Friday, April 30, 2004

A tale from the Legendary Shane Smith (VRWC)

For those of you who don't know, the Legendary Shane Smith is the co-founder of the Vast Right Wing Conspiracy. If you don't know exactly what that organization does... well... That's kind of the point. What sort of conspiracy would it be if every day folks like you knew abou it?

Shane, like me, is one of those folks who says what you wished you would've said.

One fine day Shane found himself on a stroll with his beautiful, inteligent, and wholesome wife Brooke. They were walking their puppy around Savanaha, and generally just enjoying the day.

They came upon a friendly, yet rotund, black woman who saw the puppy and said, "OH!!! What kinda dog that is?"

Recognizing this as Yoda-speak, Shane responded responded in kind,
"Cocker Spaniel that is. Eat much, it does not."

Its not widely known how common Yoda-speak is, but it is believed that Yoda-speakers find it offensive if you do not respect their customs, and respond in kind.

Never let it be said that the VRWC didn't do it's part to forward cultural understanding.

Thursday, April 29, 2004

Buy Low, Sell High

With Gold closing at $387/oz you can hear the screetching for miles. Even way down under JaimeR is pissing on about how good it is to be out of metals right now.

There is universal worry in the commodities area, though it's not reached panic yet. People will say that Gold has lost 40 bucks per ounce and note the falling sky.

Listen up girls. You only lose if you sell when the price is low. If you bought when gold was at 400, and now it's at 380, you don't sell. You buy more and you wait. I'm personally kicking myself because I don't have anything to make a buy with. I would love to wait till the middle of next week. I still feel anything below 400 is a good deal, because the economy is on quicksand. There is a correction coming that could go back as far as 300 years. We're talking gloom and doom here people. Dog and Cats, living together... Mass Hysteria.

Real Estate, i.e. debt, has propped the US economy up for far to long. The FED has backed themselves into a corner. They have a pissed off hungry bear called inflation pacing around them looking to make them a meal. They keep tossing him bloody steaks in the form of low intereste rates, to stave him off. Now they are running out of steaks though, and they see the Bear is getting board with them anyhow.

The FED will soon have to raise rates. When they do, things may teeter for a while, but eventually the rates will hit 8% or so... and that will be that. Without the new debt coming in, the house of cards falls apart.

Once it dies, 10 bucks an ounce of Gold won't matter one bit. It'll be chump change.

Buy low and hoard people. Buy low and hoard!
Bill asks: What makes teenagers kill themselves?

Let me start off by saying, if anyone has had direct experience with this, you have my deepest sympathy.

I don't know Bill, but I can shed some light on some aspects of suicide in general. The most at-risk people are those who have a member of their immediate family commit suicide. I think this relates loosely to the Veil of Civilization. Once someone in the family does it, suicide becomes a legitimate option, where as before, it's still beyond the Veil for most people.

Women are twice as likely as men to attempt suicide, but men are twice as likely as women to succeed. This is evidence that men and women do it for drastically different reasons. Women do it as a cry for help, because they want to change their life. So they usually take a bunch of pills, and leave the container in a place where it's easy to find. Most of the time, they are looking for attention, not death.

Men on the other hand aren't looking to change their lives. Men do it because they actually want to die. They jump off buildings, shoot themselves, or smash their car into a tree at 100mph. I know of a kid who went on the interstate on his motorcycle, and rear-end a car at about 155. Men tend to do it right. Something has happened in their lives that they would rather die than face. Bankruptcy, divorce, loss of a child, homosexuality or some other humiliation are often causes.

Teenagers are different though. They tend to do it as a means of communication, or revenge. They view their lives as so horrible that the only way they can express it, is to end it. They will also use suicide as a way to hurt those that they believe wronged them. Kids are abused all day everyday by just about everyone they see. Their parents ignore them, their teachers talk to them like they are idiots, and the system punishes them harshly for getting beat up. That's not even including the peer pressures, and the fact that what is left of the nuclear family has abandoned the best support system these kids have, which is the Church, and association with good christian kids and teachers who have their best interests at heart.

Bill, I don't know if that boy's dad or sibling killed himself. I don't know if he got beat up at school to much, or if his mommy ignored him, or if some freak molested him.

What I do know is, that kids who do what he did have been hurt badly.

I can't claim to know what God does with such souls. Biblically the age of accountability was 12, but who knows if that applies today. God's laws are firm, but his Grace is boundless. I wouldn't be suprised to meet your neighbor in Heaven though.

Forgive me for stating the obvious buddy, but everyone involved is in our prayers.

This crap only happens to me

Sometimes my life reduces itself to a Charlie Daniels song. This was one of those times.

A couple years ago I was looking to buy my wife an over-under shotgun for Christmas. I saw an add that described a peach of deal, but it was in Parkersburg, WV, about a 90 minute drive. This was back before I retired. Julie was late-call, meaning she wouldn't be home until about 11pm anyway. I called her up and told her I had somewhere to go and that I wouldn't be home until late. Now I realize that practically every other wife in the world would piss herself at those words. Julie ain't like most wives. When I told her I was going to Parkersburg, and refused to tell her why, she just responded, "well ok. Have some fun. I'll be home late anyway."

The next thing she said is where the trouble starts. We chatted a little more and just as I was about to hang up she said, "Seriously, go have some fun. Stop and grab a beer or something on the way home."

I didn't really think anything of it at the time. I left work and drove off down the road. As expected the fella who posted the ad about the shotgun was full of crap. It was junk. I didn't mind though. It was a nice clear night. Great night for a drive.

About 30 minutes outside of parkersburg I remembered Julie's words. I thought to myself, "Sef. You're 29 years old, and never once have you just up and stopped for a beer." Then and there I made up my mind. By God I was gonna stop some place.

Drivin' down hwy 50 I finally see this neon sign and I figgered what the hell. So I pulled off, got outta the truck and, against my better judgement walked inside. As soon as I opened the door I knew something was amiss.

See there were lots of girls, and well... they weren't wearin' very much at all. There were chrome polls here and there, and there was some half drunk nekkid broad dancin on a stage. Not at all what I had signed up for.

Well, I was there, and there was in fact a bar, so I figured I'd grab one Corona and head on down the road. I sat down at the bar, got my beer and tried not to draw attention to myself. Of course, a couple girls came around and wanted to chit chat. They flirted quite a bit, but hey, that's thier job at a place like this. So I played nice, but I mostly was trying to finish my beer and get the hell outta there before something bad happened.

That's when something bad happened. I was just about to kill that beer, and I hear, "Just whut tha hail da you thank yer doin' with my wife?" Well shit. This is just what I need.

I turned around to see this mountain standing behind me, and he looked like he'd like nothing better than to squash me like a bug. I said, "Whoa! Easy partner. I'm just sittin' here drinkin' my beer. The girl's came up to talk, and I wasn't gonna be rude to 'em."

The mountain growled, "Are you sayin' my wife was hittin' on you boy?"

Boy? For you who don't know, you do not call a man from the South "boy". So now I was startin' to get a little pissed, but thankfully the bartender chimed in, "Harlen leave the man alone. He was mindin' his own business."

"Yeah? Sounds like the little pissant was hittin on my wife to me, and I think I'm about to bust some ass."

Ok... now the cockly little bastard in me was really startin' to rise up. I said, "Look, if you got a problem with guys hittin' on your old lady, you should consider that before you dress her up like a whore and take her to a titty bar. In fact, why don't keep her tied up outside the trailer. She could keep your mom company."

Granted that was a stupid thing to say. Even while I was sayin' it I knew it was. Tactically I was screwed. I was pinched between him and the bar, he had at least 150 pounds on me, and the .357 was in the truck. Not good.

Well apparently he didn't like the trailer comment. He got red faced and I knew the world was just about to come to an end. That's when Christ himself showed up. Well actually it wasn't Christ. It was in fact a cinderblock shaped bouncer. Probly only 5'6" but he had to weigh 250 pounds. Guy was huge. Bulldogs don't look this freaky. He snatched the mountain up like a rag doll and pushed him up against the bar beside me. The cinderblock said, "Dammit Harlen, I just beat your ass on Tuesday, do I have to do it again?"

The mountain now suddenly resembled less a mountain and more a mole hill. He suddenly had a much different tone. "Yeah whatever. I gotta piss." and off he went.

I ain't the smartest guy around, as this story proves, but I ain't stupid enough to hang around a place of a near death experience either. I paid the bartender, thanked the cinderblock, and headed for the door.

That's when I saw ol' Harlen's wife. I just couldn't resist. I walked over to her, patted her on the ass, and said, "Now you tell Harlen I said bye now."

I heard a lot of laughin' as I left.

And well... That's the story of why you shouldn't stop for a beer on Highway 50.
Born yesterday was I?

