight they had Dick Clark (the president of the Auburn Libertarians until he graduated last semester) speak on "An Introduction to Libertarianism." He did pretty well, although I think he was a bit nervous. I thought I could have made a couple of the points more clear, but maybe not. After he was done, I helped answer a few questions, but there were a couple of folks who didn't seem to take what I said well. Of course, there were a couple who did. Can't satisfy everyone.
I was a bit disappointed in one veteran just back from Iraq. He just seemed determined to not get my point, and more importantly, to be determined to take offense at what I said--to the point of (unconsciously, I'm sure) editing what I said to mean what he expected to hear from an anti-war group. I of course feel a connection with the vets, but they don't seem to be able to make the connection themselves. Of course, that's to be expected by and large, but it doesn't stop mne from feeling a sense of failure. Probably too many people around--if I can get 'em one on one, it seems to work better. Maybe it's because we both have to skirt around too much when there are civilians around and between.
Anyway, overall the day was pretty damn good.
Thursday, January 13, 2005
Mises Lecture
Took the day off from work today, to attend a seminar at the Mises Institute. The Seminar was titled "Does Alabama Need More Taxes." The answer, obviously, was "No." But the discussion was great, and the topics we covered were many. Dr. Mark Thornton, the speaker, made some very interesting points. He compared Alabama to its neighboring states, thus making the comparison a regional one, rather than comparing it to basically meaningless national averages. His argument was that the surrounding states have a similar population, similar economies, and so forth, making a comparison more meaningful.
Alabama's Government, it turns out, has a higher revenue stream per capita than any of the surrounding states. It also spends more per capita, to generally less effect. One of the biggest spending items is education, and I think we all know how well that works (i.e. it doesn't). So we got into a big discussion about education issues, the consensus being that there needs to be separation of school and state.
It's so nice to be able to spend time with intelligent and educated folks.
Alabama's Government, it turns out, has a higher revenue stream per capita than any of the surrounding states. It also spends more per capita, to generally less effect. One of the biggest spending items is education, and I think we all know how well that works (i.e. it doesn't). So we got into a big discussion about education issues, the consensus being that there needs to be separation of school and state.
It's so nice to be able to spend time with intelligent and educated folks.
Monday, January 03, 2005
Happy New Year
Just got back from visiting the family for the holidays--had a blast. The whole crew was there: My brother and his sort of perhaps fiance (we hope) Maria, My sister, her husband Barry, and their daughter Mackenzie, as well as my parents and myself. We had a good time, exchanged Christmas gifts (we all got good loot) and shot off fireworks for New Years. Ate good food, watched good TV (Black Adder, Thin Blue Line, Good bye Lenin, Keeping Up Appearances, etc.) read good books, had good conversations, etc.
PGP Public Key
Here's my new Public Key for PGP. I highly recommend the program for encryption--if anyone knows of one which is: 1) More Secure 2) Easier To Use or knows that there is some problem with PGP (for example, if PGP has given the No Such Agency a back door) please let me know.
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Friday, December 24, 2004
Epitaph
Epitaph for the Spartans who fell at Thermopylae
Go tell the Spartans,
Passerby,
That here, obedient to their laws,
We lie.
-- Simonides
If you haven't heard of the Battle of Thermopylae, you don't know near enough history--it's only one of the most famous battles in history. King Leonidas of Sparta and 300 Spartan Soldiers (along with perhaps 2,000 assorted other Greeks) held the pass of Thermopolye against the invading Persian Army under Xerxes of (according to some estimates) as many as 1 Million for 3 days.
Go tell the Spartans,
Passerby,
That here, obedient to their laws,
We lie.
-- Simonides
If you haven't heard of the Battle of Thermopylae, you don't know near enough history--it's only one of the most famous battles in history. King Leonidas of Sparta and 300 Spartan Soldiers (along with perhaps 2,000 assorted other Greeks) held the pass of Thermopolye against the invading Persian Army under Xerxes of (according to some estimates) as many as 1 Million for 3 days.
Another Poem
Arithmetic on the Frontier
A great and glorious thing it is
To learn, for seven years or so,
The Lord knows what of that and this,
Ere reckoned fit to face the foe --
The flying bullet down the Pass,
That whistles clear: "All flesh is grass."
Three hundred pounds per annum spent
On making brain and body meeter
For all the murderous intent
Comprised in "villanous saltpetre!"
And after -- ask the Yusufzaies
What comes of all our 'ologies.
A scrimmage in a Border Station --
A canter down some dark defile --
Two thousand pounds of education
Drops to a ten-rupee jezail --
The Crammer's boast, the Squadron's pride,
Shot like a rabbit in a ride!
No proposition Euclid wrote,
No formulae the text-books know,
Will turn the bullet from your coat,
Or ward the tulwar's downward blow
Strike hard who cares -- shoot straight who can --
The odds are on the cheaper man.
One sword-knot stolen from the camp
Will pay for all the school expenses
Of any Kurrum Valley scamp
Who knows no word of moods and tenses,
But, being blessed with perfect sight,
Picks off our messmates left and right.
With home-bred hordes the hillsides teem,
The troopships bring us one by one,
At vast expense of time and steam,
To slay Afridis where they run.
The "captives of our bow and spear"
Are cheap, alas! as we are dear.
