So, tonight, accompanied with the creature comforts of a spicy pepper/broccoli stirfry with rice noodles and Momokawa sake (nihonshu), I watched Sanjuro (not to be confused with Sanjaya, the talentless South Asian androgyne), Akira Kurosawa's sequel to Yojimbo, the film that inspired Sergio Leone's A Fistful of Dollars.

Basically this has led me to post a comparison of the two consummate bad___es of both films.

First, Clint Eastwood:

Clint, after finally sitting down and seeing the Hallowed Triumvirate of the Wopsterns (A Fistful of Dollars, For A Few Dollars More, and The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly), is admittedly the consummate bad___. And to all who I've just offended by inventing the term "wopstern", I'll just say that I googled the word "wopstern" just now and received no hits, so I feel rather proud of my inventive conjunction of an ethnic slur and movie category. But anyway, Clint is the man. I felt the need to go out and get a poncho, but I have thus far resisted. It certainly made a nice cover garment for CCW.

But anyway, on to his original counterpart, Toshiro Mifune:

Toshiro Mifune, star of practically every Akira Kurosawa film, or at least very many of them, is the lead in both Yojimbo and Sanjuro and does an exceptionally good job portraying the original "Man With No Name". I give him special credit for the fact that my introduction to him was as the interminably annoying young Kikuchiyo in Seven Samurai. I honestly could not have pictured him as a collected, potent, and wise samurai after that performance, but Yojimbo quickly changed that preconception.

Anyway, if Clint fought Toshiro, I'd still have my money on Clint. We know that Toshiro beats the pistol-wielding Unosuke in Yojimbo, but bear in mind that Unosuke with a pistol is the equivalent of me with a paintbrush...Clint's character is a regular Leonardo. Once again, the technical superiority of the West wins out.

But that said, the points for style and originality go to Kurosawa's films and Mifune's character. You can't help liking both, though. I now find the need to put both Kurosawa's and Leone's "No Name" films on my short list to acquire.

Random Reference Time!

As I believe I mentioned earlier, saw Mr. Bean's Holiday and rather liked it! This following scene was particularly good (the latter opera-based portion of the clip). I thought it was worth passing on. Something about Rowan Atkinson's acting makes me think he could bring someone to tears from the opera stage if only he didn't look like, well, him, and if only he could sing like that. Very, very funny. To me at least, but I'm one to see humour in bally everything.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=yx1F41IdQXM

Take the following ingredients:

1. High-interest Mastercard
2. 15lb seedless watermelon
3. Nine .32 caliber lead balls

Combine them abruptly at a rate of somewhere around 1100 feet per second.

What do you get?

A Dave Ramsey "plasectomy" demonstration video

I must say, this blog has gone downhill, eh? Once a haven of firebrand rhetoric and visceral diatribes of ideological evaluation and debate where the greatest minds of an entire generation congregated to collectively solve the world's ills, now a pallid and limp exposition of whatever shallow observations and opinions I find fit to trot out before the masses, typically entertainment reviews (revues?) spiced with the occasional priceless pearl of wisdom from the grab-bag of Neufish Insight. Rather like Thom Jefferson, fresh from writing some really cracking stuff about courses of human events and such in the Declaration of Independence, starting a column in the Philadelphia Gazette where he talks about the unparalleled excellence of his supper the previous night, how much he loves to read the works of Danielle Steel, and his personal picks for the finalists of Commonwealth Idol. But as President Jefferson would be likely to say if such a downfall was pointed out to him, yah boo, sucks to you!

There's something very comforting in P.G. Wodehouse's writing. I was sitting outside last night while some beef ribs cooked over smoking embers of mesquite and apple wood, and to pass the time I picked out "Life with Jeeves" and started reading a chapter at random. While the plots are well devised, the real appeal of these books is in the style and language. Perhaps it was the respite of cool (almost cold) weather, but sitting outside (in the occasional spot of drizzling rain) reading that book was surprisingly relaxing and palliative after a day of mass hysteria at work.

I've been bitten by the 10mm bug. There are a number of loads that exceed 700, even 750 foot pounds in muzzle energy. Compared to, say, a .380ACP, which will be closer to 200 ft/lbs. .40S&W and .45ACP are more around the 400 range. The 10mm even beats out the .357 Magnum in most loads in muzzle energy. Somewhat dwarfs my previous favourite "performance caliber" .357SIG, which attempted to duplicate the muzzle energy of a .357 Mag but always fell a little short. The Tanfoglio Witness line of pistols, developed from the classic CZ-75, includes a stunning little compact steel 10mm, that has my name on it. It will no doubt be recoil-icious...750 ft/lbs one way is going to equal a decent amount of force in the opposite direction (into my hand). Still, I'm young, and you can always buy 10mm loaded to lighter pressures, similar to the .40S&W, derisively known as the .40 Short and Weak. As a little background info to those of you that are not gun geeks, the .40 Smith and Wesson is basically a shortened 10mm cartridge that was designed as a compromise because 10mm Auto was considered too powerful in recoil for FBI agents to handle...probably making allowances for smaller framed and female agents. Thus .40S&W took off (and is now one of the world's major handgun calibers) and 10mm Auto is a historical cartridge that is rare but retains a small but rabidly loyal enthusiast fanbase.

A rather silly bit of thought I just had. Puccini sounds like a kind of pasta. And Mostaccioli sounds vaguely like a 19th century composer. On that note, why do pastas all seem to have these very distinctive names, when they are all pretty much the same product pressed into different shapes? Linguine, spaghetti, fioriettini, cavatelli, rigatoni, vermicelli, etc. Very descriptive, colourful names, but it's basically same cookie dough, different cookie cutter.

