Tuesday, December 22, 2020

*cue maniacal laughter*

During the lead-up to the little unpleasantness variously known as "Desert Storm", "The First Gulf War", and "Opening Moves Of The Latest Unending War" the US military instituted a mandatory anthrax vaccination program.

Right, wrong, or indifferent, that vaccine has been blamed for a lot of ills being suffered by veterans of that conflict, so -- out of curiosity, you understand -- I asked some Desert Storm veterans if they were planning on taking the COVID vaccine.

The replies were ... unprintable. One might even say "corrosive in the extreme". The politest response was maniacal laughter, followed by, "You're serious? [Deleted] that, ask me again after someone else has guinea-pigged it for a couple of years."

I haven't seen any outreach towards those folks, or to the families and caretakers of those folks afflicted with Gulf War Syndrome, who (correctly or incorrectly) attribute that condition to the mandatory vaccine.

Nothing on the media, or from the Fed.gov.

Y'all might want to get ahead of the curve on that one.

Just saying.


Monday, December 14, 2020


Well, looks like Joe Biden is the new President of the United States.

I offer my congratulations to him, and I solemnly promise to show his Presidency the same grace and support his followers showed his predecessor.

Sauce for the goose being sauce for the gander, and all that.


Merry Christmas, my friends ...

 ... And Happy Holidays!


Sunday, December 13, 2020


Every so often I am reminded that there are massive divisions between the Southwest and the rest of this great Nation, and never so much as the Christmas Season and Drug Deal Tamales.

For those poor, un-tamaled folks outside of the Southwest, this Season heralds the appearance of Little Old Mexican Ladies -- or their representatives -- who bring tamales.

Now, most Health Departments have rules, regulations, and ordinances regarding the things you have to do before you are allowed to sell pre-made foodstuffs.

On the other paw, most abuelitas don't give to hoots in hell about the regs concerning commercial food productions -- nor do they have any interest in ponying up the fees and other dosh required to become sanctified by the Bureacracy.

So, a lot of these tamales are sold on the sly -- depending on how tolerant the local Health Department is. They'll be a battered pickup, or four-door car in a parking lot, you pass over cash and receive a ziplock baggie containing a brick-sized lump of tinfoil with Heaven stuffed into little cornhusk packets.

Or someone in your office knows someone, who knows someone, and will pass along your order, or take up a collection.

Yes, you can get tamales from actual, certified restaurants and suppliers, but I've never had tamales as good as those from a random Mexican grandmother, passed over still steaming, and wolfed down at a stop-light, or in the driveway.

These tamales -- either pork or chicken -- are a big part of Christmas for me, and I kind of feel sorry for those folks in other parts of the Country who have never had them.



Saturday, October 24, 2020

Just saying

Folks, if you don't know that "coyote" is a word for a person who is paid to smuggle people across the Southern border into the United States, then you don't know enough about unlawful immigration to have an opinion on the subject. 

 That goes double for politicians. 


Saturday, October 03, 2020

Tales Around The Supper Table

Well, that was faster than I thought.

A snippet: 
"Peace, seidrman."

It was a whisper, barely louder than the breeze around us, and conveyed the same kind of quality you would expect if a Harlequin romance novel went emo, got a Ph.D in Literature, and spent a century or so wandering through a thesaurus trying out complicated synonyms for boredom. I took a closer look: it was a male, model-thin and pale white, with shoulder-length hair that the breeze fluttered playfully about. His face had never seen acne, nor a whisker, and came equipped with a chin you could split logs with. The chest was bare to what Texas thinks of as an autumn chill, also completely hairless and cut with a decent amount of muscles above skin-tight leather pants. I knew, just knew, that the eyes would be blue and piercing.

I gave the lady a little shove in its direction, safed and holstered the Wilson, before closing my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose and gently shaking my head. “You brought a vampire into Wichita Falls? Are you nuts?”

My ears flicked around as I noticed the sleepy annoyance radiating from the gravestones. Thing is: a vampire isn’t an undead. A vampire is a dead body that got colonized by a mostly-sentient fungus with aspirations and a really good PR team. And they tend to annoy the actual undead.

