There's nothing like a steel guitar crying in the night
Nothing like a sawdust floor and a good 'ol friendly fight
I'd finally find my way back home and you'd patch up my face
But that was another time and another place
--Clint Black
So there I was, sitting in my car in the parking lot of Half-Price Books, talking to my friend Chris in Nebraska, when I noticed a disturbance in the Force. At first, it was a small, subtle thing, but that’s how it always begins; very small.
It came in the form of two punks.
They were tattooed, muscular white guys in matching wifebeater shirts, looking like trouble, and were walking with a purpose towards a small group of other guys thirty feet away from me. When they got there, I saw them and six other guys standing in a semi circle around something that was just out of my vision. All were young, maybe in their early to mid-twenties. There was a weird, manic tension in them, though. The kind of tension you see just before all hell starts breaking loose.
I was just about to pull my car forward to see what they were all looking at, when another guy backed up into my line of sight. A young white guy, fit-looking, maybe 150 pounds, with his chin down, shoulders hunched, and fists balled up at chest level-the classic stance of a guy who thinks he's about to get hit.
Suddenly, another guy came into view, a goateed Tongan or Samoan by the look of him, though not really big like the islanders often get, but solid and strong looking, with a magnificent afro. As he came into view both guys started swinging on each other like back alley brawlers. Now mind you, this is 3:00 PM on a Sunday afternoon in a parking lot of a major shopping center, but neither guy seemed to care that they were fighting in plain view of a slew of sheeple witnesses.
They fought in bursts. They circled each other, vying for position, and one guy would go on the offensive, lunging forward a step and swinging three or four times wildly, while the other guy would throw a few defensive punches while backing up and then they'd stop for a moment and repeat the process, while the spectators whooped it up and egged them on.
Both had guts, I'd say. Each was slugging and getting slugged in return, right in the face, but neither man showed signs of stopping for awhile. They really weren't good fighters, though. There was no art or skill or science to their fighting whatsoever. They merely stood toe-to-toe and swung wild haymakers at one another for about a half-minute to a minute (it seemed longer at the time), with neither man seemingly doing any damage to the other. As the fight progressed, they got sloppier as well, The haymakers got wider, and they began to laen back a bit and expose their chins rather than keep them tucked in. A hard shot to the throat would have been bad for either one.
The real problem with their fighting was that neither man was hitting with any power. There was no forward drive, no drop-step, and no torque of the body or hips. Nothing. The punches were coming from their arms only, and despite the fact that each guy got hit in the face at least 6+ times, I couldn't see any real damage to either of them. No body shots either. One guy with a decent shovel hook could have ended the fight with a shot to the liver, no problem, but they were headhunters only, and it wasn't working for either of them.
Finally, the white guy threw a flurry of punches, and the Tongan threw a few of his own. Then the Tongan backed up a few steps and put his hands on his knees, panting, and raised a palm towards the white guy in an I Surrender gesture. The white guy dropped his own hands, which had been poised in mid-wind-up, and he walked away. The Tongan walked with his friends to their car, and everyone left in opposite directions.
I remained sitting in my car for another ten minutes, until the cops showed up. Two cruisers passed me, and then turned around and pulled up behind my car. Why they chose me, I don’t know, but I opened my door with a big smile on my face and asked them if they’d gotten a call about a fight. The officer by my car said they had, and I explained briefly what went down. By then two more police cruisers had arrived, and I decided to leave before they arrested me just for not being horrified enough by the thought of a fight going down in front of me.
Truth be known, it was a good, clean fight; a friendly fight. Punches were thrown, dominance established, surrender accepted, and everyone walked away without any hard feelings as far as I could tell. That’s how thing were done in the past. You had a problem with another man, you both stepped outside to settle the matter. No cops, no BS. You swung until somebody had had enough, and everyone walked away.
It was a good way.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Friday, March 27, 2009
Bloody Beggars
Do you ever find yourself being harassed by street people? Do you find yourself having to deal with people you wish would just leave you alone? Beggars, con artists, hustlers, and crooks?
Well, I seem to be running into more than my share lately. Case in point: A few days ago, I pulled into the Food City parking lot intent on buying ingredients for salsa and baleadas.
As I was walking towards the entrance, I noticed a guy meandering along who, as he noticed me, suddenly changed course to intercept my path. Being the suspicious jerk that I am, I was immediately suspicious of this turd. He was a tall, reddish blond white guy, relatively fit and healthy, and walking with a relaxed stride. As he got closer I noticed his eyes were bloodshot.
He caught my eye and sure enough, right out of his mouth came the pitch. "Excuse me, sir? I just got out of the hospital and I need to get a prescription-"
Yeah, right. Prescription my shiny white butt. I'm bettin' on meth. You know how many times I've got the I, My Wife, My Kid Need Medicine pitch from panhandlers? Four times, and it has to be the new official sympathy con of the world. Sheesh.
Honestly, this guy's line is older than dirt, and I was unimpressed. By the time he'd got to mentioning a prescription, I had put my palm up in a one-handed Talk To The Hand version of The Fence, just to keep some distance between us, and I spit out a terse, "No, man!" to the beggar and kept walking like he wasn't even there. He said a few more passive aggressive words to my back, but I didn't care and he wandered off.
In the past, I would have given this guy the time of day, and maybe even some cash. But lately I'm getting real short-tempered and crotchety with these lazy skels who don't even try to be good beggars, and the fact that I know so many of the common panhandler's come-ons just makes me all the more hair-triggered irritable with these people.
It's not that I have anything against begging, mind you. It's a trade, like any other, and one of the world's oldest professions. But if a member of this dubious fraternity approaches me, I demand that more thought and originality be evident in the beggar's pitch, or they get nothing but contempt from me.
No joke, give me a new and heartbreaking Tale of Woe, or threadbare clothes and a broken stagger. Give me bleary eyes and a boozy slur, or gimme comedy or a slick line of palaver. But gimme a reason!
The tired old, "I ran out of gas and need to get to Tucson", or "My wife needs her meds", or "I need bus fare because my grandma's in the hospital and I'm an orphan" lines are stale and uninspiring, and no longer work on this weary traveler.
At first I may have felt self-righteously justified in shutting this beggar down and treating him as a non-entity, but eventually my wrath fell down around my ears and I began to feel bad.
But then I had a cookie, and felt better.
But then tonight I had another run-in with some more annoying people.
I stopped at Fry's on my way home to get some milk, and as I pulled in to the parking lot, I noticed four men loitering out in front of the entrance. when I got out of my car, two of the men were walking off while the other two were shouting out the website addy for some sort of dot-org group.
