OH, NOHs!

Just going through my emails and hey! Seems my cable company is about to disconnect me! Seems like I have to click this here link thingy to set my account straight! Dammit - I likes moi TV!

Oh, wait.

Got DirecTV, and there is no cable internet in this town.

Those rascals! Why, that right there is funny, but what would be funnier would be a pickaxe protruding from the spammer's forehead! That would be real, real funny. I'd laugh and laugh at them.

Merry Christmas!

The tree at the "new place." Notice the all purple theme - EMAW, suckas!

Luke 2: 8-14

And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.  And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.

Just a reminder of the reason for the season.

I'm all about folk art

This is my "ex" neighbor's Christmas present to me - "J" is one of those arts and crafts women whose creativity just can't be stopped. This cross's wire came from the burned out Poor Farm, with some appropriate decoration, and has a place of prominence now at the "new place" on the living room wall.

I love it.

Perhaps Christmas does have it's roots in an old pagan ritual, but that was the past and meanings change. These are symbols of our Christian Christmas heritage now. With all that in mind, I wish everyone a Merry Christmas and hope today finds you safe and warm with loved ones enjoying the camaraderie and fellowship that follow. I certainly am - I'm at my sister's and it's supposed to get pretty snowy underfoot here real soon. Just the sort of Norman Rockwell scene I generally have to drive through or work in, but not today, so I'm all set to enjoy the show, hang with the family, eat too much, and stare at the inside of my eyelids for a period of time. Hope and pray y'all can do the same.

Goin' Over The Fiscal Cliff

The whole issue pisses me off, because we are being played as idiots. And frankly, considering the way a slight majority voted, we're more than happy to act the fool.

Increase taxes on the top 2% of income earners, the Democrats say, and it will all be sunshine and lollipops, cuz those bastards earn too much anyways, and they get too many tax breaks, and it's time they coughed it up.

Of course the Republicans argue that this will hurt the economy even more, because those rich people are gonna pass on the tax burden to the rest of us through their businesses by increasing prices, cutting spending and investment, and so on and on. Probably true, but it still misses the point.

If we out and out confiscated all the top 2%ers income, it wouldn't cover the expenses for even a full year. And expanding entitlement programs, increased government funding of pet projects (think Solyndra), and just generally increasing spending all over is just plain stupid.

If balancing the budget is the goal.

It is not.

Getting reelected is the goal - that is why both sides lie to us - they're afraid we'll kick 'em out if we finally understand that we all have to have our taxes increased if we expect to pay the debt - or even just match current spending. This includes those who are not paying any federal income tax now - they're gonna have to sacrifice some of their entitlements in order for the goal to be achieved. Cutting spending would certainly make it easier to do, but it still would be a major pain in the arse for everyone.

And the Feds cutting back on what they spend is gonna mean state and local governments will want more to keep the programs they feel are mandatory going, so we would all have to take in another notch on the ol' belt there.

This is the way it is, and I get tired of being lied to.

No, Danziger, He Is Not

This twisted individual is NOT the NRA. He couldn't even pass a background check to buy a gun, remember? And you seem to deliberately forget all the educational efforts, training, safety and other areas the NRA undertakes in order to make a non valid irrational hyperbolic and sensational invalid point.

You, on the other hand, are a bigot wallowing in statist dreams of dominance and superiority over those less enabled than your fine self. Go away, I'm tired of your bleating.

If Journey of Faith Didn't Do It For You

Perhaps this flash mob will:


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The final movement of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony. My mother would have loved this - she played the bassoon in her high school and college orchestras, and as you can see, the whole thing starts out with one. This is apparently one of the hotter videos on YouTube at the moment, and y'all can certainly see why.

Is it an authentic flash mob? Apparently not:

Commenters on the video have rightly noted that it does not appear to be a flashmob in the purist sense of the word. Watching the video a few times over, it does seem that the audience was aware something might be happening that day -- although their surprise and delight does seem genuine, so presumably they were not told exactly what to expect. Also, it is unlikely that the audio track that accompanies the video was recorded at the same time as the video because the sound is so good and the players do not appear to be miked.

And then there is the inescapable fact that this flashmob was staged by a Spanish banking consortium called Banco Sabadell in honor of its 130th anniversary, so it is not exactly a coincidence that the orchestra chose to gather in front of the Banc de Sabadell.

Does it matter to you? Does not to me! Sometimes we find silver linings in the cloud of our brave new world, and this sort of thing is one of them. Imagine trying to explain a flash mob doing this, the explain the institution that brought this video clip to us, over the internet to, oh, my parents, much less my grandparents.

Special thanks to jed, who mentioned this in his comments to the post about Journey of Faith's flash mob performance.

Got the Christmas Spirit Yet?