I do love the scam mail. Suggestions are welcome.
Dear Friend.

My name is Ghamari Tazim, a merchant in Dubai, in the U.A.E.I have been diagnosed with Esophageal cancer .It has defiled all forms of medical treatment, and right now I have only about a few months to live, according to medical experts.I have not particularly lived my life so well, as I never really cared for anyone(not even myself)but my business. Though I am very rich, I was never generous, I was always hostile to people and only focused on my business as that was the only thing I cared for. But now I regret all this as I now know that there is more to life than just wanting to have or make all the money in the world.

I believe when God gives me a second chance to come to this world I would live my life a different way from how I have lived it. Now that God has called me, I have willed and given most of my property and assets to my immediate and extended family members as well as a few close friends.

I want God to be merciful to me and accept my soul so, I have decided to give alms to charity organizations, as I want this to be one of the last good deeds I do on earth. So far, I have distributed money to some charity organizations in the U.A.E,Algeria and Malaysia. Now that my health has deteriorated so badly, I cannot do this myself anymore. I once asked members of my family to close one of my accounts and distribute the money which I have there to charity organization in Bulgaria and Pakistan, they refused and kept the money to themselves.Hence, I do not trust them anymore, as they seem not to be contended with what I have left for them.The last of my money which no one knows of is the huge cash deposit of Eighteen million dollars $18,000,000,that I have with a finance/Security Company abroad. I will want you to help me collect this deposit and dispatched it to charity organizations.I have set aside 10% for you for your time and patience.please send a reply through thi s email address ( with your full contact information for more private and confidential communication.

God be with you.

Wednesday, April 28, 2004

All this talk about accidentally getting blasted with porn on the net reminds me of my tech support days. Yes, if you had trouble with your DSL line, you called me. Oh yeah boys, we had some fun. It's a matter of trivia that I also met Kristy, and the co-founder of the Vast Right Wing Conspiracy (VRWC), the legendary Shane Smith. But I digress...

On the evening in question I was manning the phones, and helping out an old codger who frankly had no business using this type of technology. The guy was in his 80's and sounded like Darth Vader. After a reg hack I defeated microsoft's "I-will-not-let-go-of-this-IP-and-you-can't-make-me" bug, and I asked the old fart to open up IE and make sure he was rollin'.

His homepage came up, and just to buy some time to finish my notes I said, "Why don't you check another page just to make sure it didn't load that one from the cache. I wanna make sure you are up."

He said, "I don't know any where should I go?"

I replied, "Oh, it doesn't matter... anywhere... try"

There was a pause...


I gathered myself and said, "SIR! SIR! Hot MAIL! M. A. I. L. Hotmail.. Mail. Like the postman!"


The man was panic stricken. It was bad! I was afraid he was gonna have a stroke. I finally calmed him down, deleted the cache and showed him how to clear the history.

He thanked me at the end of the conversation, and said he was off to drink it all away...

Amen brother.

Tuesday, April 27, 2004

More TTU fun

It's been to long since I spun a yarn, so I figured it was time. Enjoy.

Everyone who's been to college knows that jokes are just par for the course. Well what I'm gonna tell you today is one of the best jokes I've been a part of.. I mean.. witnessed.

The two guys who lived in the dorm room next to me were highschool buddies of mine named Brian and Jim. Now these guys were good Church boys. Both graduated high school and Brian and Jim were prone to lecturing the boys on the hall about why porn was stupid.

Looking back on it, that was unwise.

Like any truely great practical joke, several elements had to come together to make it work. This was no different.

A friend of one of the boys down the hall was coming in for the weekend. This guy could get his own topic to himself. Truely a walking posterboy for profilactics. The guy was a 20 year old virgin, who had the most astounding collection of porn media I have ever come across. Insane. Both in print, and in video, it was truely dumbfounding. We called him the P-Troll.

Coincidentally Brian and Jim were leaving on this particular weekend.

That's when the plan came together. Through somewhat dishonest means one of us aquired a key to Brian and Jim's room, and then we set to work. 8 of us worked for almost an entrie weekend. And I have to say, when we were finished... I looked upon our work, and I was proud.

Brian and Jim got back at about 8pm on sunday evening. They opened the door to their dorm room and just stood there in shock. Their room was covered, wall to wall, in hardcore porn magazine pictures. We're not talking Hustler here. I mean WAY worse than that. This was bad. It was everywhere. We had cut up over 100 hardcore porn mags, and pasted and taped the pictures all over the place. The room looked like it had been wallpapered by Ron Jeremy.

There was porn taped to the bottom of their keyboards. Porn inside their closets. Porn under their pillows. While they were furiously cleaning it up, Jim reached in to his refridgerator to get a coke, and pulled out a can wrapped in porn! Their miraclewhip bottle had porn on the inside of the lid! I mean we left nothing uncovered.

The next day, Jim was heading off to class. It was raining so he had an umbrella. He opened it, and all this porn folded down around him as the umbrella expanded! He was so pissed...

For months they would find porn hidden in their text books. They be thumbing through pages in class or in the library and... DOH!

2 years later I was looking through a Tech yearbook with Brian and his wife, when he suddenly slammed the book and left the room. He returned red faced and he and I just busted out laughing.

The girls never knew what it was about though.

The Great Liberal Stupid

The idiocy and the hypocracy of the left truely are boundless.
That such statements could come from an organization on the left coast is not a suprise. In fact, nothing about this is suprising. But sometimes we have to look behind the curtain, to remind ourselves just how vile the left is.

This site posts the headline refers to Pat Tillman as a dumb jock, and the comments that follow are truely sick. Vitriol like this can only come from the left, or the Northeast. For some reason all of those comments read better if you think of a Boston or New York accent.

Funny... Tillman isn't a hero because of all the 'brown skinned" people he went to kill... But John Kerry is a hero because of all the "yellow skinned" people he killed.

Ask me again why I am a secessionist. It should be obvious to anyone who's looking by now. There is nothing worth staying for.
The Fallacy of IQ

Our society makes a huge deal out of intelligence, but strangely, we have struggled for centuries with finding a way to quantifying it. Some equate it with success in formal education, others with success in business or occupation. Certain individuals -Vox- or organizations -MENSA- would have us believe that the issue has been solved. A series of neat and tidy tests tells us right away if Junior is smart or not, and just how much so, and even tells you where he falls nationally. How quaint.

It would be nice I suppose if such a thing became reality. Sadly it hasn't.

There is no way to objectively quantify something that is by its very nature subjective. History is rife with the catastrophic failures of those who've tried. The infamous Pritchard Poetry Scale comes to mind.

The problem with any IQ test is that it identifies not intelligence, but a pre-determined thought process, a way of thinking and working out puzzles. Taking a measure of one's ability to perform the card trick of finding patterns in colors and shapes, to one's ability to learn is just shamefully ignorant.

The IQ tests have a great deal like the Austrian Economics Quiz. It can't tell you what economics is right or wrong, but it can tell you who you agree with.

That's basically what I think of MENSA. It's a great many people who think alike, and congratulate themselves about thinking alike, and convince each other that because only a few people think like them, that they are therefore in some way special. Oddly enough Serial Killers often feel this same way, for this same reason.

I've always laughed at people who are so proud of their MENSA membership. They will have the publication mailed to their offices, and make sure that everyone sees it. They'll carry it around, and read it at the cafe. Hell some have even been known to put it in the bio of their WND Column.

The only way to find out what type of learning capacity someone has, is to sit down with them and watch them learn, in several different areas. The problem with that method is that it's subjective.

Go figure.

Elephants Suck

No other state demonstrates the utter bankruptcy of liberal thinking better than West Virginia. That includes the enema bag that is California. West Virginia has the 3rd highest per-capita tax liability in the nation, and the lowest total household income. Gee... I wonder why the economy sucks here?

The state of course is in a budget crisis because the idiot democrats, and I don't know why I bother clarifying the word 'democrat' with the word 'idiot' as by now it's been proven beyond all doubt that all democrats are in fact idiots by their very nature, have spent decades inventing problems and then convincing the public to let them attempt to solve them.

West Viginia is in the midst of the predictable budget crisis that results from such great stupidity. This "state" is electing it's governor soon and there is all the expected hub bub. The Democrats, or Morons if you will, are all promising to increase spending hither and yon on everything one can dream up, as morons are apt to do. The real problem though is with the Conservatives, The Elephants.

The Elephant boys are all running, and talking of raising taxes, in the name of fiscal responsibility. West Virginia has more BS programs than any state I've ever lived in, and consequently far higher taxes. It's a poor state with pathetic resources. So you expect Democrats to be stupid and talk about growing government, but Republicans now too?

