Dinner Conversations

Another evening, another delightful meal. My wife Bridget does a wonderful job of balancing nutritional requirements against Samantha's medical limitations (i.e., no tomatoes, no dairy, never any foods too high in galactose).

Prompted by who-knows-what, I remembered a book I had seen, possibly during my book store employment phase, about pre-Columbian cooking. No, not what the Mesoamericans ate, but what the Europeans ate before Columbus sailed to the New World and opened a new frontier of cooking and eating and taste.

I'm a garbage gourmand on a non-stop "see food" diet. Samantha, thank God, can't eat sweet breads, so fun things like kidneys and brains will never cross our plates, but beef and potatoes and typical American vegetables (carrots, peas, onions) do. Yum!

So what did the Europeans eat before Columbus? Remember, this was a dinner conversation, so it drifted, rather than flowed. We came up with:

--domesticated meat: beef, pork, chicken, fish (yeah, yeah, what're you gonna do, it's gotta go somewhere)

--game of all kinds: venison, boar, birds, rabbit

--fruit: apples, pears, grapes, berries. Bananas? (Nope.) And no tomatoes!

--vegetables: carrots, turnips, onions--but no potatoes! That and corn are New World foods! No sweet potatoes? No strawberries?

--grains: wheat, oats, barley. Rice?

From the "Home and Garden section of the New York Times, October 9 1991":

WHEN it comes to Columbus, Luisa di Giovanni, a biologist and historian, is less than sanguine. Ms. di Giovanni, a native of Genoa, will acknowledge that the foods brought back from the New World enriched the diets of various countries, but Italy benefited less than others.

As far as she's concerned (the tomato notwithstanding), Columbus's impact has been greatly exaggerated in his native land.

"It could be argued that in the exchange of foods, the newly discovered lands gained more than they gave," said Ms. di Giovanni. "Europe had a much richer variety of food than the Americas. We already had plenty of grains like wheat, rice, millet, rye and barley, so corn did not have that much impact, except to the poor. We also had domesticated animals, which we introduced to the Americas, plus plenty of fruits and vegetables."

To prove her point, and to put a somewhat different spin on the hoopla for the upcoming quincentennial of Columbus's voyage, she has devised an eight-course menu of dishes typical of 14th- and 15th-century Italy. The $45 meal is being served this week at Caffe Bondi, 7 West 20th Street in Manhattan...

Work on this week's pre-Columbian menu began about a year ago. (That's what happens when academics become interested in food.) Sure, there will be pasta, but no tomatoes. Potatoes, beans, sweet and hot peppers, turkey and chocolate are also noticeably absent from the meal.

"Potatoes have never been as important in our diet as in that of other European countries," said Ms. di Giovanni, "and the role of the tomato is exaggerated, especially by Americans whose idea of Italian food is mainly Neapolitan. The fact is that neither of these vegetables gained any acceptance in Europe much before the 18th century."

The meal will begin with fresh fruit -- grapes and figs -- because Ms. di Giovanni said doctors of Columbus's time thought raw fruit could only be eaten before a meal. And it ends not with coffee, which did not become popular in Europe until the 17th century, but with herbs and honey.

She said the difference between today's table and the historical example she developed for Caffe Bondi has more to do with how foods were prepared, combined and presented than with the ingredients. For example, a rich chicken soup is seasoned with pungent spices and thickened with ground almonds and Parmesan cheese. The bread is fragrant with rosemary and studded with raisins. A pudding-like concoction of sweetened and spiced rice with chicken and almond milk called bramagere is served as the third course.

Fried ravioli with a pork-and-cheese filling comes with a dusting of sugar; quail wrapped in pancetta and stuffed with pomegranate seeds has quince jam on the side; fritters of eel with dried fruits and herbs are accompanied by a mellow carrot confit. Wines like Chianti, which Ms. di Giovanni said was first documented around 1400, are served with the dinner but not watered, spiced or sweetened as they probably were in the old days.

The dessert, a kind of fried custard with sweet preserved green squash jam (squash-like edible gourds were common in pre-Columbian Europe), was not much sweeter than the other dishes.

MAS 1936

Went out and about this past Monday, wound up at Martin B. Rettig's in Culver City, prowling the rifles on the floor, looking for something <$250 OTD.

Found a MAS 1936--which meant nothing to me. After a day or so on the web, searching a ton of military surplus forums, I know quite a bit more.

It's a French bolt action in 7.5x54mm. Ammo suitable to shoot at Angeles Range (lead or copper-plated lead (FMJ))is not easy or cheap to find ("load your own!" seems to be the common retort), the stock is a little short (a rubber boot from the 36/51 grenade launcher update is available), and only the rear sight adjusts via an almost impossible-to-find set of replacement leaves.

It's $189.99, about $234 OTD.

But, it can be rechambered to 7.62x51, which is to say, .308 Winchester.

Hmm...

UPDATE: After I found the MAS at Rettig's, I ran up to Santa Fe Gun Galeria in Palmdale to see what they had. I had a vague memory that maybe they might have 7.5 MAS ammo...

And they're closed, Sunday and Monday. Well...spit.

So I ran back up there today, they were open, and sure enough they had 7.5 MAS. Two kinds! One was in small, anonymous packages with Arabic writing--probably Syrian mil-surplus steel-jacketed, but the other was blue box FNM, non-magnetic! $17 for 20 rounds, 4 boxes available with no certainity of getting anymore in stock. Ever.

So there you have it. A French mil-surp weapon at one store, commercial ammo at another. And only 60 miles apart.

IN CONGRESS, JULY 4, 1776

The unanimous Declaration of the thirteen united States of America

When in the Course of human events it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. — That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, — That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shewn that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security. — Such has been the patient sufferance of these Colonies; and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter their former Systems of Government. The history of the present King of Great Britain is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute Tyranny over these States. To prove this, let Facts be submitted to a candid world.

He has refused his Assent to Laws, the most wholesome and necessary for the public good.

He has forbidden his Governors to pass Laws of immediate and pressing importance, unless suspended in their operation till his Assent should be obtained; and when so suspended, he has utterly neglected to attend to them.

He has refused to pass other Laws for the accommodation of large districts of people, unless those people would relinquish the right of Representation in the Legislature, a right inestimable to them and formidable to tyrants only.

He has called together legislative bodies at places unusual, uncomfortable, and distant from the depository of their Public Records, for the sole purpose of fatiguing them into compliance with his measures.

He has dissolved Representative Houses repeatedly, for opposing with manly firmness his invasions on the rights of the people.

He has refused for a long time, after such dissolutions, to cause others to be elected, whereby the Legislative Powers, incapable of Annihilation, have returned to the People at large for their exercise; the State remaining in the mean time exposed to all the dangers of invasion from without, and convulsions within.

He has endeavoured to prevent the population of these States; for that purpose obstructing the Laws for Naturalization of Foreigners; refusing to pass others to encourage their migrations hither, and raising the conditions of new Appropriations of Lands.

He has obstructed the Administration of Justice by refusing his Assent to Laws for establishing Judiciary Powers.

He has made Judges dependent on his Will alone for the tenure of their offices, and the amount and payment of their salaries.

He has erected a multitude of New Offices, and sent hither swarms of Officers to harass our people and eat out their substance.

He has kept among us, in times of peace, Standing Armies without the Consent of our legislatures.

He has affected to render the Military independent of and superior to the Civil Power.

He has combined with others to subject us to a jurisdiction foreign to our constitution, and unacknowledged by our laws; giving his Assent to their Acts of pretended Legislation:

For quartering large bodies of armed troops among us:

For protecting them, by a mock Trial from punishment for any Murders which they should commit on the Inhabitants of these States:

For cutting off our Trade with all parts of the world:

For imposing Taxes on us without our Consent:

For depriving us in many cases, of the benefit of Trial by Jury:

For transporting us beyond Seas to be tried for pretended offences:

For abolishing the free System of English Laws in a neighbouring Province, establishing therein an Arbitrary government, and enlarging its Boundaries so as to render it at once an example and fit instrument for introducing the same absolute rule into these Colonies

For taking away our Charters, abolishing our most valuable Laws and altering fundamentally the Forms of our Governments:

For suspending our own Legislatures, and declaring themselves invested with power to legislate for us in all cases whatsoever.

He has abdicated Government here, by declaring us out of his Protection and waging War against us.

He has plundered our seas, ravaged our coasts, burnt our towns, and destroyed the lives of our people.

He is at this time transporting large Armies of foreign Mercenaries to compleat the works of death, desolation, and tyranny, already begun with circumstances of Cruelty & Perfidy scarcely paralleled in the most barbarous ages, and totally unworthy the Head of a civilized nation.

He has constrained our fellow Citizens taken Captive on the high Seas to bear Arms against their Country, to become the executioners of their friends and Brethren, or to fall themselves by their Hands.

He has excited domestic insurrections amongst us, and has endeavoured to bring on the inhabitants of our frontiers, the merciless Indian Savages whose known rule of warfare, is an undistinguished destruction of all ages, sexes and conditions.

In every stage of these Oppressions We have Petitioned for Redress in the most humble terms: Our repeated Petitions have been answered only by repeated injury. A Prince, whose character is thus marked by every act which may define a Tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a free people.

