Don't Let The Door Hit You In The Ass

This is my resignation letter as the "face" of the American anti-war movement. This is not my "Checkers" moment, because I will never give up trying to help people in the world who are harmed by the empire of the good old US of A, but I am finished working in, or outside of this system. This system forcefully resists being helped and eats up the people who try to help it. I am getting out before it totally consumes me or anymore people that I love and the rest of my resources.

Good-bye America ...you are not the country that I love and I finally realized no matter how much I sacrifice, I can’t make you be that country unless you want it.

Why do I have trouble believing this?

The whole letter is here.

Memorial Day 2007

Honoring the memory of those who made the greatest sacrifice.

Sunday Ugly Gun Post

What happens when you pair up a Model 1917 action with a stock that looks like a piece of mesquite covered in gloss polyurethane?

This:






Apparently the 'smith who made this has a thing for barrel porting too. Reminds me of my SVT. There's nothing like a series of big vertical cuts in a sporting rifle barrel to add elegance:

Illinois' Loss Is Iowa's Gain.

Les Baer is moving to Iowa,thanks to the Illinois legislature's continued efforts to make criminals safer. If they're up and running this fall like they hope, I see a weekend motorcycle trip to LeClaire coming up. I'd have to do some serious scrimping to buy one of their guns, but I bet it would be worth every penny.

When Natural Selection Is Suspended

Living in the Midwest, I'm not often exposed to what happens when huge numbers of people live in large concentrations in relatively small areas. Things like a convergence of irrational, emotionally/mentally unstable, pampered professional whiners for various political causes. This seems to be a problem peculiar to advanced western nations. I think the root cause is too much success. When there is virtually guaranteed food, shelter, clothing, and security, far beyond basic living requirements, people begin looking for a deeper meaning in life. This seems to range from the extreme's of devoting one's life to religion on one side, ranging to the opposite extreme of devoting one's life to debauchery. In these people's case, it seems to be devoting their lives to paranoia and hate.

Thanks to Ace Of Spades HQ, I've been introduced to the Zombietime weblog, who seems to specialize in photographing political events (NSFW or those who have just eaten)in San Francisco. Which has reinforced my belief that I will never, ever voluntarily enter that city. A quick irony note: I'm reasonable certain the people demonstrating against Israel/zionism would be among the first imprisoned/tortured/stoned/beheaded by the people they're supporting. I've yet to see any mass diversity, gay pride, or nudist demonstrations in muslim nations.

White Trash Webpages

Hee-Haw meets the internet......

You Can't Make An Omelette........

Extreme? Probably. But somethings are worth it.

Why Would Anyone Need A Gun?

Here. This is why.

Smorgasbord O' Guns

I made it out to the range with a member of my extended family as planned. Took a Mountain Eagle in .22LR, Springfield Armory 1911A1 modified into an attempted race gun sometime before I purchased it, Smith & Wesson Model 28 Highway Patrolman with scope, and one vintage piece, a Smith & Wesson Brazilian Model 1937 (Model 1917).

Two hours of noisy fun on a beautiful Sunday afternoon. I'm finding that I enjoy shooting revolvers more over the years. Maybe because I don't have to look for the brass as much.

After cleaning all of them, I decided to break out some of the bullet molds. I use a Lee six cavity 230 grain truncated cone bullet for my .45s. I also cast a batch of 240 grain semi-wadcutters for the Ruger .44 magnum.


I haven't shot any handloads out of that yet, so I have some load development to do with these. The main goal is to have some inexpensive recreational ammunition that's easy on the hands. Recoil can be fun, but it's also nice to shoot a lot without having your hands feeling like they've been smacked with a baseball bat. I've read that the Ruger .44s have some issues with cast bullets, so we'll see how it goes, especially since these are plain base rather than gas-checked. Hell, for approximately sixteen bucks for the mold, it can't hurt to experiment.

Sunday Ugly Gun Post

"Looking around for artistic inspiration in the creation of his dream rifle, Bubba was struck by the elegant linear flow of the $3.99 pot Lurleen had brought home from Wal-Mart."