-- Rudyard Kipling
For any who don't understand the context of this poem, Kipling was writing about the British involvement in Afghanistan--the Pass he refers in the first stanza is the Khyber Pass. Iraq seems to be getting all the attention, but believe me, we're still filling the body bags with American kids in Afghanistan. So much for learning from History--the last person to conquer and hold Afghanistan was Alexander the Great, and he didn't hold it long, or conquer it easy.
A great and glorious thing it is
To learn, for seven years or so,
The Lord knows what of that and this,
Ere reckoned fit to face the foe --
The flying bullet down the Pass,
That whistles clear: "All flesh is grass."
Three hundred pounds per annum spent
On making brain and body meeter
For all the murderous intent
Comprised in "villanous saltpetre!"
And after -- ask the Yusufzaies
What comes of all our 'ologies.
A scrimmage in a Border Station --
A canter down some dark defile --
Two thousand pounds of education
Drops to a ten-rupee jezail --
The Crammer's boast, the Squadron's pride,
Shot like a rabbit in a ride!
No proposition Euclid wrote,
No formulae the text-books know,
Will turn the bullet from your coat,
Or ward the tulwar's downward blow
Strike hard who cares -- shoot straight who can --
The odds are on the cheaper man.
One sword-knot stolen from the camp
Will pay for all the school expenses
Of any Kurrum Valley scamp
Who knows no word of moods and tenses,
But, being blessed with perfect sight,
Picks off our messmates left and right.
With home-bred hordes the hillsides teem,
The troopships bring us one by one,
At vast expense of time and steam,
To slay Afridis where they run.
The "captives of our bow and spear"
Are cheap, alas! as we are dear.
-- Rudyard Kipling
For any who don't understand the context of this poem, Kipling was writing about the British involvement in Afghanistan--the Pass he refers in the first stanza is the Khyber Pass. Iraq seems to be getting all the attention, but believe me, we're still filling the body bags with American kids in Afghanistan. So much for learning from History--the last person to conquer and hold Afghanistan was Alexander the Great, and he didn't hold it long, or conquer it easy.
Poem
The Veteran
May 1916
We came upon him sitting in the sun,
Blinded by war, and left. And past the fence
There came young soldiers from the Hand and Flower,
Asking advice of his experience.
And he said this, and that, and told them tales,
And all the nightmares of each empty head
Blew into air; then, hearing us beside,
"Poor chaps, how'd they know what it's like?"
he said.
And we stood there, and watched him as he sat,
Turning his sockets where they went away,
Until it came to one of us to ask
"And you're -- how old?"
"Nineteen, the third of May."
-- Margaret Postgate Cole
May 1916
We came upon him sitting in the sun,
Blinded by war, and left. And past the fence
There came young soldiers from the Hand and Flower,
Asking advice of his experience.
And he said this, and that, and told them tales,
And all the nightmares of each empty head
Blew into air; then, hearing us beside,
"Poor chaps, how'd they know what it's like?"
he said.
And we stood there, and watched him as he sat,
Turning his sockets where they went away,
Until it came to one of us to ask
"And you're -- how old?"
"Nineteen, the third of May."
-- Margaret Postgate Cole
Saturday, December 18, 2004
The Various Wars of the US Government
OK folks, you'll hear it from me time and time again, but here it is, be it for the first time or the million-something time: The various wars (yes, that's plural) the US Government is involved in are wrong, stupid, self-defeating, evil, etc.
Now keep in mind, I am a 10 year veteran of the Army. I have travelled to exotic places, met new and interesting people from strange societies, and killed them. I'm past the draft age, even if they did draft prior service; I have no children to be drafted; and even if they did start calling back prior service, I'm fat and wouldn't pass the physical anymore, so I'm pretty far down on the list. So the draft holds no fears for my own hide, nor that of my nonexistent children.
But the US Government currently has combat operations under way in something like 150 countries. Iraq is the only one really in the news these days, but keep in mind we're still taking casualties in Afghanistan, we're taking them in Columbia, we're taking them in Korea (about 30 - 40 per year) and so on. Columbia has been going on (this latest time, anyway) since the 1980s, Korea since 1953, etc.
The US Government is running short of manpower for all these wars. Even with stop-loss, they have been unable to make the numbers they need. And they don't seem to be interested in cutting off any of these many wars--even to focus more on the others. And they damn sure haven't stopped making enemies.
So, as I've been saying for two or three years now, the Draft is coming. And it won't be long now.
Talk all you want to about foreign policy, non-proliferation, terrorism, oil prices, etc. Complain all you like about idealism and isolationism and so forth.
I've got one thing to say to you:
That's what it's all about, people. Kids are coming home in body-bags. And for what? How many of your kids will you kill to arrest Sadam Hussein? How many for Chemical Ali? How many for Osama bin Laden? How many for those nameless "insurgents" in Iraq? How many for those nameless militia members in Afghanistan? How many of your children are you willing to kill so that poor Columbian farmers have a slightly tougher time growing coca plants? How many teenagers are you willing to blow up? How many college-aged kids are you willing to gut with a bayonet? How many newly-graduated high school seniors are you willing to shoot in the head? How many childrens' throats are you willing to slit?
I know your teenager frustrates you, and you say you'd like to strangle them sometimes--how would you like to do it for real? You can dress them and their friends up in camoflage after they graduate high school, and take them camping. Then you set up camp at night, and put a few of them on watch, while the rest sleep. Then, at about 2AM, you and the rest of the kids parents can sneak up behind the ones on guard duty, and kill them as quietly as possible--so that you can catch the others in their sleeping bags. Some wire, a few knives, and your bare hands. Stab them in the kidneys, slash their throats, garrot them, snap their necks, etc.