Nor have We been wanting in attentions to our British brethren. We have warned them from time to time of attempts by their legislature to extend an unwarrantable jurisdiction over us. We have reminded them of the circumstances of our emigration and settlement here. We have appealed to their native justice and magnanimity, and we have conjured them by the ties of our common kindred to disavow these usurpations, which would inevitably interrupt our connections and correspondence. They too have been deaf to the voice of justice and of consanguinity. We must, therefore, acquiesce in the necessity, which denounces our Separation, and hold them, as we hold the rest of mankind, Enemies in War, in Peace Friends.

We, therefore, the Representatives of the united States of America, in General Congress, Assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the Name, and by Authority of the good People of these Colonies, solemnly publish and declare, That these united Colonies are, and of Right ought to be Free and Independent States, that they are Absolved from all Allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political connection between them and the State of Great Britain, is and ought to be totally dissolved; and that as Free and Independent States, they have full Power to levy War, conclude Peace, contract Alliances, establish Commerce, and to do all other Acts and Things which Independent States may of right do. — And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honor.

— John Hancock

New Hampshire:
Josiah Bartlett, William Whipple, Matthew Thornton

Massachusetts:
John Hancock, Samuel Adams, John Adams, Robert Treat Paine, Elbridge Gerry

Rhode Island:
Stephen Hopkins, William Ellery

Connecticut:
Roger Sherman, Samuel Huntington, William Williams, Oliver Wolcott

New York:
William Floyd, Philip Livingston, Francis Lewis, Lewis Morris

New Jersey:
Richard Stockton, John Witherspoon, Francis Hopkinson, John Hart, Abraham Clark

Pennsylvania:
Robert Morris, Benjamin Rush, Benjamin Franklin, John Morton, George Clymer, James Smith, George Taylor, James Wilson, George Ross

Delaware:
Caesar Rodney, George Read, Thomas McKean

Maryland:
Samuel Chase, William Paca, Thomas Stone, Charles Carroll of Carrollton

Virginia:
George Wythe, Richard Henry Lee, Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Harrison, Thomas Nelson, Jr., Francis Lightfoot Lee, Carter Braxton

North Carolina:
William Hooper, Joseph Hewes, John Penn

South Carolina:
Edward Rutledge, Thomas Heyward, Jr., Thomas Lynch, Jr., Arthur Middleton

Georgia:
Button Gwinnett, Lyman Hall, George Walton

From http://www.ushistory.org/declaration/document/index.htm (but I had to go in via Google's cache).

Quote for the day

Talking to gun control advocates is like talking to five year-olds. Tell a five-year-old it's time for bed, and he'll say "No." Ask why not, and he'll say "because." That's his whole reasoning, unfounded - "because". But that's a subject for another post.

from Home on the Range

Saturday Poetry

image from http://www.gutenberg.org/files/16786/16786-h/16786-h.htm

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882)

from http://www.sonnets.org/longfell.htm

Mezzo Cummin

Half of my life is gone, and I have let
The years slip from me and have not fulfilled
The asperations of my youth, to build
Some tower of song with lofty parapet.
Not indolence, nor pleasure, nor the fret
Of restless passions that would not be stilled,
But sorrow, and a care that almost killed,
Kept me from what I may accomplish yet;
Though, half-way up the hill, I see the Past
Lying beneath me with its sounds and sights,--
A city in the twilight dim and vast,
With smoking roofs, soft bells, and gleaming lights,--
And hear above me on the autumnal blast
The cataract of Death far thundering from the heights.

"You Must Be A Gentleman"

Over at Seraphic Press Robert J. Avrech has a post up about Jews expelled from Algiers.

"How long did your family live in Algeria?"

My friend sits back and ponders a moment: “Oh, since the churban, [586 BCE] the Destruction of the Temple. That's when our family made its way from Babylon to Algeria.”

The story has quite a satisfactory ending, hence the title of my post. Enjoy.

Pondering the Unthinkable

My daughter goes to a private school. As a parent, I volunteer my time there and so I'm fairly familiar with the physical layout of the school.

The front door of the school opens directly onto the administrative office. Someone opens that door, and steps inside.

*boom* *boom*

That was the two women at the front desks. They're dead or dying. No one has called 911.

*boom*

That was the large window that glasses in the director's office. He's dead or wounded.

*boom*

That was anyone at the copier, or anyone coming in from the hallway.

Three steps into the hallway and one step to the right is a K/1 classroom. Six steps to the left is a 1/2 classroom.

Is someone scrambling for a phone?

Farther down the hall are two K/1 classrooms that face each other. There are two more classrooms past them.

A teacher or teacher's aide might be opening a door, looking out in the hall.

At the end of the hall, a left turn takes you out onto a fenced-off playground. There's an exit gate in the fence.

This could be a lunatic, a vengeful ex-spouse or ex-lover, a gang banger. And unless they choose to take hostages, it's all over in less than a minute.

If I'm there, I'm probably dead in the hallway or the office. And there's nothing I could do to change the outcome. Aside from response time issues, California is a "may issue" state; the city of Los Angeles defers to the county of Los Angeles, and both of them are "won't issue".

I'm glad I often tell my daughter that I love her.

So. I'm at the mercy of fate, just like everyone else.

Mere Peace

When I drive my daughter to school, at some point, she's there and I'm on my way back. On the classical station, I've been hearing ads between the music for a performance of the local master chorale.

November 18th, the chorale will present 3 pieces: Haydn's Mass in Time of War; Andriessen's The City of Dis or: The Ship of Fools, the first section of a five-part opera-in-progress based on Dante's La Commedia; and Tormis's God Protect Us From War.

From the program notes:

Opening in a minor key, the gloomy timpani again utter frenzied throbbings when the music suddenly blossoms with trumpet fanfares, a dance-like tempo accelerating as the chorus insistently intones, “Dona nobis pacem,” an entreaty for peace. (Haydn's Mass)

And:

Featuring chant-like melodic motifs and the underlying tones of a gong, the impression of an ancient prayer wrapped in a mysterious veneer comforts us... (Tormis's God Protect Us From War)

Peace. Comfort. The absence of war, conflict, disagreement. Consensus.

Not victory. Oh, God no. Not success. Not even prayers for the well-being of the troops.

Peace. As in, "Bring the troops home!" As in, "No blood for oil!" As in, "peace in our time".

How is that peace maintained? By whom? At what cost?

"Don't know" And "don't care"

But peace is good! And right! And must be made now! So that the peaceful lotus-eaters are not disturbed in their dreams of...peace.

Interesting. I had not realized that peace is an artifact, made by man. I'm not saying that war is the natural state of mankind, but peace is something made, something that does not exist naturally, without support, without attention paid to it, without the infrastructure to wage war...to make peace.

This selection of music for the performance is an affirmation--a re-statement--of the obligatory, not-up-for-discussion chant "Peace good! War bad! Peace good!" There's no consideration, no room for consideration, of how peace is made. And kept.

Presidential Pick

I'm conservative, so I look to the Republicans for my salvation (if there were a truly conservative party in this race, I'd be there in a shot).

I heard some clips today from Sunday's ABC debate (Sunday morning? Sheesh.) on the Hugh Hewitt show today. Romney sounds grave and concerned, but Giuliani sounds sharp and responsive. Aggressive, even, against the moderator George Stephanopoulos.

I don't know the man, only his recent history as mayor of NYC, and his 9/11 experience. I have to go by what other conservatives say about or present of him--I'll most likely vote for Rudy Giuliani for President.

Do I like his stance on gun rights? No.

Do I like his stance on the war on terror? Yes.

Do I trust him more than any other candidate? Trust how? He's a politician running for office. When he's not kissing babies, he's stealing their lollipops. He'll say what he thinks will get him elected.

It doesn't matter who wins--we're all fucked.

Kenn Blanchard - A Reply

Kenn Blanchard has a post up titled Violence in Our Society. He asks several questions that I'd like to try to reply to:

How can we stop the violence in our society?

I believe that violence is part of the human nature; so is the seeking after of truth and salvation. I don't believe that it can be stopped, only struggled with.

I see two ways of combatting violence: 1) Inappropriate violence must be met with sudden and overwhelming violence in response, and 2) the unchecked and uneducated impulse towards violence must be controlled and re-directed into honest pride.

But social engineering is a road paved with good intentions, viz. the War on Poverty.

What can we do to repair our communities without given [sic] up the essential liberties that made this a great nation?

I can't comment to this without knowing more about who 'we' and 'our communities' are, as well as the 'essential liberties'.

What are you willing to do to protect your family from violence?

An interesting question! While I think I'm willing to do violence to others to protect my family, I've never been put to that test and God willing, I never will.

But what about non-violent methods? I'm not active in my neighborhood (not 'community'), I don't belong to a church, I don't set a good example for boys and young men by leading a Boy Scout troop. I'm pretty much a schlub.

What are your working in to make that a reality?

Again, I'm a schlub.

Can we stop violence?

As I said already, it's part of human nature. It's part of my nature, yet it does not drive me or consume me. I'm untrained in martial mayhem, yet big enough to do serious damage to small, weak or unsuspecting victims--but I don't. I own guns and have enough ammunition on-hand to kill a dozen, a score, a hundred--but I don't.

Why not?

Because I have more tools in my emotional and intellectual toolbox than only violence. The urge to do violence is bound closely to feeling disrespected; I have other ways to respond to the feelings of being dismissed, ignored, or looked down upon.