I was tired, and with a sign of resignation I squared my shoulders and put the most unapproachable scowl I could muster on my face. Both of these guys were scuzzpunks in gangster-noir clothing, shorts halfway down their butts, gold chains, and one had a sideways cap on his head.
When I passed them, one of them asked me if I could give them a few minutes of my time, and I growled out a sullen,"Not tonight" and kept walking. I expected to be harassed as I walked out of the store, but they were gone when I came out five minutes later. Maybe I hurt their feelings. :P
Am I wrong? Am I just an intolerant SOB?
Yes, I am. Sue me.
But one thing I can say, is that the art of begging will become an art form in the coming years. The depression will bring out anyone who needs a quick buck. So I suppose I'd better just accept it and learn to move like water through the demanding throngs of panhandlers that will be infesting the parking lots and street corners in the months and years to come.
For all I know, I may end up as one of them.
Well, I seem to be running into more than my share lately. Case in point: A few days ago, I pulled into the Food City parking lot intent on buying ingredients for salsa and baleadas.
As I was walking towards the entrance, I noticed a guy meandering along who, as he noticed me, suddenly changed course to intercept my path. Being the suspicious jerk that I am, I was immediately suspicious of this turd. He was a tall, reddish blond white guy, relatively fit and healthy, and walking with a relaxed stride. As he got closer I noticed his eyes were bloodshot.
He caught my eye and sure enough, right out of his mouth came the pitch. "Excuse me, sir? I just got out of the hospital and I need to get a prescription-"
Yeah, right. Prescription my shiny white butt. I'm bettin' on meth. You know how many times I've got the I, My Wife, My Kid Need Medicine pitch from panhandlers? Four times, and it has to be the new official sympathy con of the world. Sheesh.
Honestly, this guy's line is older than dirt, and I was unimpressed. By the time he'd got to mentioning a prescription, I had put my palm up in a one-handed Talk To The Hand version of The Fence, just to keep some distance between us, and I spit out a terse, "No, man!" to the beggar and kept walking like he wasn't even there. He said a few more passive aggressive words to my back, but I didn't care and he wandered off.
In the past, I would have given this guy the time of day, and maybe even some cash. But lately I'm getting real short-tempered and crotchety with these lazy skels who don't even try to be good beggars, and the fact that I know so many of the common panhandler's come-ons just makes me all the more hair-triggered irritable with these people.
It's not that I have anything against begging, mind you. It's a trade, like any other, and one of the world's oldest professions. But if a member of this dubious fraternity approaches me, I demand that more thought and originality be evident in the beggar's pitch, or they get nothing but contempt from me.
No joke, give me a new and heartbreaking Tale of Woe, or threadbare clothes and a broken stagger. Give me bleary eyes and a boozy slur, or gimme comedy or a slick line of palaver. But gimme a reason!
The tired old, "I ran out of gas and need to get to Tucson", or "My wife needs her meds", or "I need bus fare because my grandma's in the hospital and I'm an orphan" lines are stale and uninspiring, and no longer work on this weary traveler.
At first I may have felt self-righteously justified in shutting this beggar down and treating him as a non-entity, but eventually my wrath fell down around my ears and I began to feel bad.
But then I had a cookie, and felt better.
But then tonight I had another run-in with some more annoying people.
I stopped at Fry's on my way home to get some milk, and as I pulled in to the parking lot, I noticed four men loitering out in front of the entrance. when I got out of my car, two of the men were walking off while the other two were shouting out the website addy for some sort of dot-org group.
I was tired, and with a sign of resignation I squared my shoulders and put the most unapproachable scowl I could muster on my face. Both of these guys were scuzzpunks in gangster-noir clothing, shorts halfway down their butts, gold chains, and one had a sideways cap on his head.
When I passed them, one of them asked me if I could give them a few minutes of my time, and I growled out a sullen,"Not tonight" and kept walking. I expected to be harassed as I walked out of the store, but they were gone when I came out five minutes later. Maybe I hurt their feelings. :P
Am I wrong? Am I just an intolerant SOB?
Yes, I am. Sue me.
But one thing I can say, is that the art of begging will become an art form in the coming years. The depression will bring out anyone who needs a quick buck. So I suppose I'd better just accept it and learn to move like water through the demanding throngs of panhandlers that will be infesting the parking lots and street corners in the months and years to come.
For all I know, I may end up as one of them.
Friday, March 20, 2009
24: The West Wingnut
I can't believe I spent 40+ minutes tonight watching the latest episode of 24. This show is being written by people who are only there to collect a paycheck and spread their libtarditude to the masses. I actually feel a little embarrassed for the actors who were on the show this season. Except for Janine Garophaloahloah. And Cherry Jones. And Sprague Grayden. They can go pound sand.
Alright, I'm not going to bother describing this weeks' crapisode of 24, so I'll let The Amazing Steve from Dave Barry's blog do it for me.
Last time on "24", we saw that: Bill went to visit Edgar; The White House has no emergency backup power generator if the lights go out; Hospitals with important patients don't have very high security; If Jack tells you not to move, you shouldn't move; If you offer Olivia a job, chances are pretty good she'll turn on you; Jack will go limp if you feed him an Alka-Seltzer, but can revive so quickly that he'll jump through a ceiling to follow a bad guy.
9:00 pm – Jack runs to hide from the police, and happens to find a car old enough that he can smash through it with his elbow. He breaks out his laptop, which happens to be a Mac, which in 24 is traditionally the good guy computer.
9:01 pm – Morris is being tortured at FBI headquarters! Oh, wait, he's talking to Janis – it's worse than torture! Morris is trying to find out where Chloe is, and after going 'round and 'round, Janis finally tells him that Chloe is under arrest. Janis tells Morris to wait in the conference room.
9:02 pm – Larry calls Janis, who appears to have taken over Renee's role. Renee is busy talking to the FBI human resources guy, who tries to go over the FBI policy of cutting down to only shooting three people a day, now that she's on suspension. Renee listens in to Janis' conversation, and it's pretty much a recap of what we already know from last hour, which is Burnett is dead, and Jack took off. Janis recaps this again to Renee, just in case any of the viewers dozed off while it was explained the first time.
9:05 pm – Jack uses his super-Jack powers to drive, work on the computer, find the bad guy, send e-mail, and do promotional advertising using a well-known cell phone company that rhymes with Splint. He calls Renee to ask her to ID the guy Jack is looking for. She does some serious acting, which for her is staring off into space. Jack almost hangs up on her, but she finally agrees to help him ID the bad guy.