The lady waved a hand dismissively, “It’s not like we’re in Chicago, or New Orleans, or L.A., even. I think Jean-Pierre can handle Podunk easy enough.”

I was willing to bet that before his corpse got colonized by the magical equivalent of over-sexed mildew, what was standing in front of me was named Phil, or Bob, or Frank, but that’s a damned vampire for you.

This time the whisper had overtones that could be best described as attempting to muster enough Give-A-Damn to become a sneer: “I, who taught Machiavelli, who played the intricacies of the Court of Louis Catorce the way Mozart played with music. I have little to fear from these mortals.

“Yeah, well, they don’t do ‘intricacy’ around here. They do dynamite and bulldozers at noon.” I attempted to poke the lady somewhere that I wouldn’t get slapped for, fail, and settled for making finger quotes, “And the next time I see you, it’ll be in a solemn press release from the Sheriff’s Office lamenting you getting your ass killed while resisting arrest.”

She cocked her head at me, trying to conceal her amusement at the thought of the rube attempting to protect her, while the vampire leaned against the side of a mausoleum, probably getting ennui all over the marble. Eww.

If you want the rest, you'll have to buy the book.


Monday, September 28, 2020


 Probably be out third week of October.


Iron does not lie

Back in 2017 Herself and I started working out at Mark Rippetoe's gym, and -- barring illness and/or injury -- we've been working out regularly there ever since.

It's not exactly State-of-the-Art: There are barbells, there are the safety racks, and there are the plates; this is how you do the big, compound lifts. Get after it.

The simplicity leads to a certain Zen frame of mind. You put iron plates on the bar, and then you lift the bar. If you lift the set correctly -- yay, you! And you add five or ten pounds the next week. If you fail, you back off five or ten pounds, you add an extra set, and you keep going.

The thing is that there will be a point where you're going to fail. It's inevitable. As you keep increasing the weight, there will come a time when you just can't finish that last set of five. That time might be the first week, or the first six months, or the first year, but you're going to fail.

And the iron isn't going to listen to your excuses. It's not going to pat you on the back and fluff up your ego.

It's going to sit there and dare you to lift it. And when you do, it'll be heavier the next week. And -- sooner, rather than later -- you're going to fail again. And you -- just you, no-one else -- are going to have to reach down inside yourself and find the stuff to drive through and move that weight, because the iron isn't going to coax you, or baby you -- but it's not going to lie to you, either.

It's not going to make noises about "fairness", or "opportunity". It's just going to wait for you to lift it. And if you don't, it doesn't care.

In the last three years, we've seen a lot of people come and go; and the majority that leave cut sling-load after that first failed lift. You'll hear it. Usually it's a strangled grunt, followed by the crash of the bar onto the safety pins, and they'll leave, never to be seen again.

If you do see them again, at the store or a restaurant, they'll murmur something about "Strength training just wasn't right for me" and mention the Plyo-Dance Program, or Radioactive Yoga Conditioning that they're in, and how "It's a better fit".

It's not the program that's a "better fit", it's the subjective benchmarks, and never failing that's a "better fit".

There's 315 pounds. Deadlift it five times. You either do, or you don't. 

Here's 265 pounds. Squat it for three sets of five repetitions. You either get all 15 out, or you don't.

Much like iron, the world doesn't care about you.

People think it does. Every time you hear talk about "fairness", or "opportunity", that's someone trying to tell you that the world cares, that it's subjective, when it's really objective.

Deadlift 405 pounds, or don't. Get that job, or don't.

Squat 365 pounds. Or don't. Earn that salary. Or don't.

Iron doesn't care that the guy in the next safety rack is squatting 495 when you can only squat 225. Iron isn't going to tell you that it isn't fair; it isn't going to make itself lighter for your self-esteem; and iron isn't going to throw a snit-fit when you fail.

Iron isn't going to lie to you. The world isn't going to lie to you. It sucks, and you're going to fail. Readjust, reacquire, and drive through. Or don't.

People are going to lie to you. You are going to lie to you.

More folks should learn this.

More people should be lifting weights, failing to lift weights, and driving through.

That's your Melancholy Monday ramble.  Back to writing.