But I would not want to delete my ability to do violence, because I might need it at some point. I trust my own judgement as to whether I need to be violent. I don't trust everyone else's judgement about their need to be violent and spend most of my time in Condition Yellow.

Mr. Blanchard continues with a long ranty paragraph about rabid PETA advocates, unsocialized dogs, ignored children, the failure of parenting, time-saving devices, the lack of interpersonal skills, and the exploitation of the lonely and confused.

Children and the elderly have become the targets of everything wicked. Why because their innocence offends the very nature of the world today. What are you going to do about it?

Children and the elderly are always targets of the wicked, because they are easy prey. I look out for my own family, and to the extent that I can, I keep an eye on those around me as well. But I can't save everybody and I refuse to feel shame for not being able to do what I am incapable of doing.

Thoughts On Owning A Nuclear Weapon

Disclaimer: I Am Not A Philosopher.

When discussing the Second Amendment with an anti, the question of whether individuals should be allowed to possess nuclear weapon often comes up, dragged in as the ultimate absurdity.

I am comfortable with my understanding and/or interpretation of the Second Amendment, which is that the individual should be equipped comparably ("well regulated") to a regular soldier (modern light infantry).

To me, this means at least a semi-automatic rifle in a military caliber. Full auto or select fire? Sure. Grenade launcher? Sure. Mortar? Eh...yeah, okay. Heavy machine gun? Um...okay. 20mm cannon? Yikes...but yes.

Artillery? No. A tank? Strangely enough, yes. Rocket launcher? No. Bazooka or TOW? Yes. Flamethrower? I honestly don't know.

I see that my acceptance or rejection of the above seems to be based on the individual pulling the trigger. A firearm must be aimed at a chosen target by the shooter for the weapon to be effective.

A mortar is not aimed the same way, nor as precisely. I believe a tank is aimed precisely and so I have no quarrel with ownership of one (or hell, even several).

But drive one into my neighborhood and I'm going to be uncomfortable with that, to the point of looking for a bazooka or other tank-killer. To me, taking a tank into a residential or business area is a declaration of intent to cause great harm, out of proportion to your individual capability.

So what about a nuclear weapon?

Is it a defensive weapon? Not really. It's a terror weapon, a weapon of mass destruction that kills out of proportion to its existence, its...quantity.

So, should individuals be allowed to possess nuclear weapons?

No, in the strongest possible terms. Like a tank driving down a neighborhood street, individual possession of nuclear weapons is a statement of intent to cause great harm, way out of proportion to the individual's capability otherwise. It should be an automatic death sentence for the individual, no appeal, no stay of execution, shoot on sight.

"But what if he's got a deadman switch and kills lots of people even when he's dead?"

I know that all of those deaths would be a horrible tragedy. But you can't negotiate with Evil, and that's what individual possession is.

And I realize that this is close to what the antis believe, that guns kill out of proportion to the individual's capability, and that they (and those who possess them) are Evil, and that only the police or the military should have guns.

But the police and the military have no secret gift or talent that makes them moral or just or especially qualified to deal with Evil. Bad Guys with guns are Evil and can only be stopped by Good Guys with guns.

IANAP.

Saturday Poetry

Alexander Pushkin (1799-1837)

Exegi Monumentum

I have erected a monument to myself
Not built by hands; the track of it, though trodden
By the people, shall not become overgrown,
And it stands higher than Alexander's column.

I shall not wholly die. In my sacred lyre
My soul shall outlive my dust and escape corruption--
And I shall be famed so long as underneath
The moon a single poet remains alive.

I shall be noised abroad through all great Russia,
Her innumerable tongues shall speak my name:
The tongue of the Slavs' proud grandson, the Finn, and now
The wild Tungus and Kalmyk, the steppes' friend.

In centuries to come I shall be loved by the people
For having awakened noble thoughts with my lyre,
For having glorified freedom in my harsh age
And called for mercy towards the fallen.

Be attentive, Muse, to the commandments of God;
Fearing no insult, asking for no crown,
Receive with indifference both flattery and slander,
And do not argue with a fool.

Glendale Gun Show

The Glendale Gun Show http://www.glendalegunshow.com is this weekend, August 12 - 13, Saturday 9 - 5, Sunday 9 - 4, at the Glendale Civic Auditorium.

Free parking, cheap admission, some decent stuff here and there. I need to replace the American Eagle ammo I bought at the Ventura gun show, since it won't reliably cycle my .22 rifle. I probably need to clean the gun, too.

Plus I need more Wolf for the SKS, and maybe some 185 grain .45. Knives are always good to look for, plus a cotton web sling for the SKS. Maybe another piston, too.

Update: Well, that was disappointing. The same people selling the same stuff for the same prices, maybe a little more (Wolf ammo). Couldn't find anything that I was looking for at a decent price and I didn't much care for any of the other choices.

Has the Glendale Gun Show run its course? Hmmph.

Political campaign material

Since tomorrow is a statewide election day, we here at Casa Mr. Bruce have been receiving pounds of mail every day about the virtues and talents and importance of various people running for office.

In the midst of all this drum-pounding (dead horse beating?), one mailer really stands out as an example of the mindset of the Democrats. Senator Jackie Spier (San Mateo county) is running for Lt. Governor. One of her quotes reads: "I rely on my own outrage meter...I figure if it upsets me, it's likely to upset the average person in my district, and it's an issue worth taking on."

It's hard for me to express my dismay and disgust coherently. Based on only her mailer, she has no spine, no vision of government's role in anyone's life and having gotten on board a gravy train, has no desire to get off.

I'd like to see somebody campaign on the basis of what laws they have successfully repealed--that would sure get my attention.

Review: Joss Whedon's Firefly

Firefly Boxed Set review

I got the Firefly boxed set for my birthday last March, and I'm just now starting to watch it. I had seen the first episode ("Train Job") when it aired on Fox and I liked it.

Why am I not liking it now?

I've watched the first two discs and I'm not satisfied. Mal, the official hero of the series, isn't heroic. He's just angry. The official mystery passenger, River, is just a crazy homeless person, albeit government-created.

Shepherd Book is the most interesting person. He's also the oldest. Think there's a connection?

Joss Whedon's vision of the future is nasty and brutish. The Alliance (aka "the government") has no goals or purpose, democracy is nowhere to be seen, religion is not viewed positively (Mal's "Just don't say it (grace) out loud"), and capitalism has been replaced by thievery and slavery (apparently they're the same as capitalism).

It would've been a much more interesting series had Whedon taken not the western as his model, but the Scarlet Pimpernel.

Kimball .30 Caliber Carbine Auto Pistol

Reading the January 2006 issue of American Rifleman the other day, there was a small squib "50 Years Ago" about an ad in the January 1956 issue for Kimball's .30 (carbine caliber) auto pistol, modestly billed as "The World's Most Powerful Automatic Pistol":



(Picture found at Tank.net--page 5 of the thread, post #82.)

It's not clear from any of the excerpted articles below, or any pictures that I've seen, whether the gun is loaded via a separate or integral magazine.

From Canadian-Firearms Digest V1 #851:

In 1955, the Kimball appeared on the scene, looking rather like a lightweight Colt or High Standard on steroids. Using a lightweight half-slide like those two .22 rimfire handguns, Kimball chambered his offering--are you ready for this?--in .30 M1 Carbine. A very illogical design!

So he had an excellent way to lock the breech CLOSED until the pressure dropped, right? WRONG. He gouged an annular ring around the inside of the chamber. On firing, the case expanded into the ring, and blowback forces swaged it back down to size as the cartridge pushed the slide back.

The NRA was highly interested in this new "wonder30." They got one of the first specimens off the line, and fired it. In a VERY short period of time, it stopped working, with the slide unwilling to move. They disassembled it.

The design allowed the slide to run back until it hit a vertical post at the rear of the grip -- again, like the .22 rimfire Colt or High Standard. The post was so battered and distorted by trying to stop that light slide that it had mushed out to the sides and jammed the slide.

The NRA sent it back. Kimball explained that the problem was poor heat treatment, and sent another. It failed almost as quickly.

When the second specimen was disassembled, they found that the new hard post had cracked, bent, and was obviously ready to shear off completely. A quick estimate of the path of the slide if the post HAD sheared completely indicated that it would end up in the middle of the face of the shooter--and, given the hammering it was doing when it reached the post, it would probably fly all the way to the face--and some distance into the shooter's head.

The Kimball company ceased production after 238 specimens had been made.

From GUNS Magazine, December 2001, by Mike Cumpston:

In 1958, the J. Kimball Arms Co. went into business (and out of business quite shortly) producing a .30 Carbine caliber pistol that closely resembled a slightly scaled-up High Standard Field King. It was extremely well-made and functioned on a delayed blow-back principal. This one contributed much to the mystique of the .30 by coming apart in the hands of one W. B. Edwards of GUNS Magazine. The rear slide lugs fractured on the 192nd round. No provenance is found for the legend that the Kimball has lodged its slide in the eyeball of several unlucky shooters, but the story is widely believed.

J. Kimball Arms Company (Detroit, MI), another American gun-maker gone.

Update: But not forgotten! GunsAmerica has one for sale, only $1950 (#185 of 300, condition is new, but there's no box).