Every Republican cantidate with a shot has mentioned raising taxes. Only one has talked about cutting programs, and they are only business hand-out type programs. No one has mentioned this "State's" addiction to wealth redistribution.

Vote for a Conservative? I'd love to. Just show me one.

Monday, April 26, 2004

Check Him Out

Seriously. This blog affected me the way Viagra affects Union Bosses. But Stoney, this don't mean we're gonna be takin' long showers together into the wee hours of the mornin'.

Nate's Dating Service: Episode 1

Thanks for tuning in and welcome. I'm Nate and this is my show dammit. I'm going to do an episode whenever I have available womens to report on. Comment and catcalls are more than welcome. Questions are welcome as well via email or the comments. The girls both check the blog, so you can talk to them there if you'd prefer. If you are married and know some good male types feel free to foward info to me. I can be trusted. I'm the host remember?

Two lucky contestants today boys.

1) Joy Lots of stuff posted about this girl. My sister-in-law to be exact. Strong christian girl looking for a guy who likes to get backrubs. Quirky sense of humor. She's a cutie. Teaches ESL, and has apsirations about maybe spending some time in South America. Joy loves camping and the outdoors, and she's always good for a laugh. Joy is 24, and lives in Chattanooga

2) Kristy Kristy is one of my best friends. It's highly unlikely that you'll be disappointed in the looks department here. The girl loves to cook, and loves dogs. Kristy likes her space though, so if you are the ultra clingy type... Move on. What else can you say about a girl who ran linux off of her home PC and can probly kick your ass at Tekken II? Kristy is 25 and lives in Knoxville.

I will personally vouch for these two girls. Both will make excellent wives. This is not a competition for the girls now. I love both and will not stand for anyone doing anything to embarrass either of them.
Those Who Will Not See

Here you will often find Christian War theology. Those of you who came from Vox's blog are well adjusted to this and have at least a tolken understanding of it. I see the world in a very similar way to Vox, and that largely explains my haunting his blog.

I ask you, who is more confused about the ways of our Lord than the Jew?

Reading over this page I am utter stunned at the complete stupidity. These fools actually believe that God was taking a corrective action by means of the Holocaust? This is just sickening.

God didn't cause the Holocaust. You can blame Hitler for being insane. You can blame the French for greedily destroying the German economy after ww1. But if you really want to look for someone to blame, then look to the true ruler of this world.

It's far more likely that Satan caused the Holocaust that God.

Psychologically people always want to blame God, because doing so allows them the hope that some mythical greater good was done. While this is nice and provides a warm fuzzy to one in need, it is hardly theologically sound. Who knew that even the Jews followed an omniderigent God.

Sunday, April 25, 2004

Boys, you've been called out

Joy writes: This development in male behavior...i.e. being a major reason why i'm 24 and still very single. There is no way in hell that i'm going to drive a bigger truck or have a more powerful gun or know more about "man" stuff than any guy i marry. this being the case...i remain alone.

I happen to know this chick has a Berretta .40 and a concealed carry license. Who's gonna start the bidding?

Two Thoughts

Surely you understand that between Talladega and the NFL Draft I have been comepletely useless this entire weekend. I do apologies. I assure you I will resume by previous standard posting habits tomarrow. for now:

1) Jeff Gordon sucks.

2) Damn it feels good to be a Titans fan.

3) I will not be bound by subject lines.

4) It takes a big man to cry. But it takes a bigger man to tackle that man from behind.

Saturday, April 24, 2004

Give 'em Hell Eli
The Chargers have no offensive line, they have no wide recievers, they have a coach that may be fired by they end of next year, and an owner that acts like the Seinfeld version of a particular top Yankee. Judging by the reaction of their fans, the Chargers also have no class.

Tomlinson alone does not a team make. If I were in Mannings shoes, I'd trip, and if I were the number 1 pick in the Draft, I'd tell the Chargers to kiss my butt.

Friday, April 23, 2004

The Ranger Creed

Recognizing that I volunteered as a Ranger, fully knowing the hazards of my chosen profession, I will always endeavor to uphold the prestige, honor, and high esprit de corps of the Rangers.

Acknowledging the fact that a Ranger is a more elite soldier who arrives at the cutting edge of battle by land, sea, or air, I accept the fact that as a Ranger my country expects me to move further, faster, and fight harder than any other soldier.

Never shall I fail my comrades I will always keep myself mentally alert, physically strong, and morally straight and I will shoulder more than my share of the task whatever it may be, one hundred percent and then some.

Gallantly will I show the world that I am a specially selected and well trained soldier. My courtesy to superior officers, neatness of dress, and care of equipment shall set the example for others to follow.

Energetically will I meet the enemies of my country. I shall defeat them on the field of battle for I am better trained and will fight with all my might. Surrender is not a Ranger word. I will never leave a fallen comrade to fall into the hands of the enemy and under no circumstances will I ever embarrass my country.

Readily will I display the intestinal fortitude required to fight on to the Ranger objective and complete the mission, though I be the lone survivor.

*** UPDATE***
The post above is the actual Ranger Creed. I did not write it. Sorry for any confusion.
College or Sweat?

One of my aunt's sent me a card when I graduated from highschool, and at the bottom it said, "So what's it gonna be? College or Sweat?"

As long as I can remember I have prefered hard physical labor, to tedious mental labor. In any occupation, you must surrender either your mind, or your body to your work. Personally, I have always prefered to submit my body to work, while I occupy my mind as I see fit. Doing so keeps my body in shape, and my mind sharp. Sitting at a desk, filling out useless reports and metrics eats away at both the mind and the body.

Ahh. but what of the challenging mental work like design? Fine. You solve puzzels for a living. I'm sure it's fun. But they are not puzzels of your choosing. You're body is occupied, and so is your mind. You are not free to think and ponder as you wish.

Do you ever wonder why truck drivers are opinionated? It's because they have had time to think about things, and form opinions.

You can have your fancy job, and your "I'm smart, look at me" title. I'll prefer to have my mind to myself, to use as I see fit. I have little use for titles anyway.

I'll take the sweat thanks.
The Cave

"Just like the People tied up in the Cave,
In the Alagory of the People in the Cave,
By the Greek Guy."
-They Might Be Giants

Ask a professor what the point of a bachelors degree is and he is likely to offer up the standard story. A bachelors degree shows that you have the base education, that you know the basic rules, so when you start to challenge the rules, people know you aren't doing it out of ignorance.

From there we can go on to say that a Masters Degree represents the time when you start challenging the rules with the critical thinking you already learned, and a PHD is when you start getting involved in writing new rules yourself.

That's all good and well, except that its a complete lie.

Critical thinking is not so much ignored in college, as it is ferreted out and destroyed. As anyone who graduated from a university in the last 20 years and returned to teaching will attest, the modern college curiculum is dumbed down to the point of no return. These two facts conspire together to form a terrible rot.

It is one thing to teach the blind chortle of facts. It's quite another to first blind a man, then teach him to chortle facts. When you graduate from a university today, you have shown a willingness to accept blindly facts and figures spoon fed to you by authority, as well as an ability to shape and mold yourself to that authority's will. Challenging authority in anyform is never tolerated.

Predictably as this system has taken its toll on post-grad students, post-grad programs have suffered. Rules and expectations are necessarily adjusted through-out, and the outcomes are just as predictable as the causes. You end up with PHD's who are more easily associated with a hostage who empathizes with her kidnapper, than a critical thinker.

It is the honor and the duty of the educated to lead the people from the cave. Sadly, today, it is the formally educated who are fleeing to the comforting shelter of the cave, and the deeper they go, the more they love the security it provides them.

Thursday, April 22, 2004

A Little Night Mission

Mid-April. Sundown. I'm out on the front porch enjoying the warm dusk air, about to enjoy my first beer of the evening. Ahhh... Here it comes... Wait. What's that sound? That rumble?

Curt! I'd know that v-twin Aprilia engine anywhere! 20 seconds later I'm suited up and into my pre-flight check. Turns out Curt had promised his girl a ride, and decided to stop and see if I wanted to roll along. Are you kidding? Flightcheck concluded, and everthing in order, I was mouted up, and off we went. Tonights mission would take us on the same loop as our previous ride, but from the opposite direction, one I'd honestly never taken before.

Once again I lead the way out the twisty neighborhood roads down to Don Knotts blvd. Pathetic huh? This road runs right through town, and takes us through campus so we can admire.... the scenery. Traffic is stop and go through campus but finally we reach the spot where the road stretches to 4 lanes. I had had enough. When you have a bike like mine you don't have to bother dropping gears. You just twist your wrist. Lean hard left and hold the throttle up the inclined road and into a tasty little 4 lane S curve. I suddenly found myself at a stoplight with a shitty grin on my face. Curt rolled up next to me and gave me a, "whatever" look.