9:06 pm – Meanwhile Quinn, the guy Jack is looking for, is listening in on a police radio to find out if there are any episodes of "COPS" being filmed in the area. He happens to hear that the FBI is looking for Jack, so he calls Jonas to let him know that 1) Jack got away, and 2) Jack is an impressive operative. Jonas agrees that Jack is impressive, and is a bit worried that Jack is so impressive it could be trouble for them.
Greg, Jonas' assistant, states the obvious, and says that Jack might be trouble for them. Jonas thinks that once "the weapons" will be deployed, Jack won't matter. He then goes on a tirade about it being necessary to kill a lot of people but that "the loss of one soul is tragic to me", which indicates he might be very delusional, or the devil, or both. I'm leaning towards delusional, because he then tells Greg to wake up a bunch of people because they're going to have a sleepover.
9:08 pm – Renee finds Quinn's information, and calls Jack, telling him that Quinn is working for Starkwood, a private army company. Renee thinks that Senator Red Foreman knows all about Starkwood and what they've been up to, so Jack's going to talk to him.
9:09 pm – Larry shows up at the FBI, and asks Janis a question which he promptly ignores. He walks in to find Renee working on her computer. She says she was just finishing up a game of Minesweeper. Larry doesn't see this, and instead talks to her about Jack.
Larry walks out with a dumb look on his face, but it turns out he was just thinking. Somehow he knows, probably by reading in the script, that Renee talked to Jack. He tells Janis to do "some of that computer stuff" to find out what Renee has been up to . He wants to use Renee as bait to catch Jack. Janis goes along with this, despite her concern that putting Renee on a hook with a fishing pole will be a dead giveaway.
Commercial
9:16 pm – Mrs. President is already relaxing watching her television in the Oval Office, while one of her speech writers is working hard. Olivia wants to spin the whole Juma incident into a great PR campaign, and Mrs. President agrees. Ethan comes in the door, despite Olivia giving him the evil eye. Ethan put on his evil eye repellent this morning, so this has no effect on him.
Ethan tells Mrs. President what Jack has suspected – that there are still people around that helped Juma. He tells her what happened at the hospital, and that he thinks Jack made the whole thing up, since all the evidence about Jack so far points AWAY from Jack. Ethan says he did this to protect the president, and Olivia starts kibitzing from the peanut gallery. Mrs. President tells her not to be snotty.
Ethan tells her that the FBI is devoting their full resources to finding Jack. Since this involves Janis in some way, chances are slim they're catch Jack.
9:18 pm – Renee hands in her badge and gun to the FBI human resources guy. Janis jumps into surveillance mode by staring right at Renee in a completely obvious way, and talking into her headset. Renee leaves the room. Larry catches up to her, and wants to know where Jack is. She refuses to cooperate, so he has her arrested.
9:20 pm – Senator Red Foreman arrives at home to find that someone has involved him in a game of "Goldilocks and The Three Bears" – someone's been using his computer, and it was just right! He looks around, and sees Jack. The Senator says that he knows what happened at the hospital, and that Jack isn't going to be able to kill him all that easily. Jack correctly points out that 1) he would already be dead, and 2) all it would take is Jack's little finger.
Jack is convinced that Starkwood is involved, and Senator Foreman doesn't believe him. The Senator is completely convinced he's right, because they've had "investigations and everything".
Commercial
9:29 pm – More Mrs. President hugs, this time for Olivia. She goes out to talk to everyone in the press, who give her a standing ovation, even that ancient woman in the front row. During her speech, a reporter grabs Ethan. The reporter tells Ethan just about everything that happened within the last hour, which makes him the third or fourth person that has gone over that same story within the last half an hour. Ethan denies the whole thing, and then goes straight to Olivia. They argue about leaking to the press, and Olivia turns out to be quite a bit more rotten then we've previously suspected, since she doesn't seem to have a problem with throwing just about anyone under the bus. She just wants to get "even" with Ethan for pointing out that she's probably not the best person to be advising Mrs. President.
9:31 pm – Larry's on the phone with someone who's already looking for Jack somewhere in the northeast, which is a lot farther away than even Jack can get in 30 minutes, even if he was delivering pizzas. Janis walks in to tell him that Renee used some really high level encryption involving a combination of Blowfish, DES, RSA, rot13, and lemon juice. She says she can't decrypt it, but Chloe probably can. Instead, Larry goes to see Morris, who could also probably decrypt it.
Larry and Janis explain the situation. Morris finds the whole thing hard to believe: Janis is actually working for the FBI. He also thinks that Jack wouldn't have done what they're accusing him of. He finally agrees to do the decryption for full immunity for Chloe, nothing on her record, and a large cherry slushie. Larry agrees. Morris then makes the huge mistake of telling Janis that she's a witness. She responds, "What kind? Jehovah?" He ignores this as he gets to work. Hours of work for Janis, turns out to be seconds of work for Morris – they now know that Jack was headed to visit Senator Red Foreman.
Commercial
9:41 pm – Janis tells Larry that they can't reach the Senator. She's pretty sure it's Jack because the phone they tried to reach the Senator with has been tasered. Larry leaves with a team. Janis walks back to her desk giving orders into her empty hand, when she realizes she left her Bluetooth headset on her desk. She hopes that nobody noticed her doing this.
9:42 pm – Chloe starts to complain to Morris that he shouldn't have helped the FBI. She's really mad and points out that a large squad of FBI agents going after Jack isn't going to be a good thing – for Jack, or them.
9:43 pm – Senator Foreman asks Jack if he has any regrets. Jack sings, (to: "My Way")
"Regrets, I've had a few;
But then again, I got to shoot spies;
I did what I had to do,
and I also got to shoot thighs!
I planned each sneak attack,
Each careful drive along the highway,
But more, much more than this,
I shot them my way!"
9:44 pm – Senator Foreman tries to pretend to understand what Jack has been through. While he does this, Jack finds a picture of a car accident – with Quinn in it! At first Senator Foreman doesn't believe there was a connection, but Jack quickly (even by "24" standards) puts the pieces together: Juma had a WMD that he used against his own people, and Starkwood probably helped him get it. The Senator finds it hard to believe that Juma had a Wild Martian Daiquiri. Jack tells him he means, "weapon of mass destruction" – a bioweapon. Jack thinks they intend to use it.
