Thursday, April 30, 2009
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Guns of Brixton - Nouvelle Vague
direct link
When they kick out your front door
How you gonna come?
With your hands on your head
Or on the trigger of your gun
When the law break in
How you gonna go?
Shot down on the pavement
Or waiting in death row
You can crush us
You can bruise us
But you'll have to answer to
Oh, Guns of Brixton
The money feels good
And your life you like it well
But surely your time will come
As in heaven, as in hell
You see, he feels like Ivan
BORN under the Brixton sun
His game is called survivin'
At the end of the harder they come
You know it means no mercy
They caught him with a gun
No need for the Black Maria
Goodbye to the Brixton sun
You can crush us
You can bruise us
But you'll have to answer to
Oh-the guns of Brixton
When they kick out your front door
How you gonna come?
With your hands on your head
Or on the trigger of your gun
You can crush us
You can bruise us
And even shoot us
But oh- the guns of Brixton
Shot down on the pavement
Waiting in death row
His game was survivin'
As in heaven as in hell
You can crush us
You can bruise us
But you'll have to answer to
Oh, the guns of Brixton
Oh, the guns of Brixton
Oh, the guns of Brixton
Oh, the guns of Brixton
Oh, the guns of Brixton
Hat Tip to JD
Specter switches teams?
Say it ain't so!
I'm sure the Republican party is reeling. I mean, with Specter being such a severe RINO, he was probably top of the list of Republican Party nominees for 2012.
I'm sure the Republican party is reeling. I mean, with Specter being such a severe RINO, he was probably top of the list of Republican Party nominees for 2012.
So how long till a swine flu bailout?
CNN is on in the NOC (pretty much as a joke), and they just showed a computer simulation of a man sneezing. I'm waiting for further instructions on how best I can FREAK THE FUCK OUT!!!11 The W.H.O. has escalated the pandemic alert to five out of six, making this danger to humanity one arbitrary numerical representation away from TEOTWAWKI.
In other news the American swine flu deathtoll is still hovering around the treacherous figure of 1.
In other news the American swine flu deathtoll is still hovering around the treacherous figure of 1.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Swine what?
Ok, so, in Idaho, there was almost no cell reception, and barely internet access, so in the 6 days I was gone, they invented a new thing for me to be afraid of?
What is swine flu, and why should I overreact to it like everyone is telling me to?
What is swine flu, and why should I overreact to it like everyone is telling me to?
I have returned!
We somehow survived the 20 hour drive home, and I'm at work now waiting for my brain to abruptly shut off.
Posting later.
Maintaining upright orientation now.
Posting later.
Maintaining upright orientation now.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Shoot rabbits?! You mean like... with-- GUNS?!
Mission Viejo gives go-ahead to shoot rabbits in Casta del Sol
Packed into a collection of items, this extension of a previously approved item allowed the continued elimination of rabbits in certain areas using air rifles.
I have a pet rabbit, and would certainly not want anyone to shoot her with an air rifle. *ET pauses for a moment to think of what he would do to a someone who would dare shoot his pet rabbit. Scratch that; what he wouldn't do* But these rabbits are a nuisance. They're destroying property. They should be treated as you would a wild dog.
Yet, the comments are full of people who are concerned about the "bad karma" of killing these poor little fuzzy friendlytroublesome animals.
I mean; how could people possibly prefer hiring trappers to trap the rabbits, sedate them, medically transport them to veterinary clinics where they can get surgery to prevent them from breeding, transport them back to the trapping area, and released for the mere cost of thousands of taxpayer dollars per rabbit; when there are qualified hunters who would PAY for the opportunity?
Is this madness?!
No.
This is California!
Packed into a collection of items, this extension of a previously approved item allowed the continued elimination of rabbits in certain areas using air rifles.
I have a pet rabbit, and would certainly not want anyone to shoot her with an air rifle. *ET pauses for a moment to think of what he would do to a someone who would dare shoot his pet rabbit. Scratch that; what he wouldn't do* But these rabbits are a nuisance. They're destroying property. They should be treated as you would a wild dog.
Yet, the comments are full of people who are concerned about the "bad karma" of killing these poor little fuzzy friendly
I mean; how could people possibly prefer hiring trappers to trap the rabbits, sedate them, medically transport them to veterinary clinics where they can get surgery to prevent them from breeding, transport them back to the trapping area, and released for the mere cost of thousands of taxpayer dollars per rabbit; when there are qualified hunters who would PAY for the opportunity?
Is this madness?!
No.
This is California!
Quote of the Tea Party Protests
The people at the tax protests were people the government needs. Not people who need the government.
~Mike
Too true, Mike. Too true.
Tax protest signs that didn't make the cut
I didn't sign your mortgage!
Taxpayers against Taxtakers
Stop TAKING it or I'll stop MAKING it!
Bailout FAILout
Vote them all out. God will know his own.
Good news everyone!
The War on Drugs was been going so well, that the price of Cocaine is going down!
That's what happens when something is hard to find, right? The price goes down?
Oh wait...
Well, maybe it's because people aren't doing cocaine anymore. Yeah, that's probably it.
At least I didn't have to deliver this news with the death of another innocent bystander in the war on drugs! So, it could have been worse.
Instead of another dead innocent, we're only throwing billions down a bottomless pit, with nothing to show for it but small fries living off more taxpayer money, and an availability of illegal drugs that has never so much as stopped to catch its breath!
Whew!
That was a close one.
That's what happens when something is hard to find, right? The price goes down?
Oh wait...
Well, maybe it's because people aren't doing cocaine anymore. Yeah, that's probably it.
At least I didn't have to deliver this news with the death of another innocent bystander in the war on drugs! So, it could have been worse.
Instead of another dead innocent, we're only throwing billions down a bottomless pit, with nothing to show for it but small fries living off more taxpayer money, and an availability of illegal drugs that has never so much as stopped to catch its breath!
Whew!
That was a close one.
Friday, April 17, 2009
Notes from the Tea Party
I had my handmade sign, labeled "LET THEM FAIL" on one side and "RESET CONGRESS VOTE THEM ALL OUT" on the other. I figured the "reset congress" side would be better received, but more people liked the "Let them fail" side than the other. Lots of posing for pictures, though I have yet to see any floating around google or flickr. :) I wore my Appleseed shirt, and my "Unorganized Militia Propaganda Corps" hat.
There were lots people with cameras and camcorders, though I only saw one set of professional media kit, not being handled by a professional media outlet. The only news van I saw there was telemundo, and I'm pretty sure they were covering something else. I guess people wanted to get lots of proof that it happened, because they knew it wasn't going to get covered.
It was really windy, and signs were hard to keep in one place, but people didn't put them down.
Talked to an LA Times reporter (one guy running around with a notepad and pen, not even a camera), who wanted to me explain my "Let them fail" sign. Somehow, everyone else there understood exactly what I was talking about... He took down my name, age, and occupation, asking repeatedly whether or not I was self employed. "So, you don't support any of the bailouts?" "I supported helping out the banks initially, because that was a real threat to our banking system, but these repeated big three bailouts, and insurance company bailouts are nonsense." "Oh. Ok." I guess I shouldn't be surprised he didn't use my quote. Oh yeah, he also had to ask me what my Appleseed shirt was, "It's a marksmanship training program." [reporter exulent right] I wonder if he noticed my hat...
The counts I heard put the total crowd at around 5000.
I know I don't really have to mention this; but there were a lot of "excuse me"s and "may I take your picture?"s
We ran into one counter-protester with a sign that said "Where were U when Bush was spending?" There was a woman arguing with him for some reason. I tried to ask him who he worked for, so I could ask him if he wanted his boss to have more money or less, but surprise, surprise, he worked for the highly over funded, and highly under performing school district. Shocker... Oh yeah, he also was insisting that his girlfriend made 80k a year, and paid 4k in taxes. Either someone's lying to him, or he's lying to himself.
It kind of bugged us that the event organizers used the common lefty tactic; putting a 10 year old in front of a microphone, and getting him to say, "X makes me sad!" Awwwwww... Nonsense.
It was a lot of fun to be there with like-minded people. It was a good feeling.
There were lots people with cameras and camcorders, though I only saw one set of professional media kit, not being handled by a professional media outlet. The only news van I saw there was telemundo, and I'm pretty sure they were covering something else. I guess people wanted to get lots of proof that it happened, because they knew it wasn't going to get covered.
It was really windy, and signs were hard to keep in one place, but people didn't put them down.
Talked to an LA Times reporter (one guy running around with a notepad and pen, not even a camera), who wanted to me explain my "Let them fail" sign. Somehow, everyone else there understood exactly what I was talking about... He took down my name, age, and occupation, asking repeatedly whether or not I was self employed. "So, you don't support any of the bailouts?" "I supported helping out the banks initially, because that was a real threat to our banking system, but these repeated big three bailouts, and insurance company bailouts are nonsense." "Oh. Ok." I guess I shouldn't be surprised he didn't use my quote. Oh yeah, he also had to ask me what my Appleseed shirt was, "It's a marksmanship training program." [reporter exulent right] I wonder if he noticed my hat...
The counts I heard put the total crowd at around 5000.
I know I don't really have to mention this; but there were a lot of "excuse me"s and "may I take your picture?"s
We ran into one counter-protester with a sign that said "Where were U when Bush was spending?" There was a woman arguing with him for some reason. I tried to ask him who he worked for, so I could ask him if he wanted his boss to have more money or less, but surprise, surprise, he worked for the highly over funded, and highly under performing school district. Shocker... Oh yeah, he also was insisting that his girlfriend made 80k a year, and paid 4k in taxes. Either someone's lying to him, or he's lying to himself.
It kind of bugged us that the event organizers used the common lefty tactic; putting a 10 year old in front of a microphone, and getting him to say, "X makes me sad!" Awwwwww... Nonsense.
It was a lot of fun to be there with like-minded people. It was a good feeling.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Quotes of the straight-shootin' liberals
Tam presents a post titled I've seen the future, brother, and it is nutbar which includes the comment left by someone who claims to be a liberal gun owner who can shoot straight.
I really can't reproduce it here. It's just that nutty.
Seriously, the disassociation from reality is so terminal, he probably posted it from another dimension.
Go give it a read, and if you don't quite get it, read the comments.
Which leads us to the quotes of the day...
You can't argue with results, and Joe delivers results at a few thousand feet per second.
Ouch.
Logistics win wars.
There are plenty more, I recommend you give them a read.
My derision is, of course, not meant to suggest there are absolutely no gun owning liberals who can shoot straight. I'm just saying that a liberal who does own a gun, can hit a man-sized target to 500 yards, and has the willingness to use it against civilian political opponents, would be something of a black swan.
Liberals, by nature, are submissive to force, and lack the personal responsibility to actually do something for themselves when they could just as easily call a phone number, and ask someone else to do it for them.
BUT! The notion that these gun owning, straight shooting, "progressive revolution" fighting liberals out-number, out-shoot,or AND out-think their conservative counterparts is so funny that I forgot to hit the bolt release.
I really can't reproduce it here. It's just that nutty.
Seriously, the disassociation from reality is so terminal, he probably posted it from another dimension.
Go give it a read, and if you don't quite get it, read the comments.
Which leads us to the quotes of the day...
"Balding" and "middle-aged" fits. I'm not so sure "fat" or "loser" does. And when I can get first round hits from 1000 yards away I don't think they are going to care about the number of hairs on my head or the number of candles on my birthday cake.
~Joe Huffman
You can't argue with results, and Joe delivers results at a few thousand feet per second.
Progressive Statists doing their own dirty work. Ha ha! I have a better chance of seeing my taxes cut by fifty percent.
Face it "progressives", we control the purse and we have people who can pay their own medical bills, pay for their own homes, and manufacture their own ammunition. You have people who call 911 because McDonalds is out of Chicken McNuggets. You're fucked.
~TJP
Ouch.
Spaz might be well advised to look at a map showing the county by county election results. He should then ponder two things: The demographics of our modern all-volunteer military and where all the food comes from. Logistics will beat [them] every time.
~Cybrludite
Logistics win wars.
There are plenty more, I recommend you give them a read.
My derision is, of course, not meant to suggest there are absolutely no gun owning liberals who can shoot straight. I'm just saying that a liberal who does own a gun, can hit a man-sized target to 500 yards, and has the willingness to use it against civilian political opponents, would be something of a black swan.
Liberals, by nature, are submissive to force, and lack the personal responsibility to actually do something for themselves when they could just as easily call a phone number, and ask someone else to do it for them.
BUT! The notion that these gun owning, straight shooting, "progressive revolution" fighting liberals out-number, out-shoot,
"Well, why don't you tell me why YOU'RE here?"
Idiotic CNN reporter gets set straight after her "random" interviews at the tea party.
But this didn't make the news, of course...
From StoutRepublican
But this didn't make the news, of course...