We followed this road out of town across the Monogahela River and north up to highway 7. 7 is a well used road and we found ourselves in traffic behind a fatguy on a Harley. Nothing pisses a fatguy on a Harley off like a sportbike behind him. He'll kill himself to prove to you that he's fast, and all the while that's happening, you never even have to put your bike in the powerband to keep up. It's embarrassing, but they do it anyway. We weren't in the mood to hurt anyone's feelin's tonight so we let him be. Besides, it was time to turn off 7 and hit the real country roads we came for.

Turning on a motorcycle is what it's all about. In a car you move your arms. On a bike you move your whole body. It's dancing. It's fighting. It's rock and roll. The first stretch of country road is fairly straight, and this where we say hello to 9500 rpms for the first time of the night. The sun's gone now and it's dark. I've got my visor open and clear glasses on. The wind in my face is unbelievable. Trees and open farmland fly by. You can smell spring everywhere. God's nearby tonight. Up ahead I see a 35mph right-hand turn. No biggy on this bike. Squeeze the clutch, and left foot *click* *click* *click* drop three gears. Let out the clutch and let the engine scrub off a little speed. Wait for it... now lean hard and slam the bike to the right. Jerk the throttle open and all the power in the world pulls the bike straight up and out of the turn, hurtling forward like a .30 caliber bullet with bad intentions.

Wait a sec. I know this hill. Shit. Off the throttle, there is a farm up here at the top. There is always gravel at the apex. No good. WHOA! There's a flash of something black in the road and the rear tire goes... slides out sideways. Don't panic. Don't adjust. Let the bike save itself. There we go. Note to self, oil in the road. Whew. That was fun. Now over the hill... Now it's smooth sailing to the big sweeper 90 that is banked like it was built for Daytona. Up ahead I can see Curt ripping through it, and I laugh out loud as rabbits are bailing out from the road in all directions infront of him!

The next 25 minutes are filled with the joys of burning fossil fuels, hot rubber, the cool night air, good friends, and God everywhere.

To soon I find myself facing that same stoplight I talked about previously. Except this time its not the gate to Heaven. I've already been there, and now I'm coming back. That's ok though. That may be my most favorite stoplight in all the world.

Not long after that jaunt through town it's time to park the bike, hug the boy, kiss the girl, and oh yeah... Where's that beer?

It just doesn't get better kids.
Nation Building

There is a very fundemental reason that this tactic will not work in the case at hand.

The key component to nation building is first psychologically destroying the people and culture of the object nation. In the three most obviously successful instances of nation building; Japan, Germany, and the C.S.A., this was present in various forms. In the South people were first taught to hate blacks, then taught to hate themselves. In Germany, the people had already been taught to hate Jews, so it was just straight on to self hate for them. In both Germany and the American South evidence of this remains today. Show a german an Iron Cross and watch them cringe. The US beat southrons over the head with slavery until now the average southron will dimly reply, "Comrad, the war was about slavery and the right side one." The Allies beat the germans over the head with the ovens and gas chambers, until the germans actually made it illegal to display any symbol associated with the NAZI party.

The reason nation building won't work in Iraq, is that we cannot destroy the psyche of the Iraqi people without destroying the culture of Islam itself. The culture is to widespread for such an attack.

If nation building is the tactic, then we will fail. Of course, if we are just positioning ourselves for Phase III, then we may be in fine shape afterall.
About that Veil

Easy boys. I wrote that to make a point about civilization, not to form a place for you to compare psychopathia. I've compared this blog to a bunch of guys bs'ing around a campfire, and as long as that's what it is, and what it stays then I'm happy. Let's remember though that kids and women read this stuff. I don't want to water this stuff down, but I also don't want a pissed off malfunctioned teenager to read this and think that we just said that murder is really OK afterall.

Wednesday, April 21, 2004

UMC Update

After speaking at length with the Minister of my Church on the matter at hand I'm cautiously confident that the matter will be resolved to my satisfation. The Church leadership has been stirred up considerably about this matter, as one would hope. Every Bishop of every Conference has called mandatory meetings to go over the matters with the ministers in their charge. The crux of the matter is apparently a legal loophole that was exploited, which resulted in the verdict. This so called loop-hole is complete fiction. I quoted the Methodist Doctrine in the previous entry. Even those of you who have disdain for the UMC, probably find no fault with the language used in that section. It is clear, direct, and concise, but apparently someone found a way to manipulate it.

The Church does not have the authority to over turn the verdict. All they can do is not re-assign her, and that's what they are doing. Steps will be taken at the General Assembly at the end of the month to fix this loophole, and probably to re-organize the Pacific Northwest Conference. The Bishop of that Conference is apparently on the right side, and is up in arms about the matter, so we have that going for us.

No decisions yet, but I may remain a Methodist yet. I am hopeful.
The Draft

Well first we saw ramped up activity over at the selective service administration, and everyone said we were paranoid. Now we're seeing cornhuskers stand up and talk about reinstating the draft on the floor of the Senate. Not good.

Now I know Bane is gonna foam at the mouth when he reads this, but I'll say it anyhow. We don't need a draft. We should never need a draft, because we should never have a standing army. The only reasonable defense for the concept of a draft is an invasion of our country, but if the country was invaded, we wouldn't need a draft.

The basic idea behind a draft is to force people to fight in unnecessary wars.

Tuesday, April 20, 2004

The Veil of Civilization

Uh-oh. It's another one of those wierd titles again. You know this means trouble right? I posted once on Vox's blog about this. Sadly, it took Joseph Conrad, and Ernest Hemingway whole novels to explain this one, so my trying to do so in less than 1000 characters was simply an excersize in futility. Much like spelling, and grammar can be.

So what is this and why am I talking about it? Well, mostly because its fun, and I've thought a lot about it, and like I say at the top of the page, it's my blog dammit.

What this is about is why people do stuff, or more accurately, its about why they don't do stuff. There are certain actions that average joe just never considers taking. The Veil hangs over him, and prevents him from seeing through. Any action outside the Veil stirs up nasty feelings. He assumes that if he takes one of these actions, something unspeakably terrible with happen. God will strike him down, the sky will fall. He'll end up in a motel room with Hillary Clinton. Heep bad juju man.

The only way past the veil is experience. People tend to think of military men as dangerous because of their training. It's not the training. It's the experience. Combat vets of the same training level are far more dangerous than non-experienced fightes. A combat vet has seen beyond the veil. He knows how the real world works. There is no fancy frilly civilization for him. It's all an mirage, and he knows it. He knows that he can shoot you in the face, and God will not strike him down.

Some may relate this concept to primitivism but it's really more about the nature of man. The Veil is one of the gifts our Lord has given us to seperate ourselves from the beasts, but should we choose to lift it, we, without fail, become more beastly.

Vox will often write about combat dojo's. This is also related to the Veil. You don't just learn to take a punch. You have to learn to release what aggression is within you. Someone who's never been in a serious fight will hesitate. A veteran fighter will simply wade in and throw a punch. He's seen this side of humanity, and it doesn't scare him.

If you hate Hemingway, then consider this, and then look back on his writing. Consider it as well when you think of The Heart of Darkness by Conrad.

Civilization is a made up set of rules set to limit the strong and protect the weak. It's critical to remember that to some people, there is no Veil. There is no conscience. You must never assume your opponent will hesitate, because he might not, and then you are lost.

First Firearm II

I thought I would take the time to organize our thoughts on this topic to make it easier for you cats to follow. I'll provide a little background on each person, and sumise his point as best I can. You can make your own decisions. Boys, if I get it wrong, I have faith that you'll let me know in the comments section.

Resispa: This cat knows his shit about just about everything you can think of. If you want to talk theologic method, or austrian economics, he can roll. He tends to be conservative on learning with a firearm, and there ain't nothing wrong with it. He suggests ya learn on a .22, because the weapon is so easy to shoot, and the economically friendly ammo is condusive to more range time.

Bane: When all the fightin' is about over in the Third American Revolution, I don't know who's gonna be left, but I am confident of one thing: Bane will be one of the last ones shootin'. This S.O.B. is just to damned mean to die by some boot lickin' stormtrooper. Bane's position is pretty much the opposite of Resispa's. He says, go buy a badass 1911, and practice with it till you master it.

Bill: This is one cagey old bastard. If you think you know where he's comin' from, you may consider looking the opposite way just in case. If he shoots like he posts, he may be the shoot first, ask questions later type, but that's ok with me anyway. Bill's got years of experience with all kinds of weapons. He says go for a Ruger wheel-gun in .357. You can practice with cheap .38 special rounds, and carry the big boy .357 mags out with you.