Adding To The Ranks

Got a call from an extended family member with a question about joining the local club tonight. He's sold his motorcycle (agh....bad choice) and is thinking about buying a pistol (good choice!). Being the accommodating fellow I am, I'll be packing pistols in .22, .38, 9mm, and .45 ACP for him to try out. Should make for a pleasant Sunday afternoon, and I can do some magazine sorting prior to next month's pistol match.

Some thoughts on selling your bike without intending to buy another one; apparently he's selling his because none of the people he used to ride with are doing it anymore. Apparently that's because one of them got part of his leg amputated by a stop sign sniper two years ago, and these people who started riding in middle age realized there's real risk to zipping around on two wheels while seated on the outside of your vehicle.

I would rather drive a twenty year old clapped out Yugo and still have a highway worthy bike than have a sports car and no bike at all.

I like riding alone. I follow my own schedule, if I decide to have one, without waiting for procrastinators. I don't have to keep an eye on the barely experienced weekend rider in front of me while the eighteen year old without good judgement tries to pass me six inches on my right from behind. I pick a comfortable speed, and if I see something of interest, I can pull over without being in a pileup. If you ride to be social, you could save a lot of money and discomfort by joining a local bridge club. You'll stay dryer, warmer, and have a lot less aches and pains over the long run, and you can visit all you want without yelling over a couple of engines at seventy mph.

Home

I got done with work today in the evening and went for a short ride on my bike. Off to the west I could see sheets of rain coming down, heading my way. I rode toward the west, so I could come back towards home on a nice piece of road that I enjoy before settling in for the night. Shortly after arriving at home, a thunderstorm broke. It was one of the storms were there's long, rolling thunder, and the rain comes down straight and hard, with the sky lighting up randomly.

I was going to put some more work into my house, but I have a weakness for summer thunderstorms. I decided to go out onto my favorite part of my house, the large porch added back in the 1950's. It's nearly thirty feet wide, and eight feet deep. As long as the wind isn't blowing too hard, you can sit there and watch the rain come down all evening without getting wet. Took out some Swiss cheese my wife brought back from Wisconsin this past weekend, a good cigar I brought back from Iraq in 2004, a couple bottles of good English pale ale, then sat and listened to the thunder and the rain coming down through the trees in my yard while my dogs laid next to me.

Off in the distance I can hear a train moving down the tracks. The rain is soft, the occasional car goes down the street, and I have some moments to appreciate how fortunate I am to live here, where no one cares what religious sect I belong too, or what political party I support. Where there's virtually no chance of a bomb going off in my local market, my family is remarkably safe, and my greatest concern is my son's grades.

Most of the world isn't like this. Most of the people I know aren't aware of that. For the most part, we are blissfully ignorant of the squalor that's the more common condition of the rest of the world.

I wonder how long we'll be able to keep what most of us take for granted.

Sunday Ugly Gun Post

This just makes my eyes hurt.

Saturday Pistol Match

As predicted, I did manage to bugger up something unexpected at the pistol match. It's a good, good, idea to make sure before shooting a match, that you don't grab the oldest, crappiest, beater magazines you own. I had one magazine launch a couple of rounds straight out the top of the pistol when I slapped it into the pistol, one that I had to pry out after firing it dry, and best of all, one with a failure to feed that left half the cartridge in the chamber, half in the magazine. Ended up having to tap the round back into the magazine through the barrel, then tap the cartridge straight down into the magazine before I could drop it.

Thinking about it when I got back, I realized some of these magazines are over ten years old. Guess it's time to stop being a cheap bastard and cull a few, then invest in some better quality name brand mags. Also, I shouldn't assume just because I put the magazines away a few years ago, that they were actually clean. Amazing how much better a magazine loads when it's not full of grit.

Even with the screw-ups, any day I can go out and shoot on a sunny day in the '60s with a light breeze with good company is a good day. Next month, I'll try to put on an NRA action pistol match.

Onward To Geezerism

I was sitting in our hospital lobby eating lunch with a co worker today, listening to one of our young radiology students talk about doing the hair on her fiance's son. She mentioned that she wanted to give him a mohawk, at it would make him look "cute", but the father said he didn't want his kid looking like a punk rocker. That caught my attention, and I asked her if she liked punk.