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If this clip doesn't do it for you, there is no hope. It's been around since 2010, so it isn't new by any means, but I like it.

Just a little background:

Journey of Faith performed a Christmas "Flash Mob" at the South Bay Galleria in Redondo Beach on December 18, much to the delight of local shoppers. Thanks to all who participated. Merry Christmas everyone!!

Journey of Faith can be found here.

If I were so lucky to witness such an event, singing along would definitely occur. Probably at a lower volume, as not to deter other's experience of the event, if you know what I mean and I think that you do.



H/T Ant Gail

Crank It Up!

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If you should pull up next to me on some interstate, while this song is on the radio, you will be utterly convinced I am suffering from some sort of spaz attack. Bobbing my head, tapping the steering wheel, and just movin' with the groovin.'

Are You Kidding Me?

Really? Jeff Danziger thinks all the mass killers were exposed to "excessive" toy guns as children? Just dismiss those silly ideas about how the little bastards were bats*^t crazy and how we as a nation do not have a mental health solution. Where TF is is degree in psychology, I wonder? When was the last time he was even at a toy store? I'm just curious, seeing how none of the toy displays I've seen for years even has a gun, much less this many.

Nope, Danziger is not biased or have an agenda, or forge ahead regardless of the facts.

Next up, Danziger will campaign to end the unsustainable war between Spacely Sprockets and Cogswell Cogs. For the children.

Well, F^(K You Too

Got this in the ol' spam trap:

The next time I read a weblog, I hope that it doesnt disappoint me as considerably as this one. I mean, I know it was my selection to read, but I in fact thought youd have some thing intriguing to say. All I hear is really a bunch of whining about some thing that you simply could fix if you happen to werent too busy searching for attention.

Then, a link to whatever they are selling.

Is this some sort of reverse psychology - trying to piss me off to make me buy throwback jerseys?

I'll whine all I want, a$$hole. My blog, not yours. If you had any sales ability, you wouldn't be spamming everyone you possibly could. You do, however, have an alarming lack of morals. So once again, fuck you.

For My Young Friend

Specifically my "niece" Alleah.

She has been highly disturbed by the deaths of the children in Newtown, CT. Enough that she has posted her feelings on Facebook.

I find myself dreading the thought of bringing a sweet baby into the world that I cannot protect from the world itself. I just can't fathom trusting the world to take care of my baby...not today.

I answered

:It has always been thus, Alleah. Maybe not with all the press coverage of the past, but monsters have roamed the earth since Day One. You wouldn't be here if your parents had been too afraid to try, and neither would I. 

And besides, I'm for thinking you and Dan would be wonderful parents to some lucky kids.

My niece was still bothered

How is it that babies I don't even have yet are enough to evoke the deepest of anxieties? 

Well, Facebook is ok, but it's not the venue for what I have to say to you, young lady. Perhaps this isn't either, but I'm gonna share my thoughts with everyone who cares to read it here.

You feel the way you do because of your compassion, sympathy and empathy for the underdog. You are particularly gifted in this area emotionally. Not many are. You also have a sense of responsibility for your actions. You have the innate ability to foresee the consequences of a particular action - and you use that ability frequently to help consider a course of action for everyday decisions. You feel the anguish and sorrow of the loss of innocent life. Couple that with your seeing that actually raising children is an awesome and solemn obligation. And you see your children would be no less susceptible to similar events.

And this scares the living shit right out of you. Enough that it will alter your life's trajectory. If you do or do not have kids, you will forever bear the scars and those scars will be there to remind you as long as you have two brain cells to rub together. Even though you are a fully grown woman, you are still learning and the world still shapes you. It is up to you to determine how.

I have no pat answer for this. All I can do is try to allow you to gain some perspective. And to do this, I have to be harsh. Life is cruel, unfair and cheap. It is.

The press is in full salivary flow about this story - it allows them to be crusaders against evil, profit from same, and pick at wounds before they can even scab over. All in the name of journalism - a noble idea that has become corrupted long, long ago.

Why aren't they covering the Middle Eastern schools (with kids inside) that are destroyed by our very own drones? Why aren't we outraged at the deaths of so many unborn children due to abortions?

Not our problem, apparently. Furrin' kids, maybe our enemies - no problem. Legal abortions - hey, stay the hell out of her womb, dammit. It's really not a human being at all, just a collection of cells, or something. Never had a chance.

Those murders, by the way, are state sanctioned. It's ok for the state to kill. So, we are let off the hook on the compassion front there.

And of course our human history is full of murder, as illustrated above.

I remember one summer harvesting near Altus, OK. Every summer, heavy rains would fall when we were trying to cut wheat. We'd go out and check the ground on a sunny day to see when we might get started again.

