Sunday, December 26, 2004
Matt Nicole and Penelope came over later in the day, and Matt gave me a cool R'C plane. We flew it for 15 minutes or so until Nate crashed and had to be brougth home screaming. We lost the remote somehow so haven't been able to fly it again.
Christmas day- good fun, exhausting.
Tuesday, December 21, 2004
At night, when he wakes up and wants to either go to the bathroom, or find one of us, he runs. Even when he is so barely awake and can not even talk coherently, he starts to run. He'll stumble out of bed, barely able to stand upright, and start running for the bathroom. He'll do his business, slam shut the door, and run back to bed and crash in. And be asleep instantly.
We're trying to plan Christmas now, and who we will see when. Molly wants Sunday to be a kind of wind-down day, and wants to see Dad, Merge, Matt Nicole and Penelope on Christmas eve. Mom and Vic will be over Christmas morning, as per usual. I think I'd rather do nothing Christmas eve, and do an early morning sunday with the family, leaving the afternoon to decompress. We'll see.
Sunday, December 19, 2004
Molly: Health club membership.
She can bring the kids to this place, and they can play. It's a great setup. It's a thousand bucks. This one is going on a credit card, and I guess I'll have to do a lot of mileage at work to pay it off.
Nate: Toys. A cheapie electric train, to see if he like electric trains. A hovercopter. A toy helicopter rescue thing. A set of electronic drums.
Tess: No idea. Molly got her doll shit and stuff.
Dad: A surefire flashlight. He seemed to really like the one I got Matt for his birthday.
Merge: Photo stuff, a little collage in a frame from the beach last summer.
Mom: We agreed, in the spirit of de-cluttering, and relative poverty, to not give each other anything this year. They'll just do a couple small things for the kids.
Vic: Same. I had gotten him a Surefire flashlight too, but that was before we agreed to not give anything this year.
Matt: Benchmade knife. Looks nice, Vic says it's good quality.
Tom: Surefire flashlight.
So excited to give people things. Hopefully it will be a great Christmas. Can't wait to give Molly her present. :)
Saturday, December 18, 2004
I remembered I have an "All your base are belong to us" license plate frame.
Hell, it was sort of passe when I got it in 2001, now it's really old, but I guess it's still a mystery if you aren't part of tEh in4r-web.
It's one week 'till Christmas! I need to go get Molly's gift- a year's membership to the local health club. She can bring the kids, and they can play in a big, reasonably allergy-safe area so it might be cool.
Oh, and I shit my pants yesterday morning without realizing it. Had to sorta go, farted a few times, and one of the farts was of the liquid variety, but I didn't realize it 'till I went to go take a crap and saw the long brown stain! What the fuck was that about?
Yestderday was the anniversary of the start of the Battle of the Bulge in 1945. May we remember their sacrafice, and celebrate what they won for freedom and out country.
Saturday, December 11, 2004
It's a rainy dismal Saturday. I've already been out three time this morning, once to get trash bags, and twice to the dump.. Excuse me, Transfer Station. It's ten o'clock, the house is nice and warm, I have a chocolate muffin waiting for me that the kids don't know about, and I have to mildly take a shit.
I discovered something wierd about myself the other day. I often get the urge to hit annoying people with a golf club. Any time I'm confronted with an idiot, I have this vision in my head of picking up a club, sometimes a driver, sometimes an iron, and smacking them till the club breaks, then smacking them with whatever is left over.
When most people run into an annoying person, what I hear most from people is the desire to get a gun and shoot them. I own some guns, and I never get the urge to shoot anyone. My urge to punish idiots involves golf clubs, however, I don't golf and don't own any clubs at all.
Monday, December 06, 2004
Scene: Cabin, on Sugarloaf mountain, Thanksgiving weekend, 2004.
Nate:(In the bathroom) "Auntie Cate!!"
(Cate comes in from the living room)
Cate: "What is it, Natie?"
Nate: "The good news is you get to wipe my bottom! The bad news is that there's no toilet paper!"
(Stunned silence from Cate, then doubled over in laughter)
Tuesday, November 30, 2004
We drove for a short bit on paved roads, the went off on a dirt road. Twenty minutes down the dirt road found out parking spot- a small turnoff from the dirt road. The road seemed to keep going, but we all got out of the truck. I had expected cold weather, so had brought long underwear, pants, and arctic insulated Carhartt bib and jacket and hood. As I put all these on, I noticed that it was actually rather warm. It was raining lightly however, so I figured I'd wear the stuff at least to keep the rain off. We loaded up and set out on foot.
It was sort of a long hike, uphill on the road, which narrowed to a wideish ATV trail. We hiked up it for about a half hour, and I was soaked with sweat. We arrived at the power lines, which we were to hunt on, and sent Cousin Tom down the path of the lines to set up a half mile or so away on a small hill, and BIL Tom and I would slow hunt through the woods on the right to either suprise a deer, or drive him toward Cousin Tom. At this point, I decided to ditch the insulated jacket, but as soon as I did, the rain, which had stopped for a while, started up again, so I elected to wear it to keep me dryer.
We got into the woods, within sight of each other, and waited for the legal time (one half hour before sunrise) to start hunting. We'd walk slowly through the woods for a couple of steps, the stop and look all around, then take another slow step, then look all around, etc. Takes a long while to cover ground this way, but is quiet and a good way to sneak up on deer.
It was beautiful in the woods there, and the going was more strenuous than I had imagined. in about half an hour, I ditched the arctic jacket because the rain had mostly stopped, I was soaked with sweat anyway, and was getting really hot. I fired up the GPS and got a waypoint on the jacket so I could find it later.
We saw a little sign, some deer scat and some tree scratchings, but nothing really fresh, no scrapes, etc., and certainly no deer. We walked for a long time, until I was barely able to lift a foot over one more log. We called it quits for the woods, and walked out to where Cousin Tom was- he hadn't seen anything either. At this point I ditched my insulated bib, and it was a huge relief. We decided to walk up to a hill where Tom had seen lots of sign a few weeks ago. This time there was nothing. I was quite tired bu this point, even though walking was easier without all the weighty insulated stuff on.