"Sure!"

How about the Ramones?

"Who?"

Yep, you sure do like punk rock.

Pistol Match Tomorrow

I'll be running a modified military format pistol match tomorrow morning at our range. This will be the first time I've tried to run one instead of merely competing, so it should prove interesting. Over the years I've learned that whenever I do something new, I'll screw something up somehow. I'm curious to see what I'll have forgotten tomorrow....if anybody shows up. I'd be happy with five to ten people. A good manageable number for getting started with.

One thing I learned from a long time ago: check the dimensions on my hand loads. Many years ago when I first started at a local IPSC match, I came out with a fresh load of .45 ACP I'd assembled the day before. I'd shot a couple matches before with no problems with my handloads, so I didn't expect any this time. My turn came, I stepped into the starting box, loaded the pistol on command.....and the slide stopped just shy of completely chambering. OK.....it took what seemed like minutes to clear that one round, although it was less. It was hung up in there pretty tight, and did take a lot of effort, but cleared it was. Start again, and....same exact result with the next round. At this point I'm just embarrassed, clear the gun, and step back to the prep area to find out what's going on. After clearing my magazines, and looking at my extra rounds in their boxes, I found I'd assembled a couple hundred rounds that were consistently over crimped just enough to prevent chambering.

Ordered two new tools the next day: a kinetic bullet puller and a .45 ACP cartridge gauge to test fit assembled rounds.

Tonight that gauge probably prevented five jams while I ran all my competition cartridges through it. One bad case mouth and four cartridge heads bulged out of spec. At least I won't have to blame cases for any failures tomorrow.

Muslim Mouse

Ah, the squeaky voice of islamofascism. Somehow, being lectured about the evil jews by a giant rodent on hydrogen just slays me.

Gosh, it's blocked by youtube, what a suprise. Fortunately, it's been reposted here. Enjoy.

Kabooms

Got some unexpected excitement last night. I'd set up to run a batch of .45 ACP on one of my progressive presses. Had a nice big container of brand new brass on my right, and home-made 230 grain truncated cone cast bullets on my left. Did a quick check of the press to make sure all the dies, etc are snug and aligned. Alright, good to go. On the fifth round, something hangs up. Sometimes there's a misalignment of a piece of brass, maybe a tipped bullet hanging up on trying to enter the seating die. Go back, check every thing again. Ok, pull the lever again and HOLY SHIT!

Ears ringing, heart rate up, little bit of smoke coming up out of the press. After waiting a minute to see if anything else interesting was going to happen, I started tearing down the press to see what happened. Found the decapping pin from the first station lodged in the flash hole of that nice new piece of brass, where it had apparently set off the primer while being seated. And the next seven primers in line behind it. Glad it quit there, as there were about another eighty primers sitting in the tray just up the line. I don't need that much excitement.

Didn't get to do much after that, had to take a quick trip to the hospital to help with someone else's problems, so the press is still waiting to reassembled. I'll give it another try tonight, hopefully with less interesting results.

Why Sweden Needs An Islamic Government Now

'Male witch' allegedly attacks roommates

STOCKHOLM, Sweden, April 25 (UPI) -- A 24-year-old man who called himself as a "male witch" may end up in prison for allegedly terrorizing two roommates for several hours in Stockholm, Sweden.

The unidentified man allegedly flew into a rage in March when his two apartment mates refused to have a drink with him. He allegedly kept one of the men at knifepoint for hours, The Local reported Wednesday.

The roommates said when they refused the offer of a drink the man tore off his lion's-tooth necklace and started howling like a wolf -- while dancing.

The man reportedly said he was part wolf and hunted one of his roommates through the streets. The roommate was ultimately left alone, but remained stuck outside in frigid temperatures in only his underwear.

The suspect allegedly returned to the apartment and detained the other man with a pair of knives -- and even tried to cut his roommate's throat.

The detained roommate said authorities showed up to arrest the male witch after he fell asleep, The Local reported.



Copyright Political Gateway 2006©
Copyright United Press International 2006

All this can be avoided, if Sweden would simply go with the Saudi model, although they don't seem have department for lycanthropy.