I got to poking around and walking out past the machines, looking at the little ponds of water in the wheat. There were hundreds of tadpoles newly hatched, swimming like mad, teeming. The next day, the pools had shrunk considerably, and the tadpoles were growing legs and arms, but it was a race they would lose, because the next day their little pond would be completely gone. They would dry out and die.

No doubt that was great news to a great many birds and whatever other creatures that might avail themselves of such a treat, but from a tadpole's perspective, that had to royally suck. Multiply that little scene by the hundreds per acre, and thousands of acres in the area, and that is a lot of dead tadpoles.

I also must admit to being influenced by this passage from The Sea-Wolf by Jack London, quoting a conversation between "Hump" and Wolf Larsen:

I halted. How could I explain my idealism to this man? How could I put into speech a something felt, a something like the strains of music heard in sleep, a something that convinced yet transcended utterance?

"What do you believe, then?" I countered.

"I believe that life is a mess," he answered promptly. "It is like yeast, a ferment, a thing that moves and may move for a minute, an hour, a year, or a hundred years, but that in the end will cease to move. The big eat the little that they may continue to move, the strong eat the weak that they may retain their strength. The lucky eat the most and move the longest, that is all.

Life is cheap. It is also prolific and abundant, but ultimately, the only life that is valued is when it is our own.

Now, truly, this is a rather bleak counterpoint, but it is the unvarnished truth. You simply must acknowledge that this is the way of the world, or you will drive yourself mad.

I do not mean that you should just fold up and blow away, no - that is not my ultimate meaning. It is how we face life's struggles that define our existence. It is how we defy the inevitable in an honorable way. It is Admiral David Farragut saying:  "Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead!" It is also Gus saying to Woodrow Call in Lonesome Dove:  "It ain't dyin' I'm talkin' about...it's livin'."

 It's all about how you choose to define your existence. It is, after all, your choice. You have the gifts of empathy and caring, and you are a responsible adult. You have had little choice in the former, but you have in the latter - you and you alone decided that responsibility was an important goal. You certainly had a lot of instruction in that area, but you made that choice.

So, grieve for the little ones who never had a chance. Take your stand on the side of justice and prevention, however you can, because that is what you do best.

But don't let it color your future in a dark way - instead, use this as a tool to keep yourself sharp and vigilant. For you have a lot to offer this world in the future, kiddo, and there are certainly people out there as well as future folks who can benefit from your talents and gifts.

Engineering Is Not In His Future

Jeffy continues to be amazed at what the world offers up to him every day that he is incapable of understanding.

♫ He's Making A List And Checking It Twice ♫

Ha ha ha! There is a third option Dolly hasn't thought of! Won't she be surprised Christmas morning when all she has is a lump of coal in her stocking! Santa remembers all the times you tattled, ya little sneak!

Honor

Painting by John D. Shaw/Copyright Valor Studios

On Dec. 20, 1943, a young American bomber pilot named Charlie Brown found himself somewhere over Germany, struggling to keep his plane aloft with just one of its four engines still working. They were returning from their first mission as a unit, the successful bombing of a German munitions factory. Of his crew members, one was dead and six wounded, and 2nd Lt. Brown was alone in his cockpit, the three unharmed men tending to the others. Brown’s B-17 had been attacked by 15 German planes and left for dead, and Brown himself had been knocked out in the assault, regaining consciousness in just enough time to pull the plane out of a near-fatal nose dive.

None of that was as shocking as the German pilot now suddenly to his right.
Brown thought he was hallucinating. He did that thing you see people do in movies: He closed his eyes and shook his head no. He looked, again, out the co-pilot’s window. Again, the lone German was still there, and now it was worse. He’d flown over to Brown’s left and was frantic: pointing, mouthing things that Brown couldn’t begin to comprehend, making these wild gestures, exaggerating his expressions like a cartoon character. 

Brown, already in shock, was freshly shot through with fear. What was this guy up to?
He craned his neck and yelled back for his top gunner, screamed at him to get up in his turret and shoot this guy out of the sky. Before Brown’s gunner could squeeze off his first round, the German did something even weirder: He looked Brown in the eye and gave him a salute. Then he peeled away.
What just happened? That question would haunt Brown for more than 40 years, long after he married and left the service and resettled in Miami, long after he had expected the nightmares about the German to stop and just learned to live with them.

Quite a story, no? There is more, much more, and I suggest you go and read the whole thing. Good stuff.

H/T Firehand

Moldy Oldy

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One good thing about SiriusXM's musical selection is that occasionally, just occasionally, one hears something one does not hear on terrestrial radio. And since what I prefer seems to be called "classic rock" these days, and there are fewer and fewer stations that play only that format (I'm looking at Bob, or Bill, or whatever with the "play it all and everyone is happy format"), it is kinda nice to listen to channel 25 and 26 (Classic Rewind and Classic Vinyl) for a change of pace. Normally, I'm tuned in to channel 90. NASCAR radio. Try to not be shocked.