Around 9:30, we decided to get back and go home again. Collected the bib, and fired up the GPS to find the jacket. As I did, I found a path that had lots of sign, inclugin what looked like fresh scratching, but I just went in , got the jacket, and came back out. We went back to the path, and started down back to the truck.
Halfway there, Cousin Tom sees a snowshoe hare huddling on the side of the path, about ten feet away. Conversation breaks out as to wether to shoot it or now. BIL Tom says he can't because his wife Sally had a pet rabbit once, and it's the only thing he's not allowed to hunt. Cousin Tom wants to shoot it. I ask if it's in season. Consensus is, shoot it, but BIL Tom walks away to be no part of it.
Cousin Tom aims his rifle, and BANG!- misses the bunny, which hops off another fifteen feet to get between some trees. Tom get appropriate ribbing for missing such a close stationary bright white target. I tell him to put crosshairs above bunny's head, so the shot goes into his head. Tom goes up the embankment a couple of feet to get a shot again on stationary bunny. BANG! Rabbit dissapears. We both figure he got him, but upon investigation, no bunny was to be found. Tom gets additional ribbing for missing an easy shot twice.
Tom, the week before, had shot a 225 pound buck at 150 yards, clean kill, with the same gun. He tried to make me promise to keep the bunny incident a secret.
The next day we went partridge hunting with Nate and got skunked again, but that's another story.
Monday, November 15, 2004
I plan on using a rubber band, some zipties and an old Richard Simmons workout tape to bag MY deer this season.
Some people say it's cruel to use the tape, but I say, hey, for the wild animal in the winter, would you rather they starve to death, get eaten alive by other carnivores, or have to watch the tape?
And you know, that's a really tough question.
Things are getting lined up for Thanksgiving weekend. I have the time off work, I have my hunting license all set up (ninety bucks- the most expensive part of this trip!), all my warm clothes, and hopefully all the stuff I need for hunting. All I have to do now is get my gun sighted in a little better.
I winterized the hot tub yesterday, hopefully there isn't any water left in it to destroy it when it froze last night. At least we are now saving the $50 or so per month it was costing us in electricity.
Friday, November 12, 2004
The Honor Guard was there for a ceremony that had just finished on one of the upper floors.
Not that that has anything to do with anything, but I thought I'd share.
I'm really looking forward to Thanksgiving this year. The plan is, we are going up to Maine, to Sugarloaf, to Sally's Parent's condo. Nearby is the Martinelli's hunting/skiing camp. It will be just Tykie, Molly's siblings and me and the kids. I wish my family would be there too, but a 5 hour drive is a lot to ask.
We plan on doing some deer hunting while we're up there. That will be fun, it's something I've never done before. Can't wait to show off the Mosin-Nagant M44, with it's freshly mounted chapie red dot scope. I was at the range a few days ago, and at least I could hit an 8" circle or so with the red dot at 100 yards. Tom might be bringing me an old 20 guage to borrow for a while so I can hunt around home too this season.
Sounds like we're getting some snow this afternoon. It would be the first snow of the season!
Tuesday, November 09, 2004
Yesterday, Nate and Tess were running up and down the hallway racing along. Nate runs past Tess, bowling her over onto the floor. She starts to cry, devastated that such fun has suddenly turned into such a bump (like it doesn't happen a hundred times a day). Nate rushes off and buries his head in the couch, obviously embarassed and not knowing what to do about it.
Molly comforts Tess, and calls over to Nate: "You know, you would feel better if you came over and asked Tess if she is okay".
Nate comes over: "What do I say?"
Molly: "Tess, are you okay? Can I give you a kiss to make you feel better?"
Nate: "Tess, are you okay? Can I give you a kiss to make you feel better?"
Tess stops crying, stands up, and says "Yes Nate. Right (she reaches around and points to her butt, on which she had fallen) HERE."
Molly falls on the floor laughing, Nate kisses Tess's ass, and they keep racing on.
Tuesday, October 12, 2004
I was a bit nervous here in Sudbury, because it's kind of a swanky neighborhood and they might frown on this sort of activity, but I spray-painted the word "FREE" on a couple of spare pieces of cardboard, and propped it up next to an old wicker loveseat and table that came with this house when we bought it. Under these was a wicker-type rug, ruined in some summertime rains. Next to this was the clonky old riding mower that I bought from my brother Matt after we moved in here. It has no brakes, and the throttle is stuck at full speed. Plus, lately, you can't mow for more than twenty minutes or so before it eats the belt that turns the mower blades. I only fill it up every so often with gas, but I have a steady supply of belts to keep it running.
Anyway, the mower disappeared after a day. The wicker junk left us after two days. I am quite happy, and my faith in people's strange need to get something, even if it's crap, even in a swanky neighborhood, is quite restored.
Sunday, October 10, 2004
There she is, my new ride. 1999 Audi A6 Quattro 2.8. 37,000 miles.
Not as fast as the subie, not as fun, but so much easier to drive, and it has the BLING and a few toys.
I was sad to see my beloved WRX go- my first, and so far, only new car, and the only car I've really loved. You know, in that special way. But it went to someone who had never had a Suabru, so it has a chance to become someone else's favorite car.
Already my new car has thrown a check engine light- pulled it, it's an air sensor flow meter. I'll bring it back to the shop if it comes back.
Friday, October 01, 2004
The Old Timer is a small little restaraunt with an Irish theme to it. It's run by "Jimmy", a sad faced, quick witted man in his sixties.
One walks into the Old Timer, and goes down a dark, narrow hallway back to the main dining room. The Old Timer looks like it used to be a church, or a theatre, or a playhouse or something that was converted into a restaraunt. The lighting is yellow, there is lots of dark wood, and the seating reminds me of church pews turned to face each other. At one end, up high on the wall, is a large enclave, big enough to provide ample seating for midgets, or a large nativity scene (parts of which, including lights and fake snow, are present year-round).
On Roast Beef night, you are less than American if you don't order "The Buffet." The Buffet is small, including only corn fritters, green beans, Mashed Potato, and a huge honkin' slab of roast beef.
French cuisine it ain't, but the mashed potatos are good, and the roast beef is good, provided that you like roast beef. The old Timer's roast beef night isn't really about the food though, it's about the atmosphere.