Suddenly, there's a knock at the door. It's Metro PD! Senator Foreman thinks this might be a setup for another reference to an old Saturday Night Live joke which has been done here before, but Jack believes it's really the police.. The Senator FINALLY realizes that Jack might be on to something, and promises to help Jack. Jack doesn't want to trust him, but he does. The Senator goes to the door, and it turns out that it isn't Metro PD after all – It's Quinn! He hands the Senator some bullets; well, not so much hands as shoots. Senator Foreman is dead! Jack crashes through a window, and escapes before Quinn can hand him some bullets too. Quinn chases after Jack, while the real Metro PD – the ones that don't assassinate senators, drives by.
Commercial
9:53 pm – Olivia enters the Oval Office where Mrs. President and Ethan are waiting. Mrs. President confronts her with the press leak, and wants to hear what Olivia has to say about it. She tells them both that the press probably found out about this from reading a blog from a famous humor writer whose name rhymes with "Brave Dairy". She says that it also might be a leak from inside the federal marshall's office. Olivia got the producer to drop everything by getting him to agree to an exclusive interview with Mrs. President and a shiny nickel. Ethan apologizes, but Olivia just gives him another one of her evil eyes. That one doesn't work this time either.
9:55 pm - Jack runs back and forth, killing a little more time until the end of the hour. He climbs a fence. Meanwhile, Quinn is still running around looking for Jack. Quinn gets mad at a lock, and shoots it. (Jack would have tasered it). Quinn goes into a building, and shoots everything inside just in case Jack is hiding. Jack, of course is WAY ahead of Quinn and uses bulldozer to knock over the whole building! There's a big fight. Jack plays with him for a while, and then throws a knife in Quinn's chest with a follow-up slam in the chest with a two by four. Jack asks when the weapon is coming. Quinn tells him that it is already here, and dies. Jack grabs Quinn's cell phone and finds a text message that says "Port of Alexandria. Yard C. 2230". Jack guesses that they're not taking about Egypt, and uses his phone to call someone.
Larry finds Senator Red is dead, and orders Jack to be shot on sight, which is better than shooting people blindly.
Jack's calls Tony. He tells Tony to meet him at the Port of Alexandria. Jack drives off, taking off a bit of aggression against a defenseless fence.
10:00 pm – Time's up!
NEXT TIME ON "24": ETHAN RESIGNS! SHOOTING! TRUCKS! HELICOPTERS! TONY! JACK! SEE YOU NEXT WEEK!
Seriously? Bio-weapons? AGAIN?!!! C'm on! My giant mutant lizard idea was better. And who's the bad guy this time? Islamo-fascists? Japanese doomsday cultists? Iranians?
No, of course not. It's Blackwater USA, thinly disguised as Starkwood, a stupid plot device ripped off from the post-apocalyptic show Jericho. Only on Jericho, they called it Ravenwood.
Yep, the big villians who're going to kill everyone are NOT foreign terrorists, but instead an American Private Military Company based off of a real-life PMC that's been doing the job our own government won't allow our soldiers to do. Namely, kill terrorists.
This show has become a big stupid liberal echo chamber. And it's become a parody of itself.
So in closing I'll just say this...
24, you went Full Retard. You jumped the shark, and you lost me, and others. You need to go be with Edgar and Bill for all eternity now. We had a good run, didn't we?
But I'm through.
Alright, I'm not going to bother describing this weeks' crapisode of 24, so I'll let The Amazing Steve from Dave Barry's blog do it for me.
Last time on "24", we saw that: Bill went to visit Edgar; The White House has no emergency backup power generator if the lights go out; Hospitals with important patients don't have very high security; If Jack tells you not to move, you shouldn't move; If you offer Olivia a job, chances are pretty good she'll turn on you; Jack will go limp if you feed him an Alka-Seltzer, but can revive so quickly that he'll jump through a ceiling to follow a bad guy.
9:00 pm – Jack runs to hide from the police, and happens to find a car old enough that he can smash through it with his elbow. He breaks out his laptop, which happens to be a Mac, which in 24 is traditionally the good guy computer.
9:01 pm – Morris is being tortured at FBI headquarters! Oh, wait, he's talking to Janis – it's worse than torture! Morris is trying to find out where Chloe is, and after going 'round and 'round, Janis finally tells him that Chloe is under arrest. Janis tells Morris to wait in the conference room.
9:02 pm – Larry calls Janis, who appears to have taken over Renee's role. Renee is busy talking to the FBI human resources guy, who tries to go over the FBI policy of cutting down to only shooting three people a day, now that she's on suspension. Renee listens in to Janis' conversation, and it's pretty much a recap of what we already know from last hour, which is Burnett is dead, and Jack took off. Janis recaps this again to Renee, just in case any of the viewers dozed off while it was explained the first time.
9:05 pm – Jack uses his super-Jack powers to drive, work on the computer, find the bad guy, send e-mail, and do promotional advertising using a well-known cell phone company that rhymes with Splint. He calls Renee to ask her to ID the guy Jack is looking for. She does some serious acting, which for her is staring off into space. Jack almost hangs up on her, but she finally agrees to help him ID the bad guy.
9:06 pm – Meanwhile Quinn, the guy Jack is looking for, is listening in on a police radio to find out if there are any episodes of "COPS" being filmed in the area. He happens to hear that the FBI is looking for Jack, so he calls Jonas to let him know that 1) Jack got away, and 2) Jack is an impressive operative. Jonas agrees that Jack is impressive, and is a bit worried that Jack is so impressive it could be trouble for them.
Greg, Jonas' assistant, states the obvious, and says that Jack might be trouble for them. Jonas thinks that once "the weapons" will be deployed, Jack won't matter. He then goes on a tirade about it being necessary to kill a lot of people but that "the loss of one soul is tragic to me", which indicates he might be very delusional, or the devil, or both. I'm leaning towards delusional, because he then tells Greg to wake up a bunch of people because they're going to have a sleepover.
9:08 pm – Renee finds Quinn's information, and calls Jack, telling him that Quinn is working for Starkwood, a private army company. Renee thinks that Senator Red Foreman knows all about Starkwood and what they've been up to, so Jack's going to talk to him.
9:09 pm – Larry shows up at the FBI, and asks Janis a question which he promptly ignores. He walks in to find Renee working on her computer. She says she was just finishing up a game of Minesweeper. Larry doesn't see this, and instead talks to her about Jack.
Larry walks out with a dumb look on his face, but it turns out he was just thinking. Somehow he knows, probably by reading in the script, that Renee talked to Jack. He tells Janis to do "some of that computer stuff" to find out what Renee has been up to . He wants to use Renee as bait to catch Jack. Janis goes along with this, despite her concern that putting Renee on a hook with a fishing pole will be a dead giveaway.