From StoutRepublican
Restraining Orders and Close Encounters
Tuesday morning I got a frantic call from my sister. I could barely understand her, but I knew it was something about mom, and she was very scared.
I excused myself from the breakfast with my family-to-be, and tore out of the parking lot to deal with my family-that-is. I normally drive aggressively, but this was very different. This was no holds barred, red-lined, getaway car driving. I stopped just short ofdangerous very dangerous, but my little neon surprised me. Even through it stank like burning rubber when I arrived, and the engine temperature was much higher than usual. There was no one besides my sister there.
Apparently mom called her, so she ignored the call and locked the doors. She continued on with her day, when mom showed up, pounding on the doors, windows, yelling at her, and trying to get in.
After I got there, I made sure no one was there, and she let me in. We reviewed the security cameras her husband installed after one of mom's previous visits. After mom pulled up, instead of going straight for the door, she entered the side gate, and checked the side door, then moved to the backyard, and checked the rear door. After finding them locked, she returned to the front, and attempted to enter the front door. The front door was locked too, and up until this point, she had done nothing to make her presence known. She had intended on walking straight into the house, where my sister was alone. After she couldn't get in, she started pounding and yelling, which was the first my sister had heard of her.
After seeing the footage, I realized it was time to make this official. My sister was very afraid of what would have happened had mom not called her first, prompting her to lock all the doors. We called the police.
Unfortunately, after describing the situation, there were no laws broken sufficiently (in conjunction with extenuating circumstances) to warrant a report. The officer made it clear that what we wanted was a domestic restraining order, so we could start building a case to make her stop. She told us where we could go to get the paperwork, and answered some of our questions about the process. The officer asked for a recent picture so she would know what mom looked like when she did the occasional drive-by. Emotionally, I was doing fine until then. I was helping my sister stay together while she explained the situation and the history to the officer, but seeing my old mom, smiling and happy just like I remembered, was too much. I teared up and excused myself. After the officer left, I knew we needed to do this, or we wouldn't do it later. We went to the courthouse to get the paperwork for a restraining order.
While standing in line to get past security at the courthouse, my sister suddenly went white, and started walking away quickly. I followed her, asking what the matter was, and she said mom was four people ahead of us in line. Today was a court date for the divorce.
We retreated to a nearby TGIFridays to regroup, eat, and talk about the situation. Only one part sticks out in my mind.
Sis: I mean; I know every family is dysfunctional in some way...
Me: Yeah... It just sucks to make it official.
An hour later, we went back.
Unfortunately, when we walked back, we forgot not to bring our pocket knives, so my sister waited just inside the building, next to the security checkpoint, with my knife and cell phone.
I talked to the receptionist, and got an idea of where I had to go. Strangely enough, when I entered the elevator, the tall white man in his 40s and the short asian girl who entered with me, were going to the same place. Maybe it's a full moon or something. Once on the correct floor, the signs were no help, and as I wandered, I was stopped just short of a hallway by the whistle my dad used when we were kids. I turned around and saw him in the other direction, standing next to a man in a suit, obviously his lawyer.
Me: Hey dad, where's mom?
Dad: You were just about to walk into her. She's right down that hall. We had court in the morning, then a recess, and we're picking it up in a little bit. What are you doing here?
Me: I need to file a restraining order. [to the lawyer] Do you know where this room number is?
Lawyer: Uh, well, for a, uh, is this a restraining order for a family member?
Me: Yeah.
Lawyer: Oh... Uhh... well... I-- hmmm... Oh, wait! It's right over here.
The lawyer leads me to a room around the corner that somehow escaped all the helpful signs in the main area. I approach the door.
Me: Thank you.
Lawyer: Oh, by the way, I'm your dad's lawyer.
Me: [without turning] I gathered that.
I don't particularly care for lawyers in general, but I really didn't like the lawyer my dad had been telling me about for the past few years. His lawyer.
I shook off the rudeness I used on the lawyer, and returned to my polite self before approaching the counter, and asking for the paperwork to get a domestic restraining order. After a short, rehearsed speech about what a restraining order is, what it does, and why it is in place, I was asked again if I wanted to proceed with the process. "Yes." This started a second rehearsed speech about the process, what to do for help with the process, what to do, when to do it, and what to expect. They actually have free early morning workshops to help people with the process. I thanked her and left.
Dad was still in the hall.
Dad: So, what happened with mom?
I give him a quick recap. He seems impassive.
Dad: I guess she went after the morning court.
Me: Yeah. [my sister] was really scared. I gotta go down to see her.
Downstairs, my sister was asked to leave the area inside the building (because she couldn't just stand there, in full sight of security!), and was waiting around a corner for me to come out. I told her what had happened, and dropped her off. She was feeling much better now.
I wasn't.
I took the day off and busied myself with video games and movies until I fell asleep.
I excused myself from the breakfast with my family-to-be, and tore out of the parking lot to deal with my family-that-is. I normally drive aggressively, but this was very different. This was no holds barred, red-lined, getaway car driving. I stopped just short of
Apparently mom called her, so she ignored the call and locked the doors. She continued on with her day, when mom showed up, pounding on the doors, windows, yelling at her, and trying to get in.
After I got there, I made sure no one was there, and she let me in. We reviewed the security cameras her husband installed after one of mom's previous visits. After mom pulled up, instead of going straight for the door, she entered the side gate, and checked the side door, then moved to the backyard, and checked the rear door. After finding them locked, she returned to the front, and attempted to enter the front door. The front door was locked too, and up until this point, she had done nothing to make her presence known. She had intended on walking straight into the house, where my sister was alone. After she couldn't get in, she started pounding and yelling, which was the first my sister had heard of her.
After seeing the footage, I realized it was time to make this official. My sister was very afraid of what would have happened had mom not called her first, prompting her to lock all the doors. We called the police.
Unfortunately, after describing the situation, there were no laws broken sufficiently (in conjunction with extenuating circumstances) to warrant a report. The officer made it clear that what we wanted was a domestic restraining order, so we could start building a case to make her stop. She told us where we could go to get the paperwork, and answered some of our questions about the process. The officer asked for a recent picture so she would know what mom looked like when she did the occasional drive-by. Emotionally, I was doing fine until then. I was helping my sister stay together while she explained the situation and the history to the officer, but seeing my old mom, smiling and happy just like I remembered, was too much. I teared up and excused myself. After the officer left, I knew we needed to do this, or we wouldn't do it later. We went to the courthouse to get the paperwork for a restraining order.
While standing in line to get past security at the courthouse, my sister suddenly went white, and started walking away quickly. I followed her, asking what the matter was, and she said mom was four people ahead of us in line. Today was a court date for the divorce.
We retreated to a nearby TGIFridays to regroup, eat, and talk about the situation. Only one part sticks out in my mind.
Sis: I mean; I know every family is dysfunctional in some way...
Me: Yeah... It just sucks to make it official.
An hour later, we went back.
Unfortunately, when we walked back, we forgot not to bring our pocket knives, so my sister waited just inside the building, next to the security checkpoint, with my knife and cell phone.
I talked to the receptionist, and got an idea of where I had to go. Strangely enough, when I entered the elevator, the tall white man in his 40s and the short asian girl who entered with me, were going to the same place. Maybe it's a full moon or something. Once on the correct floor, the signs were no help, and as I wandered, I was stopped just short of a hallway by the whistle my dad used when we were kids. I turned around and saw him in the other direction, standing next to a man in a suit, obviously his lawyer.
Me: Hey dad, where's mom?
Dad: You were just about to walk into her. She's right down that hall. We had court in the morning, then a recess, and we're picking it up in a little bit. What are you doing here?
Me: I need to file a restraining order. [to the lawyer] Do you know where this room number is?
Lawyer: Uh, well, for a, uh, is this a restraining order for a family member?
Me: Yeah.
Lawyer: Oh... Uhh... well... I-- hmmm... Oh, wait! It's right over here.
The lawyer leads me to a room around the corner that somehow escaped all the helpful signs in the main area. I approach the door.
Me: Thank you.
Lawyer: Oh, by the way, I'm your dad's lawyer.
Me: [without turning] I gathered that.
I don't particularly care for lawyers in general, but I really didn't like the lawyer my dad had been telling me about for the past few years. His lawyer.
I shook off the rudeness I used on the lawyer, and returned to my polite self before approaching the counter, and asking for the paperwork to get a domestic restraining order. After a short, rehearsed speech about what a restraining order is, what it does, and why it is in place, I was asked again if I wanted to proceed with the process. "Yes." This started a second rehearsed speech about the process, what to do for help with the process, what to do, when to do it, and what to expect. They actually have free early morning workshops to help people with the process. I thanked her and left.
Dad was still in the hall.
Dad: So, what happened with mom?
I give him a quick recap. He seems impassive.
Dad: I guess she went after the morning court.
Me: Yeah. [my sister] was really scared. I gotta go down to see her.
Downstairs, my sister was asked to leave the area inside the building (because she couldn't just stand there, in full sight of security!), and was waiting around a corner for me to come out. I told her what had happened, and dropped her off. She was feeling much better now.
I wasn't.
I took the day off and busied myself with video games and movies until I fell asleep.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Building a better mousetrap
After a previous bout of pest control, I was more confident when another mouse made its presence known.
I baited the trap just as I had before, with no success. No problem, I thought, he just got lucky this time, the odds are in my favor. I've got lots of peanut butter, and he's only got one life. A second failure lead me to inspect my trap a little more closely. Everything seemed to be in order. But by the third failure, I decided there was something wrong.
The problem was twofold. Firstly, the traps I was using were the ones with a fake cheese trigger plate, instead of the usual metal trigger plate with the extremely sensitive side mount for the trigger bar. The fake cheese trigger plate could only be activated with downward pressure. Secondly, this mouse was very adept at licking. Each time, the trigger plate had all the peanut butter carefully removed from every bait-filled hole. Top AND bottom.
Ah, evolution. This particular mouse prefers to carefully lick up non solid foods, instead of biting into the bait, and the trap plate, so it survives the common mouse trap to pass on its genes. Then here I come, wanting to kill it anyways.
Sorry buddy. I respect your struggle to survive and all, but the missus says you've got to go, and quite frankly, I can't have you prancing about my pantry. If you want to argue with me about survival of the fittest, I recommend you switch to meat, grow a bigger brain, and outsmart me.
After a bit of time examining the trap, I realized that instead of trying to work around the trap's deficiency, I should try to work with it. I needed to put the mouse in a position where it would apply downward pressure to the trigger plate. But to do that, I would need to build some kind of enclosure, in order to control the mouse's direction of travel, and I didn't want to make it complicated. I thought about a cardboard box of some kind, but couldn't think of one with the proper dimensions. It would need to be small, yet very tall to allow the trap arm to rotate. What box did I have that was small, yet tall?
The Winchester white box .38 special 100 pack!
After cutting off the flaps, I put some peanut butter all the way in the back of the trap, and sealed the rear flaps with tape to prevent the scent from encouraging it to try to chew through the cardboard in the back. Then I placed the trap in, backwards, so the mouse would have to walk over it in order to get to the bait. Since the box was wide enough to allow the mouse to walk around the trap, I taped one of the flaps back on to funnel the mouse over the trap.
The results speak for themselves.
Caught with damning evidence, still in his mouth.
He got an unceremonious burial in a KFC coleslaw container.
And the trap got replaced, after receiving a meritorious notch for a job well done.
I have to admit, I did feel a little sorry for this guy. Especially considering the manner in which the trap hit him. Breaking the lower back, and pinching the lower, less essential organs for a slow, uneasy death. Because of his position in the trap, it is obvious he entered the box, tripped the trap, then dragged himself forward to chow down on as much peanut butter as he could before he realized his intestines no longer worked. I wonder if he choked on an esophagus full of peanut butter before succumbing to his injuries.
I don't envy him.
Then again, death by peanut butter IS one of my favorite ways to go.
I baited the trap just as I had before, with no success. No problem, I thought, he just got lucky this time, the odds are in my favor. I've got lots of peanut butter, and he's only got one life. A second failure lead me to inspect my trap a little more closely. Everything seemed to be in order. But by the third failure, I decided there was something wrong.
The problem was twofold. Firstly, the traps I was using were the ones with a fake cheese trigger plate, instead of the usual metal trigger plate with the extremely sensitive side mount for the trigger bar. The fake cheese trigger plate could only be activated with downward pressure. Secondly, this mouse was very adept at licking. Each time, the trigger plate had all the peanut butter carefully removed from every bait-filled hole. Top AND bottom.
Ah, evolution. This particular mouse prefers to carefully lick up non solid foods, instead of biting into the bait, and the trap plate, so it survives the common mouse trap to pass on its genes. Then here I come, wanting to kill it anyways.
Sorry buddy. I respect your struggle to survive and all, but the missus says you've got to go, and quite frankly, I can't have you prancing about my pantry. If you want to argue with me about survival of the fittest, I recommend you switch to meat, grow a bigger brain, and outsmart me.