Atmosphere is provided by Jimmy, in cook's whites, large apron and running sneakers, belting out traditional irish tunes, american tunes, show tunes, and whatever else comes into mind, while walking around the dining room, carving and serving the roast beef, and otherwise directing the activities in the dining room. Jimmy is accompanied by a pianist banging away on a baby grand set right behind the buffet. The music is like the food, solid, but not technically good, but it's not about the quality as much as the quantity, and the amount of good humor that comes out of it.
I had only been here once before, and I had forgotten how much dman fun it is! Did I mention that they have a really good selection of draft beers? Guinness, Harp, Bass, Sam Adams etc. are on tap, and help to out you in the mood for singing along with your mouth full, swaying back and forth and generally having a great time. With the beer and music and sense of fun, it's kind of like a bizarre Irish Octoberfest. I can't wait to go back.
Tuesday, September 28, 2004
Naturally, the DVD/CD player on my laptop picked this time to shit the bed. Sometimes works, sometimes doesn't. I ended up having to try 6 times to install it before it finally went. Now I can't actually play it because the DVD/CD is br0ken again.
I'm thinking why the hell does someone want to drive 1500 miles north to buy a used car?
I'm pretty sure his next call is going to be "I'll give you an offshore bank check for $100,000, you write me a check for $80,000 and keep the difference for your troubles.".
I almost hope this is the case, because it would be sort of fun to go along with it, string the guy along for a long time, and then finally have some FBI personnel waiting for him when he tries to pick it up. :)
Sunday, September 26, 2004
In 1929, the Soviet Union established gun control. From 1929 to 1953, about
20 million dissidents, unable to defend themselves, were rounded up and
In 1911, Turkey established gun control. From 1915 to 1917, 1.5 million
Armenians, unable to defend themselves, were rounded up and exterminated.
Germany established gun control in 1938 and from 1939 to 1945, 13 million
Jews and others who were unable to defend themselves were rounded up and
China established gun control in 1935. From 1948 to 1952, 20 million
political dissidents, unable to defend themselves, were rounded up and
Guatemala established gun control in 1964. From 1964 to 1981, 100,000 Mayan
Indians, unable to defend themselves, were rounded up and exterminated.
Uganda established gun control in 1970. From 1971 to 1979, 300,000
Christians, unable to defend themselves, were rounded up and exterminated.
Cambodia established gun control in 1956. From 1975 to 1977, one million
'educated' people, unable to defend themselves, were rounded up and
Defenseless people rounded up and exterminated in the 20th Century because
of gun control: 56 million.
It has now been 12 months since gun owners in Australia were forced by new
law to surrender 640,381 personal firearms to be destroyed by their own
government, a program costing Australia taxpayers more than $500 million
The first year results are now in: Australia-wide, homicides are up 3.2 percent Australia-wide, assaults are up 8.6 percent Australia-wide, armed robberies are up 44 percent (yes, 44 percent)!
In the state of Victoria alone, homicides with firearms are now up 300 percent. (Note that while the law-abiding citizens turned them in, the criminals did not, and criminals still possess their guns!)
While figures over the previous 25 years showed a steady decrease in armed robbery with firearms, this has changed drastically upward in the past 12 months, since criminals now are guaranteed that their prey is unarmed.
There has also been a dramatic increase in break-ins and assaults of the ELDERLY.
Australian politicians are at a loss to explain how public safety has decreased, after such monumental effort and expense was expended in "successfully ridding Australian society of guns." The Australian experience and the other historical facts above prove it.
You won't see this data on the American evening news or hear our president, governors or other politicians disseminating this information.
Guns in the hands of honest citizens save lives and property and, yes, gun-control laws affect only the law-abiding citizens.
The historic theme has always revolved around restricting ownership among under and middle classes and reserving the right for the powerful in order to preserve that power for those in control of whatever political system existed at the time.
Gun control has never really been about crime control, although that has always been the stated reason. Rather, it has always been about making sure the "common people" have no way to resist and/or revolt against the ruling force that wanted to preserve their power.
Take note my fellow Americans.....before it's too late!
The next time someone talks in favor of gun control, please remind them of this history lesson.
Saturday, September 25, 2004
The Holy Gospel According to John Moses Browning
I. In the beginning was the 1911, and the 1911 was the pistol, and it was good.
II. John Moses Browning went up into the mountain, even unto the top of the mountain. And he received from the Lord the 1911, yea, and the design thereof, and rendered it into steel.
III. And the Lord saw that the 1911 was good, and blessed it, and said "Let it be made in .45ACP, that you may smite thine enemies a mighty blow, for the .45ACP shall cleave unto the 1911 as man shall cleave unto his wife, and likewise the 1911 shall cleave also unto the .45ACP, for this union is a holy one, from which thou shalt not stray.
IV. So the 1911 in .45ACP came to pass, and it was good, and the righteous therefore smote the minions of evil, as the Lord had intended.
V. And behold the Lord said, thou shalt not muck with my disciple John's design for it is good and it worketh. For John made the 1911, and lo all of his weapons, from the designs which I, the Lord, gave him upon the mountain.
VI. And shouldst thou muck with it and hang all manner of foul implements upon it, and profane its internal parts, thou shalt surely have malfunctions, and in the midst of battle thou shalt surely come to harm.
VII. And as the ages passed men in their ignorance and arrogance didst forget the word of the Lord and began to profane the 1911. The tribe of the gamesman did place recoil spring guides and extended slide releases upon the 1911 and their metal smiths didst tighten the tolerances and alter parts to their liking, their clearness of mind being clouded by lust.
VIII. Their artisans did hang all manner of foul implements upon the 1911 and did so alter it that it became impractical to purchase. For lo, the artisans didst charge a great tax upon the purchasers of the 1911 so that the lowly field worker could not afford one. And the profaning of the internal parts didst render it unworkable when the dust of the land fell upon it.
IX. And lo, they didst install adjustable sights, which are an abomination unto the Lord. For they doth break and loose their zero when thou dost need true aim. And those who have done so will be slain in great numbers by their enemies in the great battle.
X. And it came to pass that the Lord didst see the abomination wrought by man and didst cause, as he had warned, fearful malfunction to come upon the abominations and upon the artisans who thought they could do no wrong.