With that transient flash of spell-binding brilliance behind us in the annals of blog history, we'll move on. Saw "Mr. Bean's Holiday" last weekend with my wife and parents. I liked it a lot more than I thought I might. We watched via Netflix the 1997 "Bean" movie with expectations of utter crap (compared to the original BBC shows), and it didn't really disappoint those expectations...it was moderately enjoyable, but overall a great disservice to how funny Bean actually is, with its limp attempts at an American-style plot and dialogue. Funny moments shone through occasionally, but byly and largely those were only momentary lapses of a raging crapstorm. That said, the new one is much better. The title alone suggests as much, using "Holiday" instead of "Vacation", thus not becoming a craven, pathetic attempt to translate it into a Rob Schneider style American comedy. LET BEAN BE BRITISH!

Willem Dafoe was great. One of my favourite actors, actually, ever since he shot up the vast majority of Columbia in "Clear and Present Danger" with Harrison Ford. He played an archetypal ego-obsessed art film director at the Cannes film festival. On the whole, it is a movie I would actually buy, and watch again. I'm glad Atkinson got it right this time! Maybe that's why he did this one, so he wouldn't be 0 for 1 in the movie department.

On to other movies (pretty varied blog post today, isn't it?)...I watched a pair of great movies last week, Yojimbo and A Fistful of Dollars. The latter is one of the classic Eastwood "spaghetti westerns", and it derives almost completely from the original Japanese samurai film Yojimbo by Akira Kurosawa. I actually enjoyed Yojimbo a bit more. A very dark film, not quite as good-and-evil as Seven Samurai, but more comic. Basically a lone ronin (masterless samurai) walks into a corrupt town full of evil men with two feuding factions, and he ends up seeing the two warring houses destroyed by pitting them against each other. The Clint Eastwood one is, well, a classic, and the first in the "Man with No Name" trilogy that ends with the better-known "The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly".

And Pastor Sam was good enough to pass on this interesting article, with which I generally agree:

http://www.sfpulpit.com/2007/08/24/style-or-substance-whats-the-biggest-problem-with-contemporary-church-music/

It is a very interesting look at how the writing of Christian songs has changed in the past century or so. Ironically after reading this article yesterday afternoon, I hopped into the car to go to band practice, and I decided to give 88.5 the benefit of the doubt. The song on there was "Miracle of the Moment" by Steven Chapman (no, you are not special; no, you don't people to type your middle name). Here's the first verse or so:

It's time for letting go
All of our "if onlies"
Cause we don't have a time machine

And even if we did
Would we really want to use it
Would we really want to go change everything
Cause we are who and where and what we are for now
And this is the only moment we can do anything about

So breathe it in and breathe it out
And listen to your heartbeat
There's a wonder in the here and now
It's right there in front of you
And I don't want you to miss the miracle of the moment

After reading through the lyrics I did manage to find an obscure reference to "the One", although of course it is hard to hear the capitalization of "One" when it is being sung, don't you know. Here's another great little nugget:

And if it brings you tears
Then taste them as they fall
Let them soften your heart
And if it brings you laughter
Then throw your head back
And let it go
Let it go, yeah
You gotta let it go

And listen to your heartbeat

I used to get mildly sick to my stomach when I worked a job where they had country music on all the time, just because the treacle-sweet sentiment crammed into some of those songs is just a bit off-putting occasionally. But geez, just using the above random song as a reference, Christian music has it beat, bad. It's like crossing Dr. Phil with New Age Christianity with Up With People.

It is too easy to mock this stuff. Steve Chapman talking about sodding time machines! "Would we really want to use it?" Yes, Steve, I want to use it! I want to go back in time and kick the first recording engineer that thought pop songs should have those cheesy repeating backing vocals, square in the...

Tonight I'm going to be grilling cajun-style pork sausages over apple wood. Woohoo! I've got my Zatarain's cajun mustard at the ready! I also have to find a good recipe to do some roasted potatoes with a spicy cajun kick.

FPU!

Despite that sounding vaguely like either an acronymous insult or a 1970's disco/funk outfit (Funkity Parliament Unicycle), I refer instead to Dave Ramsey's Financial Peace University, which my wife and I started (along with others at Midtown) on Sunday. As Debra alludes to on her new blog, we are mourning the loss of the Sunday afternoon nap, but the Ramsey video was actually quite funny and entertaining. My boredom threshold is higher than others (I read books on 19th century colonialism for crying out loud), and while I think the video was done in a style to make it palatable to the Easily Bored, I found it rollicking good entertainment, for a financial education video, at least.

Now from the senseless, wanton slaughter of migrating chichimurra penguins we turn to my usual blog cop-out; instead of exploring deep thoughts, portentous observations, and meaningful concepts on spiritual, philosophical, logical, or even political topics, I delve into the happy and meaningless realm of my hobbies.

First off, I should have linked this earlier, but check out Bram Wijnands, one of the highlights of our local KC jazz scene (not that I know anything of said scene):

http://www.bwjazz.com

His audio section has some great downloadable tracks, check out "Darn That Dream", "Black Orpheus", and well, pretty much all of them:

http://www.bwjazz.com/Audio-.htm

From jazz gurus we turn to the shooting sports. Debra and I trotted down to Morgan County this weekend, visiting her parents. Of course, there were two suitcases: one of clothes and other travel necessities, and one packed to the brim with ammunition. I didn't quite achieve my goal of emptying that suitcase to lighten the load for the return journey, but I did manage to release enough carbon dioxide via the combustion of Cordite and other smokeless powders to make Al Gore shed a single, solitary tear like the Crying Indian of those commercials from the 1970s. Ah, what fun. Highlights:

• The Saiga 12 is, as already known, a very, very fun gun to shoot. Very painful afterward, especially when using no method of recoil reduction and shooting 10 round magazines of magnum slugs and buckshot in rapid fire. It certainly moves a lot of lead down range in an awful hurry, but it brings to mind (or rather, to shoulder) Newton's Third Law (equal and opposite reaction).
  