This song is by Kim Mitchell, a Canadian musician who is now a radio personality in his home country. It came out in 1985 and was featured on an episode of Miami Vice (sooooo long ago!!!!). The death of one of his friends due to drunk driving is the inspiration behind the lyrics. It's not the lyrics that make it for me. Just a cool song.

Revenge Is A Dish

Apparently served up by Rat. Gawd how I wish I'd thought of this way, way earlier.

I Love Me A Good Story

Today, I went to the beachfront with my children. I found a sea shell and gave it to my 4 year old daughter and said "You can hear the ocean if you put this to your ear." She put the shell to her ear and screamed. There was a hermit crab inside and it pinched her ear. She never wants to go back! LoL I know this is entirely off topic but I had to tell someone! Also see my web site (redacted link to fuhree "teeeeeeen" Pr0n)

Ya had me till ya stepped sideways, spammer.

Now We Know

This is exactly how politics works.


H/T Ant Gail

Stick to Sportcasting

This is but one of many meme pictures floating around on Facebook tonight. In case you missed it, Bob Costas went on a rant during halftime of the Sunday Night Football game on NBC in support of gun control. He mostly quoted an opinion piece of Jason Whitlock's, apparently another bigoted and ignorant statist.

I could go on and dissect his arguments: they are certainly simple enough and have been debunked and proven wrong so many, many times before by about anyone with a brain, but what I want you to read is this open letter to Costas and Whitlock.

Gentlemen: I see that you have chosen to use the horrific crime of the murder of Kasandra Perkins to express your belief that guns are the problem, not the men who wield them. I am utterly certain that you believe that you have the moral high ground on this matter. I am equally certain that such a belief is appallingly wrong, not to mention terribly misogynistic. Why do I say this? Because had your desires on gun control been in place, I would not be alive to be writing this now. 

 I have an Ex. I have an Ex who, in the process of becoming my Ex, made credible threats to kill me. Why did I believe these threats were credible? Because among the primary reasons why I left him were that he had anger control issues, that he was a problem drinker well on his way to full blown alcoholism and that the things he was throwing at me were getting ever closer to my head. I decided to leave before finally snapped and actually hit me. He was displeased by this and made such displeasure known. 

 Do you know what kept me safe? Not some piece of paper. Not a judge tut tutting at him and shaking his/her finger and telling him to leave me alone. Not the police, who, after all, would only be able to respond once he had caused me harm. No, what kept me safe was my Glock. What kept me safe was my Glock and the fact that he knew I had both the ability and the will to empty a clip into his chest if he made good on his statements that if I did not come back, I would not see the next week. He never tried to do any of the things he screamed he would because he knew that not only would I defend myself but that I could. My Ex was nearly a foot taller than me and, at the time, had about 150 pounds on me. If he had been able to get close enough to me to harm me, there were very few options I had to protect myself. But with my Glock, well, I would be able to stop him before he got that close. I am alive today because he knew that if he tried to make that otherwise, there was a better than even chance he would be the one lying there in a pool of blood instead of me.

Now go and read the whole thing, what she says is very powerful and far more persuasive than any sort of logical conclusions I could imagine.

Tis Awesome

My buddy Road Pig called me the other day and said he had something pretty cool for me at his office (first place next door to the ol' abode), it had just came in that morning, and I needed to slip in and get it. He wouldn't tell me what it was - it was gonna be a surprise.

Well, yeah, it was definitely a surprise and pretty cool. This is a pencil drawing of my father when he was a teenager. Apparently one of his classmates drew up several of these of different people, and someone in town had this and one of their relatives. They ran across it the other day and remembered I didn't have any pictures of my dad because of the fire, and gave this to RP's wife Tracy to get to me. I bought the frame - the picture was taped to a slightly larger chunk of colored paper kinda used as a background, and the tape has yellowed with age.

I talked to this person, and she told me she thought Dad was probably a junior in high school. RP and I figured much the same already - somewhere in that age range. I am in the process of trying to find out just who the artist is and thank them - have a lead and left a phone message.

If you knew my father, this picture jumps right out at you - there is noooo doubt this is him.

I had a rather tumultuous relationship with my father, and I am equally to blame because I'd deliberately push his buttons when he pissed me off, so there is definitely that.

But there is not a day that goes by that I do not miss him, even fourteen years after he passed on.

Love ya, Dad.

Kick Off Already

The melonheads just found out about Daddy's huge life insurance policy. No more saying "NO!" at the candy store for you, Daddy!