XI. Seeing the malfunctions and the confusion of men the lord of the underworld did see an opportunity to further ensnare man and didst bring forth pistols made of plastic, whose form was such that they looked and felt like a brick, yet the eyes of man being clouded, they were consumed by the plastic pistol and did buy vast quantities of them.
XII. And being a deceitful spirit the lord of the underworld did make these plastic pistols unamenable to the artisans of earth and they were unable to muck much with the design, and lo these pistols did function.
XIII. And the evil one also brought forth pistols in which the trigger didst both cock and fire them and which require a "dingus" to make them appear safe.
XIV. But man being stupid did not understand these new pistols and did proceed to shoot themselves with the plastic pistol, and with the trigger cocking pistols for lo their manual of arms required great intelligence which man had long since forsaken. Yet man continued to gloat over these new pistols blaming evil forces for the negligent discharges which they themselves had committed.
XV. And when man had been totally ensnared with plastic pistol, the lord of the underworld didst cause a plague of the terrible Ka-BOOM to descend upon man and the plastic pistols delivered their retribution upon men. And there was a great wailing and gnashing of teeth in the land.
XVI. Then seeing that the eyes of man were slowly being opened and that man was truly sorrowful for his sinful misdeeds, the Lord did send his messengers in the form of artisans who did hear and obey the teachings of the prophet and who didst restore the profaned 1911s to their proper configuration, and lo, to the amazement of men they didst begin to work as the prophet had intended.
XVII. And the men of the land didst drive out the charlatans and profaners from the land, and there was joy and peace in the land, except for the evil sprits which tried occasionally to prey on the men and women of the land and who were sent to the place of eternal damnation by the followers of John.
Tuesday, September 21, 2004
Todays failure is Star Wars: Battlefield. Looks pretty cool. 2 dead installs so far, we'll see if the third one works.
Monday, September 20, 2004
Looks like I'm staying here for a while.
They made it so I work more and more remotely, so much so that I might even be able to move to Maine and still keep this job. :p
We had the kid's Birthday parties over the weekend. Family party Saturday evening, very nice, everyone had a good time, and friend party Sunday morning at a play place. Naturally, there was a habitrail thng there, and you couldn't keep me out of it. My excuse was that I was making sure my 2 year old was okay in there with the biggger kids, but the truth is, I love playing in those things. Great fun.
All the other parents were saying things to Molly like "I can't believe your husband is so energetic in there" and "The kids are loving it". I would never be able to sit on the sidelines, just waiting, while there was something to climb on or in. Most people are boring, it seems.
Monday, September 13, 2004
I refer to, of course, the so-called "Assault Weapons Ban" that barely passed 10 years ago, which regulated scary looking features on some guns. A more useless, stereotype-ridden, liberal piece of feel-good, do-nothing legisation I've never seen.
They say that 70% of polled people supported the Assault Weapon ban. I bet that almost 100% of those polled cannot define what and "assault weapon" is, does, or functions, they just know they see them in the movies and are scared.
The people who made this happen are people who removed a small piece of the freedom that American Citizens are supposed to have. Americans have a few facets of freedom that are supposed to be guaranteed to us, just by being Citizens. Among these, are freedom of Speech, Freedom of assembly, freedom of redress, freedom to practice religeon. Also listed is the freedom to keep and bear arms.
Take away these freedoms, and you take away the value of being an American. To be an American Citizen, it is granted that the government actually trusts you to be one of the "good guys" with several potent weapons at your disposal. Arms and Free speech are two of the most powerful tools a people has available to itself if it wants to affect (or deny) change. Start taking these away, and it's a big sign that the government no longer sees you as trustworthy, but sees you instead as a potential problem that Must Be Controlled.
But, all I have to say to Feinstein et.al who authored, sponsored, and drove this ban is "HA-HA! We win."
Tuesday, September 07, 2004
The field was just hayed a week ago, so the remaining ground cover was short. We took the model rocket (El Cheapo Wal-Mart brand) and set it up upwind on one side of the field. We flew it 3 times with "B" Motors, which shot it up and away, and we had great fun. The 4th flight we put in a "C" motor, which launched the thing probably 500 feet or more, and we actually lost sight of the nose cone- although by carefully aiming the lauch pole, we had the rocket body come down to within 20 feet of where we had launched it. :)
Vic finally spotted the nose cone parachuting down about a quarter mile away- all the way across the field, where it went down over a small rise. I waded into grass that became higher and higher, until it was at the height of my head. It was rough going, with lots of bees around, holes, and finally, a wideish muddy stream that I quite failed to clear by jumping it. I did eventually find the nosecone, no worse for wear, and I hiked back through the mini-brush and streamage (again failed to clear it on the way back) and fought my way out to clear land again, shedding mud in all directions, triumphantly presenting the rocket to Nate.
I was too tired to continue any more flights however, plus Nate had lost interest and wanted to go across the street to the playground. Those "C" motors are a freaking handful!
Monday I went "hunting" with Nate in the WMA near our house. I wanted to go armed, in case something offered an interesting shot, but Molly was too nervous about Nate being around guns. I'm still not sure what her though process is regarding this, and I'm pretty sure she doesn't know either. Nate and I ended up just scouting some of the area, but it was still so mosquito infested that we bugged out pretty quickly. Hearing that a 13 year old boy died locally from a mosquito-transmitted virus didn't help much, either.
Wednesday, September 01, 2004
I am officially ready to get rid of my car. Driving in crappy traffic for the past two days has really left me wanting a quiet car with an automatic. A BMW 3 series, for instance. Sadly, finances will in no way allow this type of thing. My current car is paid off, and I'll need a huge income/cost of living change before I can afford a car payment again.
Anyway, do you know what the hardest part of rollerblading is?
Telling your parents you're gay.
Saturday, August 28, 2004
I had the best range day on Thursday with Dad. We spend about four hours there, mostly at the 100 yard range, where I played with a number of guns for the first time. The M1A was fantastic, but after 160 rounds or so my shoulder can still, three days later, feel the punishment. Also shot was the Ruger #1 in .30-.30, a very nice looking, light single shot gun that also let you know that you had shot it.