Selling Out Your Own In The Name Of Tolerance

How do you wrap your head around espousing tolerance, diversity, respect, etc, then turning around and telling all the women on your team "Sorry, but the opposing team is religiously offended by your presence. Off you go!". Note this line:

Church of Norway spokesman Olav Fykse Tveit said the imams refused to play against a mixed-gender team of priests because it would have gone against their beliefs in avoiding close physical contact with strange women.

Yeah, right. How about this: Fairly young, athletic females wearing shorts, running (think tissue oscillation here), competing against males, and possibly winning. If any of these female pastors has an ounce of dignity, the response by the muslim team ought to give them serious pause about the long term chances of "inter faith dialogue", and about the value their compatriots place upon them compared to the fleeting approval of the opposition.

Sunday Ugly Gun Post (NSFW)

What's with all the pink guns? And pink and chrome? I mean, c'mon, let's have some good taste here........Hey! Look at the gun, dammit!

Fun With Toys

Made it out to the range for our monthly meeting on Thursday, which I happened to have off. Having a little time between the ongoing struggle to finish the bathroom remodel and the meeting, I grabbed some rifles I haven't shot in a while. First thing to come to hand was my L1A1 with Imbel receiver. FNs are a joy to shoot; their weight is reasonable for a full size rifle, the furniture fits me well, and recoil with the 7.62 is only moderate.

Lots of history associated with the FALs too. The picture above was taken during the Falklands War in the early '80s, when both sides (British and Argentine, for those too young to remember) used them. Looking at some of the photos from that conflict, having a 7.62 semi auto looks like the way to go. Lots of large open areas. I'd rather have a rifle with a cartridge that still has some impressive thumping power at over 300+ meters, and put up with the extra weight in close quarters, than have a light-weight small caliber that does have impressive an hydrostatic effect, IF you hit tissue with high fluid content, AND within 300 meters. It's also nice to have something that will penetrate hard barriers. I've punched through railroad tie plates with 5.56 at a hundred yards, so I know what all that velocity can do, but for bricks, lumber, and concrete, I'd rather have 7.62 x 51.




Also took out a Spanish FR8 that I picked up years ago, and have only taken out once. I find 7.62 in Mauser actions to be also comfortable to shoot, compared to the usual 7.9 mm Mauser loads. One thing that is not comfortable is when I forget to alter my bolt handling for this rifle. While most Mausers have their sights in front of the receiver ring, the Spanish came up with a rear sight containing a rotating disk with apertures and v-notch sight. Conveniently located right about where ring and little fingers will pass through the same space during a speedy operation of the bolt:


Pain is a great teacher, so that only happened once. FR8s will also get you some second looks on the firing line, with the flash hider and bayonet housing mimicking a gas operated rifle while the operator cycles the bolt.

Playing with the old rifles like these gives me thoughts of vintage rifle matches. Maybe a vintage carbine match. I'll have to give it some thought after the pistol match next weekend.

Getting Anal At The Range

Keeping in the spirit of firearms owner across America (rugged, independent, no-bullshit individualists), our local range has instituted a new rule. ALL MEMBERS WILL PICK UP ALL THEIR BRASS ALL THE TIME...including these especially visually jarring .22 rimfire cartridges.

Thank goodness we've finally achieved this. I can't count the number of times my trip to the range has utterly ruined by the eyesore of brass just left lying on the ground. Especially the .22 brass. Where's our membership's compassion for Mother Earth? How does it affect the life cycle of our local ground squirrels? What would Al Gore think about our failure to recycle the precious metals we've stolen from Gaia?

I look forward to being on the committee to install video camera's London-style so we can identify and punish re-educate members who fail to account for every piece of brass they fire. I envision hiring a brass registration officer, who will register the types and amounts of rounds brought in, and compare all empty brass upon leaving to the entry record. Eventually, all members will come to realize what really matters in a shooting at the range: it's not about fun, it's about ORDER.

Gah......

Rosie O'Donnell. Ignorance personified. Listening to her talk about soldiers gives me the same feeling I get someone hacks up an oyster from deep in their lungs. A mix of disgust, nausea, and wonderment someone could be so vile in public. Oxygen thief.