• The Bersa Thunder 380 remains one of the best compromises in small handguns, with minimal recoil, easy trigger action, and overall fun-to-shoot-ness. Accurate, reliable, and just a good buy, if one can accept the slightly underpowered round it is chambered for.
• The Kel-Tec P3-AT is sort of the opposite...rather like touching off rounds in your hand, it is tricky to control but much more easy to control with repeated practice. It isn't a range gun by any stretch, but its small form factor is impressive. Less than 10oz loaded, and extremely thin and small.
• The Kel-Tec PF-9 had some strange malfunctions on its first range outing since returning from factory repair, but they were worn through as I put somewhere around 150 rounds through it; just some teething to get done, and its pretty smooth now.
• My Enfield did not in fact blow my face off, and did not even rupture a case, so I'm fairly confident it is officially safe to shoot. I didn't have the right range to sight it in properly though, so I'll do that some other time at Lake City.
• My 1967 Smith and Wesson Model 12 got a celebratory 40th birthday shoot, even if only 24 rounds or so. I added an aluminum T-grip grip extension from Tyler Manufacturing to it this time, and it really helped with the grip ergonomics, and made the trigger vastly more controllable. I'd highly recommend that to anyone shooting a stock K-frame that dislikes the grip feel. As expected, it ate every single 158gr semi-wadcutter without a hiccup. That's the nice thing about wheel guns...
• I also plinked around with my father-in-law's Ruger Single Six, and shot some .22 Short out of it. Didn't even need hearing protection shooting those things, they were practically caps, and probably were moving at BB gun velocities.

And for those still wondering:

Do Battleships Move Sideways When They Fire?

The Answer

Cleaning up some loose ends...

Seven Samurai was indeed as good as I anticipated. Not a movie for the impatient or easily bored, but highly entertaining to the patient and interested sorts, of which for the moment I was. Kyuzu was of course the admirable warrior, the ultimate expression of self-denial, self-control, and martial skill, and I found myself a little embarrassed as the young Katsushiro dives down at his feet in pathetic, dog-like worship...I thought the Kyuzu guy was pretty admirable, too! Anyway, an excellent movie. I was a little disinclined to like it at first, because it is one of those movies that borders on an "art film". Whenever you hear movies referenced by their director's name, be wary of that. Kurosawa's "Seven Samurai", etc. When people reference a director like he is an artist and the film is his artwork (Michaelangelo's David, for example) you run the high risk of subjecting yourself to poncey, heart-stoppingly dull art films. But this movie is not rife with "art" for art's sake, it is a good movie, and whatever artistic beauty or virtue it may possess were not a result of it being designed as an "art film".

Not all art movies suck, of course, but I've seen enough that do to adopt a "caveat emptor" attitude towards movies openly broadcast as principally "art" and secondarily entertainment. This movie on the other hand is highly entertaining, and has none of the pretense of a self-aware art film...you know, those films that seem to exult and rejoice in how artsy and inaccessible they are...damn the viewers, full abstraction ahead!

Still, best war movie of all time belongs to Zulu, 1964.

More mesquite experimentation in progress...so far, steaks, burgers, and jerked pork have all benefited from pure wood grilling. The jerked pork, well, I'm getting a little bored of it, and I may try a good BBQ sauce on it next time, or perhaps the salt/pepper/red pepper dry rub I've been using lately. Hot dogs tonight! All this on a $20 grill! Muahahahahaha!

Me Gusta Mesquita!
-Chapter Two-

So last night a couple 1/2lb K.C. strips met their demise on my grill. Not an entirely uncommon occurrence, but last night things were a bit more unique.

Charcoal? What charcoal? Not even all-natural lump charcoal or "charwood". No, I grilled over hefty chunks of mesquite. The smoke was awesome, let me tell you. The steak didn't magically become otherwordly in comparison (charcoal grills a mighty fine steak) but it was very good. And the fire, well, it just smelled right. I like a mildly charred steak so the high heat and flame from the mesquite worked well, and it could be regulated by closing the lid...which had the side benefit of producing a thick, aromatic smoke, much thicker than the smoke provided by my previous method (soaked mesquite chips on charcoal).

Yes, it was hot enough to boil a monkey's bum last night, and I'm sure it will be tonight, but I've got 1lb of 100% Angus ground sirloin begging to be transformed into that most classic of American dishes (ironically named for the principle port city in Germany) and no amount of heat will stop me.

On a side note, I can hardly make a review or recommendation yet, but I'm halfway through watching Kurosawa's "The Seven Samurai" and it is quite an enjoyable movie. Even though I have heard Kurosawa described as one of the most Western of Japanese directors, I find it interesting that this was a Japanese film written for Japanese audiences, at a time when world cultures were more distinct and unique than they are in the modern age of communication. So it feels a bit more authentic than a modern samurai movie might feel; the perspective is authentically Japanese and not an Americanized version. Very interesting, and well-accompanied by a glass of nigori, though you may feel a bit like a bastard with such indulgence as you watch peasants weep over the loss of a small quantity of life-giving rice.

The rest of the review will follow when I finish the movie! It is a long one, that is for sure.