After these, I put a few magazines through his AR-15, which, even though I remembered as having "a bit of recoil" compared to my 77/22, felt like shooting a dart gun. I really want an AR, though I think I would like a CAR-15 M4-gery type thing. I like the coolenss factor, to be brutally honest, but I also like the light weight.
Sadly, the 2-300 yard range was closed, so we could not do any long range plinking. I should pick up a steel target for those long ranges, provided that the range allows their use.
At the end of the day, (lunchtime) I bought the Walther P-22 from Dad. I now am the proud owner of two guns. I was nervous about telling Molly, from her past reactions to any kind of firearm, she seems to have a visceral fear reaction to any sort of gun. However, she took it very well. I promised that it would be dissassembled while it was at home- or maybe I promised that only part of the gun would remain at home- the details are vague- I promised that it would be "safe", one way or the other. As soon as I think she is ready to handle it, I will introduce her to the thing and try to take away some of the mystery/fear associated with it.
Tomorrow morning I get to go to the Company Outing, which is renting a few 12 meter America's Cup yachts to race against each other. The last two years, I had missed this, due to a couple of emergency things, but this year, my Boss called me and pretty much locked me in. I actually resent this right now, because weekend time with my family is scarce, and I hoard it and relish it extremely.
Wednesday, August 25, 2004
This is one of the best rants Ive ever heard. It's from a cop. I don't know what place in the US he's from, but DAMN he is on the money with this one.
I think I'm in love with Henry "Snake" Bowman. ;)
Well, you Sons of Bitches really know how I feel now!
Some choice quotes:
If you are a uniformed Police Officer of any rank and do not fully, and honorably support the pre-existing God given rights enumerated in the 2nd Amendment, you are a disgrace to your Badge and your oath of office to protect and serve.
There is plenty of documentation to support the fact that "gun control" laws in the United States are and have been rooted in the dishonorable practice generally known as "Racism." If there is any doubt about this? I suggest you do some research on your own (Author Clayton E. Cramer has written a short essay that can bring you up to speed quickly, search it out.)
Understand this concept: Criminals misuse firearms in violent crime, law-abiding citizens DON'T. The mere fact that one is willing to misuse a firearm against his fellows automatically brands them an evil-doer, unfit to share the company of non-violent citizens: Their intent and action (Human responsible agency) defines them as violent criminals, mere possession of firearms does not.
These dishonorable individuals are a disgrace to the Badge for their craven contempt of officer and civilian safety by condoning firearm confiscation, this "thing" called "gun control."
The bottom line: Telling it like it is, and Deal with it! The constant spiteful attacks, slander, demonization and ridicule of law-abiding gun owners over the years are taking their toll. The peaceful citizens of the "gun culture" are fast reaching their limit of how much abuse they are going to take. They are fed up with being compared to violent criminals, because they know they are not.
By standing against the lie embodied in this unnatural anti-self defense concept of "gun control," you are making the ultimate statement to truth, justice, integrity and honor. You are assuring that the Police in America will not go down the same path as the Politzei of the Nazi era, passively participating in the oppression of those citizens disfavored by the current government. (James Madison: "Americans [having] the right and advantage of being armed- unlike citizens of other countries whose governments are afraid to trust the people with arms.")
Man, this guy, this Henry Bowman (Interestingly the same name as one of the protagonists in Unintended Consequenses) doesn't take half measures. For what it's worth, I think his message should be broadcast far and wide. Somebody give this guy a medal!
Tuesday, August 24, 2004
I show this to anyone who is on the fence or slightly anti- self defense. If anyone is totally anti-self defense, their logic is so skewed that nothing really makes a difference, except for the possibility of having to undergo a violent crime of some sort.
Self Defense is a Basic Human Right.
The misanthrope hates not man. The misanthrope hates idiocy, stupidity, self-righteousness, authoritarianism, selfishness, greed, ignorance, dishonesty, cant, and balderdash. All of these he hates rightfully. The problem is that all of these are shared by no other member of the animal kingdom but man. And the misanthrope does not entertain the vain hope that these traits will ever stop determining man's behavior.
Good stuff, good stuff.
Monday, August 23, 2004
It was a nice get-together, Me, Molly, Nate & Tess, Mom, Vic, Dad, Merge, and Nana and Granddad. It was nice to be at the beach together, but I really can't wait until the farm is built- much nicer to have a 10 minute drive back to "home base" rather than an hour and a half one.
Speaking of this Farm, I'm starting to get a little worried about it. Dad has always said that it would be like the Family Camp, the Retreat in which we would all be welcome at anytime, with no ceremony. This sounds ideal, and would really be a great thing for our family. I'm starting to think that this may not actually be the case though, as Dad said to me not too long ago to just call him if we were going to spend the night there, in case they invited one of their friends over, and they didn't want to take up one of our bedrooms.
All well and good, but this changes the idea of the farm from a place that we know we can always go to and consider "ours" to one where we just have to ask permission to go there. Once we have to ask permission, it will become Dad and Merge's farm, and going there will be just like going over to their house. Enjoyable certainly, but not "homey", and certainly not relaxing. It is their place, however, and they are certainly welcome to do what they want with it. I just hope they recognize that if it does really become just an extension of their house, we won't be over all that much.
All this being said, it's still unbelievably generous that they are doing this, and it has a lot of great potential, and I hope it brings us all together more often.
In other news, this week is the week that the Portland Maine job becomes either a reality or a rejection. I've put it out of my mind entirely, but Molly's having a harder time doing that.
Sunday, August 22, 2004
Thursday at the campsite, one of the campsites along the Kankamangus highway, passed quietly, and without incident. So did Friday night. Saturday was a different story. The radios started playing early, and the yahoos came out of the woodwork- every *good* camper's worst nightmare. You could hear, smell, and feel the drunked debauchery and excess that was going on in quite a few of the campsites around us. Sleep came hard and late that night.
The next morning came, and we got up early to go climbing again. After breakfast, the coffee did it's usual magic, and I wandered off to the Pit Toilet to offload some excessive baggage. As I approached the toilet, I noticed something was...different. It was like something died nearby. As I got closer, I realized that the smell was eminating from the outhouse structure itself, and it stank like you would not believe. No ordinary stink, this, it was fouler than Beelzebub's own toilet after a hard night with cheap beer. But I had to poop, so I reluctantly opened the door and was almost swept away by the stench. I started to suspect that someone had thrown a body into the pit a few weeks ago, and it was only now starting to decompose. Looking seven or so feet down the toilet into the pit revealed the ugliest possible miasma of human effluent. I sat, determined to do this deed as quickly as possible.