Better yet--tell 'em all you're gonna do it. Tell 'em they all have to go, but you're only gonna kill some of them. They won't know who; they won't know how; they won't know when. And tell 'em that some of them, you're gonna just maim. Maybe you'll blow the high school quarterback's leg off with a mine. You'll leave the chearleader's face scarred for life with an explosion. You'll shoot the baseball player's arm off with a .50 cal, you'll paralyze the soccer player, and you'll give the chess team massive head wounds and brain damage.
But wait--it gets better! Tell 'em you'll give some of them weapons. Of course, the weapons they will get are made by the lowest bidder, and aren't that reliable, and only some of them will get them, and even those who do won't necessarily get ammunition. And tell 'em your gonna turn 'em into killers, whether they want to be or not. Hey kid, either you kill that foreign kid, or he's gonna kill you!
They might not sleep much, because of the dreams, and because they don't have someone they can trust to stand watch. They might have to get up and walk the perimeter several times a night. They might get confused from time to time about when and where they are. They might not be much on hanging out with the group anymore. They might have little nervous tics and habits, like never sitting with their back to a door, being a bit jumpy around sudden and/or loud noises, and just generally not liking surprises anymore.
They won't have an easy time finding a job--not too many places want to hire someone who doesn't have any experience or skills from the last few years but killing, tank-gunning, mine-sweeping, and so forth. And with all those skills, they'll just fit right in at college, trying to get a piece of paper that'll get them hired, won't they? And when they show up to the interview, and are seated with their back to the door, and they keep looking back over their shoulder, doesn't that make a good impression?
And of course, they won't be much fun at parties. They'll either be wound too tight to drink, or they'll drink too much and get mean. Of course, it'll take 'em a few times to catch on that when they go to these parties, and folks ask them what it was like, that they should just say something non-comittal and move on. Because no one wants to hear what it was really like to stab the sentry and ease them quietly to the ground only to find they were a teenage girl. No one wants to hear what it's like trying to push your friends intestines back into his gut while you scream for a medic. And no one wants to hear about the time you were so strung out from going without sleep and food and being afraid all the time and were clearing some buildings, and ended up shooting a child who just came around the corner too fast with a stick in his hand.
Yep. Hope that's how you want your (surviving) children to be--'cause that's how they will be. If you don't want them to turn out that way, what are you gonna do to stop it?
Now keep in mind, I am a 10 year veteran of the Army. I have travelled to exotic places, met new and interesting people from strange societies, and killed them. I'm past the draft age, even if they did draft prior service; I have no children to be drafted; and even if they did start calling back prior service, I'm fat and wouldn't pass the physical anymore, so I'm pretty far down on the list. So the draft holds no fears for my own hide, nor that of my nonexistent children.
But the US Government currently has combat operations under way in something like 150 countries. Iraq is the only one really in the news these days, but keep in mind we're still taking casualties in Afghanistan, we're taking them in Columbia, we're taking them in Korea (about 30 - 40 per year) and so on. Columbia has been going on (this latest time, anyway) since the 1980s, Korea since 1953, etc.
The US Government is running short of manpower for all these wars. Even with stop-loss, they have been unable to make the numbers they need. And they don't seem to be interested in cutting off any of these many wars--even to focus more on the others. And they damn sure haven't stopped making enemies.
So, as I've been saying for two or three years now, the Draft is coming. And it won't be long now.
Talk all you want to about foreign policy, non-proliferation, terrorism, oil prices, etc. Complain all you like about idealism and isolationism and so forth.
I've got one thing to say to you:
"KIDS IN FUCKIN' BODY-BAGS!"
That's what it's all about, people. Kids are coming home in body-bags. And for what? How many of your kids will you kill to arrest Sadam Hussein? How many for Chemical Ali? How many for Osama bin Laden? How many for those nameless "insurgents" in Iraq? How many for those nameless militia members in Afghanistan? How many of your children are you willing to kill so that poor Columbian farmers have a slightly tougher time growing coca plants? How many teenagers are you willing to blow up? How many college-aged kids are you willing to gut with a bayonet? How many newly-graduated high school seniors are you willing to shoot in the head? How many childrens' throats are you willing to slit?
I know your teenager frustrates you, and you say you'd like to strangle them sometimes--how would you like to do it for real? You can dress them and their friends up in camoflage after they graduate high school, and take them camping. Then you set up camp at night, and put a few of them on watch, while the rest sleep. Then, at about 2AM, you and the rest of the kids parents can sneak up behind the ones on guard duty, and kill them as quietly as possible--so that you can catch the others in their sleeping bags. Some wire, a few knives, and your bare hands. Stab them in the kidneys, slash their throats, garrot them, snap their necks, etc.
Better yet--tell 'em all you're gonna do it. Tell 'em they all have to go, but you're only gonna kill some of them. They won't know who; they won't know how; they won't know when. And tell 'em that some of them, you're gonna just maim. Maybe you'll blow the high school quarterback's leg off with a mine. You'll leave the chearleader's face scarred for life with an explosion. You'll shoot the baseball player's arm off with a .50 cal, you'll paralyze the soccer player, and you'll give the chess team massive head wounds and brain damage.