Commercial
9:16 pm – Mrs. President is already relaxing watching her television in the Oval Office, while one of her speech writers is working hard. Olivia wants to spin the whole Juma incident into a great PR campaign, and Mrs. President agrees. Ethan comes in the door, despite Olivia giving him the evil eye. Ethan put on his evil eye repellent this morning, so this has no effect on him.
Ethan tells Mrs. President what Jack has suspected – that there are still people around that helped Juma. He tells her what happened at the hospital, and that he thinks Jack made the whole thing up, since all the evidence about Jack so far points AWAY from Jack. Ethan says he did this to protect the president, and Olivia starts kibitzing from the peanut gallery. Mrs. President tells her not to be snotty.
Ethan tells her that the FBI is devoting their full resources to finding Jack. Since this involves Janis in some way, chances are slim they're catch Jack.
9:18 pm – Renee hands in her badge and gun to the FBI human resources guy. Janis jumps into surveillance mode by staring right at Renee in a completely obvious way, and talking into her headset. Renee leaves the room. Larry catches up to her, and wants to know where Jack is. She refuses to cooperate, so he has her arrested.
9:20 pm – Senator Red Foreman arrives at home to find that someone has involved him in a game of "Goldilocks and The Three Bears" – someone's been using his computer, and it was just right! He looks around, and sees Jack. The Senator says that he knows what happened at the hospital, and that Jack isn't going to be able to kill him all that easily. Jack correctly points out that 1) he would already be dead, and 2) all it would take is Jack's little finger.
Jack is convinced that Starkwood is involved, and Senator Foreman doesn't believe him. The Senator is completely convinced he's right, because they've had "investigations and everything".
Commercial
9:29 pm – More Mrs. President hugs, this time for Olivia. She goes out to talk to everyone in the press, who give her a standing ovation, even that ancient woman in the front row. During her speech, a reporter grabs Ethan. The reporter tells Ethan just about everything that happened within the last hour, which makes him the third or fourth person that has gone over that same story within the last half an hour. Ethan denies the whole thing, and then goes straight to Olivia. They argue about leaking to the press, and Olivia turns out to be quite a bit more rotten then we've previously suspected, since she doesn't seem to have a problem with throwing just about anyone under the bus. She just wants to get "even" with Ethan for pointing out that she's probably not the best person to be advising Mrs. President.
9:31 pm – Larry's on the phone with someone who's already looking for Jack somewhere in the northeast, which is a lot farther away than even Jack can get in 30 minutes, even if he was delivering pizzas. Janis walks in to tell him that Renee used some really high level encryption involving a combination of Blowfish, DES, RSA, rot13, and lemon juice. She says she can't decrypt it, but Chloe probably can. Instead, Larry goes to see Morris, who could also probably decrypt it.
Larry and Janis explain the situation. Morris finds the whole thing hard to believe: Janis is actually working for the FBI. He also thinks that Jack wouldn't have done what they're accusing him of. He finally agrees to do the decryption for full immunity for Chloe, nothing on her record, and a large cherry slushie. Larry agrees. Morris then makes the huge mistake of telling Janis that she's a witness. She responds, "What kind? Jehovah?" He ignores this as he gets to work. Hours of work for Janis, turns out to be seconds of work for Morris – they now know that Jack was headed to visit Senator Red Foreman.
Commercial
9:41 pm – Janis tells Larry that they can't reach the Senator. She's pretty sure it's Jack because the phone they tried to reach the Senator with has been tasered. Larry leaves with a team. Janis walks back to her desk giving orders into her empty hand, when she realizes she left her Bluetooth headset on her desk. She hopes that nobody noticed her doing this.
9:42 pm – Chloe starts to complain to Morris that he shouldn't have helped the FBI. She's really mad and points out that a large squad of FBI agents going after Jack isn't going to be a good thing – for Jack, or them.
9:43 pm – Senator Foreman asks Jack if he has any regrets. Jack sings, (to: "My Way")
"Regrets, I've had a few;
But then again, I got to shoot spies;
I did what I had to do,
and I also got to shoot thighs!
I planned each sneak attack,
Each careful drive along the highway,
But more, much more than this,
I shot them my way!"
9:44 pm – Senator Foreman tries to pretend to understand what Jack has been through. While he does this, Jack finds a picture of a car accident – with Quinn in it! At first Senator Foreman doesn't believe there was a connection, but Jack quickly (even by "24" standards) puts the pieces together: Juma had a WMD that he used against his own people, and Starkwood probably helped him get it. The Senator finds it hard to believe that Juma had a Wild Martian Daiquiri. Jack tells him he means, "weapon of mass destruction" – a bioweapon. Jack thinks they intend to use it.
Suddenly, there's a knock at the door. It's Metro PD! Senator Foreman thinks this might be a setup for another reference to an old Saturday Night Live joke which has been done here before, but Jack believes it's really the police.. The Senator FINALLY realizes that Jack might be on to something, and promises to help Jack. Jack doesn't want to trust him, but he does. The Senator goes to the door, and it turns out that it isn't Metro PD after all – It's Quinn! He hands the Senator some bullets; well, not so much hands as shoots. Senator Foreman is dead! Jack crashes through a window, and escapes before Quinn can hand him some bullets too. Quinn chases after Jack, while the real Metro PD – the ones that don't assassinate senators, drives by.
Commercial
9:53 pm – Olivia enters the Oval Office where Mrs. President and Ethan are waiting. Mrs. President confronts her with the press leak, and wants to hear what Olivia has to say about it. She tells them both that the press probably found out about this from reading a blog from a famous humor writer whose name rhymes with "Brave Dairy". She says that it also might be a leak from inside the federal marshall's office. Olivia got the producer to drop everything by getting him to agree to an exclusive interview with Mrs. President and a shiny nickel. Ethan apologizes, but Olivia just gives him another one of her evil eyes. That one doesn't work this time either.
9:55 pm - Jack runs back and forth, killing a little more time until the end of the hour. He climbs a fence. Meanwhile, Quinn is still running around looking for Jack. Quinn gets mad at a lock, and shoots it. (Jack would have tasered it). Quinn goes into a building, and shoots everything inside just in case Jack is hiding. Jack, of course is WAY ahead of Quinn and uses bulldozer to knock over the whole building! There's a big fight. Jack plays with him for a while, and then throws a knife in Quinn's chest with a follow-up slam in the chest with a two by four. Jack asks when the weapon is coming. Quinn tells him that it is already here, and dies. Jack grabs Quinn's cell phone and finds a text message that says "Port of Alexandria. Yard C. 2230". Jack guesses that they're not taking about Egypt, and uses his phone to call someone.