The Four Commandments of Gun Safety (Again)

I. All guns are always loaded.
While this is a bit of an exaggerated rule, in that it is not always literally correct, the attitude and principle are essential. Firearms accidents are all too often connected with a naïve neglect of this rule. The famous and tragic last words: "it's not loaded". It is best to assume at any given point that a gun is loaded, and this informs later rules involving gun handling. Especially with autoloaders (semi-automatics) it is very simple for a beginner to neglect this rule. For example, if a beginner has a semi-automatic pistol, he or she can remove the loaded magazine, and it is common to then assume the pistol is unloaded. It is essential to rack the slide or bolt (preferably multiple times, with visual and tactile confirmation) to ensure there is no round in the chamber, ready to fire. So this is one of the big rules, no matter what sort of gun it is: treat all guns as if they were loaded. Resist the temptation to assume a gun has been made safe; unless you can clearly determine it at the moment, and you understand the gun enough to properly make it safe and fully unload it, assume the gun is loaded and ready to fire, and this will help keep you and those that are around you safe.

II. Do not allow your muzzle to cover anything you do not wish to destroy.
"Muzzle Control" is essential. On a range, keep the barrels pointed down range. No one likes having a gun pointed at them, and if you have a gun pointed at someone and they register displeasure, DO NOT respond with the typical "but it's not loaded" line. We don't care. No one cares that you have assumed the gun not to be loaded. We assume it is loaded (see the First Commandment) and we do not like seeing the business end of your firearm. Whether in a gun shop, or a range, keep that gun pointed in a safe direction and do not point it at people, accidentally or otherwise. Don't take a casual attitude towards muzzle control, or you will end up at best pissing off more safety-conscious shooters, and at worst accidentally discharging your gun, possibly killing someone.

III. Keep your finger off the trigger until ready to fire.
When you handle, draw, or aim a gun, the proper place for your trigger finger is NOT in the trigger guard resting on the trigger. The proper place for your finger is straight, alongside the edge of the frame, above the trigger guard. I made this mistake regularly when I first started and luckily I didn't have any negligent discharges as a lesson. Keep your trigger finger out of the trigger guard until you have your firearm trained on the target and you are ready to fire. The two times when this is the biggest problem is when handling guns in a store or elsewhere, and when drawing or reholstering a pistol. In the first situation, the gun store attendant and other customers do not at all feel at ease when you're swinging a handgun around with your finger on the trigger. If you need to feel the trigger pull, first ask permission of the owner as many people (myself included) would not want someone to be dry-firing without the use of a snap-cap. Then clear the gun and check, doublecheck, and triplecheck the gun to make sure it is unloaded, and dry fire the gun in a relatively safe direction. Don't do this if you don't really know what you are doing, because if you don't understand the design of a gun you might not clear it correctly and you really are going to prefer a click over a bang in that situation when the hammer falls. And if you try to holster or draw a pistol with your finger in the trigger guard, you may end up shooting yourself in the leg. Particularly on reholstering; I've read about a number of instances where that has happened to cops and other relatively experienced shooters, so be careful!

IV. Be sure of your target and what is beyond it.
Modern pistol and rifle cartridges are very, very powerful. You would be surprised at how many walls a pistol rounds can knife through, and still have enough velocity to severely injure or kill someone. Drywall will not stop anything larger than BBs or birdshot (if that!). Even a solid core door would be hardpressed to stop any of the major centerfire handgun and rifle cartridges. Therefore, you need to know what is beyond any target you fire upon, because you cannot assume a bullet will stop until it hits a reinforced brick wall or an earth berm. And of course, you need to be entirely certain of your target. There was a tragic case in Oregon recently where a young teen was shot by his brother when they were out target shooting, and the older brother shot at what he thought was an inanimate object, and turned out to be his brother. I know the EMT that had the unfortunate duty to respond to this accident onsite. While the tragically preventable nature of this goes without saying, it is worth mentioning to drive home the importance of this fourth rule.

So there you have it. I know I've probably mentioned the Big Four before on here but for those out there that may ever purchase or handle a firearm, it's good to remember these...assume its loaded, keep it pointed in a safe direction, keep your finger off the trigger, and be sure of your target.

That said, I can't speak highly enough of the shooting sports as recreational fun. Once safety rules are trained and ingrained, it is a lot less stressful than maybe I have given the impression of. A Ruger 10/22 makes a great plinker rifle with low recoil, minimal noise, and cheap cost of ammo...an easy recommendation for someone interested in a good target gun.

"Now take Berwhale the Avenger and go upstairs and wash your hands for lunch."

A Bit of Fry and Laurie seasons 3 and 4 are out!

In other news, there is a bit of melodrama surrounding my quest for a decent condition, shootable Lee Enfield No4. I bought one a while ago and found it to be sorely lacking. The headspace was dangerously out of spec, meaning the gun could cause severe injury to the shooter if a failure occured, and the metal finish was pretty nasty, composed mostly of a protective layer of rust. It looked like some poor Tommy on a troop ship to North Africa had accidentally dropped it over the side ("Whoopsies! Oh, Butterfingers!") and then they fished it out a half-century later.

But I gave it another shot, and this time I got a much, much better looking rifle. It is a 1943 No4MkI that was built at the Birmingham Small Arms factory (as in, BSA motorcycles), like my 1918 No1MkIII* model. It is gorgeous, with a very nice metal finish still, and a well fitted stock with a lustrous, beautiful boiled linseed oil finish. Only trouble? I had this one checked out as well, and guess what, mateys. Too much headspace! Luckily though this one has a bolt head clearly marked "0" which means it can be swapped out for a "1", "2", or "3" bolt head to decrease excess headspace. I have "1" and "2" bolt heads on order now. Once that is cleared up, I'm of the belief this will make an excellent mid-range precision rifle. Well, as excellent as a 65 year old war-horse is going to get...especially with me behind the sights.

