Elfland

Yeah, funny mood this afternoon.

I've been out wandering
In foggy country
Out where strange things exist
The edge of magic
The edge of science
Meet and merge in the mist

And I've come back with a book full of songs
A handful of tactics for righting old wrongs
And all you can say is I've been gone too long
You don't know me at all

I've been out wandering
In hidden country
Out where your rejects reside
Where dreams are solid
Where words are fire
Out where the free thinkers hide

And all you tell me is you don't care
You can't put a meter on sunlight or air
You've got no use for the new world out there
You don't know us at all

Guess I'll go back there
With all I'll get here
All that will help us go on
That country's growing
With every outcast
You'll never notice we're gone

And when you've won all those games that you play
You just might see there's no one left to pay
We'll have the whole world that you threw away, and
We won't know you at all

- Leslie Fish

Private to Ghost...

I understand that you enjoy chasing trucks. I really do. I don't like it, it worries me, I wish you'd stop, but I do understand.

But, dude. Biting the tires - that's just dumb.

Watch this video

It's longer than I usually post here, and it's not at all frivolous. Watch it anyway, then spread it around.

H/T to David Codrea

Hey, I'm getting good at this!

UPDATE: The article linked in the post immediately below has been expanded and revised. It now contains even more and better lies. The paragraph mentioning military bases is no longer present.

In other news, George Orwell sues the Washington Post for theft of Intellectual Property. Can I call it, or what? ;-)

Nobody's safe when rulers get together...

So I understand that, though Our Divinely Anointed Maximum Leader (ODAML) doesn't plan to do anything dastardly to gun owners himself he is being forced, quite against his will, to bow under the crushing weight of international opinion and will now "push the U.S. Senate to ratify an inter-American arms trafficking treaty designed to curb the flow of guns and ammunition to drug cartels and other armed groups in the hemisphere."

This is a treaty originally signed by Bubba - er, that is, the Divinely Concupiscent Maximum Leader - and ignored for all the decades since. Suddenly, however, ODAML finds the dusty relic to be simply inescapable. He tried, he really did: He begged, he pleaded, he threatened nuclear war against Mexican President Felipe Calderon because he is just so fervently devoted to the rights of American Citizens. But President Calderon reportedly overpowered ODAML's security guards, knocked ODAML to the ground and tortured him with feathers until he was forced to give in on this one tiny, itsy bitsy point. You'll understand.

"The Obama administration's commitment to seek ratification [of the treaty] is important because stemming the number of illegal privately-owned firearms which flow into Latin America and the Caribbean - well, anywhere - is a high priority for the region our rulers and would-be rulers and addresses a key hemispheric concern relating to people's their personal security and well-being," said a senior Obama administration official who wished to remain anonymous so his name wouldn't appear on the post-revolution indictments.

Yeah, I fixed it for them.

I especially enjoyed this bit, which apparently slipped past the government copy editor:

Many of the guns used by the drug cartels travel south from the United States. Some assault rifles recovered by Mexican authorities have been traced back to U.S. military bases.

Doubleplus ungood! Minitrue malquote military bases rectify rewrite fullwise upsub antifiling...

Many of the guns used by the drug cartels travel south from the United States. Some assault rifles recovered by Mexican authorities have been traced back to U.S. gun stores.

Ah, that's better. Whew. I'm going to step outside for a Victory Cigarette.

UPDATE: The link above now leads to a completely different article, containing more and better lies. The paragraph mentioning military bases is no longer present.

In other news, George Orwell sues the Washington Post for theft of Intellectual Property. Can I call it, or what? ;-)

More $%&! Snow

Yeah, I know. Half the readers are going, "What the hell is he whining about?" as they shovel the latest foot of white stuff off their porches.

For years before I left Kali I firmly intended to. The only thing I didn't completely hate about Socal was the weather. I knew Kalians who actually complained about it; said it was boring. Hey, I'm from a winter state; boring is good. So I always used to joke, "I don't know where I'm going when I leave here, but I know that wherever it is I'll never stop bitching about the weather." So far, so good.

All day yesterday I hunkered down through a non-stop windstorm. It was mostly sunny, but sometime during the night it clouded up and dumped a bunch of snow. Now it's already melting off and I know it'll be gone everywhere but the shadows in another hour, but still. It's officially late April and we're back to numb fingers and frozen toes. Give it a rest, gods. This is the desert; let's have some frigging heat.