Moral Actions

Disclaimer: I Am Not A Philosopher.

A recent High Road thread, "What's with mock assault rifle sales for kids?", got me thinking about moral actions.

(One more time: IANAP)

Moral actions are those actions that have consequences for the actor. So, I blink, I twitch, I snore--these actions have no discernable consequences for me.

I choose to own and shoot guns. At a very basic level my choices (actions) have consequences. I am constrained by law as to the way in which I may possess them (e.g., access to those guns by others, especially children; transporting them; carrying them concealed).

On another level, the firing has a consequence (*BANG*, recoil, ejection of a fired cartridge, et cetera).

The most important consequence of gun ownership is that I must observe and obey the Four Rules: Treat all guns as if they are loaded, never point the gun at anything you do not intend to destroy, keep your booger-hooker off the bang switch and always know what's behind your target.

So my moral actions lead to behavior which is moral.

The Capital Times (Madison, WI) column mentioned above, "Rob Zaleski: What's with mock assault rifle sales for kids?" purports to find no good reason for children to have airsoft rifles which are patterned after an AR-15 or M16.

His complaints are that such a toy might be dangerous to an (un)intended target ("You could shoot someone in the eye!"), or to its user if the police mistake it for a real rifle and shoot the kid. QED, it's too dangerous and shouldn't oughta be allowed.

Mr. Zaleski is a columnist for a paper that proudly styles itself as "Wisconsin's Progressive Newspaper", so I feel safe in assuming that he is liberal in his views. I wish that I could engage him in dialogue and ask his views on teen driving and teen abortion, but I'll presume that he favors both. I will presume also that he prefer that teenagers go through Drivers' Ed and sex ed.

Driving and sex are moral actions, in that they have (or can have) consequences. Education that teaches the consequences of those actions--therefore, moral education--benefits both individuals and society.

But education is not confined to a specific time and place and subject, it can happen anywhere, at any time, from anyone. Even in play, with toy guns.

The Four Rules of safe gun handling can be learned in play, but more than just those rules is learned playing Cops and Robbers (or what have you). It may have been Kim duToit who wrote about little boys learning about morality through play of just this sort: being the good guys, rounding up the bad guys, and an enactment by the group (society) of enforcement of the rules (laws), accepted by all.

So, moral behavior can be learned and practiced through play. With boys, it'll probably be mock-violent. Eh--what are you going to do?

I do not believe that Mr. Zaleski is evil, nor that his individual actions will have evil consequences for his grandson (mentioned in the column). But I do believe that he does not feel that playing with toy guns can be morally educational.

So he won't be giving his grandson a toy gun, which is to say: "Grandson, I see no purpose in giving you such a toy. I do not feel that you can be trusted with it, and you cannot learn anything from it."

But I feel that such a toy (especially from him, the grandfather), given with the caveats of the Four Rules, could be a powerful moral experience for the child that I could weep for the loss of such an opportunity.

Saturday Poetry

Edgar Allan Poe (1809 - 1849)

A Dream Within A Dream

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow--
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand--
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep--while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?

Gun Blogs, or What Did They Say?

Because I'm interested in guns and shooting, I look for and read a lot of gun blogs. Most of what I find is listed at N.Z. Bear's The Truth Laid Bear gun blog community page.

In that community are

1. Argghhh! link
2. Eric's Grumbles Before the Grave link
3. Resistance is futile link
4. SayUncle link
5. The Countertop Chronicles link
6. damnum absque inju link
7. Alphecca link
8. The Smallest Minority link
9. Publicola link
10. Random Nuclear Strikes link

...and eighty other blogs.

Here is quick roundup of recent posts from what I read:

--Ah, Shoot! comments about Paul McCartney's refusal to play in Communist China (11/29/05)

--Blognomicon says "It's still very odd to me to see this blog grouped in amongst "actual" news sources..." (11/29/05)

--The AnarchAngel posts about abortion, and the requirements for a new Special Operations combat pistol (.45 caliber, of course!) (11/29/05)

--andDr. StrangeGun posts about his plans for a digital camera (11/24/05)

Probably this is all done much more easily with a fancy-schmancy RSS feed, but I don't have nearly as much learning curve as I used to.

Saturday Poetry

Sir Thomas Wyatt (1503-1542)

Alas Madam for Stealing of a Kiss

Alas, madam, for stealing of a kiss
Have I so much your mind there offended?
Have I then done so grievously amiss
That by no means it may be amended?

Then revenge you, and the next way is this:
Another kiss shall have my life ended,
For to my mouth the first my heart did suck;
The next shall clean out of my breast it pluck.

Last night on TV

I haven't watched TV on a regular basis for quite some time, because I've gotten out of the habit. But last night I had the time and I watched some or most of three shows:

Supernatural, on the WB

Invasion, on CBS

and Law and Order: SUV, on NBC

So what did I think?

In no particular order:

Law and Order has been telling grim fairy tales for a long time, and is now targeting younger and younger teens as its audience.

Plus the usual liberal kool-aid...

(But remember there's no media bias!)

Supernatural is chasing the X-Files audience...scary enough without being stupid about it, worth another look I suppose.

But Invasion left me dumbfounded. In last night's episode, the good guys chase a rich man's beautiful wife because she's pregnant with an alien baby. (That's bad.)

In the end, she's reported dead (missed how) and the team blows up her expensive, beautiful house. The final shot of that was a good guy walking (walking!) away from the house, down the slope, as the house explodes in the background--no distress, no fear, no remorse, no doubt. (That's good.)

What the--?

Okay, if the slasher movies of the '70s and '80s taught us all anything, it's that having sex kills.

So bad SF of the '00s teaches us that...we learned nothing?

Secondly, the good guys are, um, dweebs. Biologist Girl (Carla Gugino) spent all her time pursuing a Ph.D., Computer Guy 1 lacks social skills (just a guess), Computer Guy 2 is a dwarf with an on-line gambling problem, Charles Dutton is big and black, and the token white guy is very unmemorable.

Nobody on the good guys seems to have sex.

Indeed, they are concerned--obsessed--with people who do have sex.

That is, the bad guys. Well, bad girl in last night's episode.

She's beautiful, sexy, strong, smart, seemingly one step ahead of the team, and married to a rich, powerful older man.

God, this sounds like high school: The cheerleader and the football captain, in other words.

And the nerds completely destroy the hot girl who's having sex--kill her and burn her house to the ground.

So the slashers are the good guys, out to keep anyone from having sex?

I don't watch TV anymore on a regular basis...

Mini-14 Range Report

What a boring day at the range.

I recently took possession of a Ruger Mini-14 (series 182, made in 1981). After field-stripping and cleaning it (and figuring out how to put the pieces back together), I took it out to the range.

Based on what I've read about the Mini-14, I had no expectations of great accuracy and did not ever hit the steel plate I was aiming at. No, what I was doing was teaching myself the basics of how this rifle operates, shoots and feels. Plus, I checked out the magazines (one factory 5-round and three aftermarket 10-round magazines).

All semiauto rifles have the capability of having a slamfire, so I loaded one round into the factory magazine, inserted the magazine, released the slide, took the safety off, aimed, squeezed the trigger, bang.

Next, I loaded two rounds into the factory magazine, inserted the magazine, released the slide, et cetera, bang, bang.

Next, I loaded one round into the first 10-round magazine, inserted the magazine, et cetera, bang.

Then two rounds into magazine 10-1, bang, bang. And repeat with the other two magazines (10-2 and 10-3).

After all that, they can still call me "Ten Finger Bruce", because nothing blew up. Which is the way I like it.

So the rifle works just fine. It feels okay in my hands (way better than the SKS!), but my God that op-rod wiggles around in the stock.

For my next trick, I shall attempt to shoot accurately. For this I will needs more ammo in various weights (50-70 grains? hmm...) and a muzzle weight.

Not a muzzle brake, just a simple two-piece 9/16" shaft collar that I can move around until I find the sweet spot on the barrel. I told you I'd been reading about this stuff (Mini-14 Talk)

Political Foulness

I was just listening to a few minutes of the Hugh Hewitt show. Hugh was talking about the nomination of Judge Alito with his guests, Irwin Chemerinsky of USC and John Eastman of Chapman University.

Hewitt played an audio clip of Sen. Charles Schumer in which Schumer expressed his concern (belief?) that Judge Alito, as Justice Alito, would roll back the achievements of Rosa Parks. That can only be understood as Schumer's belief that Judge Alito could find segregationist policies acceptable under the constitution.

One guest agreed, one pooh-poo'd the interpretation. I believe it was Eastman that further stated that Schumer should be ashamed of his statement.

Charles Schumer is a Democrat, from New York. He's been a U.S. Senator since 1998; before that, he was a Congressman from 1980 to 1998, and a state assemblyman from 1974 to 1980. So he's been a professional politician for 30 years.

I am disgusted to realize that this man is merely a typical politician--he has no shame, no honor, and nothing is beneath him. He is vile, untrustworthy, and unscrupulous. All of that and he's just a typical politician.

And there are tens, hundreds, thousands--millions--eager to follow in his shallow, meaningless footsteps.

What can I do to improve the quality of politicians in this country? What can anyone do?