After a bit of time examining the trap, I realized that instead of trying to work around the trap's deficiency, I should try to work with it. I needed to put the mouse in a position where it would apply downward pressure to the trigger plate. But to do that, I would need to build some kind of enclosure, in order to control the mouse's direction of travel, and I didn't want to make it complicated. I thought about a cardboard box of some kind, but couldn't think of one with the proper dimensions. It would need to be small, yet very tall to allow the trap arm to rotate. What box did I have that was small, yet tall?
The Winchester white box .38 special 100 pack!
After cutting off the flaps, I put some peanut butter all the way in the back of the trap, and sealed the rear flaps with tape to prevent the scent from encouraging it to try to chew through the cardboard in the back. Then I placed the trap in, backwards, so the mouse would have to walk over it in order to get to the bait. Since the box was wide enough to allow the mouse to walk around the trap, I taped one of the flaps back on to funnel the mouse over the trap.
The results speak for themselves.
Caught with damning evidence, still in his mouth.
He got an unceremonious burial in a KFC coleslaw container.
And the trap got replaced, after receiving a meritorious notch for a job well done.
I have to admit, I did feel a little sorry for this guy. Especially considering the manner in which the trap hit him. Breaking the lower back, and pinching the lower, less essential organs for a slow, uneasy death. Because of his position in the trap, it is obvious he entered the box, tripped the trap, then dragged himself forward to chow down on as much peanut butter as he could before he realized his intestines no longer worked. I wonder if he choked on an esophagus full of peanut butter before succumbing to his injuries.
I don't envy him.
Then again, death by peanut butter IS one of my favorite ways to go.
Tea Parties a "Sham and a Fraud," still waiting on my wheelbarrows of cash.
At least according to this guy...
He has the cashews to compare what Obama has done to what Republicans have done in the past decade? CBO estimates show Obama increasing the deficit FOUR TIMES what Bush made it. Claiming Bush is as much to blame for this as Obama is shows how desperate they have become.
How long can Obama supporters hold out?
Keep in mind; we're still only THREE months into his presidency.
I'm reminded of how anti-gunners think pro-gun bloggers are shills for the NRA, and funded with wheelbarrows of cash, because why on Earth else could people spend their time and money supporting gun rights?
I'll be attending a local Tax Day Protest, not because I'm being brainwashed or paid or a Republo-bot, but because I'm pissed off. I'm pissed off about spending. I've BEEN pissed off about spending since Bush, the first president I supported. I don't think I'd be as pissed off if Obama spent another 500 billion, but 1.8 Trillion?! And I'm supposed to look to HIM for answers in this crisis?!
I guess we'll just see what happens on Tax Day.
Well... HE won't... Because he'll be watching CNN.
From HotAir
He has the cashews to compare what Obama has done to what Republicans have done in the past decade? CBO estimates show Obama increasing the deficit FOUR TIMES what Bush made it. Claiming Bush is as much to blame for this as Obama is shows how desperate they have become.
How long can Obama supporters hold out?
Keep in mind; we're still only THREE months into his presidency.
I'm reminded of how anti-gunners think pro-gun bloggers are shills for the NRA, and funded with wheelbarrows of cash, because why on Earth else could people spend their time and money supporting gun rights?
Poor Lefties; they’ve been playing on astroturf so long that they don’t know grassroots even when fed a mouthful of divot.
~Tam
I'll be attending a local Tax Day Protest, not because I'm being brainwashed or paid or a Republo-bot, but because I'm pissed off. I'm pissed off about spending. I've BEEN pissed off about spending since Bush, the first president I supported. I don't think I'd be as pissed off if Obama spent another 500 billion, but 1.8 Trillion?! And I'm supposed to look to HIM for answers in this crisis?!
I guess we'll just see what happens on Tax Day.
Well... HE won't... Because he'll be watching CNN.
From HotAir
Don't mess with Texas. Trunk guns are required by law.
A Houston man was driving his truck down the freeway, likely to a hippie throwing contest, when some incredibly intelligent gentlemen decided it would be fun to shoot at him. They fired off a few rounds at the truck, probably with one of those tiny guns idiots who shoot at cars prefer, then finish their daring mission by fleeing down the next offramp. The Houston man was unscathed, but decided to pull over to see if he needed to repair his truck using only his saliva, elbow grease, and awesomeness. He grabbed a rifle he had in the car for self defense, and was probably getting ready to wrestle a bear or something, when he noticed the car that shot at him was visible from the edge of the freeway overpass. As he was looking at the car the driver-side window rolled down, and he decided that if they wanted some air, he would be happy to give them some air holes. He opened fire on the car, killing one, and unfortunately, merely wounding two others, who would likely live on to tell their friends why they don't randomly shoot at cars anymore. Then the police showed up and posed for pictures with him, and got his autograph, before recommending he sue the survivors for replacement ammo.
At least, that's how I read the story.
At least, that's how I read the story.
Upward Over The Mountain
A friend of mine twittered (tweeted?) the following video, and commented that it makes him want to move out of California.
The video choked me up. It made me pine for something I've never had before. I'm sure the music had a lot to do with it, but the images in the first half of the video struck a chord with me.
I have been thinking and talking about leaving California for a long time now.
Watching this video just now, made me realize--
My heart has already left.
The video choked me up. It made me pine for something I've never had before. I'm sure the music had a lot to do with it, but the images in the first half of the video struck a chord with me.
I have been thinking and talking about leaving California for a long time now.
Watching this video just now, made me realize--
My heart has already left.
If I only had a gun, 1 hour of training, a 1 o'clock holster, an oversized shirt, and unfitted gloves against a highly trained attacker with gun radar
ABC did a show on 20/20 called "If I only had a gun" supposedly about concealed carry on campuses. You can watch it at that link.
The results are amazing. They conclude, with only slight doubt, that highly trained firearm instructors were able to shoot faster and more accurately at a single target than some random people they chose!
Someone fire up the Pulitzer.
I find it amusing that JD parodied the title "If I Only Had A Brain", because this whole "investigation" is full of men made of straw.
A Strawman Argument is when you want to attack a group, but you can't or won't attack them directly, so you erect a strawman, claim it as a member of the group, and attack it.
Diane Sawyer has picked some random people out of a school, and proclaimed them "trained to carry concealed weapons in the defense of themselves and others." If Sawyer had any journalistic integrity, or interest in getting some real results, she would have gotten a student with a real CCW permit, who supports campus carry, and ran him/her through the test.
But I guess those guys would be hard to find. I mean, it's not like they've got a website or anything.
This test is set to fail from the beginning, but they just can't help themselves!
Unsatisfied with the already unnaturally high chance of failure in their test, they make it even harder on the students!
Students are trained on holsters on the side of their waist, a 3 o'clock position, common with carrying when sitting. But when they are concealing, they are given triple retention holsters mounted right by the belt buckle. This means from a standing position, the student would have to unsnap the retention strap, and draw the weapon at the correct angle. But the students are attacked while in a sitting position, which means the gun is jammed between their stomach and leg, virtually inaccessible, and completely inaccessible if one ducks for cover, like they were apparently supposed to do.
If that wasn't enough, students were then given oversized white t-shirts, presumably to show the impact of the shots better, but couldn't they find ones the right size? Now the student has to get out of the sitting position, and get to cover while reaching under an oversized shirt, releasing the retention strap, drawing from the right angle, and returning fire accurately.
Unsure if they had done enough to ensure failure, they had the students put on gloves! The students were then expected to do all these things without the sensation of touch!
Somehow this wasn't hard enough, so they decided the attacking shooter was going to be the professional instructor who trained all of them!
Then they told the instructor where the person with the gun was going to sit every time!
THEN THEY ADDED ANOTHER TRAINED SHOOTER!
Amazingly, one actually manage to draw and return fire! WHOOPS! Maybe they should have put them in a straight jacket, and hung them upside down from a burning rope!
Yes, one of these random students with minimal training manages to shoot the attacker, but she had been shot immediately after the teacher, and didn't feel it. Had the attacker not known EXACTLY where the student with the gun was, she would have taken him down. This was practically a victory! With the odds stacked against her, a barely trained student manages to take cover, draw from a poor holster position under oversized clothing, all without the sensation of touch, and return fire on an attacker, and all they can say is, "Well, he got you first."
Of course he got her first! The attacker was briefed on exactly where the student would be, and as the first-person camera shows, actually avoids shooting other people in favor of shooting the student who hadn't even revealed possession of a gun! This is their unbiased test?
For Diane Sawyer, there's no such thing as "close," only pass and fail. 20/20 uncovers the unbelievable truth that simply having a gun on your person, and practicing with it for an hour, doesn't qualify you to carry a firearm in the defense of yourself and others.
This best kept secret is known only to almost everyone who carries a concealed weapon.
Gee, Diane, if you were some kind of reporter, maybe you would have actually TALKED to someone who carries concealed. A simple 5 minute phone call with someone who actually carries would have informed you that your "test" was flawed in numerous ways. But hey, you're obviously the expert here. I must have missed your article on CCW training in last month's Guns 'n Ammo magazine.
But lets not forget the student with hundreds of hours of experience. And by "experience" they mean range time. And by range time, they mean a person shooting a gun in a lane at paper targets, not a person training to draw and shoot a gun from concealment. But forget that, he's the token gun owner, and proves without question that gun owners are unfit to carry concealed under all circumstances.
The shooter in this "test" was given two instructions; to shoot the teacher, and to shoot the person sitting in the chair in the middle. What would have made it interesting would have been if the person with the gun switched seats, or if the shooter wanted to kill as many people as possible (you know, like they do in real life?), instead of intentionally avoiding shooting anyone but the person they were told had the gun. But then, that would have broken the intended series of events labeled;
1: Shooter enters.
2: Shooter shoots teacher.
3: Shooter shoots person sitting in chair #7, proving once and for all that guns are useless unless you're a bad guy.
Who cares about accuracy when you've got an agenda?
So, Diane Sawyer, just for the sake of argument, lets assume your conclusion is accurate. Lets assume that a good guy with a gun had a good chance of failing.
Lets assume the good guy has a 10% chance of stopping the shooter.
Does that mean it would be better if there was a 0% chance?
Sorry, the piece just left me with all these inconvenient questions that were conveniently left unaddressed.
You want a real test, Diane Sawyer?
Talk to the folks at ConcealedCampus.org, and ask them to send you a student with a CCW who carries the same gun used in the training. Let the student wear whatever he/she wants, let the student carry however he/she wants, and let the student sit wherever he/she wants. Then, tell the same highly trained instructor to enter, shoot the teacher, then kill as many students as possible.
Do this once with a student carrying somewhere in the class, then do it again WITHOUT a student carrying somewhere in the class.
Record the results, then report.
I think you'll be surprised.
We won't, but you will.
But hey, maybe I'm being too hard on Diane. Maybe she was just too ignorant to realize she was playing the useful idiot to the police instructor with an agenda. Maybe the carry position, t-shirts, gloves, seating position, and selection of shooter was his idea, and Diane was just too trusting to realize she was being conned. It certainly wouldn't be the first time.
So, what say you guys?
And what say Diane?
The results are amazing. They conclude, with only slight doubt, that highly trained firearm instructors were able to shoot faster and more accurately at a single target than some random people they chose!
Someone fire up the Pulitzer.
I find it amusing that JD parodied the title "If I Only Had A Brain", because this whole "investigation" is full of men made of straw.
A Strawman Argument is when you want to attack a group, but you can't or won't attack them directly, so you erect a strawman, claim it as a member of the group, and attack it.
Diane Sawyer has picked some random people out of a school, and proclaimed them "trained to carry concealed weapons in the defense of themselves and others." If Sawyer had any journalistic integrity, or interest in getting some real results, she would have gotten a student with a real CCW permit, who supports campus carry, and ran him/her through the test.
But I guess those guys would be hard to find. I mean, it's not like they've got a website or anything.
This test is set to fail from the beginning, but they just can't help themselves!
Unsatisfied with the already unnaturally high chance of failure in their test, they make it even harder on the students!
Students are trained on holsters on the side of their waist, a 3 o'clock position, common with carrying when sitting. But when they are concealing, they are given triple retention holsters mounted right by the belt buckle. This means from a standing position, the student would have to unsnap the retention strap, and draw the weapon at the correct angle. But the students are attacked while in a sitting position, which means the gun is jammed between their stomach and leg, virtually inaccessible, and completely inaccessible if one ducks for cover, like they were apparently supposed to do.
If that wasn't enough, students were then given oversized white t-shirts, presumably to show the impact of the shots better, but couldn't they find ones the right size? Now the student has to get out of the sitting position, and get to cover while reaching under an oversized shirt, releasing the retention strap, drawing from the right angle, and returning fire accurately.
Unsure if they had done enough to ensure failure, they had the students put on gloves! The students were then expected to do all these things without the sensation of touch!