I'm getting closer to converting my Saiga Fun-Machine (the magazine fed semi-auto 12-gauge shotgun built on a Kalashnikov pattern) to a pistol grip/folding stock layout. I have to say, I have some fun guns (the Kel-Tec PLR-16 springs to mind) but this shotgun is way too much fun to shoot. Extremely fast cycling and a nice balance. Not a gun for traditionalists and those used to the feel of a traditional shotgun, but it feels perfect to me. Here's about what I'm after:

I'm rooting for the underdog, now. Heretofore I had largely scoffed at the Republican presidential candidate Ron Paul, the dreamboat of angry libertarians, and considered him with sympathy but with realistic doubt. But now, reading more on his views, I figure if there is any time a pragmatic conservative can afford the luxury of rooting for the unwinnable ideal, it is a year before the primaries. So, I'm officially a Ron Paul backer. Here is the Wikipedia spiel about his views:

Ron Paul's political positions are largely in line with his stance as a libertarian. He claims to be a Constitutionalist and a non-interventionist. He is an advocate of free trade, fewer taxes, smaller government, and strong national sovereignty.

Paul supports reduced government spending and reduced taxes. As congressman, he has never voted to raise taxes or to approve an unbalanced budget and has also called for the abolishment of the Internal Revenue Service (IRS) and the federal income tax. Paul has been named "The Taxpayer's Best Friend" by the National Taxpayers Union every year he has been in Congress.

Paul also supports the U.S. converting to a free market health care system and increasing competition and thus opposes centralized universal health care. Paul is pro-life, yet most recently got a 65% pro-choice score from NARAL. Paul opposes "federal efforts to redefine marriage as something other than a union between one man and one woman" and has stated that he "would have voted for the Defense of Marriage Act" if he had been in Congress at the time." In addition, Paul has asserted that he does not think there should be any federal control over education and education should be handled at a local and state level. Paul opposes illegal immigration, voted "yes" on the Secure Fence Act of 2006, and opposes amnesty for illegal immigrants.

Paul supports a non-interventionist foreign policy and opposes foreign aid. He is the only 2008 Republican presidential candidate to have voted against the Iraq War Resolution in 2002. Paul voted for the Authorization for Use of Military Force which resulted in the War in Afghanistan in 2001, but suggested alternatives including giving the president authority to grant Letters of Marque and Reprisal.

I probably differ with him on foreign policy in some aspects, but I like his principled adherence to unpopular views. Hillary Clinton voted for the Iraq War and Ron Paul did not. How crazy is that?

Also, has anyone else noticed the bountiful presence of Ron Paul yard signs? It's only because it takes an angry libertarian nutjob to be riled up enough a year and a half before an election to put out a yard sign.

Last point on Ron Paul: I may be the only one that thinks this, but there is a somewhat porn-star like ring to the name. It may be "Ron", which makes me think of "Ron Burgundy", and it might be the first name for a last name. But definitely not as bookish or twerpy as "Newt". Newt used to be my front-runner but his personal history makes me trust him very, very little.

I watched "V for Vendetta" last night, motivated by its inclusion of the comic genius Stephen Fry, who managed not to ratchet up the gayness to Pride Parade level, thankfully. It was an OK movie, but a predictable "comic book" movie. The same cheesy action, dialogue, and stilted acting we expect from comic book movies. And it was quite silly with its over-reaching attempts to repaint "1984" in the context of the Patriot Act, basically manifesting itself as a typical leftist fantasy dreamworld. It had some interesting observations (don't quite remember them, tellingly) but all in all its parables would only have any meaning to those that already were predisposed to their message. So people who believe that Bill Kristol is coming in jackboots tomorrow to kick down the doors of loving, sweet, innocent gay people to cart them off to government camps to be terminated will find this movie to be a moving piece full of truth and wisdom, whereas to me, it's a fantasy designed to cater to activists with overactive imaginations. The final fight scene with the knives...pure dreamworld stuff. The idea that someone would absorb somewhere probably around 50+ full-powered pistol rounds in the torso, no matter with what sort of vest, and still be able to move at all (or even survive) is kind of laughable, and as the case showed the suspect was not stopped by shots to center mass, all trained policemen would know to retrain their aim on the head. The "Mozambique Drill" it is called, and it is commonly practiced: two to COM (center of mass) and one to the head. I know, I know, it's a comic book, and comic book heroes cannot be killed by bullets, they always fight in slow motion, and they die slowly in the arms of the heroine. Sorry, I shouldn't be so nitpicky.

Lastly, I was listening to some music this morning and I remembered the profound influence on me of the track "N.S.U." on the album "Live Cream". Not a great song persay, but as a bassist I remember the moment, listening to the track, that I kind of realized what it was about. Jack Bruce is awesome, and I had forgotten how awesome.

Trivia is dead!

That little chestnut of Neufish wisdom struck me as I was walking in the parking lot at lunch today. Seems like a brilliant little observation of mine. How privileged you must feel to be reading this blog. So of course I google the exact phrase "trivia is dead" and find no less than 1,390 hits online, of people making the same word for word observation a good deal sooner than I did. I think the first was Nietzsche...or wait, that was God. No, not God saying trivia is dead, Nietzsche saying God is dead. Or maybe trivia saying Nietzsche was dead. Anyway, I'm sure if I had a wordier phrase, such as "Google and Wikipedia have jointly forced the obsolescence of trivia as we know it", I could have googled it and found no hits, and laboured on for a few more precious seconds in the glorious yet much-mistaken appreciation and admiration of my own breathtaking genius and insight.