Tell Billy he'd better get laid before he goes--because you're gonna shoot his balls off, and he'll never get a chance again. Tell Susie she'd better freeze those eggs and set up a surrogate mother, because you're gonna shoot her low in the abdomen, and she'll never be able to carry a child of her own. Tell the guitarist you're gonna shoot his hand, and he'll never have full use of his fingers again. Tell the painter you're going to blind her. Tell the composer that an explosion is gonna leave him deaf--and hey, what is he cryin' about? Beethoven was deaf too, damnit--quit bein' a pussy!
But wait--it gets better! Tell 'em you'll give some of them weapons. Of course, the weapons they will get are made by the lowest bidder, and aren't that reliable, and only some of them will get them, and even those who do won't necessarily get ammunition. And tell 'em your gonna turn 'em into killers, whether they want to be or not. Hey kid, either you kill that foreign kid, or he's gonna kill you!
And when they come back, just think how great it will be! The ones who actually come back, anyway. And so long as they can still live on their own, and won't have to spend the rest of their lives in a hospital, and having someone else wipe their ass and give them sponge-baths. They'll be killers--some of them. And they won't take little shit like walking through doors, and going out to the store, and going out to eat for granted anymore. Because they'll be looking for ambushes, even if only unconsciously. They'll damn sure not walk on your grass anymore--there could be mines under it.
They might not sleep much, because of the dreams, and because they don't have someone they can trust to stand watch. They might have to get up and walk the perimeter several times a night. They might get confused from time to time about when and where they are. They might not be much on hanging out with the group anymore. They might have little nervous tics and habits, like never sitting with their back to a door, being a bit jumpy around sudden and/or loud noises, and just generally not liking surprises anymore.
They won't have an easy time finding a job--not too many places want to hire someone who doesn't have any experience or skills from the last few years but killing, tank-gunning, mine-sweeping, and so forth. And with all those skills, they'll just fit right in at college, trying to get a piece of paper that'll get them hired, won't they? And when they show up to the interview, and are seated with their back to the door, and they keep looking back over their shoulder, doesn't that make a good impression?
And of course, they won't be much fun at parties. They'll either be wound too tight to drink, or they'll drink too much and get mean. Of course, it'll take 'em a few times to catch on that when they go to these parties, and folks ask them what it was like, that they should just say something non-comittal and move on. Because no one wants to hear what it was really like to stab the sentry and ease them quietly to the ground only to find they were a teenage girl. No one wants to hear what it's like trying to push your friends intestines back into his gut while you scream for a medic. And no one wants to hear about the time you were so strung out from going without sleep and food and being afraid all the time and were clearing some buildings, and ended up shooting a child who just came around the corner too fast with a stick in his hand.
Yep. Hope that's how you want your (surviving) children to be--'cause that's how they will be. If you don't want them to turn out that way, what are you gonna do to stop it?
Sunday, November 28, 2004
Happy Holidays
Just got back last night from driving 500 miles to my parents place for Thanksgiving Dinner. Great time had by all, as usual--got to see my brother and his girlfriend, some friends of the family and such. Only was there for two days, but that's the way it goes.
I don't like the distance, which requires a lot of scheduling difficulties to visit, but the drive itself isn't too bad. The only place traffic is ever bad on the trip is around Atlanta. So the trip isn't too bad--I work my way thru my cd collection, and think up things to be pissed off about. And business ideas and such too. And wrestle with philosophical problems. Good, quality thinking time.
Mom told us to write out Christmas lists like she does every year. Mine are usually pretty short, so I add in unusual things just to flesh it out a bit: A steam powered catapult and a 6 month supply of cats. A flunky, a toady, and a brace of henchmen. and so on. This year I didn't do that--I guess I got sidetracked before I could do it. Or perhaps the small notepad was to blame. Always blame the equipment, never the operator.
So here's my Christmas list:
* .45 ACP ammunition--I prefer 230 grain full metal jacket ball ammo for target shooting--my preferred carry ammo is Hornady Custom 230 grain jacketed hollowpoint +P
* .303 British ammunition--my preferred rifle is the No. 4 Mark I Lee-Enfield. I love bolt-action rifles, and have actually been reprimanded for rapid firing at some ranges--I can fire 10 rounds in about 6 seconds with that baby. Of course, accuracy goes to hell, but most rounds fired in combat are suppressive fire anyway. If I keep his head down, I can take my time to make the next round count.
* Jack Daniels--I talk about drinking, and think about drinking, a hell of a lot more than I actually drink. I still have a decanter half-full of Jack that I've had for a year. But I bought another bottle here in Alabamastan recently, and it was no-shit $32! For those who are unaware, any alcohol purchased outside of Alabamastan and transported into Alabamastan is considered bootleg alcohol, and thus illegal. I always wanted to be a bootlegger! I've been listening to "The Ballad of Thunder Road" and any other song I can find regarding bootlegging. One of my favorite Muppet Show episodes is the one with Peter Sellers--at the end they sing "Cigarettes and Whiskey and Wild, Wild Women." Anyway, my already half-consumed Jack Daniels was bootleg whiskey as soon as I moved it to Alabamastan, as was the Irish Whiskey my youngest cousin bought for me for last Christmas (Well, I expect her Mom or Dad actually bought it, as she's not legal yet), and my collection of red wines is bootleg as well. For that matter, I believe the same law applies to tobacco, so the Prince Albert in a can I brought with me (I'll smoke a pipe about once every 4 months or so) is bootleg as well. Anyway, I'm hoping my relatives will become my accomplices in my bootlegging activities, by purchasing the whiskey for me as a gift. There: I've confessed to bootlegging, conspiracy to bootleg, and misprision of either felony or misdemeanor, depending on how the gov-goons interpret it.