Saturday Poetry

James Munro (aka James Mitchell), 1926 - 2002

The sign outside the door said: "Arthur Candlish, Boats." It was an elegant handmade sign of teak, with neat, precise lettering. It looked considerably more valuable than the building it adorned. Loomis stared at the sagging door, the low, grimy wall of unpainted brick.

"You sure this feller's any good?" he asked.

"I'm sure," said Craig, and pulled on a rusty bell chain. It screamed its lack of oil, extended a foot and a half, then contracted back to normal in a series of convulsive jerks as its bell clattered. Loomis liked it. A man in a white apron opened the door. In his hand was a chisel. He looked at Craig, and the chisel's cutting edge no longer faced them.

"John," he said. "Nice to see you. Arthur will be pleased--he's in the office."

Die Rich, Die Happy (1965)

James William Mitchell also wrote under the pseudonyms 'Patrick O. McGuire', and 'James Munro'.

Titles and year of publication:
1) Here's a Villain! (US Title: The Lady Is Waiting) 1957
2) A Way Back (Also published as: The Way Back) 1959
3) Steady, Boys, Steady 1960
4) Among Arabian Sands 1963
5) Ilion Like a Mist (Also published as: Venus in Plastic) 1969
6) A Magnum for Schneider (US Title: A Red File for Callan) (Also published as: Callan) 1969
7) The Winners 1970
8) Russian Roulette 1973
9) Death and the Bright Water 1974
10) Smear Job 1975
11) The Evil Ones 1982
12) Sometimes You Could Die 1985
13) Dead Ernest 1986
14) KGB Kill 1987
15) Dying Day 1988

As 'Patrick O. McGuire'

1) A Time for Murder 1955
2) Fiesta for Murder 1962

As 'James Munro'

1) The Man Who Sold Death 1964
2) Die Rich, Die Happy 1965
3) The Money That Money Can't Buy 1967
4) The Innocent Bystanders 1969

End of an era?

Well, it looks as though Kim duToit has hung it up. That's sad, because he was one of my first favorite blogs and he was always (nearly always) worth reading.

I hope everything goes well for him and his family, and that he returns someday.

LA County Gunstores

Last week, I visited seven different gunstores in one day.

Ugh.

For all that I live in California with its restrictive and nonsensical gun laws, plus living in LA county, gun stores are fairly plentiful and easy to find. The established stores and the newly-opened stores are going to have the same selection of "New! New! New!" guns for the California market that the Internet offers, and that's really not what I'm interested in.

But I can't know what else they have, unless I go there.

Wednesday morning, my primary caregiver duties done for the day, I strolled through the doors of the Pasadena Turner's Outdoorsman...and right back out again, since they had nothing interesting in their consignment section.

Onto Wimpey's Pawn in Azusa, just a quick jaunt on the 210 East to the Azusa Boulevard exit. This was my second time here and I ran straight to the back of the store to cruise the pawned firearms. The handguns seemed to be all new, except for the Taurus 66 (.357 Magnum, 6" barrel) that I had seen last time.

Asked to see one consignment rifle, a Marlin 99 M1 in .22. Also saw a Ruger 77 in .338 Winchester Magnum ($460), a Remington 673 in .350 Remington Magnum ($720) and a couple of still-handsome Remington Nylon .22s.

From there, I ran down the 605 and east on the 10 to the Turner's in West Covina. Finally found it in the Stater Bros' shopping center; Turner's told me they weren't big enought to rate a mention on the marquee on the street. Hmmph.

Nothing worth mentioning in consignment, but I did ask about Mini-14 prices ($570 for the blue steel and walnut stock, $620 in stainless).

That's three gunstores in one morning, so far.

Back on the road again to the north end of the 605 and Gunrunners, in Duarte (sorry, no link--c'mon people, it's the 21st century!). Lots of tasty consignment goodness! Three M1 carbines ($300, 400 and 500--cash price, more for credit cards), and a stainless Mini-14 for only $429, plus several other mil-surps and lever actions. Plenty of traffic coming into this store.

Pushing my luck, I decided to drive to Glendale to check on Gun Gallery (no link, see above). They've been open only for a few weeks, but I couldn't see any inventory changes between my last visit and this one. Hope their advertising plans work out.

AMT Automag II, mmm...

Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, it's back up Pacific to the 134 West and onto the 5--Stevenson Gun Ranch, here I come! What the--they're remodeling?!? No guns for sale for the next 30 days?!? That's just not right!

Finally, my odyssey is almost at an end. One more short drive down the street to Gun World. The store's got customers and a comedian behind the front desk ("Hello, I'm Josh, welcome to my Gun World. Can I interest you in something in 2000fps from a handgun?") Whoa--they're selling or taking orders for FN5.7? Hot diggity!

Gun World has a back room behind the front desk which is just packed with guns, guns and guns--handguns in the locked cabinets, long guns on the walls.

And speaking of long guns on the walls, aren't those Bushmasters? Really nice Bushmasters, but what are they doing for sale in California? I'm thinking LEO-only...but their tags aren't marked that way. Did I miss a legislative change of heart?

Alas, no. The Bushmasters are neutered, er, "modified" to have a fixed, non-detachable 10-round magazine, which is loaded by removing the upper. Very sad, but apparently they sell quite well.

And that was number seven. I'm amazed that I made it to, and through, so many different stores. I suspect I won't need to hit those stores again for a while.

Maybe...

Guns

Saturday Poetry

Theodore Sturgeon, 1918 - 1985

[I]t is enough for you now to know that its most significant effect is to turn on the full analytical powers of the mind whenever fear is experienced. Panic occurs when analysis is shut off. Embarrassment occurs when fear is not analyzed. Hereafter, no truck driver will fear to use the word 'exquisite', no propagandist will create the semblance of truth by repeating falsehoods, no human group will be able to instill fears about any other human group which are not common to the respective individuals of the groups. There will be no fear-ridden movements of securities, and no lovers will be with each other and be afraid to state their love. In large issues and in small ones, the greater the emergency the greater will be the stimulation of the analytical powers.

That is the meaning and purpose and constitution of the ultimate weapon.

"The Traveling Crag" (1951)

Saturday Poetry

Raymond Chandler, 1888 - 1959

"Red Wind"

There was a desert wind blowing that night. It was one of those hot dry Santa Anas that come down through the mountain passes and curl your hair and make your nerves jump and your skin itch. On nights like that every booze party ends in a fight. Meek little wives feel the edge of the carving knife and study their husbands' necks. Anything can happen. You can even get a full glass of beer at a cocktail lounge.

Saturday Poetry

Saturday Poetry

William Shakespeare, 1564 - 1616

"The Taming of the Shrew"



PETRUCHIO
Marry, so I mean, sweet Katharina, in thy bed:
And therefore, setting all this chat aside,
Thus in plain terms: your father hath consented
That you shall be my wife; your dowry 'greed on;
And, Will you, nill you, I will marry you.
Now, Kate, I am a husband for your turn;
For, by this light, whereby I see thy beauty,
Thy beauty, that doth make me like thee well,
Thou must be married to no man but me;
For I am he am born to tame you Kate,
And bring you from a wild Kate to a Kate
Conformable as other household Kates.
Here comes your father: never make denial;
I must and will have Katharina to my wife.

Re-enter BAPTISTA, GREMIO, and TRANIO

PETRUCHIO
Father, 'tis thus: yourself and all the world,
That talk'd of her, have talk'd amiss of her:
If she be curst, it is for policy,
For she's not froward, but modest as the dove;
She is not hot, but temperate as the morn;
For patience she will prove a second Grissel,
And Roman Lucrece for her chastity:
And to conclude, we have 'greed so well together,
That upon Sunday is the wedding-day.

KATHARINA
I'll see thee hang'd on Sunday first.

PETRUCHIO
Be patient, gentlemen; I choose her for myself:
If she and I be pleased, what's that to you?
'Tis bargain'd 'twixt us twain, being alone,
That she shall still be curst in company.
I tell you, 'tis incredible to believe
How much she loves me: O, the kindest Kate!
She hung about my neck; and kiss on kiss
She vied so fast, protesting oath on oath,
That in a twink she won me to her love.
O, you are novices! 'tis a world to see,
How tame, when men and women are alone,
A meacock wretch can make the curstest shrew.
Give me thy hand, Kate: I will unto Venice,
To buy apparel 'gainst the wedding-day.
Provide the feast, father, and bid the guests;
I will be sure my Katharina shall be fine.

BAPTISTA
I know not what to say: but give me your hands;
God send you joy, Petruchio! 'tis a match.

GREMIO TRANIO
Amen, say we: we will be witnesses.

PETRUCHIO
Father, and wife, and gentlemen, adieu;
I will to Venice; Sunday comes apace:
We will have rings and things and fine array;
And kiss me, Kate, we will be married o'Sunday.

(In honor of my friends Kate and John, marrying today!)

Saturday Poetry

Interesting .22 Pistols

I've got one .22 pistol, a Taurus 94 revolver (4" barrel, 9-shot cylinder, blued frame) and I like shooting it. Browsing through a recent purchase, "Pistols of the World", 4th edition, Hogg and Walter, I was looking for interesting .22 pistols.

Vis a vis styling, a revolver is a revolver and not much changes from manufacturer to manfacturer. Ah, but the autoloaders can be much more interesting...