The poop, when it came very quickly after I sat down, was a good one. Solid, one piece, and torpedo shaped (I imagine, I didn't actually check). It came out rapidly, like a watermelon seed that was squeezed between two fingers. It shot out so quickly, and so determinedly, that my morbid imagination started to go over various scenarios, and the most likely one was that this thing was goign to hit that stuff down below...hard. What happens when a solid object hits the water straight down? It creates a hole, which the water fills up quickly with a *splat* noise, and ejects a good quantity of water upwards.
This turd hit the waterwith the poise and grace of an olympic diver and created a perfect hole in the vileness below. The vileness, in turn, rushed in to obey the laws of physics, and with a flat sounding *splat* that made me absolutely cringe, I knew I was to be on the recieving end of some really foul shit.
Indeed, that horror below was ejected up over seven feet into the air to splatter on my butt. I knew from the moment of launch that this would happen, yet I was frozen in disbelief until I actually felt it on my nether regions. Needless to say, there were no shower facilities at this campsite. It was the most disgusting thing to happen to me in a long, long time.
Break to a few weeks ago when I went with Molly and the kids to Story Land, in New Hampshire. We took the Kank because it was a more scenic route, and halfway through the drive across it, Nate informed us that he had to go to the bathroom. We stopped at a rest area on the Kank that had, right there by the side of the road, a pit toilet.
Now Nate is sort of fascinated with holes in the ground in general, and his absolute love is to drop things into the water. The pit toilet represented a novelty of the First Order. I went in there with him because he likes to have the company, and because I don't want him to pick up a candy bar with nuts in it or anything. So, he manoevers himself onto the toilet seat after a long investigation of the hole, looking at all the shite and yucch down at the bottom. He is very excited at the prospect of being able to drop something from his own body into the water, and is somehow craning his head around to look down the hole as he sits on the edge of the seat.
You know what happens next, I bet.
A big :PLOP!: and then backsplash reaches up, out of the toilet seat, into the air a few feet, and splatters onto his head. He had no idea. I was simply horrified.
I don't know what I'm going to do about pit toilets in the future.
Saturday, August 21, 2004
You must believe that being a drug addict is a moral failing and a crime - unless you're a millionaire right wing radio personality; then, it's an "illness" and requires prayer for "recovery".
You must believe that those born to privilege achieve success all on their own.
You must believe that folks who work for their money should be taxed at a higher rate than those who inherit theirs.
You must agree that racking up huge amounts of debt to future generations is worth the few thousand extra in tax breaks you give to your wealthy "investors."
You must believe that the US should pull out of the UN, but that our highest national priority is enforcing UN resolutions against Iraq.
You must believe that government should stay out of people's lives, except to punish anyone having private sex with the "wrong" gender.
You must believe that pollution is ok, so long as it's profitable.
You must support prayer in schools, as long as no one is allowed to pray to Allah or Buddha.
You must believe that "Standing Tall for America" means firing your workers and moving their jobs to India.
You must believe that a woman cannot be trusted with decisions about her own body, but that large multi-national corporations can be trusted to make decisions affecting all mankind with no regulation whatsoever.
You must love Jesus and believe that Jesus loves you, and that He shares your hatred of the poor, homosexuals, and the Clintons.
You must hate the ACLU for representing convicted felons, and believe they owed it to the country to bail out Oliver North.
You must believe that the best way to increase the morale of the military is to serve turkey and empty praise to the troops overseas, while cutting their VA benefits.
You must be willing to believe that group sex and drug use are degenerate sins that can only be purged by running for office as a Republican.
You must see the "wisdom" in keeping condoms out of schools, because without condoms, there will be no sex among teenagers.
You must agree that the best way to fight terrorism is to alienate our allies, rattle our saber to the rest of the world and then demand their cooperation and money.
You must agree that government-run health care is a disaster, while insurance companies only care about giving you the best darn health care there is, damn the profit. You must also believe that providing health care to Iraqis is good policy, while providing it to Americans is a "Socialist plot."
You must agree that the link between tobacco and cancer is "dubious," that claims of global warming are "junk science" and that creationism has a sound scientific basis that should be part of all school curricula.
You must believe that waging war with no security or exit strategy was wrong in Vietnam but right in Iraq.
You must agree that Saddam Hussein was a good guy when Reagan was sending him arms, a bad guy when he invaded Kuwait, a good guy again when Cheney did business with him at Halliburton, and then a bad guy again when Bush decided that a war in Iraq would be a very lucrative deal for his "investors."
You must believe that the Bill of Rights is absolute in the case of the Second Amendment, but the rest of the document is negotiable.
You must agree that the adulterous affairs of Democrats require public embarrassment and impeachment, while those of Republicans are a private matter, and excusable because, well, "boys will be boys" (or girls) You are also required to ascribe to the notion that the Clintons' business deals are major breaches of the public trust, while the fact that Dick Cheney is still being paid by Halliburton, which is now getting billions of your tax dollars, is simply not a big deal.
You must agree that lying about a country in order to start a war is simply how you do business, and no one should be upset by it.
You must believe that everything that Democrats do should be public knowledge, but that the public has no right to know anything that Republicans do.
You must always deride a Democrat's changes of mind and philosophy as a "flip-flop," while referring to those of fellow Republicans as "growth."
You must openly support "state rights," except when John Ashcroft wants to force local libraries to turn over their records or Tom DeLay wants to impose new districts because he doesn't like election results.
You must agree that the outcome of an election is always more important than making sure everyone got to vote and that all votes were counted.
You must agree that income tax cuts for the rich are good for the economy, while payroll tax cuts for the working class are bad. Furthermore, you must believe that making sure that the rich have a few extra dollars in their pockets is good for the economy, while raising the minimum wage is detrimental.
You must believe that trade with Communist Cuba is wrong, while increasing trade with China is perfectly fine.