Sunday, September 27, 2020

A reminder

Sandra Day O'Connor was the first woman to sit on the Supreme Court of the United States.

Some folks -- probably the ones with the book paper stuck between their teeth, and the ink on their tongues -- seem to have forgotten that.

Or never knew.


Saturday, September 26, 2020

Cowboy stew

Fall is around the corner -- my favourite time of the year -- and it's soup season!


3 - 4 pounds beef
8 red potatoes
1 large yellow onion
1 16oz bag carrot slices
3 cans of stewed tomatoes
1 small can tomato sauce
1 can Rotel
3 small cans green chilies
3 tablespoons minced garlic
32 ozs beef broth
32 ozs vegetable broth
32 ozs water
1 glug red wine
Steak seasoning

Cu your beef into cubes, sprinkle well with steak seasoning -- I'm currently using Head Country Original, but use the one you like -- and throw it into a pan with some oil to brown.

While the meat is browning, dice your onion, and chunk your taters. Throw them into a large stock-pot with all the canned stuff, the broth, and the water.

Once the beef is browned, toss it into the pot, and then use your red wine to deglaze the pan. Bung all those glorious bits into the stock-pot. Add everything else, except only the carrots, and simmer for an hour. Stir occasionally.

After an hour, throw in the carrots and let simmer for another half-hour.

Voila! Cowboy stew.


Friday, September 18, 2020

Requiescat in pace

Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg has passed on.

Though I disagreed with some of her decisions, she was passionate, honourable, articulate, and her legal decisions were well-thought.

I hope that memories of the good times provide a solace to her kith and kin; and I will light a candle for her shade.

Walk in beauty, Joan Ruth Bader Ginsburg.


Friday, September 11, 2020

We remember in September

12 SEP 1683, at 1600 hours, Polish infantry skirmished their way to some flat ground outside of the besieged city of Vienna, and paused while their king -- Jan III Sobieski -- and 3,000 of his Winged Hussars emerged from the tree-line. The Ottoman commander facing them sent a few companies to probe the Polish lines, at which point the Polish infantry fell back, leaving the heavy Hussars in place. 

Seeing the Polish infantry retreating, the Ottoman commander ordered his cavalry on the left wing to engage the Poles and drive them from the battlefield. One can only imagine the shock of the Sipahis when the Hussars began a canter towards them; indeed, the German infantry troop of the Holy Roman Empire to the left of the Hussars paused in awe as the Polish heavy cavalry lowered lances and burst into a full gallop at 50 paces from the Ottoman forces. 

And then the Ottomans learned that in the Winged Hussars they faced the finest cavalry in the world, as they were smashed and scattered to the winds. 

At 1800 hours, the Ottoman cavalry dead or fled, King Jan III Sobieski linked up with allied elements and personally led his 3,000 Winged Hussars, an additional 17,000 friendly cavalry, and his set of ordnance-steel family jewels into the elite Janissary infantry of the Ottoman Empire like the fist of an angry god. 

The Janissaries, who were guarding the Ottoman encampment, did their level best against the Husaria. They really did, managing to slow the furious charge, before they broke under the lance-points and thrashing hooves of the Winged Hussars, and allowing the Polish king to drive straight through the heart of the Ottoman encampment. 

At that, Turkish lines collapsed, and routed. As many as 15,000 dead littered the wake of the charge. Another 5,000 Ottoman troops were taken prisoner. 

Three hours after the Poles entered the game, King Jan III Sobieski walked clanked into the empty tent of Kara Mustafa Pasha, Grand Vizier of the Ottoman Empire. 

Kara Mustafa probably should have hung around -- on Christmas Day of that year, at the direct orders of the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire, Kara Mustafa was strangled for the crime of having had his butt handed to him by 3,000 raging winged Poles and their steel-spined king. 

Thanks to Poland and her children, on 12 SEP 1683, the Turkish invasion of Europe took a metaphorical punch to the nose, and in 1699, the Ottoman Empire signed the Treaty of Karlowitz, which ended Turkish rule over Central Europe.

We remember in September.


Tuesday, September 01, 2020

Writing, writing, writing ...