You saw my recomendations based on price in the post below this. I'll add to it this: If you like Resispa's plan, I say buy a weapon that allows the purchase of an conversion kit to .22. You can switch back and forth between .22 and the native caliber of the weapon in literally seconds. The conversion kits usually run $99.00, and the weapons that have this option tend to be in the $400.00 range.

If you pay attention though you'll notice something we all agree on. Get you but to the range. I recommend 100 rounds per week at a minimum.
Kids and Firearms

There is a disturbing trend among women that has them forbiding firearms in their homes. I'm hearing more and more of this. This is typical female reasoning. They figger if they ignore guns, that guns will suddenly siese to exist throught out the rest of the world.

Worse still are the legal aspects of these female fears. All it takes is a story about a kid shooting himself, and damned near every woman in America will piss themselves and start talking about new laws.

So what to do?

Despite what your wife might think, the keeping your kids away from guns, is about the worst thing you can do. Let me relate a personal story, but one that is repeated every day all over America:

My sister-in-law was having a birthday party in a cabin with many of her friends. Some of the kids were up in the loft talking and playing games. A 16 year old boy found a sawed-off shotgun, that no one, including the cabin owner had ever seen before. The kid pointed the gun at my sister-in-law and pulled the trigger. He didn't know if it was loaded or not. He later said it was the first time he'd ever even seen a real gun.

Well the gun was loaded, and the gun went bang. Now I don't know what made the former owner of that gun put a slug in a sawed off shotgun. It makes no sense. But thank God he did, because that slug hit the wall in between my sister-in-law and her mom, missing both by inches. If that had been buckshot, they'd both be dead.

Now of course, everyone will scream that the gun should've been locked up. Bullshit. A 16 year old boy should never have been that stupid. Locks and safes will never prevent a determined child from getting through them. Proper training will however, prevent them from shooting themselves, or someone else.

These kids that shoot themselves or someone else on accident, are the kids of parents who believe they are protecting their kids by keeping them away from the gun. W R O N G. You are only making the child more curious. When you say, "Guns are dangerous." it doesn't register with a child. However, when that same child sees that gun fire, feels that shock, hears that boom, and sees that pumpkin down range turn to mush, well then you can bet your butt it registers.

My brother has 2 daughters, 6 and 9. These two girls were raised around guns the right way. If one of them sees a gun that's not locked up, they won't touch it. They'll go get their dad and let him handle it. They have handled firearms, and the older has her own .22.

Women. Listen up. The only way... Let me repeat that... The only way to get your child to understand how violent, and how dangerous guns are, is to expose them to guns.

You can lock up your own guns, but you can never be sure that someone else locked up theirs. The only way to prevent your child from playing with a gun, is to make sure that the curiousity is gone, and instill some healthy fear and respect for the damage that guns can do.

3 is to early, and 6 is probly to late.

Monday, April 19, 2004

First Gun

Our buddy Flannel Avenger is looking for his first gun. I believe its gonna be for concealed carry. I've already sent him my list of guns to check out, but I'll list it here for all to marvel at:

Economy guns:
Taurus Millenium: Comes in 9mm, 40, and 45. $325 to 400 depending.
Keltec P-40: No more than $285 is a good price. Simple, easy to conceal
CZ-100: Great firearm. Lots of cool features. Accurate. 9mm or .40. < $300

Budget Busters:
Khar: Lots of options here. Best triggers money can buy. Great guns.
Springfield XD: If you think you want a glock, buy this instead.
Walther P99: Maybe the most technologically advanced gun for under a grand. I lust for it.

Wheel Guns:
Taurus .357 total titanium: It has all the features of custom guns costing 3 times as much. You can fire .38 special rounds, or .357 rounds. It weighs less than a coke. It rocks. $450 or so.

Repeat after me: I will not buy a ruger auto. I will not buy a glock. I will not buy a single-action firearm until I have learned what I'm doing.

Ok boys. Your turn. Help our buddy out!
Biker Roll Call
If you have a motorcycle, had a motorcycle, lust for motorcycles, or lust for guys on motorcycles, I wanna hear from ya. No bitching over brands and types. We can do that another day. Just state who you are, and you have, had, or lust for. I know Bill and Gil are bike boys. Let's hear it.
Hey kids, can anyone tell me the exact federal upper income limit to be able to use a Roth IRA? I'm thinking if you make over 150k you aren't allowed. Can I get some verification?
I can't think of a subject line

The incomparable Resispa offers: "Since you dont believe the Bible to be authoritative, whats your gripe with gay pastors? You don't have a rational reason to reject their theology because you've already agreed that the Bible lacks authority to interpret man's actions and pass judgment on behavior. Since you advocate a position that the Bible is incomplete, how do you know Christ didnt support a pro gay position?

Nate you need to make a decision either the Bible is 100% authoritative in everything, or its not. If it is, you are responsible to obey it, if not you can't gripe about other people rejecting it too."

Christ did not come to end the law my friend. He came to fulfill it. What was an abomination, remains an abomination still. Such things the Bible is clear on. Some things are up for debate. Some things are not. For example, Christ was resurrected. You cannot be a Christian and honestly debate that. On the other hand, you can be a Christian and debate the physical make up communion once it is devoured.

It's a simple concept my friends. I don't argue the basics. I argue the advanced theology. Once you know that as flawed beings we are incapable of understanding God, then you quickly realize that all theology boils down to little more than mental masturbation.

Saying that I must accept the Bible literally to gain credibility is silly.

As long as we agree that 1+1=2 then we can agree that we're talking about math, and we can then go on to discuss meta-physics.

Disagreeing over meta-physics, and disagreeing over addition are two very different things.

If someone wants to make a serious intellectual arguement about the Bible and Theology, I will hear them out. Just like I will about advanced math, but if we're talking math, and you start with 1+1=5 then you can rest assured that I have just stopped listening.

There has to be some basis for the argument. I've read the statements of the pro-gay crowd. They are utterly bankrupt.
Nate's Library

I decided to put a list up of some representative authors and works that you'd find in my collection of books. Pretty bizzare group really. If I just list the author, it means that I have to many books to list.

Sci-fi/fantasy: Fred Saberhagen: The Berserker Novels. Roger Zelazny. Tolkien.

Modern: Neal Stephenson: The Crytonomicon. Stephen Hunter: Everything related to Bob the Nailer. Clancy. Stephen King: The Stand, The Last Gunfighter.

Western: L'Amour. Is there anyone else?

Classic: I have a collection of the 100 greatest works of all time. To many to list. But here are my favorites anyway. Faulkner. Hemingway. Conrad. JF Cooper. CS Lewis

Way more. Way way more.

This particular doctor, not my wife, had this patient in the I.C.U. It was an old guy who just plain didn't have any hope. He was aware, but paralyzed, and just being sustained on life support. There was no question in any one's mind that the man was suffering terribly. Every day the doctor would speak to the man's wife, and explain that he should be put on comfort care only and allowed to go in peace. Everyday the woman said the same thing.

"My husband is a fighter."

This went on for months.

Finally one day the doctor was eating lunch at the cafeteria in the hospital when he realized he was seated near the man's wife. She was eating with a friend, and he could easily overhear their conversation.

He heard the man's wife say, "They keep asking me to let him die, but I just tell them he's a fighter. Hell. That son of a bitch beat me every day of our marriage. I've got him by the balls now, and I'm gonna make him pay."

Sunday, April 18, 2004

Not One More Damned Inch

I am a member of the United Methodist Church. As such it pains me to talk about the recent events in the Pacific Northwest Conference. Before I delve into this to much, let me quote the UMC's Book of Discipline.

Paragraph 304.3: "While persons set apart by the Church for ordained ministry are subject to all the frailties of the human condition and the pressures of society, they are required to maintain the highest standards of holy living in the world. Since the practice of homosexuality is incompatible with Christian teaching, self-avowed practicing homosexuals are not to be accepted as candidates, ordained as ministers, or appointed to serve in the United Methodist Church."

Well that seems pretty clear to me. Unfortunately the people of the Pacific Northwest Conference don't seem to care what the Book of Discipline says. Like all good liberals, when the law doesn't fit their world view, they ignore it.

Karen Dammann, while on a leave of absence, sent a letter to her bishop stating that she is a self-avowed homosexual in a committed relationship with another woman with whom she has an adopted child. In her letter she stated she was living in a, "partnered, covenanted, homosexual relationship".

Charges were of course brought against her, and she was tried by a jury of her peers, according to the United Methodist Code.

The jury of her peers in the Pacific Northwest Conference concluded: "While sustaining that she is a self avowed homosexual, we, the trial court, do not find the evidnce presented to be clear and convincing that sh has engaged in any practices 'declared by the United Methodist Church to be incompatible with Christian teachings.' We cannot sustain the charge."

You see, when the liberals quote the same law they are ignoring, that's a problem.