Thursday, August 19, 2004
I typed up this story for a Subaru board I'm on, to describe RKBA to those who haven't yet "taken the red pill"
Lemme tell you a story.
A long time ago, a bunch of guys got together with a really unique opportunity. They got to build their own country *from scratch*. No one had done this in a very long time, and they all came from places in which rule and government, had, for centuries, been from birthright alone.
Think about that- you get to build your own nation, make up all of your own rules, and do anything you want! No precedents anywhere that you have to follow.
So, as everyone knows, they came up with a few ground rules- Chief among these were that the government of this new country would *always* be a government of the people, and the people were served by the government. This was key.
From this one ground rule came a bunch of sub-rules- like people could say what they wanted about the government without restriction. All men are created equal, etc. People have the freedom to choose a religion they like and worship they way they want to. They covered all the shortcomings of places that they left.
Now remember- the basic rule for this new country was that government will always be a people's government. They put in safeguards to that it would be hard for government to go out of control. They instituted the three branches of Government, made up a system of checks and balances, and restricted terms in office and suchlike. The key idea here, again, was to keep the government under control.
However, even with all these checks and balances in place, there were still plenty of examples throughout history in which the government started out doing what it was supposed to, then accumulating more and more power, and then the people were pretty much out of control and at the government's mercy.
So, they instituted an additional rule, which was considered to be an integral part of the checks and balances system of their new nation- the rule was that all people shall have the right to keep and bear arms. Not to defend the country against invaders, and certainly not to have the right to hunt, but rather so that if the new government *did* somehow go out of control, the citizens would always have the right and means to regain control of the country by force.
A final "reset button" if you will. A means of, when all else (and I really mean ALL else) fails, the people can rise up and take control of the country again. This is why the second amendment exists. It is for this, and for no other reason.
Now, that all being said, the country is a pretty stable place right now. We have democratically run elections every four years, the checks and balances system more or less works, and it's been running okay, with some major changes here and there (think: Income tax- only started in the 1930's) but otherwise pretty stable. Those guys did a really great job when they wrote those rules. It has produced a pretty stable, flexible, and prosperous country so far.
There are changes. Lately, the Patriot Act for instance. It was a law that passed into being under somewhat shady circumstances, if you recall. So far it has restricted the freedom of the people only a little bit, not too much to be concerned with. But it will still be law when the next president rolls into town. And the next one.
In ten years, they could easily strengthen it. Especially if (when) there is another terrorist attack. And what would you do if, in 20 years, it gets strengthened again, and this time there is a curfew involved for some people? You can see where I am going with this.
The reason the RKBA people are so zealous over this issue is that it gives away the final, ultimate control that citizens have over the government. And while we don't necessarily need an assault rifle today to overthrow the government (Heck, it's almost and I haven’t needed an assault rifle *all day long*), can you guarantee that you won't need one in ten years? Twenty? How about fifty years from now? How about a hundred? Two hundred?
Take the guns away now, and they will be gone forever. We want this country to be around and stable for a long, long time. That's why they fight this stuff so hard right now. To paraphrase the gun control folks, it’s For The Children.
Wednesday, August 18, 2004
Indeed they did. Now there exist some very compromising pictures of one of our staff members, who willingly put her camera to Good Use. The pictures are known to a very select number of people here, almost entirely in the IT department, and the person who took the camera home, studied poses in an adult magazine and did her level best, does not know that they are more or less public domain now. Even though no one will or should know about this in the company, and hopefully never will, I feel that somehow I deserve a raise for this little piece of foresight.
I killed my potential job at Cambridge Health Alliance today. Just flat turned down a $84k/year job offer coz I just didn't feel like a-doin' it. I can see project managing something if you are familiar with it, but I'd have two additional things to project manage there, both of which I have no experience with at all. Top that off with the fact that there is only on-street parking, in which you have to move your car every two freakin hours and I say No Thank You. I can't see ebing overwhelmed with a new job and having to be interrupted four times a day to fight for scarce street parking. I'll stay with my job here 'till something comes up in Maine.
On the plus side, I was able to disassemble my ruger magazine last night, clean it, and reassemble it. Hopefully it will still feed cartridges- I'll find out today, if I can duck out of work for a quick break.
Work places ought to have napping rooms available to employees.
Tuesday, August 17, 2004
I've become re-aquainted with the word "blumpkin", which is one of the funnier words in the language for some reason. You can look that one up for yourself.
I took the Boy into work today so the Girl could have an allergist's appointment in relative peace. I took him to the shooting range for a bit, which made a big impression on him. We shot my Ruger 77/22 a little, but not more than 25 rounds or so, because I noticed that my magazine was sticking and not springing the cartridges up into place to be stripped off by the bolt. That reminds me, I gotta clean that tonight.
I think I'm going to try to get together with my Dad later this week to buy his P-22. I have such a good time shooting that little thing, andI think it's time to break it to Molly that I'm gonna be a handgun owner. She's handled the rifle pretty well, now it's time to take it to the next level. <- I hate this phrase so much, because it doesn't really describe anything, it's just a vague idea form. Also, people who are against the idea of self defense use it a lot to indicate why bringing a gun to a gunfight is a Bad Idea- it brings the violence to the "next level".
Monday, August 16, 2004
I spent yesterday with Nate, we went shopping, to the mall, like a couple of girls. Granted, we spent most of the time in the arcade playing driving games, then went to "daddy's toy store" which had guns, primarily, and then "Natie's toy store" which had toys.
I finally realized how to beat the big bull creature in Doom too, last night. It was sort of pissing me off that you had to kill it in such a wierd, lame way, but oh well.
Tomorrow Nate will be coming with me to work- I think I'll take him to the range and let him watch me shoot. If I think that it is right, I might let him sit with me and pull the trigger. I think he'd love that. My idea is that I would hold the gun on target, resting on the table top, and Nate would reach in to do it. I don't think his hands are really big enough to grip around the stock though, so I'm not sure how this would work out.
At any rate, we shall see how it works out.
New job update: Hoping that a job in Portland ME works out. Am interviewing for a Cambridge group that wants me badly, will give me a small raise, but it's project management, which I hate, it's only a 2 year position, which is risky, and there is NO FUCKING PARKING at the site- this grates on me most of all, I think.