Somehow this wasn't hard enough, so they decided the attacking shooter was going to be the professional instructor who trained all of them!
Then they told the instructor where the person with the gun was going to sit every time!
THEN THEY ADDED ANOTHER TRAINED SHOOTER!
Amazingly, one actually manage to draw and return fire! WHOOPS! Maybe they should have put them in a straight jacket, and hung them upside down from a burning rope!
Yes, one of these random students with minimal training manages to shoot the attacker, but she had been shot immediately after the teacher, and didn't feel it. Had the attacker not known EXACTLY where the student with the gun was, she would have taken him down. This was practically a victory! With the odds stacked against her, a barely trained student manages to take cover, draw from a poor holster position under oversized clothing, all without the sensation of touch, and return fire on an attacker, and all they can say is, "Well, he got you first."
Of course he got her first! The attacker was briefed on exactly where the student would be, and as the first-person camera shows, actually avoids shooting other people in favor of shooting the student who hadn't even revealed possession of a gun! This is their unbiased test?
For Diane Sawyer, there's no such thing as "close," only pass and fail. 20/20 uncovers the unbelievable truth that simply having a gun on your person, and practicing with it for an hour, doesn't qualify you to carry a firearm in the defense of yourself and others.
This best kept secret is known only to almost everyone who carries a concealed weapon.
Gee, Diane, if you were some kind of reporter, maybe you would have actually TALKED to someone who carries concealed. A simple 5 minute phone call with someone who actually carries would have informed you that your "test" was flawed in numerous ways. But hey, you're obviously the expert here. I must have missed your article on CCW training in last month's Guns 'n Ammo magazine.
But lets not forget the student with hundreds of hours of experience. And by "experience" they mean range time. And by range time, they mean a person shooting a gun in a lane at paper targets, not a person training to draw and shoot a gun from concealment. But forget that, he's the token gun owner, and proves without question that gun owners are unfit to carry concealed under all circumstances.
The shooter in this "test" was given two instructions; to shoot the teacher, and to shoot the person sitting in the chair in the middle. What would have made it interesting would have been if the person with the gun switched seats, or if the shooter wanted to kill as many people as possible (you know, like they do in real life?), instead of intentionally avoiding shooting anyone but the person they were told had the gun. But then, that would have broken the intended series of events labeled;
1: Shooter enters.
2: Shooter shoots teacher.
3: Shooter shoots person sitting in chair #7, proving once and for all that guns are useless unless you're a bad guy.
Who cares about accuracy when you've got an agenda?
So, Diane Sawyer, just for the sake of argument, lets assume your conclusion is accurate. Lets assume that a good guy with a gun had a good chance of failing.
Lets assume the good guy has a 10% chance of stopping the shooter.
Does that mean it would be better if there was a 0% chance?
Sorry, the piece just left me with all these inconvenient questions that were conveniently left unaddressed.
You want a real test, Diane Sawyer?
Talk to the folks at ConcealedCampus.org, and ask them to send you a student with a CCW who carries the same gun used in the training. Let the student wear whatever he/she wants, let the student carry however he/she wants, and let the student sit wherever he/she wants. Then, tell the same highly trained instructor to enter, shoot the teacher, then kill as many students as possible.
Do this once with a student carrying somewhere in the class, then do it again WITHOUT a student carrying somewhere in the class.
Record the results, then report.
I think you'll be surprised.
We won't, but you will.
But hey, maybe I'm being too hard on Diane. Maybe she was just too ignorant to realize she was playing the useful idiot to the police instructor with an agenda. Maybe the carry position, t-shirts, gloves, seating position, and selection of shooter was his idea, and Diane was just too trusting to realize she was being conned. It certainly wouldn't be the first time.
So, what say you guys?
And what say Diane?
Thursday, April 09, 2009
Ghetto AR Ambi Light
I wanted to move my AR to bedside duty, and that meant it needed a light.
I had a few requirements;
1. Light use is completely ambidextrous
2. No exposed cables.
3. Light must be able to activate in a firing grip.
After playing around with a rail, a Surefire G2, and a raised scope mount I had lying around, I actually came up with something acceptable.
By moving the button right next to where my hand would be in a magwell grip, I can activate the light by pushing my ring finger forward slightly.
It's low enough to light the target area without being shaded by the underside of the gun, though the shade of the barrel remains. The scope mount locks solidly enough to be handled like the handguard. The only thing it needs is a click lock so I can push to temporarily activate, and push harder to permanently activate.
I had a few requirements;
1. Light use is completely ambidextrous
2. No exposed cables.
3. Light must be able to activate in a firing grip.
After playing around with a rail, a Surefire G2, and a raised scope mount I had lying around, I actually came up with something acceptable.
By moving the button right next to where my hand would be in a magwell grip, I can activate the light by pushing my ring finger forward slightly.
It's low enough to light the target area without being shaded by the underside of the gun, though the shade of the barrel remains. The scope mount locks solidly enough to be handled like the handguard. The only thing it needs is a click lock so I can push to temporarily activate, and push harder to permanently activate.
“What’s to stop Ned from killing me in the next ten days?”
"I have no answer."
"I'm Against Guns and Violence, Unfortunately Reality Has Intruded on My Delusional Paradise."
Robert Avrech recounts an experience he had at a gun shop.
A woman is terrorized by an obsessed ex-boyfriend, and finds out how complicated it is to buy a gun.
It is unfortunate that she chose this late date to get serious about self defense.
One can only hope Ned doesn't kill her until her 10 day waiting period is over, and she has an opportunity to take a class and actually train with her new gun at the range, and become effective with her weapon. Sadly, without some direction, I fear she will make a mistake if she is attacked. She has all the makings of the type of gun owner who gets shot with their own gun. I pray she takes this responsibility seriously, and takes his training recommendations to heart.
I am reminded of the anti-gun liberals lining up at the gun shop during the LA riots.
"What do you mean I have to wait 10 days?! I'm in danger NOW!"
Part of me feels sorry for these people who choose not to contemplate the obvious effects of their beliefs before reality forces them to do so with life-threatening danger.
"What are you right wingers complaining about? You get your guns after the cooling down period. It's not violating your rights if you get the gun eventually."
But another more cynical part of me realizes that her death will convince her many liberal friends of the usefulness of firearms more effectively than she ever could alive.
Wait. Scratch that. Ventilating a predator who would otherwise live to prowl again is better than 10 new voting pro-gunners.
...Isn't it?
I hope she gets out of this OK.
And when she does, I hope she votes to keep others from this terrible situation, and shares her revelation.
Waiting periods kill.
I can not cast stones at any other man for his choices, particularly in a tough case like this, and I certainly don't know his situation; but there is a reason why I specifically buy loaner firearms.
California allows the loaning of a firearm to someone not legally prohibited from purchasing one themselves for up to 30 days. (receiving loaned handguns requires an HSC, no other requirements for longguns) To someone you may not care to loan your firearms to, you can sell C&R longguns face to face, cash and carry so long as you confirm the buyer is a resident of California, and the buyer states he/she is not a prohibited person. I'm always on the lookout for C&R shotguns.
The Big One is coming. I'm doing my best to get my friends and family to buy tools for self defense and train with them, as well as store food and water. But I'm also buying firearms for loaning in case of emergency, and extra canned goods for charity.
Pirates and Guns at Sea
I've been hearing about pirates in tiny boats with a few rusty AKs taking over oil freighters and cargo ships thousands of times larger, and much more well staffed, and couldn't help but yell at the radio "GIVE THEM GUNS!"
Well, finally people are asking the question that should have been asked first.
Apparently, there is a taboo about guns on "working" [non-pleasure] boats. Once at sea, the Captain is the final word on the boat. Thusly, they don't want the crew to be armed.
Fair enough.
But what's wrong with this?
You set up some empty .50cal mounts at different points on the boat, and store two or three of those .50 cal monsters in the arms locker.
Pirates off the port bow? No problem.
Open the arms locker, two guys can hump the thing up to the bow, attach it to the mount with the best line of fire, and give their boat some aqua therapy.
Little chance of the crew going all Mutiny on the Bounty on you, since it would take three or four men to operate it off of a mount, and it's not particularly maneuverable in the close quarters of a ship.
Hell, you probably wouldn't even need any more than 50 rounds of tracer ammo for the thing.
A nearby swarm of glowing death should be enough to halt the advance of most pirates. If not, keep a few backup cans ready in a safe.
What am I missing here? Why isn't this a good idea?
Well, finally people are asking the question that should have been asked first.
Apparently, there is a taboo about guns on "working" [non-pleasure] boats. Once at sea, the Captain is the final word on the boat. Thusly, they don't want the crew to be armed.
Fair enough.
But what's wrong with this?
You set up some empty .50cal mounts at different points on the boat, and store two or three of those .50 cal monsters in the arms locker.
Pirates off the port bow? No problem.
Open the arms locker, two guys can hump the thing up to the bow, attach it to the mount with the best line of fire, and give their boat some aqua therapy.
Little chance of the crew going all Mutiny on the Bounty on you, since it would take three or four men to operate it off of a mount, and it's not particularly maneuverable in the close quarters of a ship.
Hell, you probably wouldn't even need any more than 50 rounds of tracer ammo for the thing.
A nearby swarm of glowing death should be enough to halt the advance of most pirates. If not, keep a few backup cans ready in a safe.
What am I missing here? Why isn't this a good idea?
What does a scammer do again Mr. President?
Obama was encouraging people to refinance their homes, and added this little bit of info...
He then recommended everyone go to HIS website, MakingHomeAffordable.gov to get help refinancing.
Wait...
What does a scammer do again, Mr. President?
Asks for money up front?
What is it you're doing to my paycheck twice a month?
Interest free mandatory donation?
Actually, I suspect a certain scammer might be trying to cheat me out of my retirement money through a ponzi scheme they're calling "Social Security." It's actually a lot like the thing Bernie Madoff did.
Who should I report this to, Mr. President?
I just want everybody who is watching today to know that if somebody is asking you for money up front before they help you with your refinancing, it's probably a scam ...
He then recommended everyone go to HIS website, MakingHomeAffordable.gov to get help refinancing.
Wait...
What does a scammer do again, Mr. President?
Asks for money up front?
What is it you're doing to my paycheck twice a month?
Interest free mandatory donation?
Actually, I suspect a certain scammer might be trying to cheat me out of my retirement money through a ponzi scheme they're calling "Social Security." It's actually a lot like the thing Bernie Madoff did.
Who should I report this to, Mr. President?
Fun with the motivational poster generator
Motivational poster: Guns; good for when the police are too scared of rioters to protect you. LA Riots Korean store owners protecting shops
Quote of the Barbarism
Barbarians cannot feign civil for long. You can feign barbaric as needed.
~Ride Fast
Quote of the most advanced alarm system known to man
In the comments of the post about the problems with most alarm systems, DirtCrashr reminds us of the most advanced alarm system known to man.
Too true.
Satellites, thermal imaging, motion detection, cellular backups, battery power, redundancies for redundancies, and almost any dog picked up from the local pound can be trained to be more effective.
Funny how that works, huh?
There's something very dangerous about an animal. Something primal in humans that flips your brain switch from "Most advanced being on the planet" to "Practically defenseless against most predators." Most robbers are just robbers. Most don't even carry a weapon more than a screwdriver or crowbar so they can avoid weapons charges. They're not looking to kill or maim, they just want to break in, and steal some stuff to sell. They're usually not particularly violent unless cornered. If given the opportunity to avoid a house with a big dog, they probably will. Emphasis on probably. Layers of security, folks. Oh yeah, make sure you train your dogs not to accept food from strangers.
I've often heard that a mobile alarm system that has teeth, fur, and a particular emotional bond with the alarmee has yet to be improved.
Too true.
Satellites, thermal imaging, motion detection, cellular backups, battery power, redundancies for redundancies, and almost any dog picked up from the local pound can be trained to be more effective.
Funny how that works, huh?
There's something very dangerous about an animal. Something primal in humans that flips your brain switch from "Most advanced being on the planet" to "Practically defenseless against most predators." Most robbers are just robbers. Most don't even carry a weapon more than a screwdriver or crowbar so they can avoid weapons charges. They're not looking to kill or maim, they just want to break in, and steal some stuff to sell. They're usually not particularly violent unless cornered. If given the opportunity to avoid a house with a big dog, they probably will. Emphasis on probably. Layers of security, folks. Oh yeah, make sure you train your dogs not to accept food from strangers.
"But the alarm scared them away!"
An alarm company commercial just came on, and I had a realization beyond the standard fallacy of a loud noise stopping a violent offender.
It was the expected plot...
Sorry, got a little sidetracked there...
The thing I realized was that the robbers knew where she was, and knew that she had an alarm thanks to those signs thaterect a magical barrier alert home invaders to factor it into their plan.