... So have some fox memes.



Friday, August 28, 2020

On Kyle Rittenhouse

 Colion Noir -- a lawyer -- has a good break-down of the legal situation, as of the current date.

If your legal degree is from Google U, you should watch this.


Wednesday, August 26, 2020

Not family friendly.

Thought for today:



In biker and inmate slang "FAFO" is a useful term. It is a low-level warning, a general statement about the Nature Of Things, and a kind of Zen philosophy.

It stands for "F(ool) Around and Find Out", understanding that the first word isn't "fool". The past tense is: "F(ool)ed Around and Found Out".

As a warning, it also implies that the person should accept responsibility for the consequences.

The best example of this was when I was walking through Intake, and spotted Waldo the Wonder Biker leaning against a corner of the holding tank, both eyes swollen shut, nose broken, and blood from his waist to the back of his head. Blinking a bit from the surprise I asked Waldo what happened.

Hocking a bloody lump the size of a kiwi fruit in my general direction, he growled, "I [deleted] around and found out, LT."

Whole bunch of folks who have been fooling around in far-Left Democratic strongholds are taking their foolishness into less-Leftist areas ... and finding out.

The latest is in Kenosha, Wisconsin, and seems to be a pretty spectacular example of "Finding Out", and while I won't speculate on the legal details of the shooting, some of the pictures are probably going to wind up in trauma lectures.

Folks f(ool)ed around, they found out; and now the million-dollar questions are: 1) Will they take responsibility for their [deleted]ing around that led to the finding out? 2) Will everyone else learn from this, and modifying their future fooling around?

Survey says:  Probably not.



Thursday, August 20, 2020

Clown shoes all the way down.

Well, the Democratic National Convention has been ... interesting.

So far the capper has been Bill Clinton finger-wagging at Donald Trump regarding how the Oval Office should be treated: 

“At a time like this, the Oval Office should be a command center. Instead, it’s a storm center. There’s only chaos. Just one thing never changes — his determination to deny responsibility and shift the blame. The buck never stops there.”
~Bill Clinton, address to the DNC 18 AUG 2020


Goodness. It's not like his famous quote: "I'm going to say this again: I did not have sexual relations with that woman, Miss Lewinsky." was a determination to deny responsibility.

His other famous quote -- to a Grand Jury, attempting to do ... something ... with the blame -- is even more famous: "That depends on what the meaning of 'is' is."

And I'd like to know just who signed off on a speech regarding how the Oval Office should be treated by the former President who used a 20-year-old female intern as a cigar humidor.

Really, folks? This was a good idea?

It's a maxim that mockery ends political campaigns. You can survive scandals, -- hell, you can even drown a woman in a car -- and go on to have a lengthy political career; but the moment you become a laughing-stock you're done.

I'd say that someone needs to point out to the "Progressives" that if the jokes write themselves regarding your convention and your candidates, things might be a little rocky; but, as Le Petit Caporal once allegedly said, "Never interfere with your enemy when he is making a mistake."

Ah, well. At least the memes coming out of the Democratic National Convention should be brutal.

Carry on, "Progressives".


Tuesday, August 18, 2020

No, cupcake. Now what?

Whole bunch of Pantifa, (Some) Black Lives Matter, random anarchist/Marxist/nihilist groups getting their tenders all up in a cramp because people are posing pictures and videos of their nightly exploits on the InterToobz, the constabulary are using the pics to snatch up up their buddies; and they would like folks to stop posting such.

I am, as the man said, disinclined to acquiesce to your request.

And, truth be told, I really don't care if your little dacoit buddies are getting turfed into the hoosegow. Matters not one whit to me. Matter of fact, if your Progressive allies in office want to get your felonious buddies out, and drop charges altogether, that's fine. Get on with your bad selves.

How-some-ever, I want the public to see what your "progressive" movement is actually like. I want the voting public to be spoon-fed your "progressive" antics until they are sick unto nausea about it, and then I want that same voting public's (metaphorical) nose rubbed in your "progressivism" until it gets through their little heads that some of them voted the politicians in place who have fostered this bushwa, who tolerate the violence, and who endorsed the anarchy.