It turns out Andy Molloy knows, hunts and/or fishes with the CEO of the Portland group, and Tykie also knows one or more of the doctors there. We shall see what we shall see.
And now, Frogboy.
Wednesday, August 11, 2004
Dear Chief L****, (or Chief F*****, depending on when you get this)
I am writing you this letter in order to clarify my reasons for requesting a Class A license to carry firearms.
In the past, I have not felt the need to carry a weapon of any sort, with the possible exception of a short time that I lived in Miami FL. (I had some mace then.) S******* is a very quiet town, fortunately, and I am thankful for that, and I expect it to continue to be a quiet town, with a very low probability of encountering any threats to my person.
I work, however, in an environment that is changing. I am the IT manager of the MRI Centers of New England, and we have 8 sites currently, all over Massachusetts and Rhode Island. My job is forcing me, more and more, to start transferring large amounts of valuable merchandise, (laptops, computers, flat screen monitors, and medical equipment) late at night to do my work, when the centers aren’t so busy. Specifically, I have had instances when I haven’t felt safe loading things into my car from the site, or vice versa. I have had, on occasion, to stop what I was doing, and go inside until I felt that I was no longer getting unwanted attention from people. It is times like this that I have a reason to fear injury to my person or property.
We have centers in Chelsea, MA (100 Everett Ave) and Springfield MA (3500 Main St). These two places are not in the best of neighborhoods, and I don’t see my job function changing anytime soon.
I don’t intend to carry a weapon on a regular basis, around town, or on the weekends. I would carry during those times at work when I felt that the risk, and my exposure, is higher than it normally is. I also don’t intend to get rusty or unfamiliar with the weapon I would carry- Our Woburn center (where my office is) is about 200 yards from the Massachusetts Rifle Association, so I can practice daily, almost, on my lunch break. I have been shooting rifles and handguns with my father for the better part of twenty years now, on and off. I am familiar and comfortable with firearms, but I have never lost the respect I have for the damage they can cause when inattentive or careless with them.
I fully understand the magnitude of responsibility you bear when you carry a weapon. Not only do you expose yourself to civil and criminal suits should you need to use it, but your judgment must be absolutely solid, your situational awareness must be very alert, and your ability to verbally defuse a potential situation becomes that much more important.
I hope to God that I never have to use a weapon to defend myself, but afraid of that as I am, I am even more afraid of leaving my wife, 4 year old son, and 1 year old daughter without a Dad.
You probably get many requests for this, and I understand a Police Chief’s hesitation in granting such a license to a person that they don’t know. I can assure you, however, that I will do everything in my power to be one of those people that you simply never hear about until three and a half years have gone by, and it’s time to renew again.
Thanks for considering,
So I gave up and eventually Molly went in there to pick her up and hold her. I didn't go back to sleep myself, but lay awake in bed listening to Tess burble away happily in her mother's arms for the next 45 minutes or so.
She fell asleep, and Molly put her back in her crib, came back to bed, and we counted to about eighteen before Tess woke up again with the same MO- wouldn't respond to me, only wanted Mommy. After the third repetition of this, I just said that she would just have to cry it out. This was at about 5AM, and naturally the noise woke Nate up, who came into our bed and started poking Molly, talkng to her, and trying to shove her off the bed.
I took him out to give Molly some rest, Closed all the doors to minimize the noise, and went with Nate into his room to keep him company. Every so often I would poke my face into the screaming girl's room to tell her that all was really okay, and she should give it up and go back to sleep. I checked her every now and then to make shre she was not rashy or feverish or anything, but she was just fine. And pissed off.
At about 5:30 or so (Nate was playing in his room) I made some coffee, washed some dishes, cleaned up the kitchen a little, got the kid's breakfast ready in preperation to bring them all downstairs for a little video oriented parenting, but by 5:50, when I told Nate that it was okay to get up and get out of his room, Tess had fallen asleep, proned out over her warm water bottle.
I cant wait.... wait a sec....Tess is up again. It's 6:15. She's screaming again. Well, it's time to get up anyway.
She is very happy to be downstairs with her brother and I. I think I need a lot more coffee.
Tuesday, August 10, 2004
Up at the Data Center at 6am, installed stuff and was able to reboot the servers before 7Am when people get to work.
OTOH, Molly might have found me a great job up in Maine. It seems almost a perfect match. I emailed them my resume and such, we'll see what happens.
My motherboard crapped out two mornings ago, so it's been difficult to continue my Doom 3 game. Still in the Delta labs, and I won't be getting to hell until I get a new motherboard. Especially if it's an intel one. :)
Sunday, August 08, 2004
News sources yesterday reported an American beheaded in Iraq. It was splashed all over the place. Next day, (this morning) it comes out that apparently it was done by some guy in California with his friends, to make a point of how the media can present something as fact with no verification.
Now, the guy is being questioned by local authorities and the FBI. This is the best part: They are seeing if the "can press any charges" against the guy.
The government is embarrassed, and now they want to bust him for something, using sensitivites of beheading victim's families as the cause, or injured party.
So Michael Moore can make statements like this with video, and is an Icon, but the average guy has to hire a few lawyers?
Of course, only a few hours after reporting this fakery, the embarrassed media as shuffled it off to page 298378427- I doubt we hear about this in the popular media again.
Bleh. I hate media.
Edit: Seems to work now. Good going, Blogspot, being so quick with fix requests like this. :p
A LITTLE ABOUT ME:
My name is James, I am 38 years old, and I live in Massachusetts. I have two kids, a 4 year old boy and 1 year old girl. I will be interrupted a lot.
(after 4 hour interruption)
Back. I work full time, my wife stays home with the kids, and we own a house. Pretty white bread stuff. I get my news almost entirely from the internet, usually from Google News. Other news sources include a subaru web board, and a gun owner's board
Also, I am getting fatter, tipping the scales at almost 200 pounds lately.
This will be me, I'm sure.
I have away too much going on in my life to blog regularly, and adding to that, I don't have any dep thoughts whatsoever. In fact, whole days go by without me thinking, even at work. So whomever reads this is not going to get away with any additional cool or relavant information at all.
Anyway, self fulfilling prophecy check #1:
This won't last too long.