This means the robbers could have easily kicked the door open, rushed to intercept the scared woman, and forced her to answer the phone and claim a false alarm, or simply cut the external phone lines and possibly the power depending on the type of house.
Either way, this commercial is made of fail.
So, are alarms good? Yes!
They alert you to the fact that someone has clandestinely or otherwise entered your home so you can act accordingly, while alerting the police or alarm company to that fact (if placed on a backup battery, and hooked up to an unused cell phone).
Then alarms keep you safe? NO!
An alarm is incapable of causing the loss of blood pressure required to incapacitate a home invader. Therefore, the invader is free to rob, rape, murder, or abduct, until the police get around to responding to the low priority call of an unconfirmed residential alarm activation, and provide the same loss of blood pressure you should have been able to deliver in the first place.
But can't alarms scare away invaders? Maybe!
Are you willing to bet your life on it? An alarm has the possibility of scaring away intruders. A firearm (preferably a long gun), used by a trained individual (you!) has the highest probability of stopping an intruder you can get without employing explosives or a flame thrower. The best thing about using a firearm for self defense is that you are always where you are when you need help. Not across town, or even across the street. Make sure you have a firearm available, and the training to use it effectively, so you have the best opportunity to defend your life.
It was the expected plot...
It's night, a woman hangs up the phone after saying something like, "Boy, I sure am alone, and completely vulnerable! I'm sure nothing will happen." She then begins some distracting task like listening to music through earphones on a treadmill, or entering a sensory deprivation chamber. BUT! Unbeknownst to her;robberswhite robbers dressed all in black have been watching her, and are preparing for a daringrobberyrapeabductionambiguous forced entry with unimportant intentions.
The robbers kick through the door, an alarm immediately sounds, and the robbers; obviously suffering from some kind of ear sensitivity, flee as if chased by the hounds of hell. Before the shattered splinters of the door jamb even touch the floor, the phone rings and, through some form of teleportation, is answered and against her ear.
"This is the alarm company! Are you OK?"
"Yes, someone tried to break in, but the alarm scared them away!"
"Well, you're safe now! I'm here with you in this call center several states away!"
"I feel so safe!"
"I'm going to call the police in your state, probably. See, our emergency calling system doesn't route calls as well as a local 911 call does, so we'll figure out what agency we need to call, and whether or not your street is within their jurisdiction, and since the intruders are gone now, and you are in no immediate danger; they'll be there within the next 48 hours, and write down everything that happened on a piece of paper and leave. Probably. And don't worry; since you've turned off the alarm, and your door is in splinters, the intruders probably won't return when they notice the police aren't coming, and they can enter at will without worrying about the alarm. Probably. "
"I still feel safe!"
"It's a good thing they didn't cut your easily accessible phone lines with a $2 pair of wire cutters, otherwise the alarm wouldn't have been able to notify us, and we wouldn't have been able to call you."
"I maintain my naïve feeling of safety!"
"That's the kind of piece of mind we provide ma'am. We're not heroes... We're just minimum wage call center douches in another state."
Sorry, got a little sidetracked there...
The thing I realized was that the robbers knew where she was, and knew that she had an alarm thanks to those signs that
This means the robbers could have easily kicked the door open, rushed to intercept the scared woman, and forced her to answer the phone and claim a false alarm, or simply cut the external phone lines and possibly the power depending on the type of house.
Either way, this commercial is made of fail.
So, are alarms good? Yes!
They alert you to the fact that someone has clandestinely or otherwise entered your home so you can act accordingly, while alerting the police or alarm company to that fact (if placed on a backup battery, and hooked up to an unused cell phone).
Then alarms keep you safe? NO!
An alarm is incapable of causing the loss of blood pressure required to incapacitate a home invader. Therefore, the invader is free to rob, rape, murder, or abduct, until the police get around to responding to the low priority call of an unconfirmed residential alarm activation, and provide the same loss of blood pressure you should have been able to deliver in the first place.
But can't alarms scare away invaders? Maybe!
Are you willing to bet your life on it? An alarm has the possibility of scaring away intruders. A firearm (preferably a long gun), used by a trained individual (you!) has the highest probability of stopping an intruder you can get without employing explosives or a flame thrower. The best thing about using a firearm for self defense is that you are always where you are when you need help. Not across town, or even across the street. Make sure you have a firearm available, and the training to use it effectively, so you have the best opportunity to defend your life.
Wednesday, April 08, 2009
Eliminate Your Tactical Gut
There are no dangerous weapons, only dangerous men.
~Robert Heinlein, Starship Troopers
Earlier, Stingray wrote a post on Weapon Maintenance. No, not the weapon you hold in your hand.
...cast your mind’s eye around the collection of folks you go to the range with, or the ones at the gun shop, or the last group you went to Blackwater with. How many of them had a gut that entered the room several seconds before the rest of them, or had to stop every few minutes for a quick puff?
I won't call it scathing, but Stingray pulls few punches. Worth the read.
Tam couldn't help but post this...
[insert stifled laughter here]
...and add the following.
There's no point nattering on teh intarw3bz about the proper technique for "low crawling" if your ass is going to be sticking in the air just waiting for some marines to plant a flag atop it.
PDB has picked up the gauntlet cast in no particular direction, and issued his own.
We live in increasingly dangerous times.
I started my workout two months ago.
Should you?
Quote of The Bow
Not in my name. I am an American. I bow to no one.
~Breda
One of the things I love about America. A country founded under the belief that each citizen is an individual unto him/herself, beholden to none, under a government of the people, by the people, and for the people. We are individuals. Born no better than anyone else, with the equal ability to become a dog catcher or the president.
It's part of why other countries hate us. We have no ceiling.
OBAMA GO HOME
Protestors hold a banner during a demonstration in Istanbul. US President Barack Obama wraps up an exhausting eight-day trip to Europe after setting lofty new US foreign policy aspirations and declaring the US will never be at war with Islam.
Isn't it great to be loved all around the world now that Obama is in office?
Muscles I never knew I had
After finding out I was broken, I headed over this morning, and my dad and sister showed me how I was using my traps, and not my back.
I watched my dad do an exercise wherein you lie flat on your stomach on a bench, hold your forearms parallel to your body, and extend them forward, then back. He was huffing and puffing over what looked extremely simple.
Then it was my turn.
I could immediately feel how I used my traps when I should use my back. After some coaching, I was using muscles I never even knew existed, and I was huffing and puffing too. I could only do about 5 of these properly before I had to stop.
After a few other tiny workouts, I was exhausted. Now, hours later, I feel like I had a full workout. This is definitely going to be interesting.
I watched my dad do an exercise wherein you lie flat on your stomach on a bench, hold your forearms parallel to your body, and extend them forward, then back. He was huffing and puffing over what looked extremely simple.
Then it was my turn.
I could immediately feel how I used my traps when I should use my back. After some coaching, I was using muscles I never even knew existed, and I was huffing and puffing too. I could only do about 5 of these properly before I had to stop.
After a few other tiny workouts, I was exhausted. Now, hours later, I feel like I had a full workout. This is definitely going to be interesting.
OBAMA ENDS WAR IN IRAQ!!!
Kinda.
There are still troops there, and they are still fighting, but it's not the "War in Iraq" any more, that war is over.
Unfortunately, we still have to deal with the Overseas Contingency Operation in Iraq, which started, coincidentally enough, the exact moment the "War in Iraq" ended. Troops are still over there, fighting and dying, but at least the "War in Iraq" is over.
You see, we have tofight contingency them over there overseas, so we don't have to fight contingency them over here.
These are fresh ideas that end Bush's flawed logic, and begin Obama's hope and change.
There are still troops there, and they are still fighting, but it's not the "War in Iraq" any more, that war is over.
Unfortunately, we still have to deal with the Overseas Contingency Operation in Iraq, which started, coincidentally enough, the exact moment the "War in Iraq" ended. Troops are still over there, fighting and dying, but at least the "War in Iraq" is over.
You see, we have to
These are fresh ideas that end Bush's flawed logic, and begin Obama's hope and change.
Tuesday, April 07, 2009
How can DC save money?
RELEASE 80% OF THE PEOPLE IN PRISON!
Eighty percent?! Jesus Christ slathered in coco butter!
This is their solution to a problem?!
Reminds me of the old joke;
Government: If you think our problems are bad, wait till you see our solutions!
Eighty percent?! Jesus Christ slathered in coco butter!
This is their solution to a problem?!
Reminds me of the old joke;
Government: If you think our problems are bad, wait till you see our solutions!
BUSH ADMIN TRIES TO KILL WIRETAPPING LAWSUIT
Oh, no, wait, it was Obama, and no one cares.
Think this is just an isolated thing? Think Obama really is CHANGING things after Bush? Read more of these posts here and think again.
Think this is just an isolated thing? Think Obama really is CHANGING things after Bush? Read more of these posts here and think again.
Genetic Traps
I got a call from my Dad this morning, asking me to call him about his shoulder. Kind of an odd call. My Dad has always had problems with range of motion in his shoulder, and has had several surgeries to correct it, with limited success.
He told me that he recently found out that his sister was having similar shoulder problems, and needed to have surgery to correct it. It was clear this problem was genetic, and I thought he was calling to tell me to watch out for it, which seemed odd, since he didn't yet have a good preventative solution.
He then told me that he finally got his insurance to pay for him to see a very expensive personal trainer. My sister is learning from the same trainer, and he's supposed to be extremely skilled at what I thought was simply yelling "ONE MORE MAN! IT'S ALL YOU! YOU GOT THIS!" I was wrong.
Apparently three visits with this trainer had restored more motion than years of therapy, and two surgeries. He said that the trainer was able to identify use of the wrong muscles in certain motions. The trainer told him that he was using his traps when he should have been using his back. My ears perked up.
Me: Wait, trapezius? You were using your trapezius instead of your back, and that's the problem?
He: Yeah. He said it probably has something to do with the shape of my shoulder. He said when he started training [my sister], he noticed she was doing the same thing, and he corrected her. I've only been to three sessions, and boom, I have motion again.
Me: That's so weird. Just last week I was at the gym working out my deltoids [shoulders], and noticed that my traps were getting worked out more than my delts. I kept thinking the machine did traps and delts, but all it said was delts.
He: There you go. Our shoulders are different somehow. Good news is, we can train ourselves to use the right muscles until it's what comes naturally.
I'm defective :)
I'm going over to his house tomorrow to work out so he can correct my motion like the trainer.
Were it not for this realization, I'd be doomed to a limited range of motion, pain, and surgeries when I got older. This is good stuff to know. Has your family got any similar abnormalities you may have to plan for? Maybe you should check your family's medical history for a possible glimpse into the future.
He told me that he recently found out that his sister was having similar shoulder problems, and needed to have surgery to correct it. It was clear this problem was genetic, and I thought he was calling to tell me to watch out for it, which seemed odd, since he didn't yet have a good preventative solution.
He then told me that he finally got his insurance to pay for him to see a very expensive personal trainer. My sister is learning from the same trainer, and he's supposed to be extremely skilled at what I thought was simply yelling "ONE MORE MAN! IT'S ALL YOU! YOU GOT THIS!" I was wrong.
Apparently three visits with this trainer had restored more motion than years of therapy, and two surgeries. He said that the trainer was able to identify use of the wrong muscles in certain motions. The trainer told him that he was using his traps when he should have been using his back. My ears perked up.
Me: Wait, trapezius? You were using your trapezius instead of your back, and that's the problem?
He: Yeah. He said it probably has something to do with the shape of my shoulder. He said when he started training [my sister], he noticed she was doing the same thing, and he corrected her. I've only been to three sessions, and boom, I have motion again.
Me: That's so weird. Just last week I was at the gym working out my deltoids [shoulders], and noticed that my traps were getting worked out more than my delts. I kept thinking the machine did traps and delts, but all it said was delts.
He: There you go. Our shoulders are different somehow. Good news is, we can train ourselves to use the right muscles until it's what comes naturally.
I'm defective :)
I'm going over to his house tomorrow to work out so he can correct my motion like the trainer.
Were it not for this realization, I'd be doomed to a limited range of motion, pain, and surgeries when I got older. This is good stuff to know. Has your family got any similar abnormalities you may have to plan for? Maybe you should check your family's medical history for a possible glimpse into the future.
Emergency: TBWSYL - After action report
I finished reading Emergency: This Book Will Save Your Life, and enjoyed it greatly.
I did have a few problems with his conclusions though.
[SPOILERS AHOY!]
His initial concern was that genocide was not something that could be stopped simply because we were the USA, and "that wouldn't happen here." He was concerned about Bush's supposed tendencies toward fascism, and was afraid the USA would go the same way. In the end; he wound up joining up with the government agencies, because he felt good giving back to the community. Fair enough. But to say that his fears were unfounded because he was more likely to be killed in a car accident than by a fascist government? Not quite apples to apples. To a lot of us who ain't goin' out like that, being killed in a random car accident is very different that watching a government turn against its people over the course of decades, and refusing to acknowledge the exact same warning signs history has taught us to look out for.