I want the voting public to finally get tired of paying the salaries of university professors who spark-plug this mess.

I want the voting public to be so ashamed of their complicity in voting for those idiots, and so enraged at your antics that they use the polls and their wallets to land on the Progressive movement like the fist of a furious and wrathful god.

So. No, I will not stop posting pictures and videos of rioters. I will not stop adding commentary that makes those pictures and videos stick in viewer's minds.

Nothing but love,


Monday, August 17, 2020

Are you not entertained?

The subject I referred to in my last post was the man who got soccer-kicked in the head by a "mostly-peaceful protester" in Portland on 17 AUG 2020. Details can be found here.

Go to that link. Watch the video of an unresisting man, sitting the street as ordered by the crowd that yanked him out of his pickup, soccer-kicked in the head from behind. Listen to the crowd howl and snarl at him.

Let everyone you know see that video.

And, for the sake of various and sundry deities -- stay the hell away from those areas. 

As for the Progressive Democrats:

This is on you.

The "Progressive" mayor of Portland, with his mealy-mouthed kowtowing to "restorative justice", his refusal to even admit that the protests were getting violent, and his hamstringing of the Portland Police Bureau has fostered the atmosphere that led to this.

And the "Progressive" voters in Portland who put him in office, need to take a big, honking bite of the blame, too.

The "Progressive" District Attorney of Portland, with his list of freebie crimes that protesters will not be charged with after they brazenly commit them -- fostered the atmosphere that led to this.

And the "Progressive" voters that put that District Attorney in office -- they share in that blame, also.

To everyone else, I say:

Here is your free, three month trial version of rule by Progressive Democrats.  Portland. Seattle. Minneapolis.  All run by "Progressives".

You liking what you see so far? Are you enjoying the Twitter videos of "mostly-peaceful" rioters burning, and looting, and destroying, and terrifying everything they can get their slimy little claws on? Are you titillated reading the reports of the rapes, and the thefts, and the assaults, and the shootings inside their "peaceful" little Occupied Zones?

Are you not entertained?

The Democrat Party has bought into this "Progressive Democracy" lock, stock, and barrel. Some of them publicly approve of it.  Those that don't tacitly approve of it.

Might keep that in mind when you go to the polls in November.

Just saying.


The long game.

Today brings video of yet another  Reginald Denney moment: (yet another) rampaging mob yanks a dude out of his pickup and (yet again) beats him into brain damage, and (yet again) celebrates it.

A whole lot of scary people are starting to make that (metaphorical) low-in-the-throat growling sound, and I'd like to talk to y'all for a moment.

My buddy SwampRabbit has been saying that the Left is desperately looking for their "Kent State moment", and he is correct.

The only way that the Media, and their Democratic handlers, can salvage this Antifa/BLM mess is through the Ballistic Beatification of a rioters (or a group of them). So I'm asking you: stay out of it.

For a little while, at least.

I'm not saying ignore it -- forward every video of mobs committing criminal acts, and remind folks which political party controls that area. If the elected officials in that area have been supporting the riots, remind people of that, too.

Let the mobs burn, and assault, and steal. And let the Democrats own it.

Because they do:  in spades.

You only have to do this until the week after the election.

If you're bloody sick and tired of this, and you're of a mind to do something about it -- and I've talked to several folks who ARE DONE -- I understand, but I'd prefer you let things shake out on their own.

But if you can't do that -- if you cant let it go -- don't help the Left.

If you can't just let the locals sort it out -- don't give the Left their bleeding headlines.

Wait until after the election is done.



Friday, August 14, 2020

Support Starving Authors

Friend Rob Reed has a new anthology out

In addition to Rob, there are a couple more of my friends in it, so if you'd like to throw some money at them, I'd take it as a kindness.


Tuesday, August 11, 2020

Well, my days of not taking you seriously ...

... are certainly coming to a middle.

Yesterdays rant concerning the tyranny of good intentions managed to generate the following comment from a Nony Mouse: 

 "And then there were the soldiers during WW I who got up on their high horses about being told what to do, and refused to wear their gas masks....."