I like the look of the Astra TS-22, a well-made inexpensive target pistol:



Alas, none are to be found on the web for sale (Auction Arms, Gun Broker, Guns America, GunsLocal).

Guns

Politics: AB 352, SB 357

I wanted to write something about these bills and their respective sponsors (Koretz, Dunn / Perata), but they're all a bunch of lying fucks and I just can't face browsing through their records.

Saturday Poetry

Robert W. Service
Jan. 16, 1874 - Sept. 11, 1958

"Birthday"

(16th January 1949)

I thank whatever gods may be
For all the happiness that's mine;
That I am festive, fit and free
To savour women, wit and wine;
That I may game of golf enjoy,
And have a formidable drive:
In short, that I'm a gay old boy
Though I be
Seventy-and-five.

My daughter thinks. because I'm old
(I'm not a crock, when all is said),
I mustn't let my feet get cold,
And should wear woollen socks in bed;
A worsted night-cap too, forsooth!
To humour her I won't contrive:
A man is in his second youth
When he is
Seventy-and-five.

At four-score years old age begins,
And not till then, I warn my wife;
At eighty I'll recant my sins,
And live a staid and sober life.
But meantime let me whoop it up,
And tell the world that I'm alive:
Fill to the brim the bubbly cup -
Here's health to
Seventy-and-five!

Saturday Poetry

Memorial Day

From US Memorial Day.org

Memorial Day, originally called Decoration Day, is a day of remembrance for those who have died in our nation's service. There are many stories as to its actual beginnings, with over two dozen cities and towns laying claim to being the birthplace of Memorial Day. There is also evidence that organized women's groups in the South were decorating graves before the end of the Civil War: a hymn published in 1867, "Kneel Where Our Loves are Sleeping" by Nella L. Sweet carried the dedication "To The Ladies of the South who are Decorating the Graves of the Confederate Dead" (Source: Duke University's Historic American Sheet Music, 1850-1920). While Waterloo N.Y. was officially declared the birthplace of Memorial Day by President Lyndon Johnson in May 1966, it's difficult to prove conclusively the origins of the day. It is more likely that it had many separate beginnings; each of those towns and every planned or spontaneous gathering of people to honor the war dead in the 1860's tapped into the general human need to honor our dead, each contributed honorably to the growing movement that culminated in Gen Logan giving his official proclamation in 1868. It is not important who was the very first, what is important is that Memorial Day was established. Memorial Day is not about division. It is about reconciliation; it is about coming together to honor those who gave their all.

Memorial Day was officially proclaimed on 5 May 1868 by General John Logan, national commander of the Grand Army of the Republic, in his General Order No. 11, and was first observed on 30 May 1868, when flowers were placed on the graves of Union and Confederate soldiers at Arlington National Cemetery. The first state to officially recognize the holiday was New York in 1873. By 1890 it was recognized by all of the northern states. The South refused to acknowledge the day, honoring their dead on separate days until after World War I (when the holiday changed from honoring just those who died fighting in the Civil War to honoring Americans who died fighting in any war). It is now celebrated in almost every State on the last Monday in May (passed by Congress with the National Holiday Act of 1971 (P.L. 90 - 363) to ensure a three day weekend for Federal holidays), though several southern states have an additional separate day for honoring the Confederate war dead: January 19 in Texas, April 26 in Alabama, Florida, Georgia, and Mississippi; May 10 in South Carolina; and June 3 (Jefferson Davis' birthday) in Louisiana and Tennessee.

Also from US Memorial Day.org

HEADQUARTERS GRAND ARMY OF THE REPUBLIC
General Orders No.11, WASHINGTON, D.C., May 5, 1868

The 30th day of May, 1868, is designated for the purpose of strewing with flowers or otherwise decorating the graves of comrades who died in defense of their country during the late rebellion, and whose bodies now lie in almost every city, village, and hamlet church-yard in the land. In this observance no form of ceremony is prescribed, but posts and comrades will in their own way arrange such fitting services and testimonials of respect as circumstances may permit.

We are organized, comrades, as our regulations tell us, for the purpose among other things, "of preserving and strengthening those kind and fraternal feelings which have bound together the soldiers, sailors, and marines who united to suppress the late rebellion." What can aid more to assure this result than cherishing tenderly the memory of our heroic dead, who made their breasts a barricade between our country and its foes? Their soldier lives were the reveille of freedom to a race in chains, and their deaths the tattoo of rebellious tyranny in arms. We should guard their graves with sacred vigilance. All that the consecrated wealth and taste of the nation can add to their adornment and security is but a fitting tribute to the memory of her slain defenders. Let no wanton foot tread rudely on such hallowed grounds. Let pleasant paths invite the coming and going of reverent visitors and fond mourners. Let no vandalism of avarice or neglect, no ravages of time testify to the present or to the coming generations that we have forgotten as a people the cost of a free and undivided republic.

If other eyes grow dull, other hands slack, and other hearts cold in the solemn trust, ours shall keep it well as long as the light and warmth of life remain to us.

Let us, then, at the time appointed gather around their sacred remains and garland the passionless mounds above them with the choicest flowers of spring-time; let us raise above them the dear old flag they saved from dishonor; let us in this solemn presence renew our pledges to aid and assist those whom they have left among us a sacred charge upon a nation's gratitude, the soldier's and sailor's widow and orphan.

It is the purpose of the Commander-in-Chief to inaugurate this observance with the hope that it will be kept up from year to year, while a survivor of the war remains to honor the memory of his departed comrades. He earnestly desires the public press to lend its friendly aid in bringing to the notice of comrades in all parts of the country in time for simultaneous compliance therewith.

Department commanders will use efforts to make this order effective.

By order of

JOHN A. LOGAN,
Commander-in-Chief

N.P. CHIPMAN,
Adjutant General

Official:
WM. T. COLLINS, A.A.G.

The Gettysburg Address

The Gettysburg Address
Gettysburg, Pennsylvania
November 19, 1863

Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.

Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that the nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.

But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate -- we can not consecrate -- we can not hallow -- this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us -- that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion -- that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain -- that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom -- and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

Saturday Poetry

A.R. Ammons (1926 - 2001)

When I Was Young The Silk

When I was young the silk
of my mind
hard as a peony head
unfurled
and wind bloomed the parachute:

The air-head tugged me
up,
tore my roots loose and drove
high, so high

I want to touch down now
and taste the ground
I want to take in
my silk
and ask where I am
before it is too late to know

Saturday Poetry

Saturday Poetry

Unknown, possibly G. K. Chesterton? (1874 - 1936)

Which Are You?

I watched them tearing a building down,
A gang of men in a busy town;
With a ho-heave-ho and a lusty yell
They swung a beam and the sidewall fell.
I asked the foreman: "Are these men skilled,
And the men you'd hire if you had to build?"
He gave a laugh and said: "No indeed!
Just common labor is all I need.
I can easily wreck in a day or two
What builders have taken a year to do!"

And I thought to myself as I went my way,
Which of these roles have I tried to play?
Am I a builder who works with care,
Measuring life by the rule and square?
Am I shaping my deeds to a well-made plan,
Patiently doing the best I can?
Or am I a wrecker, who walks the town,
Content with the labor of tearing down.

Saturday Poetry

Saturday Poetry

Thomas Nashe (1567-1601)

Spring, the sweet spring

Spring, the sweet spring, is the year's pleasant king,
Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring,
Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing:
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!

The palm and may make country houses gay,
Lambs frisk and play, the shepherds pipe all day,
And we hear aye birds tune this merry lay:
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!

The fields breathe sweet, the daisies kiss our feet,
Young lovers meet, old wives a-sunning sit,
In every street these tunes our ears do greet:
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to witta-woo!

Saturday Poetry

Saturday Poetry

William Allingham, 1824 - 1889

A Gravestone

Far from the churchyard dig his grave,
On some green mound beside the wave;
To westward, sea and sky alone,
And sunsets. Put a mossy stone,
With mortal name and date, a harp
And bunch of wild flowers, carven sharp;
Then leave it free to winds that blow,
And patient mosses creeping; slow,
And wandering wings, and footsteps rare
Of human creature pausing there.

Saturday Poetry

The First Pope

Pope Peter, 32 - 67

From The Catholic Encyclopedia:

The Risen Lord confirms Peter's precedence.

In spite of this weakness, his position as head of the Apostles was later confirmed by Jesus, and his precedence was not less conspicuous after the Resurrection than before. The women, who were the first to find Christ's tomb empty, received from the angel a special message for Peter (Mark 16:7). To him alone of the Apostles did Christ appear on the first day after the Resurrection (Luke 24:34; I Corinthians 15:5). But, most important of all, when He appeared at the Lake of Genesareth, Christ renewed to Peter His special commission to feed and defend His flock, after Peter had thrice affirmed his special love for his Master (John, xxi, 15-17). In conclusion Christ foretold the violent death Peter would have to suffer, and thus invited him to follow Him in a special manner (ibid., 20-23). Thus was Peter called and trained for the Apostleship and clothed with the primacy of the Apostles, which he exercised in a most unequivocal manner after Christ's Ascension into Heaven.

Saturday Poetry

Richard Lovelace, 1618 - 1658

To Lucasta, on Going to the Wars

Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind
That from the nunnery
Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind,
To war and arms I fly.