I'm glad he feels fulfilled helping other people out, and I agree that once people (especially Americans) are more or less squared away in food, water, and security; they give freely of their time, money, and food. But I don't think his selfless conclusion is the right one (maybe I'm reading it wrong?), especially when he was instructed that his family was his first priority, then his neighborhood, THEN the organization.
He also said that we become what we fight. But does that mean he became a fascist, or that he no longer thinks the government will become fascistic simply because a different dude is sitting in the big boy chair, lording over the exact same devices Bush put into place, for either 4 or 8 years? We've got the same destination as those regimes he rattled off after visiting the Holocaust museum, we're just getting there at a different rate. It doesn't matter who's in the president's seat, or for how long, because if you keep giving the seat tools of power, eventually someone's going to sit in it who realizes the sum of their power, and isn't going to want to leave. That won't change until we start taking those powers away, wholesale.
The question, I suppose, is this: What is he going to do when they call him up, and ask him to help them round up criminals who all happen to have something in common besides being criminals? Maybe they're all Jews, or maybe they're all disabled people, or maybe they're all people of a certain political belief. If he's ready to say "Fuck off" when asked to do something similar after being told it's for "the good of the community," then I'm on the same page. If not, then he truly has become what he fought. Only under a different dude in the big boy chair.
But don't let this make you guys think I didn't like the book! I loved it! It was a great chronicle of his journey from 0% prepared to considerably prepared, and his mental and physical struggles along the way. I highly recommend you read it, and will recommend it to my friends. The end just kind of bugged me.
I did have a few problems with his conclusions though.
[SPOILERS AHOY!]
His initial concern was that genocide was not something that could be stopped simply because we were the USA, and "that wouldn't happen here." He was concerned about Bush's supposed tendencies toward fascism, and was afraid the USA would go the same way. In the end; he wound up joining up with the government agencies, because he felt good giving back to the community. Fair enough. But to say that his fears were unfounded because he was more likely to be killed in a car accident than by a fascist government? Not quite apples to apples. To a lot of us who ain't goin' out like that, being killed in a random car accident is very different that watching a government turn against its people over the course of decades, and refusing to acknowledge the exact same warning signs history has taught us to look out for.
I'm glad he feels fulfilled helping other people out, and I agree that once people (especially Americans) are more or less squared away in food, water, and security; they give freely of their time, money, and food. But I don't think his selfless conclusion is the right one (maybe I'm reading it wrong?), especially when he was instructed that his family was his first priority, then his neighborhood, THEN the organization.
He also said that we become what we fight. But does that mean he became a fascist, or that he no longer thinks the government will become fascistic simply because a different dude is sitting in the big boy chair, lording over the exact same devices Bush put into place, for either 4 or 8 years? We've got the same destination as those regimes he rattled off after visiting the Holocaust museum, we're just getting there at a different rate. It doesn't matter who's in the president's seat, or for how long, because if you keep giving the seat tools of power, eventually someone's going to sit in it who realizes the sum of their power, and isn't going to want to leave. That won't change until we start taking those powers away, wholesale.
The question, I suppose, is this: What is he going to do when they call him up, and ask him to help them round up criminals who all happen to have something in common besides being criminals? Maybe they're all Jews, or maybe they're all disabled people, or maybe they're all people of a certain political belief. If he's ready to say "Fuck off" when asked to do something similar after being told it's for "the good of the community," then I'm on the same page. If not, then he truly has become what he fought. Only under a different dude in the big boy chair.
But don't let this make you guys think I didn't like the book! I loved it! It was a great chronicle of his journey from 0% prepared to considerably prepared, and his mental and physical struggles along the way. I highly recommend you read it, and will recommend it to my friends. The end just kind of bugged me.
Monday, April 06, 2009
The Sarah Connor Chronicles continues to impress
UPDATE: shit, oh yeah, spoilers...
[Highlight for spoilers for April 3rd episode]
I love any show that isn't afraid to unceremoniously kill main characters.
[/Highlight]
[Highlight for spoilers for April 3rd episode]
I love any show that isn't afraid to unceremoniously kill main characters.
[/Highlight]
Harbingers of Dangerous Archetypes
There is a place near work where I usually go for lunch. There are a few fast food places there, and a good parking spot in the shade, usually vacant, which overlooks an intersection nearby a freeway.
Because I work evenings, I get to see all the people heading home at the end of the day, and because of the location, I see airplanes passing overhead.
It's a good spot to sit and listen to the radio or read.
There was a camera mounted on top of one of the street light posts. This is fairly common in southern California, everywhere you look, you'll spot cameras at busy intersections, monitoring traffic to ensure a minor break down doesn't instantly back up for miles. But this camera was a remote control camera. It was mounted on a housing that allowed it to be rotated on its post, and tilted up and down. I noticed this camera more, because when I parked each day, it was pointed in a direction other than where you would expect. The bulk of the traffic came from two directions, and this camera seemed to point every way but those. (nor did it point at me, which I most certainly would have taken note of)
I'd idly wonder what the camera was for, and who was controlling it, but think little of it.
Some time later, another camera appeared below the first. It was a fixed position camera, and pointed at the bulk of the traffic, where one would expect it to point were it of limited mobility. I figured they wanted to be able to keep a permanent eye on the traffic, while looking around. Not a big thing, it just kind of made sense to me.
Some time later, another camera, exactly like the second appeared under the second. Fixed position camera, pointed at the same lane as the second. Again the movable camera on top pointed every way but at the traffic. I thought this odd.
Some time later, ANOTHER CAMERA, exactly like the third appeared under the third. Fixed position camera, pointed at the SAME lane as the third.
There were now four cameras atop this traffic light pole, and three of them pointed in the exact same direction. The cameras are pretty high up, there's no way the field of vision of one needed to be supplemented to view the entire street. The street also ran further back, and around a bend, but the cameras were pointed, seemingly at the same point in each lane of traffic on that street.
There was no reason for the overlap unless the vision was limited. Then I realized that the three cameras were older models that the one on top, and thought they might not have as good resolution. Then I thought perhaps they were zoomed in on each lane. One old camera with poor resolution could easily discern traffic conditions, but not provide clear pictures of drivers or license plates. If one were to use a manual zoom on the aged cameras, they would be able to do so, but for a limited range of visibility. So you'd need three cameras to watch three lanes with enough visibility to catch each front license plate, and face. Then I realized front license plates are not actively ticketed in Orange County. LA county tickets them mercilessly, because of their red light cameras, but it's not primary concern in OC. If they wanted license plates, they would turn them to see the cars passing, not approaching the intersection.
So what then?
I realize these seemingly redundant cameras are probably completely benign, and likely just another reminder of the wastefulness of governments, or an indication of three bureaucracies that insisted on a complete camera of their own...
But that doesn't mean I have to like watching street lights turned into surveillance towers, or that I should just shut up and eat my fries.
These kinds of things are harbingers of dangerous archetypes.
They are systems that are being implemented now, with good intentions, by honorable people. But that does not preclude them from being misused in the future by people who see troubling possibilities and opportunities in these objects that did nothing to raise our ire for so many years, and successfully blended into the background of our vision.
It's like watching
We're using a landmine as paperweight.
The benefits do not outweigh the risks.
Emergency: This Book Will Save Your Life
After reading Kevin's second post about a book he was reading, Emergency: This Book Will Save Your Life, my interest was piqued, and I called a nearby B&N to confirm they had it in stock, and picked it up at 9pm yesterday (sunday).
I got to bed around 4am because my eyes stopped working.
Almost done with it, and antsy to return to it. I'm also antsy to share it with friends.
This books gets the ET double triple ultra seal of uber mega approval. Head over to Kevin's place to read this first and second post on the book for an idea of the topics covered. He IS a liberal, so there will be a few (very few) parts where you'll have to resist the temptation to yell at the book, but it's easily worth the annoyance. Read it.
UPDATE: I've finished the book, read my after action report.
I got to bed around 4am because my eyes stopped working.
Almost done with it, and antsy to return to it. I'm also antsy to share it with friends.
This books gets the ET double triple ultra seal of uber mega approval. Head over to Kevin's place to read this first and second post on the book for an idea of the topics covered. He IS a liberal, so there will be a few (very few) parts where you'll have to resist the temptation to yell at the book, but it's easily worth the annoyance. Read it.
UPDATE: I've finished the book, read my after action report.
L.E.S. Artistes - Santogold
I haven't had time to watch the video, sorry if it sucks.
UPDATE: Ok, watched the video... It's interesting... Still better than others I've seen.
Walther G22 KABOOM!
OR
The funny-looking woodland camo Phoenix burned down again, rose again, burned down again, then got sent to Walther.
With the Walther G22 Space Gun's triumphant return, I was eager to pick a good zero, and test the specialty ammo I had. But first, I had to find a fix for the stop-gap replacement pin I had used in the previous post.
I finally found a use for harbor freight's tools, and used a micro philips screwdriver as a replacement hammer spring guide rod pin, and needed only insert it, and bend it a few times before it snapped off helplessly. Eager to relinquish the task for which it was created, but never really good at, for a job that it excelled at; being metal and cylindrical. It fit perfectly, and with a little filing, it was quite flush.
While I had the guts lying in front of me, I carefully examined the hammer and sear to see if I could safely do something, anything, to make the trigger even slightly better. The topology of the mating points were such that unless I really tried to fuck the angles up, I probably wasn't going to destroy my recently fixed gun. Probably. So I removed as little as possible, and kept stopping to check the mating of the two parts. Deepened the angle of the sear slightly because the two parts practically hooked on to each other, and shortened the depth of the hammer catch point, since the sear had quite a long way to travel before letting go. I was so coy with the parts and the filing, I didn't think I had done much, but upon reassembly, the trigger was definitely better. Not by much, but better.
I reassembled and went to the range with a sampling of different ammo, and a twinkle in my eye. I was making things work, and getting things done.
At the range, the Space Gun was reminding me why I liked it so much. After running an initial few magazines to test function, I started playing with the different sight settings. The rear sight has a rotating set of blades numbered 1-6, with different heights. I was finding the best sight for the short distances I expected the space gun might be asked to perform as a trunk .22 rifle. I settled on the highest sight blade, 6, and set about discovering where the point of impact was at different ranges, and estimating the approximate size of one of the many wild cotton tails I saw on a daily basis.
I set the target to 21 feet, shot three rounds, and wrote on my notepad, Sight 6 21' 2" low. The trigger was definitely better. I marked the three hits, rotated the target plate, set it back to 35 feet, and
what the fuck? ouch. my face feels weird. what the fuck? what just? did i just? did the space gun just? fuck it's smoking all over the place! top cover is popped up. ow, damnit. shit! my face is numb!
I staggered back, pumping adrenaline, fear, and sweat. I felt the left side of my face, it was numb and tingling. I rubbed my hand down my cheek and neck, and checked it for blood, there was none. Did I just Kaboom? I looked at the space gun. Smoke escaped lazily from every edge of the housing around the action. Did the space gun just explode? Still a little dazed, I returned to my lane.
I blew the extra smoke away, and cautiously inspected the chamber. The Winchester .22lr was not completely in the chamber, and the part the was outside, was bulged to twice its diameter, and had a hole in the brass on the ejection side. I just had an out of chamber ignition. I looked at the paper plate targets I leaned against the left side of the range station, and saw a hole was punched in them. I looked at the back of the small stack of paper plates, and saw a dent. Whatever went in had not come out. I pulled the plates apart, and found the piece of brass casing that had blown out of the chamber, luckily, in a safe direction. I tried to remove the brass, and found it to be stuck.
What caused it to go off before the round was properly chambered? Why had the disconnect failed, and released the hammer early? Could it have been a slamfire? I was frustrated with the gun I had given a second chance, and until recently, had been enjoying. I was mad that it was a bullpup, and put the explosion right next to my face. I couldn't have put it together wrong, I saw no mechanical way I could have made this happen. Maybe I was wrong. Either way, I was pissed off at the space gun for letting me down. I wouldn't be able to trust it again. I'd have to sell it for parts.
Goddamnit.
Well, I still needed to test the different ammo in a rifle, so I was going to put the worthless space gun in the trunk, and retrieve the 10/22. As I left the firing line, I explained to the employees what happened, and one wanted to take a look at it. He offered to push a rod through the barrel to push the shell loose, and I accepted. After removing the shell, he examined it, and declared it a crushfire. I had never heard of a "crushfire" before. He explained; the shell did not have a mark from the firing pin, and the bulging was too deep. The bolt stripped the round, began to chamber it, and the brass was weak, and crushed under the force of the bolt, igniting the primer, and setting off the round before it was chambered. It was a fluke. He checked the chamber and surrounding parts for cracks, and said it would probably be OK to shoot again.