* Bushmills--the aforementioned Irish Whiskey. Basically the best Irish Whiskey there is, followed closely by Jamesons (which is also quite acceptable). I usually don't drink it straight--I use it to make Irish Coffee. Bushmills is the oldest continuously operating legal Irish Whiskey Distillery. I've heard it's possible to get the absolute best bottles only by touring the distillery--so I'm hoping I can get a relative to take a vaction to Ireland some day and bring me back a bottle of their best. Shouldn't be too hard. I can't do it, because I refuse to fly until I'm allowed to carry my life preserver (aka my pistol) and the Irish and Brits aren't civilized about letting free men carry the tools of self-defense.
* the final item on the list, gift certificates to Books-A-Million or Amazon.com or other book suppliers. I have a wish list on Amazon, but it hasn't been thinned out (it runs to pages in double digits). I may have already purchased items on it, or read them in ebook format, or borrowed them from the library or some such. Usually I list a few titles on the list I am particularly interested in, but this year I didn't--I wrote the list in something of a hurry.
So my list is a weird one. You oughtta see the rest of the family's lists. My father's includes "A Shrubbery." I've always suspected him of living a secret life--it turns out he's a Knight of Ni. Not really all that surprising, now that I think about it. I asked if he'd also like us to cut down the tallest tree in the forest with a herring. I think that's for next year's list. My brother's is pretty much the same as it always is--basically "Find me some old moth-eaten army stuff. If it's got bullet holes in it, even better." He also wants some new boxer shorts. The sicko once mentioned he'd like to make himself a pair of burlap underwear. I suspect he's done it--and probably wears it too.
I haven't seen any lists from my sister's family yet--I'll probably have to stop by and ask (they're only about 250 miles away). My neice (Mackenzie--everyone else calls her "Kenzie"--I call her "Mack" and my sister often calls her "Mac-and-cheese.") will be three in March. So I guess I'll have to get her something age-appropriate: whiskey bottles with sippy-cup tops (nipples are for babies), small-caliber pistols (her arms aren't long enough for rifles yet, and bolt-actions require a bit more manual dexterity than the average three-year-old posesses) I'm thinking perhaps a revolver, as automatics may be a bit intricate for a toddler, and some of the small parts may present a choke hazard during field-stripping. I'm not sure if her strength is up to the level of pulling back the slide on an automatic either. Those small hands just don't quite have the leverage.
Unless I get married and have (or adopt or in some other way acquire) children of my own, I reckon I'll have to content myself with corrupting neices and nephews and cousins and such. Better lay in a good supply of whiskey and ammo now--don't want to be caught short when the little tykes are around. Shot glasses are just about right for little hands. Perhaps I ought to start buying some of those little Derringers I'm always seeing at the gun stores. I've always thought them a bit feminine myself, but I guess they're just right for small hands. Not any good for protection unless you're worried about attacks by rodents, small birds, or snakes I reckon. But probably would be good for developing the hand-eye coordination and good shooting habits before growing into larger calibers.
Don't worry--I won't start the little rugrats on explosives until they're 8 or so. you gotta be careful running triplines with tension-release-detonation. It also helps if they've learned some basic electronics and can handle a soldering iron before getting into that stuff. It's not critical, but it helps to know WHY you can improvise the detonation trigger out of a lantern battery, a clothes pin, a plastic spoon, and 10 inches of electrical wire. Knowing how will get you through most of the time, but knowing why can help you figure things out when you need to make substitutions in the recipe. You have to know what the eggs do in a cake before you know if you can substitute something else for them--just as you have to know that the plastic spoon is an insulator (i.e. not an electrical conductor) keeping the two halves of the circuit separated until removed by the pulling of the trip wire, before you can know that any other decent non-conducting material will do--the spoon is just easily acquired (they come in MRE packets) and is a shape that works pretty well for its purpose in the system. Of course, the clothes pin and the spoon are both unnecessary if you have a long enough piece of insulated wire, but I think they are less prone to failures, as the tension of the clothes pin assures a good transfer of current thru the circuit.
I won't teach them to actually MAKE the explosives until they are much older--teenagers are prone to accidentally spilling and breaking things, which is not good when you're trying to manufacture homemade explosives. Composition 4 is much safer for children--it actually requires an electrical charge or high-pressure to explode--and thus can be safely dropped or bumped or whatever. I've actually cooked on C-4--you can light it and cook over the flame, so long as you don't do it in an enclosed space--the fumes are pretty nasty.
Well, have I dropped enough in this post to give the Echelon and Carnivore geeks apoplexy yet? If not, here goes:
Improvised Tactical Nuclear Devices are for advanced students only. I can give a rough-sketch idea of their construction, but I don't have the fissionable material, nor the math skills necessary to design the intricate series of shaped charges necessary to compress the atomic core into a critical mass and thus jump-start the detonation. Trial and error is not a good way to learn this, I think. And these should never be used by children. "No! Bad kid! Don't play with nuclear weapons without adult supervision!"