So, yes, there is no new thought under the sun, but that won't prevent me from jabbering on about this unoriginal insight. Google and Wikipedia have made trivia irrelevant and obsolete. A global body of knowledge is now shared and accessible, enormously dwarfing what any one man could know. Motorized transport changed walking and general manual transport from a necessary and normal facet of life into a recreational pastime, exercise, or sport, and even so now trivia is relegated to the Nerd-Squad units of high school academic teams (you can guess what I lettered in)(no, it wasn't football) and classic game shows that fewer and fewer people seem to watch as the attrition of life expectancy takes its toll on our elder generations.

The fastest runner in the world couldn't overtake me on a motorbike. Likewise, the walking brain vaults of trivia that haunt Alex Trebek's dreams could be handily defeated by a kid with a broadband connection, a laptop, and an even remotely passable ability to use search tools.

Don't forget to bring a towel!

(assumes Tennessee accent)


WE'RE DEBT FREE!


...except for the house!

The Common Thread of Jazz, Gin, and Scrambled Eggs

With a title like that it looks like I've dug myself in pretty deep. Should be some crazy fantastic writing to dig myself out of that hole.

Anyways, the Theme today is Things That You Don't Remember How Much You Like Until You Experience Them Again. Jazz is very much like that, a form of music that I find intellectually interesting but generally boring EXCEPT when I am either playing it or listening to it. I find myself avoiding the "low FM" jazz stations when perusing the radio, meekly consenting to be aurally assaulted by another overplayed rock anthem on KY/FOX, but on those times I put in my Hal Melia CD, queue up a Miles Davis MP3, or switch over to crappy low FM jazz stations, I think, wow, this is what I've been missing. You forget the appeal of jazz pretty swiftly after you listen to it. At least I do.

Likewise scrambled eggs. When you've got a freaking carton of eggs in the fridge that will soon go bad, they sound like a practical option of cheap protein that would otherwise be wasted, but not a terrifically appealing dinner. But with a sufficient amount of cracked black pepper and a fiery enough salsa, they aren't bad. Aren't exactly wonderful, so maybe a bad example.

Which brings me to my last example...Tanqueray Rangpur, a new bottling of the famous Tanqueray Gin. This variant is fairly interesting because of the new ingredients it utilises; bay leaves, ginger, and a fruit erroneously called "rangpur lime". The rangpur is a hybrid of mandarin orange and lemon from Asia that offers a lime like flavour and aroma. Tanqueray Rangpur is lower in alcohol than normal Tanqueray, and all in all, it has a very soft and pleasing palate that doesn't need to be buried in a tall glass of tonic water. I'm not an "on the rocks" guy with spirits, usually preferring them served neat at room temperature, but that doesn't extend to white spirits such as gin and vodka...this gin seems to be at its best, in my opinion, with no mixers, no lime juice, no bitters, just on the rocks. Anyway, my point is, it is one of those spirits that is quite complex and rewarding, like jazz. The aroma is subtle and balances the traditional botanicals (read: juniper, juniper, and more juniper) of a London Dry with some more complex elements. The idea of a "lime flavoured gin" could be off-putting to some people, burnt by the nasty flavoured vodkas that are all the rage now, but it should be stressed this is not the same sort of product, a distilled spirit that is then flavoured with additives...on the contrary, the flavourings are added at the traditional times, like the juniper and other botanicals, before the final distillation. So what is bottled is the pure distilled product (probably cut with water to bottle strength, naturally), not a quasi-liqueur made with a base spirit and flavourings. Enough about the process; I just wanted to illustrate that something that does not sound all that great on its face (gin straight up? not too many takers out there, am I right?) can be really surprising. If you are a fan of complex and interesting drinks, I'd recommend picking up a bottle, and pouring a couple ounces over an ice cube or two. Might surprise you, it did me!

Also the White Album. That ranks up there in albums that you start to think aren't as good as they actually are (and subsequently remember on next listening).

Now I'm listening to Paul McCartney in Wings. Yep, I'm captive to my computer...waiting for drives to finish defragging on my servers at work.

Dang it, music has gone downhill. The final outro to McCartney's "Rock Show" has the greatest piano/bass groove. Shame the poor sod is most well known for "Ebony and Ivory", "Silly Love Songs", "Let Em In", and Guns 'N Roses' visceral and grotesque butchering of "Live and Let Die". I would probably rate him as the best musician of the latter 20th Century, and no, it is not just because we Rickenbacker-wielding bassists stick together.

Maybe it is.

The Untimely Demise of "Farfour" - click for a video stream

Yes, the Jihadist Mickey Mouse was violently killed by the Interloping Jew for not selling his land. This would be a lot funnier if it wasn't so scary, that this is what kids are being taught over there. As it is, and it shouldn't be, it still is pretty dang funny.

Farfour was "martyred". A man in a low-rent Mickey Mouse suit squeaking in falsetto Arabic was "martyred" by a Jew. What will the Evil Zionist Oppressor do next? Bulldoze Goofy's doghouse? This shouldn't be funny, I know. It is sad and disturbing. But I'll call it sad, disturbing, and yet funny all the same.

The Unfortunately Necessary Disclaimer for the Irony-Deficient
The following post, like many others of this blog, contains frequent use of a semi-humourous and patently hostile tone with some similarities to the personality of Eric Cartman. Those who are incapable of discerning a mocking, frivolous tone would be advised to seek out alternative reading material, such as the Wikipedia entry on NAFTA. Those who are prone to taking offence would be advised to consult their health insurance representative to determine whether a pine-cone-up-butt-ectomy is covered by their insurance plan.