The brass was weak! It wasn't the space gun, it was what I had been feeding it! This wasn't the gun's fault, it was the ammo! How could I have been so mad at the gun, it didn't do anything wrong! It didn't fail! It was a fluke!
Relieved and optimistic, I returned to the range, loaded two mags of a different brand of ammo, moved the rifle away from my face, and cautiously fired downrange. The familiar Pat! rang out. I squeezed the trigger again. Pat! Again! Pat! I put my face against the rifle, and aimed at my target. Pat! Pat! Pat! Alright! I finished the two mags, and figured I'd run two more through just to be sure before returning to my task. I loaded the third mag, put the target at 50 feet, set the rear sight to 6, and practiced my offhand 6 o'clock hold.
Squeeeeze... Pat! Squeeeeze... Pat! Squeeeeze... Pat! Squeeeeze... Pat!
Goddamnit. Not again.
I was more prepared for it this time. I was able to discern the shot before the POP, and knew I had just crushfired with different ammo than before. The left side of my face was numb again, and I checked it for blood; there was none. I pulled the bolt back, and it happily ejected the crushfired round, almost identical to the last. It was the gun. There could be no mistaking that now.
Fuck you, space gun.
After my anger subsided, I remembered reading about how some G22s had tight chambers, and how they wouldn't feed ammo that was slightly out of spec. I never had a problem with Federal, but the cheap stuff would frequently jam, and need to have the bolt pushed closed. That, combined with a dirty chamber, probably caused the jamming and the crushfiring. I thought about sending it in when I heard about it, but the federal stuff worked just fine, and it didn't seem legitimate to complain to Walther that out-of-spec ammo sometimes jammed on chambering, and that they needed to fix it free of charge. But now, I wouldn't be able to run through a box of 500 without worrying about crushfires and Kabooms. The space gun would be going back to Walther to get a few extra thousandths of an inch in the chamber.
I know Walther is owned by Smith and Wesson, but I wonder if their repair policy is as good. I guess I'm going to find out soon.
I guess I still like the space gun. It's fun to shoot, and an interesting addition to the fold. I actually want to embrace the weirdness, and give it a razzle dazzle camo job, because I love that stuff. Would be one hell of a head-turner.
On to the next adventure...
The funny-looking woodland camo Phoenix burned down again, rose again, burned down again, then got sent to Walther.
With the Walther G22 Space Gun's triumphant return, I was eager to pick a good zero, and test the specialty ammo I had. But first, I had to find a fix for the stop-gap replacement pin I had used in the previous post.
I finally found a use for harbor freight's tools, and used a micro philips screwdriver as a replacement hammer spring guide rod pin, and needed only insert it, and bend it a few times before it snapped off helplessly. Eager to relinquish the task for which it was created, but never really good at, for a job that it excelled at; being metal and cylindrical. It fit perfectly, and with a little filing, it was quite flush.
While I had the guts lying in front of me, I carefully examined the hammer and sear to see if I could safely do something, anything, to make the trigger even slightly better. The topology of the mating points were such that unless I really tried to fuck the angles up, I probably wasn't going to destroy my recently fixed gun. Probably. So I removed as little as possible, and kept stopping to check the mating of the two parts. Deepened the angle of the sear slightly because the two parts practically hooked on to each other, and shortened the depth of the hammer catch point, since the sear had quite a long way to travel before letting go. I was so coy with the parts and the filing, I didn't think I had done much, but upon reassembly, the trigger was definitely better. Not by much, but better.
I reassembled and went to the range with a sampling of different ammo, and a twinkle in my eye. I was making things work, and getting things done.
At the range, the Space Gun was reminding me why I liked it so much. After running an initial few magazines to test function, I started playing with the different sight settings. The rear sight has a rotating set of blades numbered 1-6, with different heights. I was finding the best sight for the short distances I expected the space gun might be asked to perform as a trunk .22 rifle. I settled on the highest sight blade, 6, and set about discovering where the point of impact was at different ranges, and estimating the approximate size of one of the many wild cotton tails I saw on a daily basis.
I set the target to 21 feet, shot three rounds, and wrote on my notepad, Sight 6 21' 2" low. The trigger was definitely better. I marked the three hits, rotated the target plate, set it back to 35 feet, and
what the fuck? ouch. my face feels weird. what the fuck? what just? did i just? did the space gun just? fuck it's smoking all over the place! top cover is popped up. ow, damnit. shit! my face is numb!
I staggered back, pumping adrenaline, fear, and sweat. I felt the left side of my face, it was numb and tingling. I rubbed my hand down my cheek and neck, and checked it for blood, there was none. Did I just Kaboom? I looked at the space gun. Smoke escaped lazily from every edge of the housing around the action. Did the space gun just explode? Still a little dazed, I returned to my lane.
I blew the extra smoke away, and cautiously inspected the chamber. The Winchester .22lr was not completely in the chamber, and the part the was outside, was bulged to twice its diameter, and had a hole in the brass on the ejection side. I just had an out of chamber ignition. I looked at the paper plate targets I leaned against the left side of the range station, and saw a hole was punched in them. I looked at the back of the small stack of paper plates, and saw a dent. Whatever went in had not come out. I pulled the plates apart, and found the piece of brass casing that had blown out of the chamber, luckily, in a safe direction. I tried to remove the brass, and found it to be stuck.
What caused it to go off before the round was properly chambered? Why had the disconnect failed, and released the hammer early? Could it have been a slamfire? I was frustrated with the gun I had given a second chance, and until recently, had been enjoying. I was mad that it was a bullpup, and put the explosion right next to my face. I couldn't have put it together wrong, I saw no mechanical way I could have made this happen. Maybe I was wrong. Either way, I was pissed off at the space gun for letting me down. I wouldn't be able to trust it again. I'd have to sell it for parts.
Goddamnit.
Well, I still needed to test the different ammo in a rifle, so I was going to put the worthless space gun in the trunk, and retrieve the 10/22. As I left the firing line, I explained to the employees what happened, and one wanted to take a look at it. He offered to push a rod through the barrel to push the shell loose, and I accepted. After removing the shell, he examined it, and declared it a crushfire. I had never heard of a "crushfire" before. He explained; the shell did not have a mark from the firing pin, and the bulging was too deep. The bolt stripped the round, began to chamber it, and the brass was weak, and crushed under the force of the bolt, igniting the primer, and setting off the round before it was chambered. It was a fluke. He checked the chamber and surrounding parts for cracks, and said it would probably be OK to shoot again.
The brass was weak! It wasn't the space gun, it was what I had been feeding it! This wasn't the gun's fault, it was the ammo! How could I have been so mad at the gun, it didn't do anything wrong! It didn't fail! It was a fluke!
Relieved and optimistic, I returned to the range, loaded two mags of a different brand of ammo, moved the rifle away from my face, and cautiously fired downrange. The familiar Pat! rang out. I squeezed the trigger again. Pat! Again! Pat! I put my face against the rifle, and aimed at my target. Pat! Pat! Pat! Alright! I finished the two mags, and figured I'd run two more through just to be sure before returning to my task. I loaded the third mag, put the target at 50 feet, set the rear sight to 6, and practiced my offhand 6 o'clock hold.
Squeeeeze... Pat! Squeeeeze... Pat! Squeeeeze... Pat! Squeeeeze... Pat!
Goddamnit. Not again.
I was more prepared for it this time. I was able to discern the shot before the POP, and knew I had just crushfired with different ammo than before. The left side of my face was numb again, and I checked it for blood; there was none. I pulled the bolt back, and it happily ejected the crushfired round, almost identical to the last. It was the gun. There could be no mistaking that now.
Fuck you, space gun.
After my anger subsided, I remembered reading about how some G22s had tight chambers, and how they wouldn't feed ammo that was slightly out of spec. I never had a problem with Federal, but the cheap stuff would frequently jam, and need to have the bolt pushed closed. That, combined with a dirty chamber, probably caused the jamming and the crushfiring. I thought about sending it in when I heard about it, but the federal stuff worked just fine, and it didn't seem legitimate to complain to Walther that out-of-spec ammo sometimes jammed on chambering, and that they needed to fix it free of charge. But now, I wouldn't be able to run through a box of 500 without worrying about crushfires and Kabooms. The space gun would be going back to Walther to get a few extra thousandths of an inch in the chamber.
I know Walther is owned by Smith and Wesson, but I wonder if their repair policy is as good. I guess I'm going to find out soon.
I guess I still like the space gun. It's fun to shoot, and an interesting addition to the fold. I actually want to embrace the weirdness, and give it a razzle dazzle camo job, because I love that stuff. Would be one hell of a head-turner.
On to the next adventure...
Sunday, April 05, 2009
Friday, April 03, 2009
FUCK YOU, YOU FUCKING FUCKER!
GODDAMNIT!
HE EVEN FUCKING LOOKS LIKE HIM.
I DON'T CARE, IT STILL SUCKS!
Well it's not like Spike displays a lot of emotion. Maybe Mr. I AM AN EFF BEE EYE AGENT! can just play his usual robotic self for acting perfection! You know, like in the day the earth stood still?
"Keanu Reeves is an amazing actor when playing an emotionless alien!" ~ET
HE EVEN FUCKING LOOKS LIKE HIM.
I DON'T CARE, IT STILL SUCKS!
Well it's not like Spike displays a lot of emotion. Maybe Mr. I AM AN EFF BEE EYE AGENT! can just play his usual robotic self for acting perfection! You know, like in the day the earth stood still?
"Keanu Reeves is an amazing actor when playing an emotionless alien!" ~ET
The Space Gun rises from the ashes like a funny-looking woodland camo phoenix!
The Walther G22 "space gun" (Bzzow! Bzzow!) has been out of commission for a while.
One day at the range, it just stopped working. The hammer refused to release, and the trigger pulled into nothingness. A "simple" (heh) field strip revealed no obvious malfunction, and I was reluctant to take out the screwdriver and detail strip the G22, because just a basic strip has two springs that are so happy to see you, they jump right out of the gun and fly in a direction determined by the electromagnetic resonance of chocolate pudding divided by the viscosity of grape soda multiplied by the square root of a jelly donut. (I'm hungry.)
So, the Space Gun sat in its case.
Last night I was reviewing and retooling the contents of the BOB in my car, and realized it made sense to have some .22lr ammo in it. After a careful selection process (15 Aguila subsonic, 15 Aguila SSS, 15 CB shorts, and 55 CCI mini mags), I realized the ammo would be of little use without a .22 that lived in the car. Then I recalled the Space Gun, and decided it was worth the hassle.
I took it down to the primary action, and cautiously unscrewed the four screws holding the two pieces of the action together, and ever-so-carefully parted the halves.
The result was surprisingly simple.
Simple like Rube Goldberg, not simple like simple. But hey, it's a bullpup.
I immediately identified the problem. The guide rod the hammer return spring was around was attached to the hammer by a roll pin. The roll pin proved not to be up to the task, and sheered right in the middle, leaving the spring extended, and the hammer unmotivated to move forward.
I did a quick search for a similarly dimensioned object that could substitute, but came up empty. I pushed the left over bits of the roll pin in, and realized there was more there than I thought. So as a stop-gap, I pushed the remainders of the pin inward on the hammer spring guide rod, and it seemed to cooperate. I pushed a pin through the gap just for piece of mind, really, and closed it up.
A few dry fires later, I remembered how much the trigger sucked, and retrieved my "5 cent trigger job" from the closet, and tightened the trigger up. Hey wait, now that I've seen how bad the sear/hammer mating is, and I might be able to give this gun a proper trigger job... More on that later I suppose.
Silly me didn't bother to get measurements for the pin for replacement, so I'll probably have to open it back up again... Maybe I'll give the hammer/sear a bit more attention this time.
One day at the range, it just stopped working. The hammer refused to release, and the trigger pulled into nothingness. A "simple" (heh) field strip revealed no obvious malfunction, and I was reluctant to take out the screwdriver and detail strip the G22, because just a basic strip has two springs that are so happy to see you, they jump right out of the gun and fly in a direction determined by the electromagnetic resonance of chocolate pudding divided by the viscosity of grape soda multiplied by the square root of a jelly donut. (I'm hungry.)
So, the Space Gun sat in its case.
Last night I was reviewing and retooling the contents of the BOB in my car, and realized it made sense to have some .22lr ammo in it. After a careful selection process (15 Aguila subsonic, 15 Aguila SSS, 15 CB shorts, and 55 CCI mini mags), I realized the ammo would be of little use without a .22 that lived in the car. Then I recalled the Space Gun, and decided it was worth the hassle.
I took it down to the primary action, and cautiously unscrewed the four screws holding the two pieces of the action together, and ever-so-carefully parted the halves.
The result was surprisingly simple.
Simple like Rube Goldberg, not simple like simple. But hey, it's a bullpup.
I immediately identified the problem. The guide rod the hammer return spring was around was attached to the hammer by a roll pin. The roll pin proved not to be up to the task, and sheered right in the middle, leaving the spring extended, and the hammer unmotivated to move forward.