We are at war. First the Presbys fought this fight. They didn't stop it. Next it was the Episcopaleans. They also failed to stop it. So now the fight comes to the UMC. I for one have seen enough. It's time for the Church to end this offensive. It's time for the Church to stand up and and shout, "YOU SHALL NOT PASS!"

The Church must not schism. The Church must not cower from the fight. The Church must amputate the infected parts of the body, so that it may get about the business of healing itself.

We have to be the ones to stop this, because if we fall, someone else will fall after us, and how can we not be held responsible then?

We must surrender no more.

I should point out that in spite of the verdict, Karen has been removed from the church she was previously mininstering to. She has not, and will not be assigned another church. This is something like firing someone by simply not hiring them to do any more work. It's more than I expected from the infected conference, but it is still cowardly in the utmost.

Them Jews got another one

God bless Israel. They blow a Hamas leader and his wheelchair into a billion little specks of smegma, and the world throws a tissy. In typical Arab fashion there are prophecies of Doom and howls for vengence. Of course, also in typical Arab fashion, there was no response. In fact, one would conclude that since the our handicapped friend was obliterated there had been a decline in terrorist activity. The Israeli leadership obviously concluded this was a good tactic, since it repeated it Saturday night. Nice.

Of course today we'll hear the usual suspects scream about murder, and lawless killing, and the woeful use of force.

If a tactic is effective, you bet your butt that the UN will hate it.

Here's hoping Dubya has enough balls to emulate the Israeli success.

Male Insecurity

Ever notice that when women do something to make themselves feel feminine, it's celebrated? Now contrast that with your idea of a man doing something, just to make himself feel masculine. What's the difference? Men don't ride motorcycles, or forge steal, or shoot guns because they enjoy those things. They do that because they are not secure enough in their own manhood. They are proving themselves.

Smell that? We have a word for that in the South. We call that bullshit.

Real men have become so rare that society is convinced that they don't actually exist. Men are really just women with slightly different parts right? Wrong.

We like violence. We like to break things. We like to fix things. We like to use fire and hammers to melt and shape steal. We like jets, and guns, and sportscars, and motorcycles. We like combustion in general. We like power tools. We like welding torches. We like a challenge, but we like grabbing that challenge by the throat and choking the life out of it more.

Men have become so feminized in general that society has decided that it's the norm. There must be therefore something wrong with those of us who are still masculine. Wrong. There's nothing wrong with us. We aren't insecure. We're just men. Get the hell over it.

Saturday, April 17, 2004


I took my first ride of 2004 yesterday afternoon. I have to say, I've been walking around with a shitty grin on my face ever since. After the back surgery, a micro-discectomy, on march 18 a ride was out of the question. Just as well because the weather in WV sucks until mid April anyway. Ah, but yesterday was perfect. It was 75 degrees, and not a cloud to be seen. About 1:00 my favorite ridin' buddy, Curt called me up, and I thought, "well, better to have someone around the first time I go out." 20 minutes later Curt showed up at my door on his ultra-bad Aprilia Mille R. Yeah Vox, the Italians do something right.

One of the things I love about motorcycles, and guns as well, is the ritual. You don't just hop on a bike and ride. Before you ride, you check the oil, check the chain tension, check the tire pressure. We call it the pre-flight check. Once that's done it's time to strap on the kevlar jacket, boots, pants.

Curt and I talk about the general direction we want to go (we never plan anything), then it's time for the last minute stuff, the important stuff. I knee by the bike and say a quick prayer, thanking God for the day, the freedom, and the joy. Then I strap on the helmet, checking the strap twice, put on the gloves and sunglasses, and mount up.

Good Lord what a day. I head out in front, and lead the way out of the twisty neighborhood roads. It's a slow muddle through traffic till we get to the good stuff, but it's ok because it's the first warm sunny day, and the girls aren't wearin' ... I mean... the scenery is excellent. We couldn't resist stopping by and harrassing one our riding buddies who was workin' on a day like this. He cussed us and spit, which to these guys means something like, "I love you guys, be safe, I wish I could go with ya."

Wasn't long after that we find ourselves at the last stop light in town. I love this light. It's like a get-outta-jail light. Once you're past it, there is nothing but twisty empty roads for miles. It's the gate to Heaven. I knew I was gonna take it easy, because the roads were still dirty and I was outta shape, so I told Curt not to wait on me. He didn't. Green light. We're gone.

The ride that followed was awesome. It took a little while for me to get back in the groove. The focus and situational awareness required for riding a bike is taxing. It's often compared to that of a fighter pilot. It's a mental and physical workout that's hard to compare with anything, other than perhaps a fight. I know its dangerous. I know my wife worries. I can't give it up though. I feel so close to God when I'm on that bike. I feel so alive.

I hope that you have something like this in your life. Something you can do to recharge your batteries, retrain your mind, and refocus your soul.

Next time I'll go into more detail on the good parts of the loop we took yesterday... but alas today is game day. I have preparations to make.

Friday, April 16, 2004

Redneck games

Given the headline I'm sure you are expecting a "hey yall, watch 'is" story. Not exactly. Don't worry though, you will not be disappointed.

It's about time for a huntin' story don't ya think?

So 4 ol' boys are out huntin'. Been out all day waitin' on deer. Now this is a complicated story to tell on account of there are so many things going on at the same time. So pay attention y'all, and I ain't typin' this again.

So like I was sayin' they had been out all day and decided to hook up together to get some grub before headin' back out near dusk. One of 'em hit the call button on the radio and they all heard it. 'bout 10 minutes later 3 of 'em met at the camp. 3. Hrmm... 1 short. Typical. Well they better go find him. And off they went.

Now we have to use a fancy 'litrary' tool here called a "flashback". See when that call button got pushed ole John heard it just like the other 3, and he commenced to headin to the camp. He had been huntin' a powerline and was headin' back along the border of the property they were huntin on. This is where the trouble started. On his way back John had a realization. The boy had to go, and well, it wasn't gonna wait until he made it to camp. You familiar with the euphermism "Prarie Doggin'"? Yup. John boy was in a bad bad way.

Now in these situations a man don't have a lot of options. The boy did what ya do. He dropped trou and squatted. Things were just about to get interesting when he lost his balance. By the grace of God, he looked up and there was a wire fence just within his reach, the boy grabbed it to steady himself.

Now its time for another litrary moment. This is where we skip ahead to when the other three find John. Keep up now!

So the other 3 boys are walking up a little grade, and once they top it, they see John. He's standing there near a fence, lookin' around like he lost somethin'. Well they walked over to see what the matter was, and to offer what help they could.

When John noticed 'em walkin up he hollered, "Hey! Watch your step!"

The boys made there way over to him and asked what was wrong.

John said, "Well y'all... I know I took a shit. I just don't know where I left it at. Oh and make damn sure you don't touch that fence."

It was about that time that one of the boys pointed over at a nearby tree and said something to the effect of, "Holy Shit!"

Sure enough. About 20 feet from where John had lost his balance there stood this tree, covered in John's expulsion.

The moral to this story, if you have to shit in the woods, don't steady yourself with an electric fence.
Modern Education, Female Engineers, and Lock Washers

Anyone who's ever worked in manufacturing knows that mechanics and engineers just don't like each other. This is a classic battle of someone who knows all the theory, and no application, versus someone who knows tons of application, but no theory. You have tension because the engineers are constantly pushed to make the machines run better, and the mechanics who know that have worked on the same machines for decades, who have seen 10 different engineers try 50 different new ideas, that have all resulted in massive down time.

Generous Electric has a plant in Lexington Kentucky. Like most plants the mechanics there are a surely lot who spend most of their time watching machines work properly, and a small amount of time bitching about engineers. A new female engineer had recently been hired, fresh out of UK. Wet-behind-the-ears would be to kind a description. Like virtually all female professionals her first goal was not to avoid screwing up until she could learn the ropes, it was to show her co-workers that she wasn't gonna take any shit. I'm sure large universities have a course in this. Bitch 201.

Now you should know that each mechanic at this particular plant has a standard tool box, that they keep in order and maintain. Mechanics tend to be proud, and touchy about their toolboxes, so be warned. Anyway, in true bitch fashion our hero took it upon herself to walk around and inspect the various tool boxes of the mechanics.

She walked up to one old curmudgen's box, opened a drawer, and said something that was just to good to be true. She said, "What is this garbage? All of these washers are broken! Why are you keeping broken washers in your toolbox?"

He smiled and said, "Because I happen to like broken washers. Why don't you write me up for that? In fact, I dare you to write me up for it. You ain't got the guts."

So... of course... she wrote him up for having "Broken Washers" in his tool box.