Heh - a month from now I'll be bitching about the heat.

Montana - Here's a bit of good news!

For some strange reason I just don't understand, two interesting developments in Montana haven't been getting a lot of press.

Two Montana legislative bills, HR 228 and HR 246, have been kicking around for quite some time. 246, in particular, has been talked about for months on the gun blogs because it's a tenth amendment states-rights challenge that goes far beyond toothless "resolutions." According to today's release from the Montana Shooting Sports Association (MSSA), which wrote the bill's wording,

HB 246 declares that any guns and ammunition made and retained in Montana are not subject to ANY federal regulation under the authority of Congress to regulate commerce “among the states.

The Montana legislature passed the bill, and - to my shock - the governor signed the thing today.

The bill becomes effective on October 1, and the MSSA release goes on to suggest that nobody rush right out to take advantage of it because there's no freaking way the feds are going to let this go by unchallenged. There's a big court circus in this law's future. Even so, Way To Go Montana!

(H/T to Bill St. Clair's End The War On Freedom)

The other, related Montana law is HB 228, which expands the legally-recognized right of self-defense and - if I'm reading this correctly - establishes Vermont/Alaska-style carry law to Montana where it damned sure belongs. I gather there's a fight in the legislature, adding and removing an amendment that would strip that part from the bill.

As I said, there's not a helluva lot of news available about this business, so I'm not sure about HB 228's status. (Can you believe I'm doing web research about a law? I think I need to go take my temperature.) I know I've got at least one Montana reader - can you fill me in?

Anyway, congratulations MSSA and Montana on sticking up for Montana-made guns and ammo! Here's hoping the rest of the fight goes well.

UPDATE: HB 228 has passed both houses, I'm told. Along the way it lost Alaska carry, alas, though it explicitly permits open carry and every other good thing in it is intact. It awaits the gov's signature, which apparently it will almost certainly get. Y'know, that place is getting more and more attractive - except for all that frigging winter.

All Kidding Aside...

The supposedly radical statement "Taxation is Theft" is not nearly radical enough to suit me. Theft is evil; taxation is far worse.

But don't take my word for it. Let's listen to the Great Teacher:

The fact is that the government, like a highwayman, says to a man: 'Your money, or your life.' And many, if not most, taxes are paid under the compulsion of that threat. The government does not, indeed, waylay a man in a lonely place, spring upon him from the roadside, and, holding a pistol to his head, proceed to rifle his pockets. But the robbery is none the less a robbery on that account; and it is far more dastardly and shameful. The highwayman takes solely upon himself the responsibility, danger, and crime of his own act. He does not pretend that he has any rightful claim to your money, or that he intends to use it for your own benefit. He does not pretend to be anything but a robber. He has not acquired impudence enough to profess to be merely a 'protector,' and that he takes men's money against their will, merely to enable him to 'protect' those infatuated travellers, who feel perfectly able to protect themselves, or do not appreciate his peculiar system of protection. He is too sensible a man to make such professions as these. Furthermore, having taken your money, he leaves you, as you wish him to do. He does not persist in following you on the road, against your will; assuming to be your rightful 'sovereign,' on account of the 'protection' he affords you. He does not keep 'protecting' you, by commanding you to bow down and serve him; by requiring you to do this, and forbidding you to do that; by robbing you of more money as often as he finds it for his interest or pleasure to do so; and by branding you as a rebel, a traitor, and an enemy to your country, and shooting you down without mercy, if you dispute his authority, or resist his demands. He is too much of a gentleman to be guilty of such impostures, and insults, and villanies as these. In short, he does not, in addition to robbing you, attempt to make you either his dupe or his slave.

- Lysander Spooner

Der Tag!

Today's the day! The happy, happy day on which all loyal Americans express their love, appreciation and support of their Glorious Nation! This is a great day! Let us rejoice and be glad in it!

And should you have any difficulty fulfilling your fiduciary duty to the State, never fear! Our courteous, professional staff is at your disposal, ready to assist in any way.



They'll even take care of your pets for you, while you deal with necessary matters. They wouldn't want you to be distracted.