True, a new mistress now I chase,
The first foe in the field;
And with a stronger faith embrace
A sword, a horse, a shield.

Yet this inconstancy is such
As you too shall adore;
I could not love thee, Dear, so much,
Loved I not Honour more.

Saturday Poetry

LA County Gunstores: Wimpey's Pawn, Azusa

I drove out to Azusa the other day to look over the range where I'm taking a class soon (Burro Canyon Shooting Park), and on my up to the site I saw Wimpey's Pawn Shop.

A pawn shop, how interesting--oh, wait, they've got a sign in the window: Guns. screech

Wimpey's is a fairly typical pawn shop, with long counters of the expensive, pricey stuff (watches, rings, cameras, lenses, et cetera) under glass, band instruments on the wall and all the way in the back, guns.

Rifles and shotguns are racked neatly on the wall, handguns are in the display cases. Since I like older guns (new is new, anywhere you go) I zeroed in on the used revolvers. There were two that caught my eye: A Taurus 66 in .357, and a Colt Police Positive in .22.

The Taurus looked well-cared for, but the hammer spring felt really light when I cocked it. Huh.

The Colt was a small-frame (i.e., small grip) revolver with a 6" barrel, and it had not been well-cared for. The muzzle crown was dinged, and the barrel and frame were lightly speckled with rust. The frame screw on the right side was not just buggered, it was dead--half of the head was sheared away, leaving only a miniscule remnant of channel.

The grips seemed to be original (hard rubber?) and the action seemed in good condition (hammer cocked fine in single-action, no cylinder shake, extractor rod moved smoothly).

But for $340, I am not bringing this puppy home.

I'm not, I'm not, I'm not...

The other interesting gun on the back wall was an $80 rifle labeled "New England Westinghouse Company 1915 II". I asked about it, they didn't really know what it was. When I got home, I tried looking it up in my reference books, but no luck.

Googled "Westinghouse rifle" yesterday, found out it's most likely a Model 91 Mosin (7.62 x 54) made 1915-1917 for the Russian government (two contracts were awarded, one to Remington, the other to the above company, which was manufacturing weapons during WWI).

Huh--an American-made Mosin for $80.

Wimpey's Pawn Shop
650 N. Azusa Avenue
Azusa, CA 91702
626 334 9758

Saturday Poetry

Max Eastman, 1883 - 1969

At the Aquarium

Serene the silver fishes glide,
Stern-lipped, and pale, and wonder-eyed!
As through the aged deeps of ocean,
They glide with wan and wavy motion.
They have no pathway where they go,
They flow like water to and fro,
They watch with never-winking eyes,
They watch with staring, cold surprise,
The level people in the air,
The people peering, peering there:
Who wander also to and fro,
And know not why or where they go,
Yet have a wonder in their eyes,
Sometimes a pale and cold surprise.

Saturday Poetry

John Farnam: Farnam's Quips

From Farnam's Quips for February 11:

"Once again, I encouraged them to carry pistols (and blades) always, concealed if necessary, any time they find themselves in dangerous places, worrying less about "propriety" and more about personal victory. I reminded them that the routine carrying of pistols conveys to the carrier a firm sense of purpose and of nobility and that the daily handling of dangerous weapons reinforces correct habits."

Guns

Kim du Toit: GWB in Euroland

Kim describes the American style of diplomacy:

"Our diplomacy model, thanks to the GWB / Cheney / Halliburton / VRWC junta, is talk-talk-talk, failure, USMC/daisycutters."

Heh, heh, heh...

Capitalist Lion dot com: Gagging on the Socialist Pill

Capitalist Lion dot com

Mr. Lion writes about "...grabastic pieces of socialist goop...", specifically socialists trying to convince (guilt) everybody else to feel horrible about America being more successful than any other country in the world:

"Our country was created with the freedome for the lowest bump on the social stick to reach the top, prevented by absolutely nothing save his own ambition."

"Second, there is nothing special or exclusive about the American way of life."

RTWT.

Saturday Poetry

Thomas Hardy (1840-1928)

"When I Set Out for Lyonnesse"

When I set out for Lyonnesse,
A hundred miles away,
The rime was on the spray,
And starlight lit my lonesomeness
When I set out for Lyonnesse
A hundred miles away.

What would bechance at Lyonnesse
While I should sojourn there
No prophet durst declare,
Nor did the wisest wizard guess
What would bechance at Lyonnesse
While I should sojourn there.

When I came back from Lyonnesse
With magic in my eyes,
All marked with mute surmise
My radiance rare and fathomless,
When I came back from Lyonnesse
With magic in my eyes!

Saturday Poetry

Saturday Poetry

Paul Laurence Dunbar, 1872 - 1904

The Debt

This is the debt I pay
Just for one riotous day,
Years of regret and grief,
Sorrow without relief.

Pay it I will to the end --
Until the grave, my friend,
Gives me a true release --
Gives me the clasp of peace.

Slight was the thing I bought,
Small was the debt I thought,
Poor was the loan at best --
God! but the interest!

Saturday Poetry

Politics - Black History Month

I've never liked Black History Month--it's always seemed a patronising pat on the head to a minority culture that for the rest of the year is ignored unless it riots.

I don't really care all that much about black history or culture, either. I'm white, I've got my own culture, and my own sub-cultures within that culture (guns, heterosexuality, conservative politics).

That said, Saturday's poetry is by Paul Laurence Dunbar, a Negro poet of the 19th century.

From The Paul Laurence Dunbar Homepage:

Paul Laurence Dunbar was the first African-American to gain national eminence as a poet. Born in 1872 in Dayton, Ohio, he was the son of ex-slaves and classmate to Orville Wright of aviation fame.

Although he lived to be only 33 years old, Dunbar was prolific, writing short stories, novels, librettos, plays, songs and essays as well as the poetry for which he became well known. He was popular with black and white readers of his day, and his works are celebrated today by scholars and school children alike.

An interesting biographical page is here.

Politics: Los Angeles mayoral race

A recent thread on ca-firearms (http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ca-firearms/) asked about the RKBA positions of the various candidates. After a couple of responses, one poster commented that "Any DemonCrat in LaLa land is against firearms".

My response was "How about taking a candidate shooting? Or a senior aide? Are there any plans afoot by any NRA Members' Councils, or a CRPA committee?"

I've been a science fiction fan for many years and I am dismayed to see how little difference there is between the fannish world and the real world--one is just the other, writ smaller.

But it's an idea worth pursuing!

Saturday Poetry

William Blake, 1757 - 1827

The Tiger

Tiger, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder and what art
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand and what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? What dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears,
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did He smile His work to see?
Did He who made the lamb make thee?

Tiger, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

Saturday Poetry

Publicola: Additions To The Blogroll Archives

Hey, look at this! Publicola: Additions To The Blogroll Archives I got mentioned on Publicola's blog!

Geez, I gotta write something--company's coming...

Guns: New Toy, Part III

Ah, a range report. I took the new gun--the Yugoslavian SKS--out to Angeles Range today for its maiden outing, and survived.

Why survived? Because the flinkin' op-rod insisted on sticking out after every shot, turning my 10-round semi-automatic rifle into a singleshot!

On the plus side, no slam fires from a too-extended firing pin, so...I'll count my blessings.

I did find someone else at the range with an SKS and chatted with him about removing the gas tube (yeah, I'm doing it the right way, it just won't come off) and how my op-rod is sticking out.

So, shooting Wolf 123-grain FMJ at 25 yards, I killed that cardboard backer!

Hit the targets?

Uh...no. A few wild rounds hit the black on one target, all in the white on the other.

Same thing again at 50 yards. But I did ring the gong at 100 yards. Once.

Rifle marksmanship is a new skill for me to master, and the SKS isn't really the best rifle to practice that one. But it's what I've got, so it's back to the range for me on Monday (and Tuesday and Wednesday and Thursday!).

Guns: New Toy, Part II

Today I cleaned my SKS. When I picked it up from Turner's, it was lightly, but still liberally, coated in cosmoline. I unwrapped the plastic around it and gingerly inspected it.

Then I took it apart: magazine, trigger assembly, receiver and barrel, stock. And there it lay for a couple of weeks, until I could clean all that cosmoline off it.

I used most of one can of non-chlorinated brake cleaner to dissolve the cosmoline on the metal parts, and a quick soak and scrub in the tub with hot water and Simple Green to clean the stock. And a foaming bore cleaner followed by a bore snake on the barrel.

After carefully drying everything, oiling the appropriate parts, I began to put it all back together: receiver and barrel into the stock, magazine into stock and receiver, trigger assembly into stock (press that assembly catch out of the way!), bayonet, buttplate and new butt pad.

Then the bolt and bolt carrier (ah, the gentle rattle of the firing pin!), the (oof!) recoil spring and finally the receiver cover.

Hey, look at me--I've got a new gun!

Part III, the range report, tomorrow.

Guns: New Toy

Well, now I've gone and really done it this time. I bought a rifle, a Yugoslavian SKS M59/66 (alas, no grenade launcher for me).

Technically, all of the above is true. Practically...it's a pile of parts, waiting to be degreased and re-assembled. Oy. I think it'll be a couple of weeks before I'm able to get it finished up and try it out...but Christmas came a little early for me this year!