I did a quick search for a similarly dimensioned object that could substitute, but came up empty. I pushed the left over bits of the roll pin in, and realized there was more there than I thought. So as a stop-gap, I pushed the remainders of the pin inward on the hammer spring guide rod, and it seemed to cooperate. I pushed a pin through the gap just for piece of mind, really, and closed it up.
A few dry fires later, I remembered how much the trigger sucked, and retrieved my "5 cent trigger job" from the closet, and tightened the trigger up. Hey wait, now that I've seen how bad the sear/hammer mating is, and I might be able to give this gun a proper trigger job... More on that later I suppose.
Silly me didn't bother to get measurements for the pin for replacement, so I'll probably have to open it back up again... Maybe I'll give the hammer/sear a bit more attention this time.
Quote of beauty
From IRC and a chat about beauty, cute, crazy, and personality.
ZerCool happened upon a fact of life.
ZerCool happened upon a fact of life.
<ZerCool> Beauty fades, crazy is forever.
Adventures in hotwiring your car
I had a problem with my Dodge car, the key didn't seem to do anything. Turn it the three clicks, everything comes on, works fine, press it forward to ignition, nothing. Not even a click.
Push start it, and drive it to a local auto shop, where they are equally confounded. Everything looks right and feels right, but it's just not starting.
They pull apart the ignition, and find a broken part, but can't identify it. The part is an assembly that sits between the key lock cylinder (where you put your key in), and the electronic ignition. The part is a combination of rods, metal and plastic, which also has mechanisms for the key lock.
They talk to the local dealerships, and ask for parts diagrams; this part doesn't appear on any diagrams. He calls other local shops and tries to find someone who's heard something about his part. Nothing. Finally, he calls corporate Dodge, and gets someone on the phone who knows what he's talking about. He says the part, while small, never breaks, so it's not offered as a single part. He recommends buying a whole new steering column for $1100.
Car tech calls around, and finds a shop that might have a used column for less expensive. The tech quotes $700 for the part and labor of replacing it.
Fuck.
I talk to a few people, and one of them thinks he can find the part for me, but it'll take a bit. I rent a car (added rental coverage to my insurance), and use it for four days while I wait for nothing in particular.
During those four days, I talk myself up, and figure I can hotwire the thing to get me out of the rental car, and into my happy little car, while I wait on the parts I need to rebuild the ignition properly.
I decide I'm going to pick up the car on Saturday, push start it, drive it to my brother's house (he has lots of tools), and figure out a way to hotwire it.
Saturday rolls around, and my brother and I are picking up the car, they want to charge me to reassemble the ignition/steering column (with the broken parts???). We say no, we'll figure it out. Also, they left the accessory setting on, so the battery is dead. Like, dead dead. Brother has a trickle charger, so that shouldn't be too much of a problem.
We charge the battery for a bit with the cables, and attempt to push start the car. The car refuses. Push starting wasn't a problem when I brought it in, and as we push harder, and longer, eventually culminating in pushing it with the rental car. Nothing. We bypass the ignition by reaching a screwdriver, charged with 12 volts, down to the starter. It turns over a few times, and fails to start. It becomes apparent that something is preventing it from starting.
I dig into the ignition parts, and figure out how the unidentified part fits into the electronic ignition, how the key cylinder fits into the part, and how they all interact. It seems simple enough. The key inserted into the cylinder pushes a plastic rod forward, which protrudes deep into the electronic ignition, which must allow the car to start. Simply turning the ignition, without that rod poking into the electronic ignition, will not allow the car to start. I experiment with jabbing the rod into the ignition, while turning it, with no success. A heretofore unnoticed red light begins blinking, and an odd beeping pattern starts.
It's obvious something's weird. There's some kind of tamper switch or kill switch that's preventing the car from starting. The car knows something's up, and won't start. We tow it to his house, and I start by disassembling the electronic ignition.
The security torx bits my brother has go down to one-size-too-big, and I can't remove the plastic back of the electronic ignition. By now, the point the assembly fits into is getting pretty torn up, I decide to just tear the back off, and buy a new one if I can't get it working.
A knife and some pliers later, I tear off the plastic back, and identify the fragile brush switch which detects the presence of the key as the ignition is turned. I short the switch so the key will always appear to be in the ignition, and try for a start.
The car doesn't start, but it's no longer complaining as it was before. Progress.
The display complains of bad fuses, and I inspect them all, but can't find any burned out. I click the ignition three times, and get the engine codes to look up online. One of the codes is a failure of the chip sensor. I look up some more information, and discover it's not detecting the chip in the key as nearby the ignition. I didn't even know my key had a proximity chip in it...
The deal is, if the car forgot what the code on the key is, it'll be around $150 to get the chip reprogrammed to recognize the key. If the car DIDN'T forget the key, I just need to have it in the proximity of where it usually is.
There is a cylindrical hole where the lock cylinder used to be, so I just jam the key into the hole, where it conveniently fits quite comfortably without falling out (by design?).
With the key crammed into the empty hole, I jam a screwdriver into the electronic ignition, with the key detector shorted out, and try for a start.
The car turns over, and dies.
It works! The battery just needs as proper charge.
I leave it there overnight on the trickle charger, and we test a few things before declaring it successfully hotwired.
Further investigation of the car's key proximity sensor reveals that the key really must be right up in there for it to work. Removal of the key while the car is running results in the engine dying. Pretty robust anti-theft device!
Pictures will follow when parts come in.
Push start it, and drive it to a local auto shop, where they are equally confounded. Everything looks right and feels right, but it's just not starting.
They pull apart the ignition, and find a broken part, but can't identify it. The part is an assembly that sits between the key lock cylinder (where you put your key in), and the electronic ignition. The part is a combination of rods, metal and plastic, which also has mechanisms for the key lock.
They talk to the local dealerships, and ask for parts diagrams; this part doesn't appear on any diagrams. He calls other local shops and tries to find someone who's heard something about his part. Nothing. Finally, he calls corporate Dodge, and gets someone on the phone who knows what he's talking about. He says the part, while small, never breaks, so it's not offered as a single part. He recommends buying a whole new steering column for $1100.
Car tech calls around, and finds a shop that might have a used column for less expensive. The tech quotes $700 for the part and labor of replacing it.
Fuck.
I talk to a few people, and one of them thinks he can find the part for me, but it'll take a bit. I rent a car (added rental coverage to my insurance), and use it for four days while I wait for nothing in particular.
During those four days, I talk myself up, and figure I can hotwire the thing to get me out of the rental car, and into my happy little car, while I wait on the parts I need to rebuild the ignition properly.
I decide I'm going to pick up the car on Saturday, push start it, drive it to my brother's house (he has lots of tools), and figure out a way to hotwire it.
Saturday rolls around, and my brother and I are picking up the car, they want to charge me to reassemble the ignition/steering column (with the broken parts???). We say no, we'll figure it out. Also, they left the accessory setting on, so the battery is dead. Like, dead dead. Brother has a trickle charger, so that shouldn't be too much of a problem.
We charge the battery for a bit with the cables, and attempt to push start the car. The car refuses. Push starting wasn't a problem when I brought it in, and as we push harder, and longer, eventually culminating in pushing it with the rental car. Nothing. We bypass the ignition by reaching a screwdriver, charged with 12 volts, down to the starter. It turns over a few times, and fails to start. It becomes apparent that something is preventing it from starting.
I dig into the ignition parts, and figure out how the unidentified part fits into the electronic ignition, how the key cylinder fits into the part, and how they all interact. It seems simple enough. The key inserted into the cylinder pushes a plastic rod forward, which protrudes deep into the electronic ignition, which must allow the car to start. Simply turning the ignition, without that rod poking into the electronic ignition, will not allow the car to start. I experiment with jabbing the rod into the ignition, while turning it, with no success. A heretofore unnoticed red light begins blinking, and an odd beeping pattern starts.
It's obvious something's weird. There's some kind of tamper switch or kill switch that's preventing the car from starting. The car knows something's up, and won't start. We tow it to his house, and I start by disassembling the electronic ignition.
The security torx bits my brother has go down to one-size-too-big, and I can't remove the plastic back of the electronic ignition. By now, the point the assembly fits into is getting pretty torn up, I decide to just tear the back off, and buy a new one if I can't get it working.
A knife and some pliers later, I tear off the plastic back, and identify the fragile brush switch which detects the presence of the key as the ignition is turned. I short the switch so the key will always appear to be in the ignition, and try for a start.
The car doesn't start, but it's no longer complaining as it was before. Progress.
The display complains of bad fuses, and I inspect them all, but can't find any burned out. I click the ignition three times, and get the engine codes to look up online. One of the codes is a failure of the chip sensor. I look up some more information, and discover it's not detecting the chip in the key as nearby the ignition. I didn't even know my key had a proximity chip in it...
The deal is, if the car forgot what the code on the key is, it'll be around $150 to get the chip reprogrammed to recognize the key. If the car DIDN'T forget the key, I just need to have it in the proximity of where it usually is.
There is a cylindrical hole where the lock cylinder used to be, so I just jam the key into the hole, where it conveniently fits quite comfortably without falling out (by design?).
With the key crammed into the empty hole, I jam a screwdriver into the electronic ignition, with the key detector shorted out, and try for a start.
The car turns over, and dies.
It works! The battery just needs as proper charge.
I leave it there overnight on the trickle charger, and we test a few things before declaring it successfully hotwired.
Further investigation of the car's key proximity sensor reveals that the key really must be right up in there for it to work. Removal of the key while the car is running results in the engine dying. Pretty robust anti-theft device!
Pictures will follow when parts come in.
Rights are like muscles...
...They disappear if you don't use them.
Lets listen to a recording of someone who didn't CHOOSE to submit to unlawful search, by exercising his rights.
What suspicious activity did this young man undertake in order to raise the hackles of the highly-trained TSA agents? He had $4700 in cash after selling things at an event.
Note that the TSA agents avoid answering his question. They know they don't have the authority to make him answer, all they can do is escalate to a real police agency. Yet they persist in their line of questioning in a manner that implies they have the power to make him answer, and he must answer, or he will be sent to jail.
This is a common tactic.
Be prepared for it, don't be intimidated by it.
You have rights. When the time comes for you to voluntarily waive your rights, really weigh if you absolutely need to be back right on time. Consider if your time and stress is going to be worth the settlement for violation of your civil rights.
If you don't do it... Who will?
One more thing...
Got 30 bucks?
Then you've got 300 hours of recording time, and 25 hours of continuous recording. Long enough to turn on in your pocket when you get up in the morning, and erase at the end of the day if nothing happens.
From SayUncle
Lets listen to a recording of someone who didn't CHOOSE to submit to unlawful search, by exercising his rights.
What suspicious activity did this young man undertake in order to raise the hackles of the highly-trained TSA agents? He had $4700 in cash after selling things at an event.
Note that the TSA agents avoid answering his question. They know they don't have the authority to make him answer, all they can do is escalate to a real police agency. Yet they persist in their line of questioning in a manner that implies they have the power to make him answer, and he must answer, or he will be sent to jail.
This is a common tactic.
Be prepared for it, don't be intimidated by it.
You have rights. When the time comes for you to voluntarily waive your rights, really weigh if you absolutely need to be back right on time. Consider if your time and stress is going to be worth the settlement for violation of your civil rights.
If you don't do it... Who will?
One more thing...
Got 30 bucks?
Then you've got 300 hours of recording time, and 25 hours of continuous recording. Long enough to turn on in your pocket when you get up in the morning, and erase at the end of the day if nothing happens.
From SayUncle
Thursday, April 02, 2009
Making it personal.
You've no doubt noticed this image;
on the sidebar.
I've decided to attend a Tea Party protest on Tax Day.
It'll be in Orange County, California, because Californians have extra things to protest.
I made the decision to take the time off of work, and inconvenience myself, because I wanted to feel like I was making my presence known.
I've been a non-attending well-wisher for long enough.
Will me attending make a huge difference? Probably not. But I decided I needed to do this for myself.
So I can feel like I'm doing my part.
on the sidebar.
I've decided to attend a Tea Party protest on Tax Day.
It'll be in Orange County, California, because Californians have extra things to protest.
I made the decision to take the time off of work, and inconvenience myself, because I wanted to feel like I was making my presence known.
I've been a non-attending well-wisher for long enough.
Will me attending make a huge difference? Probably not. But I decided I needed to do this for myself.
So I can feel like I'm doing my part.
Quote of the outperformed
Via IRC
<Salamander> Man, yesterday I was driving around and I saw a girl holding a big Domino's Pizza banner and she had one end tied to a tree and she was holding the other. It was like 6-8 feet. And I just thought, you know what, that has to be pretty degrading, I mean your co-worker is a fucking tree.
<Salamander> And he's doing a better fucking job than you too.
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