I don't like the distance, which requires a lot of scheduling difficulties to visit, but the drive itself isn't too bad. The only place traffic is ever bad on the trip is around Atlanta. So the trip isn't too bad--I work my way thru my cd collection, and think up things to be pissed off about. And business ideas and such too. And wrestle with philosophical problems. Good, quality thinking time.
Mom told us to write out Christmas lists like she does every year. Mine are usually pretty short, so I add in unusual things just to flesh it out a bit: A steam powered catapult and a 6 month supply of cats. A flunky, a toady, and a brace of henchmen. and so on. This year I didn't do that--I guess I got sidetracked before I could do it. Or perhaps the small notepad was to blame. Always blame the equipment, never the operator.
So here's my Christmas list:
* .45 ACP ammunition--I prefer 230 grain full metal jacket ball ammo for target shooting--my preferred carry ammo is Hornady Custom 230 grain jacketed hollowpoint +P
* .303 British ammunition--my preferred rifle is the No. 4 Mark I Lee-Enfield. I love bolt-action rifles, and have actually been reprimanded for rapid firing at some ranges--I can fire 10 rounds in about 6 seconds with that baby. Of course, accuracy goes to hell, but most rounds fired in combat are suppressive fire anyway. If I keep his head down, I can take my time to make the next round count.
* Jack Daniels--I talk about drinking, and think about drinking, a hell of a lot more than I actually drink. I still have a decanter half-full of Jack that I've had for a year. But I bought another bottle here in Alabamastan recently, and it was no-shit $32! For those who are unaware, any alcohol purchased outside of Alabamastan and transported into Alabamastan is considered bootleg alcohol, and thus illegal. I always wanted to be a bootlegger! I've been listening to "The Ballad of Thunder Road" and any other song I can find regarding bootlegging. One of my favorite Muppet Show episodes is the one with Peter Sellers--at the end they sing "Cigarettes and Whiskey and Wild, Wild Women." Anyway, my already half-consumed Jack Daniels was bootleg whiskey as soon as I moved it to Alabamastan, as was the Irish Whiskey my youngest cousin bought for me for last Christmas (Well, I expect her Mom or Dad actually bought it, as she's not legal yet), and my collection of red wines is bootleg as well. For that matter, I believe the same law applies to tobacco, so the Prince Albert in a can I brought with me (I'll smoke a pipe about once every 4 months or so) is bootleg as well. Anyway, I'm hoping my relatives will become my accomplices in my bootlegging activities, by purchasing the whiskey for me as a gift. There: I've confessed to bootlegging, conspiracy to bootleg, and misprision of either felony or misdemeanor, depending on how the gov-goons interpret it.
* Bushmills--the aforementioned Irish Whiskey. Basically the best Irish Whiskey there is, followed closely by Jamesons (which is also quite acceptable). I usually don't drink it straight--I use it to make Irish Coffee. Bushmills is the oldest continuously operating legal Irish Whiskey Distillery. I've heard it's possible to get the absolute best bottles only by touring the distillery--so I'm hoping I can get a relative to take a vaction to Ireland some day and bring me back a bottle of their best. Shouldn't be too hard. I can't do it, because I refuse to fly until I'm allowed to carry my life preserver (aka my pistol) and the Irish and Brits aren't civilized about letting free men carry the tools of self-defense.
* the final item on the list, gift certificates to Books-A-Million or Amazon.com or other book suppliers. I have a wish list on Amazon, but it hasn't been thinned out (it runs to pages in double digits). I may have already purchased items on it, or read them in ebook format, or borrowed them from the library or some such. Usually I list a few titles on the list I am particularly interested in, but this year I didn't--I wrote the list in something of a hurry.
So my list is a weird one. You oughtta see the rest of the family's lists. My father's includes "A Shrubbery." I've always suspected him of living a secret life--it turns out he's a Knight of Ni. Not really all that surprising, now that I think about it. I asked if he'd also like us to cut down the tallest tree in the forest with a herring. I think that's for next year's list. My brother's is pretty much the same as it always is--basically "Find me some old moth-eaten army stuff. If it's got bullet holes in it, even better." He also wants some new boxer shorts. The sicko once mentioned he'd like to make himself a pair of burlap underwear. I suspect he's done it--and probably wears it too.
I haven't seen any lists from my sister's family yet--I'll probably have to stop by and ask (they're only about 250 miles away). My neice (Mackenzie--everyone else calls her "Kenzie"--I call her "Mack" and my sister often calls her "Mac-and-cheese.") will be three in March. So I guess I'll have to get her something age-appropriate: whiskey bottles with sippy-cup tops (nipples are for babies), small-caliber pistols (her arms aren't long enough for rifles yet, and bolt-actions require a bit more manual dexterity than the average three-year-old posesses) I'm thinking perhaps a revolver, as automatics may be a bit intricate for a toddler, and some of the small parts may present a choke hazard during field-stripping. I'm not sure if her strength is up to the level of pulling back the slide on an automatic either. Those small hands just don't quite have the leverage.
Unless I get married and have (or adopt or in some other way acquire) children of my own, I reckon I'll have to content myself with corrupting neices and nephews and cousins and such. Better lay in a good supply of whiskey and ammo now--don't want to be caught short when the little tykes are around. Shot glasses are just about right for little hands. Perhaps I ought to start buying some of those little Derringers I'm always seeing at the gun stores. I've always thought them a bit feminine myself, but I guess they're just right for small hands. Not any good for protection unless you're worried about attacks by rodents, small birds, or snakes I reckon. But probably would be good for developing the hand-eye coordination and good shooting habits before growing into larger calibers.