Beautiful Atrocities: Disposable Wisdom

Beautiful Atrocities: Disposable Wisdom

Yeah, baby!

Politics: Election Day, 2004

I've done my civic duty today and voted.

I voted for Bush/Cheney, and "No" on all California and Los Angeles ballot propositions.

I hope Bush wins, by a lot, so there's no chance that the election can be contested.

LA County Gunstores: Sharp Shooter, Torrance

Sharp Shooter, 1827 W 208th Street in Torrance (310 618 9971), is located in a small business park. Not a lot of character on the outside, the inside is much bigger than it looks.

It's more of an indoor range than it is a gun store, although there are new pistols for sale and sundry other shooting-related items (targets, cleaning supplies, drop-in gunsmithing bits and pieces for 1911s). What's most impressive is the window all the way across the back of the shooting range, so you can see all the shooters at the same time.

West Coast Tactical has its shooting classes here. I hope to get to one of their Handgun 1 classes next year.

LA County Gunstores: Santa Fe Gun Galeria, Palmdale

Someday, when I win the lottery, I'll be able to buy any gun I want to. Until then, I like to look. Now, new guns are new guns, anywhere you go. But for old guns and those that are out of production, you have to go where they are.

Santa Fe Gun Galeria is a small gun store in Palmdale, at Sierra Highway and Avenue P. That intersection is an L-shaped strip mall, with a liquor store on the short leg and Gun Galeria on the long leg.

The store is split lengthways by display cabinets down the middle, creating two long aisles on either side. The left side as you go in is the pawnshop side; lever-action rifles are kept on pegs on the wall.

All the way at the back is a display cabinet with used handguns--two S&W Model 41 .22 target pistols, some Browning Buckmarks, some Colt Woodsmans. More handguns are on display as you follow the aisle around to your right--double-action Colt revolvers in .45 LC, a S&W in .44 Schoenfield, small foreign pre-WWII automatics.

The guy behind the counter was working on a rifle when I went in, while a customer barraged him with questions about which handgun was safer or better or more powerful--finally he sent the guy away with a copy of the DoJ gun safety booklet to read.

Rifles and shotguns were out on the store floor to look at, something I haven't seen in a while. I glanced over some .22 rifles, a .303 Enfield.

In a display cabinet all the way down front was a little three-drawer chest. The bottom drawer was pulled out, showing a cased black powder pistol. The two drawers above that had hand-lettered signs on them: "Bicentennial SAA" and "Bicentennial Python". No prices listed--I didn't bother asking.

I did ask to look at the Model 41 ciraca '58-'62, with a 7-1/2" barrel. LA Guns has one for almost a thousand dollars--this one was only $600. I didn't buy it, 'cause I've already blown my budget for guns for this year. But I'll start saving my nickels and dimes and twenties and fifties!

A different version of this post was cross-posted to calguns.net.

LA County Gunstores

Los Angeles county is pretty big, and it's got quite a few gun stores. I've pulled a list together from on-line yellow pages and I'm going to try to visit all of them.

Not to be dismissive of any business, but a Turner's is a Turner's. I go to the one in Reseda and the one in Pasadena, and I'll get around to the others in LA county eventually, but unless I find something fantastic on consignment, I won't have much to say about them.

I've been to LA Guns, in West Hollywood. It's a nice little showroom of a store, upstairs on the third floor, behind two security doors (*bzz!*). I've bought some shooting supplies there, but no guns.

I've been to King's Gunworks, in Glendale, on Glenoaks Boulevard. The store has been in that location for quite some time, looks it, feels it. Again, bought some supplies there, but no guns.

Gun World and Stevenson Gun Country, both in Burbank, on Magnolia Boulevard. Bought a box of ammo one time at Stevenson's. Browsing at Gun World is a treat, because of the glass-fronted cabinets in the back room they keep their handguns in--it just looks nice--but their prices seem high to me.

I know that Greta's Guns in Simi Valley is over the county line into Ventura, but I'm not sure about Bullseye Sporting Arms. I went to Bullseye because of a brief passion for double rifles (think African big game), but I was disappointed in the "store". It was a totally anonymous store front (no name, no ads, no nothing) in a non-descript business park in Simi Valley.

Strictly speaking, there was no store inside, just a front desk manned by the owner, and a back room area that felt more like a basement game room, with lots of expensive ($5K and up!) shotguns laying around. Maybe someday, if I win the lottery...

I had some time today and went off to Antelope Valley to check on gun stores up there. Because it was Sunday, three of the five I checked on were closed, the fourth looked like it was out of business, and the fifth was a residential address. Hmmph.

But now I know where those three are and can go visit them this week.

Saturday Poetry

Andrew Marvell, 1621–1678

To His Coy Mistress

Had we but world enough, and time,
This coyness, Lady, were no crime.

We would sit down and think which way
To walk and pass our long love's day.
Thou by the Indian Ganges' side
Shouldst rubies find: I by the tide
Of Humber would complain. I would
Love you ten years before the Flood,
And you should, if you please, refuse
Till the conversion of the Jews.

My vegetable love should grow
Vaster than empires, and more slow;
An hundred years should go to praise
Thine eyes and on thy forehead gaze;
Two hundred to adore each breast,
But thirty thousand to the rest;
An age at least to every part,
And the last age should show your heart.
For, Lady, you deserve this state,
Nor would I love at lower rate.

But at my back I always hear
Time's wingèd chariot hurrying near;
And yonder all before us lie
Deserts of vast eternity.
Thy beauty shall no more be found,
Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound
My echoing song: then worms shall try
That long preserved virginity,
And your quaint honour turn to dust,
And into ashes all my lust:
The grave's a fine and private place,
But none, I think, do there embrace.

Now therefore, while the youthful hue
Sits on thy skin like morning dew,
And while thy willing soul transpires
At every pore with instant fires,
Now let us sport us while we may,
And now, like amorous birds of prey,
Rather at once our time devour
Than languish in his slow-chapt power.
Let us roll all our strength and all
Our sweetness up into one ball,
And tear our pleasures with rough strife
Thorough the iron gates of life:

Thus, though we cannot make our sun
Stand still, yet we will make him run.

Range Report: Armscor 1911 EFS

EFS? Hell if I know.

Anyhow, this is a basic 1911, made in the Phillipines. It has an ambidexterous safety and an extended slide release. Magazine holds 8 rounds of fat .45 ACP.

Its first outing was the same windy day at Angeles Range as the Taurus 94. Didn't go quite as well as the Taurus--several failures to feed, one jam that had to be cleared by the RO with a borrowed pen (poke poke poke down the barrel, finally fell out--how embarrassing).

But tonight, I went to a range in the neighborhood, Gun World. Put another 50 rounds through the gun, only had a few FTF, no jams.

Shooting the gun is significantly different than my other guns (all revolvers). There's more going on immediately after each shot (the slide slams back, slams forward into battery), the empty brass is ejected high to the right, and the gun itself twists in my hand. Weird.

But dang, the holes it makes in the target! So much easier to see at any distance, especially with my eyes.

And I went ahead and bought a one-year membership at the range--unlimited range time and $5 gun rentals (with their ammo, natch)--$130.

I guess I'm going back tomorrow. Wow. I gotta buy more ammo.

Range Report - Taurus Model 94

While I have shot a few .22 handguns, this is the first one I've owned. A couple of weeks ago, I took it to the range (Angeles Shooting Range) for its first outing.

It was very windy and the range office wasn't letting any handgun targets out on the line, since they would just blow away. So I was limited to the steel silhouttes at the left end of the line.

What a blast! I'd been concerned about the grip on the gun, which was just a little short for my hand, as well as the stiffness of the action in double-action, but once I loaded that little gun up with nine rounds of .22 LR and started squeezing off shots, I just had a big smile on my face.

This is definitely the way to go for a first gun: Small, simple, minimal recoil ("bang! pfft" in the hand). And accurate enough to reach out and touch those silhouettes ("ping!") when I did my part.

Since then, I've swapped out the factory grips for a set of Uncle Mike's rubber grips that are just longer enough that my whole hand curls around it.

This little gun is a definite keeper, and I'll be on the lookout for another one, or the Model 96, a K-22 clone. What I'd really like, of course, is a Model 94 with a 6" barrel--hmm, I wonder if anyone's selling just barrels, somewhere on the web...

Saturday Poetry

Langston Hughes (1902 - 1967), "Ballad of the Landlord"

Landlord, landlord,
My roof has sprung a leak.
Don't you 'member I told you about it
Way last week?
Landlord, landlord,
These steps is broken down.
When you come up yourself
It's a wonder you don't fall down.
Ten Bucks you say I owe you?
Ten Bucks you say is due?
Well, that's Ten Bucks more'n I'll pay you
Till you fix this house up new.
What? You gonna get eviction orders?
You gonna cut off my heat?
You gonna take my furniture and
Throw it in the street?
Um-huh! You talking high and mighty.
Talk on--till you get through.
You ain't gonna be able to say a word
If I land my fist on you.
Police! Police!
Come and get this man!
He's trying to ruin the government
And overturn the land!
Copper's whistle!
Patrol bell!
Arrest.
Precinct Station.
Iron cell.
Headlines in press:
MAN THREATENS LANDLORD
TENANT HELD NO BAIL
JUDGE GIVES NEGRO 90 DAYS IN COUNTY JAIL