Georgia Can Stuff a Peach Where the Sun Generally Declines to Radiate

So I spent all of yesterday in Atlanta, Georgia. Got up at 3 sodding AM in the morning, got on a plane that left at 6, and I managed to make it to the convention center around 10:30. Had a boring and fruitless cruise of the competitors' booths, and then had a fruitful and helpful lunch meeting with a software developer and business partner of ours (at a food court, no less). Very nice guy, and it is great to be working with him, so that puts a blemish on an otherwise uniformly rotten day.

Got back to the airport at 4 in the afternoon. Cripes! Not to interrupt my own thought, but my bally ears just popped. Right now. Tuesday afternoon. I really hate flying! But as I was saying, I spent the next, oh, say, 7+ hours at the airport as my flight was incrementally delayed hour by hour. Got home finally at 2AM, meaning the previous 23 hours were all consumed with travel. One more hour and I'd have been awake and on work business for 24 hours straight.

Now on to Atlanta. Or, Craplanta as it will now be known. Perhaps Asslanta if it doesn't offend too many people. Because if New Jersey is the Armpit of America, At-arsing-lanta is the Butthole. It is freaking hot there all the time, they do not believe in air conditioning apparently. It wasn't even that hot outside, but inside the airport and convention center, it was freaking hot.

The hostility I developed towards Craplanta probably had something to do with being marooned there, homesick, missing my wife, and worried that I was going to have my flight canceled while my contact lenses slowly dried up into shriveled little irritants on my corneas. I've heard Craplanta is a “beautiful city”. I suppose if you are comparing one stinking manmade heap of concrete and steel to another stinking manmade heap of concrete and steel, Craplanta is not as big of a festering, pustular eyesore as some. But I just see very little beautiful about most cities, as a personal preference. The simplest and poorest little acre of woods in the country is typically so much more aesthetically appealing than these gargantuan monuments of human tastelessness packed to the brim with churning masses of angry, sweaty pedestrians and reckless, dangerous cab drivers. No thank you! Keep your annoyingly pretentious museums of modern art, keep your music halls, keep your overpriced hipster restaurants, keep your dingy streets, keep your bums, keep your “nightlife”, keep your traffic and its ceaselessly raging din, and just keep your cities. It certainly isn't as cool to do so, but I prefer the country. Good Lord, it makes me seem like one of those shallow materialistic ignorant-drone types (Ed., for sarcasm-blind readers, please note mocking, sarcastic tone) to even suggest this, but I even prefer suburbia.

So, Craplanta, if we had met on better terms and circumstances perhaps I would not be so resentful, but if a man is marooned from his home on even the most utopian paradise of an island, it still will be but a stinking boil on the face of the ocean, compared with his own land. Kansas City, I could kiss you!

Iran's Speedboat-based "Swarm" Naval Tactic

I found this interesting; the Iranians are placing their bets on the ability to "swarm" a larger vessel by deploying large quantities of small speedboats to simultaneously attack larger naval vessels.

Except for some misgivings I have about their use of anti-ship missiles (such as Exocet and others), I think this is a very flawed strategy on the Iranians' part. Torpedo boats were effective in this sort of sense 60 years ago, but nowadays with quality radar available, I can't see that these boats could get within a close enough range to pose any serious threat before being sent to the chilly depths of the sea.

If I were in the Captain's Chair at the Pentagon, this is how I would address this tactic. Develop a naval variant of the AH-64 Longbow Apache. This chopper was designed for tank hunting with the threat of a horde of T-72s pouring across the Iron Curtain into Western Europe. Why not get some use out of it now? An anti-tank helicopter would be ideally suited for "speedboat hunting", with a 30mm cannon, Hellfire guided missiles, and armor against small arms fire. Call it "The Fisherman".

The Iranians have a nice idea in theory, but I doubt it would be successful. Coordination would be too difficult, and it would probably end up being a kamikaze attack, except boats aren't fast enough to pull that off.

The NeufTown Entertainment Review

So, as you expected, I'm not going to blog about high ideals, political ideology, theological or moral concepts, or the great questions and challenges facing our nation and mankind. No! I'm going to blog about recent bits of entertainment that I found suitably amusing...sort of a “Neufertainment Tonight” but in blog format.

First off, Shakespeare in the Park, or "Free Will". We went for the first time last year, to see "Henry V", which is probably my favourite of his works (how can you not love a play that climaxes with plucky, outnumbered English infantry kicking the living snot out of a horde of arrogant French chivalric knights?). This year it was the McDonald's of Shakespeare, the Bud Lite of Shakespeare, the Velveeta of Shakespeare: Romeo and Juliet. We went last night, and it was actually quite good! A bit of a downer in the second half, you might be surprised to hear. But the gentleman who played Romeo was the same guy who played Henry/Harry last year...a role in which he was eminently more likable. Romeo is just an annoying character, a melodramatic teenager with rich parents that would have been better off getting a job, than spending all his days pining, wailing, and gnashing his teeth over whatever female his hormones happen to be targeting at the moment. As my wife points out, he's rather like Wodehouse's “Bingo Little” character, an interminably shifting character apt to profess the most extreme undying, woeful, and unrequited loves for a girl, only to turn on a dime and do likewise for the next thing to cross his path sans a Y chromosome. I rather liked Bingo, because at least he was cheery and we weren't supposed to identify with him, we were supposed to laugh at Bertie's exasperation at dealing with such a vacillating, emotional fellow. I suppose that is Mercutio's role? Speaking of, good lord, you never quite “get” how bawdy these plays are until you see them. Somehow when a lecherous, drunken character delivers a line (to roaring laughter) complete with hip thrusts, it puts a bit more of an off-colour nature to some of the lines!