Only one more day!

And in case you're feeling resentful about your joyful patriotic duty to pay your fair share, maybe this will cheer you up:

On these taxing days, when we become a defiantly bipartisan nation of whiners convinced that we are handing over to the Internal Revenue Service our blood and sweat and mother’s milk, our pound of flesh and firstborn young, maybe it’s time for a little perspective.

Legions before us have donated all these items and more to the public till, and not just metaphorically speaking, either. Benjamin Franklin was right to equate paying taxes with a deeply organic behavior like dying. It turns out that giving up a portion of one’s income for the sake of the tribe is such a ubiquitous feature of the human race that some researchers see it as crucial to our species’ success. Without ritualized taxation, there would be precious little hominid representation.

Yes, paying taxes is not merely a patriotic duty, not merely a way of keeping Uncle Sugar's Legions from damaging your front door, household pets and furnishings, or sphinctal diameters - it's a biological imperative! Birds do it, fish do it, and you'll by god do it if you know what's good for you. Otherwise, how would you know you live in the Land of the Free? Hmm?

Oh, My Aching... Pt. 2

I have now acquired nearly everything I need for the foundation of Joel's Secret Lair, Final Edition. Yes I know it's taking a long time. In previous posts I may have given the impression that I am merely a lazy, feckless so-and-so. This is not true. I am most sincerely a lazy, feckless so-and-so.

Right at the moment I am a lazy, feckless so-and-so with a really sore back and knees, and that's before I've mixed a single bit of concrete.

Twenty. Eighty. Pound. Bags. I'm too old for this.

AtH The Assassin

Saturday morning I welcomed my daughter and Ari the Husband to my little patch of paradise. This was indeed a joyful visit, as I haven't seen either of them since their wedding over two years ago. Daughter hasn't changed a bit; she's still the same sassy, self-motivated little $#@! that used to drive her mother and me (especially her mother) crazy when she was a little girl. Gad, I love her.

Anyway, AtH decided that while he was in The Great Outdoors, he wanted to fulfill a previously-unsuspected lifelong ambition of coldbloodedly murdering a cute fuzzy little bunny. I represented all the world's voices of moderation and sensitivity by lending him a rifle and showing him where he was most likely to flush rabbits. Saturday the weather was not really conducive to rabbit flushing, but he persisted and on his third outing he did indeed come back with a cruelly-slaughtered innocent.

At this point I have to give a serious shout-out to my one-and-only son-in-law, AtH. A city boy, raised by stereotypical Southern California upper-middle-class liberals, I expected that if he actually succeeded in shooting a rabbit the "yuck factor" would end the experiment right there. Instead he borrowed a book on game butchering and a couple of sharp knives and proceeded to skin, clean, butcher and cook little Thumper as if he'd been doing it all his life.

Tasted pretty damned good, too. Way to go, AtH!

Of course if I really liked him, I'd have warned him that not all rabbits are quite so easily taken...

I'm a HERMIT, ok?

Actually got an email this morning, asking if I was still alive. Er...if I wasn't alive, I wouldn't be able to send a reply attesting to my death. Right?

It has been a crazy, crazy week. One of The Stakeholders was here at the beginning of last week, and stayed a couple of days. Very cool - hadn't seen him in quite a while. Then my daughter and Ari the Husband came for a three-day stay. Very, very cool - haven't seen my daughter in over two years. Waved them on their way this morning - just a few minutes ago, in fact - and now must get things ready because my friend The Stakeholder is coming back here this afternoon with a whole bunch of things that need doing, all of which involve heavy objects.

All much beloved people, all a delight to see, not complaining in the slightest. Don't get me wrong.

I'm exhausted. I'm frazzled. This is more people than I've seen in months, let alone entertained as guests. As soon as daughter and AtH's car disappeared over the rise, even the dogs collapsed in a collective, rather relieved heap.

I have stories to tell: Got the materials for The Secret Lair's foundation, AtH killed/butchered/cooked and shared his very first rabbit, more on the mystery rocks. But I just don't have time right now. I'm behind on my chores and The Stakeholder is due in a few hours. Also, a third of a rabbit is not a complete breakfast and I'm starving.

More later. Possibly a couple of days later. But yes, I'm alive.