Don't worry--I won't start the little rugrats on explosives until they're 8 or so. you gotta be careful running triplines with tension-release-detonation. It also helps if they've learned some basic electronics and can handle a soldering iron before getting into that stuff. It's not critical, but it helps to know WHY you can improvise the detonation trigger out of a lantern battery, a clothes pin, a plastic spoon, and 10 inches of electrical wire. Knowing how will get you through most of the time, but knowing why can help you figure things out when you need to make substitutions in the recipe. You have to know what the eggs do in a cake before you know if you can substitute something else for them--just as you have to know that the plastic spoon is an insulator (i.e. not an electrical conductor) keeping the two halves of the circuit separated until removed by the pulling of the trip wire, before you can know that any other decent non-conducting material will do--the spoon is just easily acquired (they come in MRE packets) and is a shape that works pretty well for its purpose in the system. Of course, the clothes pin and the spoon are both unnecessary if you have a long enough piece of insulated wire, but I think they are less prone to failures, as the tension of the clothes pin assures a good transfer of current thru the circuit.
I won't teach them to actually MAKE the explosives until they are much older--teenagers are prone to accidentally spilling and breaking things, which is not good when you're trying to manufacture homemade explosives. Composition 4 is much safer for children--it actually requires an electrical charge or high-pressure to explode--and thus can be safely dropped or bumped or whatever. I've actually cooked on C-4--you can light it and cook over the flame, so long as you don't do it in an enclosed space--the fumes are pretty nasty.
Well, have I dropped enough in this post to give the Echelon and Carnivore geeks apoplexy yet? If not, here goes:
Improvised Tactical Nuclear Devices are for advanced students only. I can give a rough-sketch idea of their construction, but I don't have the fissionable material, nor the math skills necessary to design the intricate series of shaped charges necessary to compress the atomic core into a critical mass and thus jump-start the detonation. Trial and error is not a good way to learn this, I think. And these should never be used by children. "No! Bad kid! Don't play with nuclear weapons without adult supervision!"
Wednesday, November 24, 2004
Ranting, Emergencies, and hatred of phones
Define the term "Emergency." If I ask you if something is an emergency, what would you take that to mean?
We had no power at work. The main transformer caught fire. We have 2 electricians and 2 helpers for the entire campus. The electrical grid across campus is antiquated and in bad repair--everything is falling apart. Every time we make an electrical repair, the increased load on the rest of the system causes something else to blow.
The same goes for water systems, gas lines, HVAC systems, etc. I would be willing to bet that 60% of the roofs on campus need replaced entirely. We have 2 plumbers. We have 3 HVAC workers, only one of which is actually completely qualified. We have 2 carpenters. We have 1 locksmith.
So when it's raining, the transformers short out, and we lose power. This kicks off all the HVAC systems, which means the HVAC techs have to go around and turn off all the HVAC systems with 3 phase motors, otherwise all the motors and condensors and such burn out when power returns to the system. Probably 85% of the roofs across campus leak when it rains, not to mention all the backed up drains and such. Furthermore, anytime anyone moves a vehicle across the ground--be it a fire truck, a bucket-truck, a delivery vehicle, or whatever, we get broken gas and water lines.
So, in the middle of a particularly bad rainstorm, when we've just had the fire department there to put out the fire on the main transformer, and we don't have any electricity on campus, and all over the place buildings are flooding, sewers are backing up, and so forth, if you call me with a maintenance request (and if I'm answering the phones, that means that the phones are ringing off the hook and/or we're running really short on personnel) and I ask you if it's an emergency--what sort of work request had it better be if you say "Yes it is."? I'm thinking life safety issues, followed by items which could cause serious and permanent damage to the University.
Not roof leaks that have been there for (no shit) 20 years or more--why did you place your computer under that leak anyway, if you have known it was there for 20 years?
Not telling me your power is out--I know it's out, because if it's out where you are, I'm sitting in the dark too. And don't ask me when it will be back on--it will be when we can get it done. We don't want to sit in the dark either. We didn't turn the power off ourselves, and we didn't schedule the power outage. You've been having these power outages every time it rains for at least 10 years. My company has been here for 10 months, and you've given us half a mil to do $500 Million+ worth of necessary repairs. We've got 2 electricians, which is what you allowed us to hire--neither of which is actually certified or fully qualified--but those are the two you gave us when we came in. Please don't act surprised and shocked after 10 years or more of this shit, when we don't immediately restore power to the entire campus.
And you had definitely not, after telling me this is an emergency, under these conditions, and being yourself a University Staff Member, proceed to give me a long list of shit like missing peepholes, closet doors off track, keys you would like copied for closet doors, and other plainly NON-FUCKING-EMERGENCY-SHIT-LIKE-THIS! I swear by all the gods ever conceived that I WILL GO POSTAL. I WILL GO COMPLETELY APE SHIT.