Larry finds Senator Red is dead, and orders Jack to be shot on sight, which is better than shooting people blindly.
Jack's calls Tony. He tells Tony to meet him at the Port of Alexandria. Jack drives off, taking off a bit of aggression against a defenseless fence.
10:00 pm – Time's up!
NEXT TIME ON "24": ETHAN RESIGNS! SHOOTING! TRUCKS! HELICOPTERS! TONY! JACK! SEE YOU NEXT WEEK!
Seriously? Bio-weapons? AGAIN?!!! C'm on! My giant mutant lizard idea was better. And who's the bad guy this time? Islamo-fascists? Japanese doomsday cultists? Iranians?
No, of course not. It's Blackwater USA, thinly disguised as Starkwood, a stupid plot device ripped off from the post-apocalyptic show Jericho. Only on Jericho, they called it Ravenwood.
Yep, the big villians who're going to kill everyone are NOT foreign terrorists, but instead an American Private Military Company based off of a real-life PMC that's been doing the job our own government won't allow our soldiers to do. Namely, kill terrorists.
This show has become a big stupid liberal echo chamber. And it's become a parody of itself.
So in closing I'll just say this...
24, you went Full Retard. You jumped the shark, and you lost me, and others. You need to go be with Edgar and Bill for all eternity now. We had a good run, didn't we?
But I'm through.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Google Talk
So I'm up on Google Talk as of fifteen minutes ago. It's a cool program, and easy to set up. You can group chat and even talk, if you have a headset, which I don't yet.
Anybody who wants to get on GT and chat, sound off and create a gmail account. We'll coordinate invites and whatnot. It's a good idea.
And you Utah people get Kyle and Ken to look at this. That means you, Bon. I have some thoughts on the possibilities it presents.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
They're Running Out Of Time...
To keep me from walking away from 24 forever. There is nothing about Season 7 that isn't absolutely retarded. Well, except for Annie Wersching, who's quite adorable.
But 24 has jumped the shark, maybe lethally. Since Joel Surnow left the show the hippies have taken over and sent the whole freakin' thing right into the toilet. I can't enjoy it anymore. This season of Heroes is brilliant by comparison. Hollywood has never churned out a more unrealistic, unoriginal, and schlocktastic plot in the history of television. It's like the writers don't even care anymore.
And the stupid Official 24 Stop Global Warming campaign makes me want to slap someone at Fox. With a car.
Spoiler alert!
A tin-pot African dictator with a dozen skinnies managed to take over the White House with a handful of subguns, a power drill, and a small waterproof laptop using Windows Vista. Seriously? The White House?
I can't even enjoy Jack torturing suspects, thanks to Senator Red Foreman and Madame President Hillary Cankles Waffler. The president's equally useless and equally emotionless daughter, Mizz Whiny Princess Waffler, is now set to annoy me further in future episodes. Why oh why didn't Juma cut her eyes out? I can't wait until First Gentleman Waffler wakes up from surgery. Oh, what an emotionless reunion that will be from the Waffler women.
Bill is dead!? Why? Who on earth would willingly sacrifice his life for the likes of Madame President Hillary Cankles Waffler?
I'm sure Angelina Jolie's dad will turn out to be a greedy capitalist pig with nonsense stereotypical greedy motives that only make sense to the Hollywood worshipers of Che Guevara.
And now Jack is on the run from every government agency and terrorist group in America yet again. YYYYYAAAAAAWWWWWNNNNNNN.
And how many reset story arcs are we going to get this season? I count four so far, with no signs of stopping. And what kind of WMD's are left that they haven't used already? Nukes? Check. Chemical warfare? Check. Biological warfare? Check. With the way this season has been going, I'm guessing at this point they're going to have to dig out the giant robots or mutant lizards or reverse-engineered alien spacecraft just to keep the audience from falling asleep.
Wait, I know! Time travel! Angelina Jolie's dad and a team of Chrononaut Special Forces are going to go back in time to 1976 and kill Jack Bauer when he's only ten years old and only capable of killing half of them.
Oooo, I got it! Vampires. They're going to release an army of vampires into downtown Washington D.C.! Wait, that won't work. Washington is already filled to the top with sociopathic bloodsuckers in Brooks Brothers suits and Gucci pantsuits. They aren't going to notice a few more walking the streets.
I get the feeling I'm going to be just a pain about 24 now. It'll be annoying to all who know me.
The only way I shall continue watching this POS season is if I can do it drunk.
But 24 has jumped the shark, maybe lethally. Since Joel Surnow left the show the hippies have taken over and sent the whole freakin' thing right into the toilet. I can't enjoy it anymore. This season of Heroes is brilliant by comparison. Hollywood has never churned out a more unrealistic, unoriginal, and schlocktastic plot in the history of television. It's like the writers don't even care anymore.
And the stupid Official 24 Stop Global Warming campaign makes me want to slap someone at Fox. With a car.
Spoiler alert!
A tin-pot African dictator with a dozen skinnies managed to take over the White House with a handful of subguns, a power drill, and a small waterproof laptop using Windows Vista. Seriously? The White House?
I can't even enjoy Jack torturing suspects, thanks to Senator Red Foreman and Madame President Hillary Cankles Waffler. The president's equally useless and equally emotionless daughter, Mizz Whiny Princess Waffler, is now set to annoy me further in future episodes. Why oh why didn't Juma cut her eyes out? I can't wait until First Gentleman Waffler wakes up from surgery. Oh, what an emotionless reunion that will be from the Waffler women.
Bill is dead!? Why? Who on earth would willingly sacrifice his life for the likes of Madame President Hillary Cankles Waffler?
I'm sure Angelina Jolie's dad will turn out to be a greedy capitalist pig with nonsense stereotypical greedy motives that only make sense to the Hollywood worshipers of Che Guevara.
And now Jack is on the run from every government agency and terrorist group in America yet again. YYYYYAAAAAAWWWWWNNNNNNN.
And how many reset story arcs are we going to get this season? I count four so far, with no signs of stopping. And what kind of WMD's are left that they haven't used already? Nukes? Check. Chemical warfare? Check. Biological warfare? Check. With the way this season has been going, I'm guessing at this point they're going to have to dig out the giant robots or mutant lizards or reverse-engineered alien spacecraft just to keep the audience from falling asleep.
Wait, I know! Time travel! Angelina Jolie's dad and a team of Chrononaut Special Forces are going to go back in time to 1976 and kill Jack Bauer when he's only ten years old and only capable of killing half of them.