The GE plant in Lexington Kentucky doesn't hire graduates of the UK department of engineering anymore. And as for the girl, well, no one knows if that girl has ever taken the time to learn what a lockwasher is.

Thursday, April 15, 2004

Contest Time

Ok. I've unfolded a few yarns, now it's your turn. Credit to my fellow VRNPF founder Resispa for this one though. Those who will, email me a freakish, bizarre, or otherwise entertaining story. Those containing un-PC asspects, violence against the French, or the brutal mocking of homosexual midgets will get my special affirmative action treatment. Any story that porports to be true, which contains all 3 aspects will be immediately declared the victor and the authors name will be immortalized in song. I will post the most amusing tales here at the blog, and I will think up some grand prize for the one deemed the best, most likely a case of moonpies.

So let's see'em boys and girls. write 'em up and email 'em. Somebody tell the White Buffalo. Between him and Spacebunny, we should come up with some GREAT dirt on Vox. And let's face it, finding someway to antagonize Vox is always key.
We love the Bobs

Resispa wants to talk about bug out bags (BoB) and well, I it's one of my favorite things to chit chat about too. Who am I to say no?

First of all I reckon a lot of you have no idea what a BoB is. It's a bag you stock and maintain, in case of an emergency. If something bad happens, you don't want to have to think. The best way to describe it is in terms of a disaster. You're sittin' around the house on a saturday, and all the sudden the news breaks in. The shit is going down in your town in say... 2 hours... Bomb, Meteor, Hillary Clinton book signing, you know, real wrath of God type stuff. What do you do? You have to get out, but what do you take? If you're like me and Resispa, you grab your BoB and hit the backroads out of dodge.

Ok.. So what do you need in a BoB? That's going to be different for everyone. It starts with your plan, and where you want to go, and how long it will take you to get there, or to get somewhere that you can safely live or at least resupply. For most of us, that's gonna be at least 48 hours. But I'm a freak, so I have more in mine. Everyone's BoB is different, and there is no right or wrong things but there are some basic things that everyone needs. So let's cover some of those, and then I'll list some of the fun stuff I have and why. I love this by the way. I love talkin' about BoB's and hearin' what other people put in theirs.

Anyway, on to the basics! I'll list each item, and beside it I'll put what is in my Bob.

1. Water (2 gallons, much purification equipment)
2. Food for meals (24 MRE's stored in truck, 6 in Bob)
3. Knife and multi-tool. Notice I said both. Not one or the other. (Kabar,leatherman wave)
4. Small hatchet.
5. Compass. GPS rocks, but never depend on it alone. Carry a compass too. (compass, and a GPS.)
6. Meat Gun. something light and compact to get a dear with. (savage model 99 .308)
7. Sidearm. (Taurus PT-101, Keltec P-40, Taurus Tracker .357)
8. Firstaid.
9. Toilet paper, girls' stuff, hygeine stuffs
10. Ammo. (40 rounds for each weapon)
11. Batteries
12. 2 flashlights
13. Shelter (2 room quick up tent)
14. Firestarters

Ok.. The boy wants to play. I'll write some more later. I'm sure res and the boys will pick up where I left off, and no doubt chastize me for not including their most-favored-cannot-be-without do dad.

I'll write more on this later.

Wednesday, April 14, 2004

The Myth of Survival

We've all heard stories of the things people do to survive. We've heard about the guy who was pinned by a boulder out in the middle of no where, and cut his own arm off with a dull pocket knife to free himself, and walked to the nearest road. Some people just find a way to get out of trouble. Well... That's the myth.

People don't find a way out of trouble, they find a way into it. The key is not finding a way to luck your way out of a dangerous situation, the key is to not get into that situation in the first place. I can hear the girls yawning already. That's not good, because you kids are the ones I'm really talkin' to.

People put themselves in dangerous situations everyday needlessly. The key is to know when you are in a situation with potential danger, and take the necessary precautions. Enough with the mumbo-jumbo. Let's get specific. What should you be thinking and doing differently to avoid conflict and danger?

1) Be aware. Everyone has a built in sense of danger. You get an uneasy feeling in your stomach. Now in society we are taught often to ignore that. For example, a young woman was about to get into an elevator with 5 thug looking guys. She got that sick feeling, but she thought to herself, "Stop being such a racist, they are just people." She assumed that she felt uneasy because the guys were black. Now the specific case I am siting happened in Chicago, and the woman who got in the elevator ended up gangraped. But the important thing is not that she WAS a victim. The important thing is that she's NOT a racist! People, you too girls, when you get that feeling, pay attention to it.

2) Be prepared. This means you need to have some plans. Do you have fire escape ladders in your house? In every room? What's the plan if the house catches fire? Are you just playing it by ear or does everyone have a job? What if there is a public emergency like 9/11? Do you have a plan? Do you know how to contact your spouse or how to get to your kids? Roads will be conjested, people will be everywhere. What do you do? What about a car accident? Do you know what you are supposed to do, or do you panic, or find someone to take control of the situation for you? Storms, Power Outages, Break-ins, muggings and various other nasty things happen every day to people who never thought about them. This doesn't mean you need to be alarmist. It just means you should think about some things.

3) Don't be a volunteer. A wage sage once said, "There are no victims, only volunteers. You volunteer by looking weak and passive, like grass-eaters invariably are." If its a wild animal, or a creepy thug across the street, you show no fear. You walk deliberately. You hold yourself in a confident manner. Predators look for easy prey. Confident prey is rarely easy prey.

Now I'm not saying you should all carry firearms. But we do. And I'm not saying that you should have a bugout bag, and a get outta-dodge code word, but we do. I'm not even saying you should have escape ladders and fire plans. But we do.

All I am saying is, it's a dangerous world, and the best way of getting out of trouble, is not gettin' into it in the first place.
Myths and Facts
Scott writes: Epidurals are risky. There are complications. Granted, the risk is small, but it is real. I know one person who suffered a stroke because of one, and there are worse stories involving paralysis.

I'm not calling Scott out here. He's just repeating what he's been told, and what he may have read. It's time somebody set the record straight though. Have I not mentioned what kind of Dr, Dr Who is?
Oh... my bad... She's an anesthesiologist. This is what she does for a living. Even though I already knew the answers, I asked her about the fears that Scott brings up. She said, "Umm. I have never heard anyone even discuss the possibility of those things." To be fair though she went and looked up the two subjects Scott addressed on Pubmed. Now if you don't know what Pubmed is, it's like Google for medical research. Every case study ever done is there.

What did she find? On Strokes caused by an Epidural she found nothing. No one has ever done a case study on such a thing, so basicly, there is no scientific evidence that it has ever happened. On longterm paralysis related to an epidural, there is 1 case. One. Uno. It happened in 1990. There was sub-dural hemotoma that they failed to diagnose and treat, and that eventually resulted in temporary paralysis.

To be blunt, the circumstances discribed by Scott, do not happen. The main problem here is communication. Doctors suck at communicating, and that's how you end up with these myths. People either don't understand the doctor, or they just think he's lieing, and they formulate their own theories. Epidurals involve the spine, so paralysis must be risk right? No. Not at all.

So, what are the real risks?

1) You can get a wet-tap. A wet tap basicly means they went to deep with the needle and went past the epidural space. That means they puncture the dura, and spinal fluid escapes causing the nastyiest headache you can imagine. That happened to Julie when she got her epidural. It hurts, but it's positional, and it goes away quickly. Caffine fixed her just fine.

2) Longer Labor. Many OB's swear by this, but there isn't any real scientific evidence to back it up. If administered correctly, a woman can get up and walk around while she has an epidural. That is actually the name of it. "The Walking Epidural"

3) No Pain Relief. This is a problem because women don't understand how it works. They go in with unreasonable expectations. The epidural cannot take away the pressure, only the pain. Another big issue is women try to tough it out, and they end up asking for an epidural when it's too late. If you are already in severe pain, and you are worn out and exhausted, the epidural is gonna leave you unimpressed.

4) There is no scientific evidence that epidurals lead to longer labors. The few studies done that make the claim are biased because the patient population they are using is flawed. Its impossible to get a control group.

5) The Drugs get to the Baby. This is just wrong. In fact the very reason they came up with epidurals was to prevent that from happening. The drugs are injected in the epidural space surrounding the spinal column. The drugs never enter the bloodstream, and therefore never reach the baby. Unlike the intravenous analgesia some folks have mentioned.

To sum up, there are thousands upon thousands of epidurals given everyday all over the country. It is one of the safest procedures you can have done. First time mom's should get one, and get them early on. Don't try to tough it out. Many women fall asleep with their epidurals, while they are having nasty contractions. That's kinda the point. You're gonna be sleep deprived for the next 4 weeks. You may as well get some while you can.

Do What?