On to more specialized (read: less interesting/appealing) bits o' entertainment. First off, and I've been meaning to write copious praise and adulation of this film for several weeks, but the film “Zulu” has skyrocketed to being one of my all-time favourites. It is based in South Africa in 1879, and chronicles the incredible and unlikely defence at the Battle of Rorke's Drift, following on the heels of the tremendous Zulu victory/British defeat at Isandlhwana. This particular film is a thousand times better than the later “Zulu Dawn”. It is silly how many times I have watched this film in the past couple months.

Thomas Pakenham's “The Boer War” is a good volume for history buffs. I've taken a tremendously long time reading it, because I keep it at work and take about 10 minutes at most to read it, on the occasion that I am eating in the lunch room. So it has been a while. It is exhaustive, and quite easy to lose track of names and places, but it remains a very interesting history that puts much-needed context behind my introduction to the Second Boer War, which was the movie “Breaker Morant”.

Anybody have a Martini-Henry taking up space in their attic? I've got $20 and I'll gladly take it off your hands!

Well, it was worth a shot.

Oh, and I found out that the Lee-Enfield No4MkI that I purchased (WWII British rifle) is unsafe to fire. It has an extreme headspace issue, meaning it has too much space between the bolt face and the chambered cartridge when the bolt is closed, which can cause ruptured cases and general bad things for any human faces that might be right there in close proximity to the bolt (such as the face belonging to the individual aiming and firing the rifle). The wonderful historical value notwithstanding, I don't wish to have a bolt implanted into my eye socket, that would just be a bad day. After informing them what my gunsmith told me, the swines that sold it to me insisted it was safe, and that all Lee Enfields were like this. I did my homework, and they were very, very wrong. They offered to take it back, but I decided against it for the following reasons:

1. I would have paid for the rifle ($130), shipping ($15), FFL transfer fee ($25), gunsmith safety check ($25), and return shipping ($15+), and the only thing I would get in return is the rifle cost; I'd have to just eat the rest.

2. I have sort of an adoptive spirit with these guns...even if unsafe as a shooter, they are great pieces of history for a collector, and I felt somewhat attached to this poor, sick rifle.

3. Having this rifle unmodified would give me a standard, stock No4 for collection purposes (I was planning on mounting a scope and using it as a precision rifle).

4. If I returned it, they would just sell it to someone else since they refused to acknowledge there was a problem. I don't want someone blowing their head off with this gun; at least it is safe with me as I know not to shoot it.

There you are, I've justified not returning it. It'll just go into retirement, like a war horse retiring in its later years to green pastures.

GOTCHA

Edwin R. Hall, 26, from Olathe, KS

Hats off to the police for catching this sorry bugger so quickly. We'll see if federal charges ensue.

Do You Know This Scumbag?

Wanted for questioning involving the Kelsey Smith case in Kansas City. He's not officially a suspect yet, but from initial evidence he exhibits suspicious behavior, and he has not come forward yet to turn himself in (unlikely he could still be unaware he is wanted by this time).

Rushed judgments are a poor idea on the battlefield, and an even poorer idea in civilian justice, but if ever there were a proper candidate for Rule Three-Oh-Three, this may indeed be him.


Got a box with your (as yet unknown, but give us time) name on it, buddy!

In more practical terms, if you know this at-best-stupid-prat-at-worst-evil-monster, call the TIPS hotline, 816-474-TIPS (8477).

I am spoiled bloody rotten.

Seriously, I am. Outpourings of benevolent generosity from familial relations on the occasion of my at-long-last graduation have been greatly appreciated, and if you, gentle reader, are one of said familial relations let me apologise for the unforgivable tardiness of a forthcoming note to you of thanks and appreciation.

If you've been following my blog of late, you will have no doubt what I just blew most of this money on.

First off, after a year of waiting, and after 9 months being on a waiting list, I finally purchased the new Kel-Tec PF-9. The handgun of choice for midgets, hobbits, and leprechauns. Now, I know the P3-AT is smaller, but this is a full-power 9x19mm Parabellum cartridge, not the lighter, smaller .380 ACP. I tell you, this is a tiny, tiny pistol. I've got four boxes of ammunition to feed it tomorrow, as my wife (who has taken a keen liking to the dimunitive PF-9) and I venture down to sunny Morgan County, Missouri to visit her parents on a "Guncation".

And next week, once I acquire my second transfer permit from the illustrious and inimitable Sheriff of Jackson County, I'll be back up to Denny's Guns in NKC to pick up a P3-AT, the supremely tiny pocket pistol from Kel-Tec.

And that's not all! I have ordered a 1940s British Lee Enfield SMLE No4Mk1 bolt action military surplus rifle, in .303 British. I'm praying for a nice shiny bore with crisp rifling, and I have a Bushnell 3-9x 40mm variable power scope to mount on it, for some accurate target shooting. I've wanted a No4 for a long time, to round out my Enfield collection (or rather to start it, as I only have one other Enfield, a No1MkIII), so this gives me a chance to 1.) get a good scoped rifle for target practice 2.) own another Enfield because they are so dang cool and 3.) have another milsurp project that will no doubt leave me covered in cosmolene and Hoppes No9.

I've blown my quota for one gun a year wide, wide open. Two (three if you include a gift) last year, and four this year (Saiga 12-gauge, PF-9, P3-AT, Enfield No4). I'm going to slow down, because if I keep acquiring guns I both will not have space to store them, and will not be able to afford to feed them all ammo.

Yep, this is as deep as I'm going in this post. You know, the kind of intellectually stimulating drivel you all know, love, and expect. Cheers all!