Oooo, I got it! Vampires. They're going to release an army of vampires into downtown Washington D.C.! Wait, that won't work. Washington is already filled to the top with sociopathic bloodsuckers in Brooks Brothers suits and Gucci pantsuits. They aren't going to notice a few more walking the streets.
I get the feeling I'm going to be just a pain about 24 now. It'll be annoying to all who know me.
The only way I shall continue watching this POS season is if I can do it drunk.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
And Now For The Guns
Steve asked me a question about carry guns today for a friend of his, and I thought I'd share my thoughts here, since I can add pictures. If guns aren't your thing, then move along. Nothing to see here.
The question was, what .357 magnum revolver is sturdy enough to shoot a lot, accurate, yet is small enough to carry concealed comfortably? The answer, I'm sorry to say, is none of them.
Now don't get me wrong, the .357 is a good round, but you're always going to have to compromise on something when it comes to a carry .357. It's the nature of the beast.
First, for a small revolver that might do the job, the Ruger SP-101 is always a good choice. The gun is accurate and sturdy. The stainless steel finish is rust-proof and it's heavy enough to dampen a lot of the recoil of the .357 magnum. It's among the most economical, too.
The ideal SP-101 is the factory model 2 1/4" bbl. with the bobbed hammer. The bobbed hammer is a necessity on an Every Day Carry (EDC) revo. The 3 1/16" gun would also be a good choice, but you'd have to get the hammer spur cut off by a gunsmith. That's the way I'd go. I like a 3" bbl for a .357 magnum.
The downside to an SP-101 is that the triggers are heavy, and the the grip frame is the weird Ruger frame that is hard to find grips for. The factory grips are not my favorite thing ever, and I'd prefer some options. The Hogue grips in the pic are too long for my liking. I'd go with Eagle Secret Service stocks myself.
Next comes the Taurus 617. This is a good, quality revolver at a decent price point. Stainless is good, but you can get it blued. Prices run about $350-ish. A great deal. You can also get this gun in .38 special as the model 817 lightweight. Honestly, I'd be tempted to go with the light .38 over the .357, but then, I don't have an overwhelming need for magnum power. I kind of prefer the controllability of a +P .38.
The nice things about the 617/817 is that they are compact guns, but pack a solid 7 rounds. They're fixed sight, so that's one less thing to worry about, and the grips are decent, although as usual I'd probably replace them with something else.
The bad part is that, like with the SP-101, you'd probably want to have the hammer spur bobbed by a gunsmith. Taurus used to offer the 617 with a bobbed hammer from the factory, but they discontinued that model. You can still find them used on occasion, so look around. Recoil will also be stiff, and the Taurus triggers are a little rough, but manageable.
One of the most squared-away guys I know of lives in Brazil and carries one of three Taurus .38's, with the 817 his favorite. I'd have to agree with him on why he likes his. The extra rounds available may mean the difference between life and death.
Now, an odd addition to this list is the Rossi 2" .357 magnum. There are a surprising number of guys who swear by their Rossi's. It's true that a Rossi is not as refined, not as accurate, nor as sturdy as one of the more expensive brands, but let's face it, a snubby will never get shot a lot and at four yards in a dark Wal-mart parking lot accuracy won't matter. The nice thing about the Rossi's is that they can be had new-in-box for under three hundred.
Recoil will be painful though. Always remember that. .38's loaded might be a better choice.
Now we come to the Smith and Wessons. The Smiths are usually considered the best, and for good reason. They are the best quality currently made. Unfortunately, this comes with a hefty price tag. But we'll go ahead and name off some of the better guns in the different sizes.
J-frame: The Model 640- Five shot, 2.5" .357 magnum. My choice in a really compact .357, if only for the fact that you can put a Barami Hip-Grip and Tyler T-grip on it. Recoil is painful.
K-Frame: The Model 65- Six shot .357. Fairly compact, three inch barrel. A handy, easy to carry gun, especially with the Barami/Tyler setup. Sadly discontinued, but can be had at scalper prices used. Recoil is unpleasant.
L-frame: The 686, 619, 620, 386 Nightguard. All great guns, all insanely expensive. My favorite of the l-frames was the 681, but finding one is almost impossible nowadays. The 619 is a good replacement, but a little biggish and also hard to find.
N-frame: the Model 27, 327 and 627 are awesome, and also insanely expensive. As in $1000+. Fuggetit. But an eight shot, 2" .357 snubby is sweet. If I had unlimited funds...
I should also mention that Taurus' Model 608 is an 8-shot, 4" .357 at a very decent price.
General Pros and Cons
Now, all this being said, here's a few points on carry revolvers.
Revolver Pros- While automatics better withstand abuse, revolvers better withstand neglect. You could load one up and put it in your sock drawer for fifty years, then pull it out with dust bunnies hanging all over it and it will probably still go bang.
Revolvers are reliable, in that if you have a bum cartridge all it takes is another pull of the trigger to line up and fire the next chamber. No messy tap-rack-bang drills here. Just pull the trigger.
They're simple and easy to use. Point and pull simplicity. The snubbies draw quickly thanks to the short barrels, and the round handles are easy to find and acquire under stress. Snubbies are also tough to disarm, and they don't bind or jam if you have to shove one up against a guy's chest and pull the trigger in a self-defense situation.
Revolver Cons- Heavy, long trigger pulls make longer shots more difficult. The hammer spur needs to be taken off of a gun meant to be concealed, as the hammer catches on clothing and flesh when pulled quickly. Ouch. The cylinders are bulky and uncomfortable when carried inside the waistband, unless you have a S&W with the Barami/Tyler set-up, which is what I use on mine. Revolvers also have limited ammo capacity, and reloading is slow. Carrying extra ammo is also a pain.
The revolver is a good choice, but the auto is better as an EDC gun. Faster shooting, faster reloading, higher capacity, more comfortable to carry, and spare ammo is easy to pack around.
But that's another subject entirely.
The question was, what .357 magnum revolver is sturdy enough to shoot a lot, accurate, yet is small enough to carry concealed comfortably? The answer, I'm sorry to say, is none of them.
Now don't get me wrong, the .357 is a good round, but you're always going to have to compromise on something when it comes to a carry .357. It's the nature of the beast.
First, for a small revolver that might do the job, the Ruger SP-101 is always a good choice. The gun is accurate and sturdy. The stainless steel finish is rust-proof and it's heavy enough to dampen a lot of the recoil of the .357 magnum. It's among the most economical, too.
The ideal SP-101 is the factory model 2 1/4" bbl. with the bobbed hammer. The bobbed hammer is a necessity on an Every Day Carry (EDC) revo. The 3 1/16" gun would also be a good choice, but you'd have to get the hammer spur cut off by a gunsmith. That's the way I'd go. I like a 3" bbl for a .357 magnum.