I have NO PATIENCE in Emergency situations. NONE. Fucking Ti-Ti. Any other time I will be perfectly reasonable with you--even if I don't like you. But in a bonafide emergency I do not have time to play silly-buggers. I am not a nice person; I do not like people. I am amazing in an emergency--otherwise I wouldn't be here. I was not brought to Alabamastan for my sparkling personality or my fashion sense or my ability to engage in the pseudo-intellectual circle-jerk of PC buzz-word spouting. I'm here because people recognized that I get shit done, and can improvise, adapt, and generally kludge shit together as needed. I'm doing this in the office because that's where I'm needed. I'm not a computer whiz, but I can make the computer do what we need done, and I am one of the few office-pukes you'll meet who understands the office is there to support the folks who do the real work--not to obstruct and delay and give certain folks an air-conditioned seat in which to get swivel-chair spread. I was brought here because shit is falling apart all the time, and there are an average of 5 low-grade emergencies every day, at least 2 mid-level emergencies every week, and every 3 weeks or so there is a major emergency just on the edge of actual life endangerment for someone.
Anytime the folks at work decide they care more about playing games, spouting pc-buzzwords, and preserving feelings than they do about fixing problems and protecting lives and property, all they gotta do is tell me, and I'll leave with a smile. Until that time, either lead, follow, or get the fuck outta my way. And don't waste my friggin' time. I have places already picked out to hide the bodies if necessary.
We had no power at work. The main transformer caught fire. We have 2 electricians and 2 helpers for the entire campus. The electrical grid across campus is antiquated and in bad repair--everything is falling apart. Every time we make an electrical repair, the increased load on the rest of the system causes something else to blow.
The same goes for water systems, gas lines, HVAC systems, etc. I would be willing to bet that 60% of the roofs on campus need replaced entirely. We have 2 plumbers. We have 3 HVAC workers, only one of which is actually completely qualified. We have 2 carpenters. We have 1 locksmith.
So when it's raining, the transformers short out, and we lose power. This kicks off all the HVAC systems, which means the HVAC techs have to go around and turn off all the HVAC systems with 3 phase motors, otherwise all the motors and condensors and such burn out when power returns to the system. Probably 85% of the roofs across campus leak when it rains, not to mention all the backed up drains and such. Furthermore, anytime anyone moves a vehicle across the ground--be it a fire truck, a bucket-truck, a delivery vehicle, or whatever, we get broken gas and water lines.
So, in the middle of a particularly bad rainstorm, when we've just had the fire department there to put out the fire on the main transformer, and we don't have any electricity on campus, and all over the place buildings are flooding, sewers are backing up, and so forth, if you call me with a maintenance request (and if I'm answering the phones, that means that the phones are ringing off the hook and/or we're running really short on personnel) and I ask you if it's an emergency--what sort of work request had it better be if you say "Yes it is."? I'm thinking life safety issues, followed by items which could cause serious and permanent damage to the University.
Not roof leaks that have been there for (no shit) 20 years or more--why did you place your computer under that leak anyway, if you have known it was there for 20 years?
Not telling me your power is out--I know it's out, because if it's out where you are, I'm sitting in the dark too. And don't ask me when it will be back on--it will be when we can get it done. We don't want to sit in the dark either. We didn't turn the power off ourselves, and we didn't schedule the power outage. You've been having these power outages every time it rains for at least 10 years. My company has been here for 10 months, and you've given us half a mil to do $500 Million+ worth of necessary repairs. We've got 2 electricians, which is what you allowed us to hire--neither of which is actually certified or fully qualified--but those are the two you gave us when we came in. Please don't act surprised and shocked after 10 years or more of this shit, when we don't immediately restore power to the entire campus.
And you had definitely not, after telling me this is an emergency, under these conditions, and being yourself a University Staff Member, proceed to give me a long list of shit like missing peepholes, closet doors off track, keys you would like copied for closet doors, and other plainly NON-FUCKING-EMERGENCY-SHIT-LIKE-THIS! I swear by all the gods ever conceived that I WILL GO POSTAL. I WILL GO COMPLETELY APE SHIT.
I have NO PATIENCE in Emergency situations. NONE. Fucking Ti-Ti. Any other time I will be perfectly reasonable with you--even if I don't like you. But in a bonafide emergency I do not have time to play silly-buggers. I am not a nice person; I do not like people. I am amazing in an emergency--otherwise I wouldn't be here. I was not brought to Alabamastan for my sparkling personality or my fashion sense or my ability to engage in the pseudo-intellectual circle-jerk of PC buzz-word spouting. I'm here because people recognized that I get shit done, and can improvise, adapt, and generally kludge shit together as needed. I'm doing this in the office because that's where I'm needed. I'm not a computer whiz, but I can make the computer do what we need done, and I am one of the few office-pukes you'll meet who understands the office is there to support the folks who do the real work--not to obstruct and delay and give certain folks an air-conditioned seat in which to get swivel-chair spread. I was brought here because shit is falling apart all the time, and there are an average of 5 low-grade emergencies every day, at least 2 mid-level emergencies every week, and every 3 weeks or so there is a major emergency just on the edge of actual life endangerment for someone.
Anytime the folks at work decide they care more about playing games, spouting pc-buzzwords, and preserving feelings than they do about fixing problems and protecting lives and property, all they gotta do is tell me, and I'll leave with a smile. Until that time, either lead, follow, or get the fuck outta my way. And don't waste my friggin' time. I have places already picked out to hide the bodies if necessary.
Friday, November 19, 2004
I don't like people.
I don't like people. Oh, I like many individuals just fine, but people in general annoy me. The more time I spend alone, the more I dislike the telephone, groups of people, public places, etc. Perhaps I just need to drink more.
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