Astrosmith writes: I can't believe that it was only in recent years that fathers were allowed to be in the delivery room. I've been there all three times and it was great.

Let's be clear on this. The Delivery room ain't no place for a man. Nothing beautiful happens there. It's all pain and ugliness. Daddy's place is nervously pacing back and forth in the waiting room, smoking and sneaking the occasional nip from the flask his father wisely advised him to bring. Now look, I've been in there people. I've seen it. I love my wife, and my son more than life itself, and it doesn't mean I love them any less when I say that ain't no place for me. So boys listen up, you best be prepared.

Now for some reason modern women have decided that they need us, and if we don't subject ourselves to this, we don't love them. Never mind that if you talk to the old women about this stuff you'll hear things like, "I can't imagine why a woman would want her husband to see her like that." All husband's do is get in the way in there. They give the nurses someone else they have to worry about. You wouldn't believe how many dad's passout in that room. Hell I never would've made it if I hadn't had been sneakin' off to the bathroom to get a nip o' the good stuff.

I was in that place because my wife said she needed me. I did it once. That's my duty. If has a c-section, I'll go in there for that, otherwise... You'll find me pacin' and sippin' in the waiting room. Which is exactly where we all should be. The first time a man sees the child his wife bore for him, the wife and the child, should get the honor of being as presentable as possible. What ever happened to dignity?
The kid in the pictures

Ya know everyone thinks their kid is the cutest. The thing is, someone has to be right, and well, clearly that someone is me. All I can say is, it's a good thing he looks like his mama. If you look close at the laptop picture you can just barely see the outline of the badgers from I've found that kids under the age of 2 love it. Well, and so do some adults... Vox.
The Stink Don't Know No Color

I don't want to turn this blog into some one dimensional place where I post my rediculous adventures. No wait.. I do... I really do.. so here's another.

It's documented irrefutable fact that everyone who works in a building with elevators believes them to be the slowest elevators in all the world. Well, when I worked at WVU Hospital, I can honestly say, that I was right. Now it should be noted that I hate elevators, and that hatred is directly related to the fact that I basicly hate people in general, and I specificly hate people who are in the elevator with me.

So this one particular day I get on one of the damnable things. It was full. There were several women going to work, and some serious backwoods redneck at the back, looking uncomfortable as hell. I liked him. Of course, because I'm me, and this stuff only happens to me, at the first stop three camel-jockeys got on. I'm sure none of the cat's had bathed since the 7 day ass-whippin'.

As you can well imagine folks were a might uncomfortable, but then from the back of the elevator I the most welcome southern accent:

"Well by God I know one thing, somebody needs to get some deoderant and figger out just where the hell it goes."

Now one of the girls must've dropped something important, cause every woman on the elevator started shufflin' their feet and staring at the floor. It was about this time that the elevator stopped again. What a coinsidence. All those chicks needed off at that same time! Figger that! Well a whole knew pile of chicks got on and the door closed. This was when one of the Camel-Jockeys looks back and says:

"Stupid Americans. You think because you put chemicals all over your bodies you are clean. This is the body's clean and natural state. It is you that are filthy."

Whoa there. No damned way I'm gonna let that go.

"Did you just say stupid americans? Funny that you chose to come to see these stupid americans when you wanted an education. I wonder why these stupid americans ain't beatin' down the doors of the University of Quatar? Well Hell that's easy though ain't it. I mean you're idea of Political Science is teachin' impressionable young boys how to better influence Isreali politics by way of vest bombs."

One of these new girls must've dropped something too, cause they were all lookin' at their feet like the last bunch, and this time two of the camel-jockey's had joined them. But then the clincher came. In that same southern accent I hear:

"Well... I don't know what he just said.. but... If that's clean and natural, then clean and natural smells a whole lot like ass."

I thought I was gonna piss myself. God intervened here, and the doors opened and everyone poured off but me and the redneck. Once the doors closed he looked at me and smiled and said,

"Ya know... They prolly ain't gonna let us ride no more elevators together."

Looking back, the most memorable part of that whole episode was the blatant fear in all three arab's eyes. Even the one who spoke up only did so in bravado. Cowards.

Tuesday, April 13, 2004


Ok... Game Time minus 1 hour. I know this is gonna shock the hell outta some of ya, but this God Fearin' Redneck loves hockey. Tonight's game 4. Predators vs The Hated Detroit Red Wings. The game is in Nashville. Televised on ESPN at 7:30. Even if you hate hockey, it may be worth it to pop on just to see the crowd. By far the rowdiest crowd in the NHL. There will a "You Suck" chant of some form or another the whole game. I hope they show the intro's of the Hated Detroit Red Wings (THDRW). After each name is announced the whole crowd yells "Sucks!"

"Starting at Forward for Detroit, Chris Chelios"

S U C K S !!!!
I know somebody else who needs a drink

Kristy writes: I'm waiting for you to share the infamous Mark Bible story. I think others would appreciate it as well.

So be it. This one ain't for the kiddies people.

I attended a small state college in Tennessee. TTU to be specific. I lived the typical dorm life, with all the standard horrors for about two years. This is the tale of one such horror. Down the hall from me lived a kid, inappropriately named Mark Bible. Now Mark was a sick cat, one of those pasty, fat, pimple-faced dorks. I'm sure you've met people like him. Frequently strange sounds would be heard coming from his room, and one of my group of friends would be sent to investigate. On the night in question... The turn was mine.

So, I approach the room and find the door standing open and against my better judgement, I walked inside. Therein I find mark and his roomate, seated on lawnchairs watching porn. They were naked. Did you catch that? Naked. As in nude. Not clothed. On marks right side was a 6-pack of Zima, and clearly they were both hammered. I'm sitting here taking this terrible vision in, when Mark looks over at his roomate's lap and says, "Wo! Somebody's a little excited!"


He did it. He actually did it. Mark took his open palm, and smacked his roommate's semi-erect manhood. The boy fell from his chair and squalled like a girl. I was sick.

The tale would be bad enough if it ended here, but sadly it doesn't. After his horrible offense, Mark simply returned to his seat and resumed watching the porn. He took a sip of a Zima, and then it happened. He looked in his own lap, and said, "Ya know.. I think someone else needs a drink."

He then put his... his.... dick... inside the opening of the Zima, and tipped it up, as if his pecker were drinking. He then removed himself from the Zima, and finished it off.

I left. No one believed me. I doubt anyone believes me now.
If It Just Saves One Life

I'm so sick of hearing that phrase. Every time some bleeding heart uses it I want to reach through the television or radio and choke the life out of them. You see to a liberal that phrase can be used to make anything instantly worthy. After all, who is in favor of death? No no, I mean besides the National Organization of Women. Let's look at what this statement has brought us:

1) In the state of West Virginia, it is illegal for an adult to ride a bicycle without a helmet.

On second thought, that's enough right there. If seeing that stupidity doesn't make your blood boil, then you're about as dumb as a bag of hammers.

Monday, April 12, 2004

Where would we be?

I told a friend that I believe the Confederacy is a legal country, currently being occupied by an illegal invasion force. Now this cat is from Nebraska, so he really has no dog in the fight. He was just suprised. I think he thought I was just bs'ing him. Finally he said, "Where would you be without the US?" "What would you do differently?"

Well duh. As for where we'd be, we'd have the 3rd largest economy in the world. So I'd say we'd be just fine. As for what we'd do, well we'd first tie the government beast to the nearest fence, slice open it's scrotum and tear it's testicals out from the root. We figure that should keep him tame for a while at least. As for specifics, well how about eliminating all import and export tarrifs? That would be fun. We could all laugh while every boat that came to the west docked at New Orleans, and the Yankee harbors fell to ruin.

Sounds like a good start to me.
Stupid Bovines

I used to work for the anesthesia department of a hospital in West Virgina. I remember one day as I was walking up the stairs to work, I came upon a herd of 4 or 5 black girls. These were not little women mind you.

Now the trouble is these girls were standing in a tight cluster, blocking the double doors that I needed to pass through to get to my office. Another fella was also needing to get through. I tapped the girl closest to me on the shoulder and said, "Ma'am, pardon me, but I need to get by."

The girl slowly turned her head to look at me, then slowly turned her head back and continued gossiping, as if I was some insignificant annoyance.

I tapped again, "Ma'am. We need to get to work. Can you please let us through?"

She again turned, in the lazy, arrogant manner, and again turned back. Saying to her friends, "Can you believe this?" while pointing to me over her shoulder.

Now I was through being polite. So I leaned close and said very loudly,

"Maybe I need to speak in a language you bovines can understand! MOOOOOOOOOOOVE!"

At that they scattered. Shuffling about like startled cattle, knowing they need to move, but not understanding why.

We got through the door, the other guy looked over at me and promptly died laughing.