The downside to an SP-101 is that the triggers are heavy, and the the grip frame is the weird Ruger frame that is hard to find grips for. The factory grips are not my favorite thing ever, and I'd prefer some options. The Hogue grips in the pic are too long for my liking. I'd go with Eagle Secret Service stocks myself.
Next comes the Taurus 617. This is a good, quality revolver at a decent price point. Stainless is good, but you can get it blued. Prices run about $350-ish. A great deal. You can also get this gun in .38 special as the model 817 lightweight. Honestly, I'd be tempted to go with the light .38 over the .357, but then, I don't have an overwhelming need for magnum power. I kind of prefer the controllability of a +P .38.
The nice things about the 617/817 is that they are compact guns, but pack a solid 7 rounds. They're fixed sight, so that's one less thing to worry about, and the grips are decent, although as usual I'd probably replace them with something else.
The bad part is that, like with the SP-101, you'd probably want to have the hammer spur bobbed by a gunsmith. Taurus used to offer the 617 with a bobbed hammer from the factory, but they discontinued that model. You can still find them used on occasion, so look around. Recoil will also be stiff, and the Taurus triggers are a little rough, but manageable.
One of the most squared-away guys I know of lives in Brazil and carries one of three Taurus .38's, with the 817 his favorite. I'd have to agree with him on why he likes his. The extra rounds available may mean the difference between life and death.
Now, an odd addition to this list is the Rossi 2" .357 magnum. There are a surprising number of guys who swear by their Rossi's. It's true that a Rossi is not as refined, not as accurate, nor as sturdy as one of the more expensive brands, but let's face it, a snubby will never get shot a lot and at four yards in a dark Wal-mart parking lot accuracy won't matter. The nice thing about the Rossi's is that they can be had new-in-box for under three hundred.
Recoil will be painful though. Always remember that. .38's loaded might be a better choice.
Now we come to the Smith and Wessons. The Smiths are usually considered the best, and for good reason. They are the best quality currently made. Unfortunately, this comes with a hefty price tag. But we'll go ahead and name off some of the better guns in the different sizes.
J-frame: The Model 640- Five shot, 2.5" .357 magnum. My choice in a really compact .357, if only for the fact that you can put a Barami Hip-Grip and Tyler T-grip on it. Recoil is painful.
K-Frame: The Model 65- Six shot .357. Fairly compact, three inch barrel. A handy, easy to carry gun, especially with the Barami/Tyler setup. Sadly discontinued, but can be had at scalper prices used. Recoil is unpleasant.
L-frame: The 686, 619, 620, 386 Nightguard. All great guns, all insanely expensive. My favorite of the l-frames was the 681, but finding one is almost impossible nowadays. The 619 is a good replacement, but a little biggish and also hard to find.
N-frame: the Model 27, 327 and 627 are awesome, and also insanely expensive. As in $1000+. Fuggetit. But an eight shot, 2" .357 snubby is sweet. If I had unlimited funds...
I should also mention that Taurus' Model 608 is an 8-shot, 4" .357 at a very decent price.
General Pros and Cons
Now, all this being said, here's a few points on carry revolvers.
Revolver Pros- While automatics better withstand abuse, revolvers better withstand neglect. You could load one up and put it in your sock drawer for fifty years, then pull it out with dust bunnies hanging all over it and it will probably still go bang.
Revolvers are reliable, in that if you have a bum cartridge all it takes is another pull of the trigger to line up and fire the next chamber. No messy tap-rack-bang drills here. Just pull the trigger.
They're simple and easy to use. Point and pull simplicity. The snubbies draw quickly thanks to the short barrels, and the round handles are easy to find and acquire under stress. Snubbies are also tough to disarm, and they don't bind or jam if you have to shove one up against a guy's chest and pull the trigger in a self-defense situation.
Revolver Cons- Heavy, long trigger pulls make longer shots more difficult. The hammer spur needs to be taken off of a gun meant to be concealed, as the hammer catches on clothing and flesh when pulled quickly. Ouch. The cylinders are bulky and uncomfortable when carried inside the waistband, unless you have a S&W with the Barami/Tyler set-up, which is what I use on mine. Revolvers also have limited ammo capacity, and reloading is slow. Carrying extra ammo is also a pain.
The revolver is a good choice, but the auto is better as an EDC gun. Faster shooting, faster reloading, higher capacity, more comfortable to carry, and spare ammo is easy to pack around.
But that's another subject entirely.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Serenity NOW!
There are times when the bad news is just too bad to take. Today I'm reeling with the scope of everything that's wrong out there.
The creep of despotism, more unconstitutional gun laws, Paul Harvey's dead, Phoenix is Ground Zero in Mexico's drug wars, colleges are squelching student's civil rights, Obama is declaring war on investors, business, and entrepreneurs, AIG lost 60 Billion dollars last quarter and wants another bailout, Napalitano wants Radio Chip ID leashes for all of us, the British want global socialism, the illegals are marching in Phoenix again, California is FUBAR in every way conceivable, all of the upcoming depression news is damned near overwhelming, the government will soon be choking the life out of us, class warfare guaranteed, the eco-freaks are marching against global warming in the middle of a blizzard, the US is still giving money to terrorist groups and tyrants, and I won't even talk about my own personal troubles.
It hit me all of the sudden how angry I am. I'm in a bad, bad mood, and it's not likely to get any better anytime soon. I just want to pull my hair out in frustration.
And there isn't any answer.
All I can do now is enhance my calm...
Koom-Bye-frickin'-Ya.
The creep of despotism, more unconstitutional gun laws, Paul Harvey's dead, Phoenix is Ground Zero in Mexico's drug wars, colleges are squelching student's civil rights, Obama is declaring war on investors, business, and entrepreneurs, AIG lost 60 Billion dollars last quarter and wants another bailout, Napalitano wants Radio Chip ID leashes for all of us, the British want global socialism, the illegals are marching in Phoenix again, California is FUBAR in every way conceivable, all of the upcoming depression news is damned near overwhelming, the government will soon be choking the life out of us, class warfare guaranteed, the eco-freaks are marching against global warming in the middle of a blizzard, the US is still giving money to terrorist groups and tyrants, and I won't even talk about my own personal troubles.
It hit me all of the sudden how angry I am. I'm in a bad, bad mood, and it's not likely to get any better anytime soon. I just want to pull my hair out in frustration.
And there isn't any answer.
All I can do now is enhance my calm...
Koom-Bye-frickin'-Ya.
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