I actually had to read that one twice, and I probably need a logic check, but it sure looks to me like Nony there is making a case that COVID19 is the equivalent of WEAPONISED PHOSGENE GAS; and that a square of cotton t-shirt fabric is the equivalent of a WW1 Small Box Respirator.


If we go with the most pessimistic mortality rate (found here), and using the age range for World War 1 soldiers -- we'll call it "15 to 34" -- looks like a 0.6% fatality rate, or about 6 men out of a thousand.

Oh, yeah. Just like weaponised phosgene.

"Ve vill use gas on the Allies!"


"500 of zhem vill never even notice it!"

"Wait, what?"

"Maybe as many as 700!"

"Are you serious?"

"Of the remaining three hundred or so, most will have mild to moderate symptoms!"

"That's it?"

"And ze symptoms vill be ameliorated if zhey tie undt handkerchief or dishrag to zere face!"

"... !"

"Undt vun to six might die!"

""We're going to gas this Allied battalion of a thousand soldiers, and half of them will never notice it, while the rest will have 'mild to moderate' symptoms, and a hand-full 'might' die, leaving the other nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-five with symptoms ranging from 'hay-fever' to 'a cold'?"


"Which sodding side are you on again?"

Juuussttt like phosgene.


This wanton hysteria -- and comparing COVID19 to phosgene gas IS absolutely wanton, wallowing hysteria -- isn't doing US Public Health any favours, and quite honestly, has left "Little Boy Crying Wolf" in the dust.

COVID19 isn't 'just like phosgene', it isn't 'like typhoid', or 'pneumonic plague'. 

It's a nasty Influenza-Like Illness with a 99% survival rate, and the majority of deaths clustered in the elderly with comorbidities.

And like I said previously, most (83%) of those vulnerable elders with comorbidities are already in facilities that are under stringent new health rules and quarantine laws, so you screeching that I'm imperiling your grandmother still doesn't hold water.


Monday, August 10, 2020

Feeling colonial and pugnacious


2 ounces gin
5 ounces tonic water

Put your ice in a highball glass, and squeeze in some lime. Add the gin, I prefer Plymouth, but New Amsterdam was all I could find. 

Gently pour in your tonic water -- you don't want to lose too much of the fizz. I like Fever-Tree's Premium Indian, but any good one will do. 

Squeeze in some more lime (Gunsmith Joe recommends "double the amount of lime you think should be in there"), and sip on your front porch while glaring at the neighbors and wondering if they have a flag.


On tyranny

“Of all tyrannies, a tyranny sincerely exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive. It would be better to live under robber barons than under omnipotent moral busybodies. The robber baron's cruelty may sometimes sleep, his cupidity may at some point be satiated; but those who torment us for our own good will torment us without end for they do so with the approval of their own conscience. They may be more likely to go to Heaven yet at the same time likelier to make a Hell of earth. This very kindness stings with intolerable insult. To be "cured" against one's will and cured of states which we may not regard as disease is to be put on a level of those who have not yet reached the age of reason or those who never will; to be classed with infants, imbeciles, and domestic animals.”
~ C.S. Lewis

I see little difference between "Omnipotent moral busybodies" and "moral busybodies with the Mandate of Heaven", or to quote another noted philosopher:

"There's nothing worse than a monster who thinks he's right with God."
~ Malcolm Reynolds

According to the Center for Retirement Research at Boston College, only about 17% of adult children in the United States care for their elderly parents "at some point during their lives".

Think about that: of every 100 people you meet at the restaurant, the grocery store, or the park, 17 of them are taking care of, will take care of, or have taken care of, their elderly parents.

The other 83% of the people you meet at the hardware store, the church, or the beach are letting Grandma be taken care of by home health aides, independent living facilities, assisted living facilities, long-term care facilities, nursing homes, or hospitals.

For the elderly living at their own homes, and being taken care of by home health aides -- if they aren't self-isolating and protecting themselves ... that's on them, not me.

For those elderly in some kind of facility -- the government is mandating some kind of protection for these folks ... again, that's on someone else, not me.

To stand in a parking lot, a beach, a boat-ramp, or a restaurant and scream that a random stranger whom you've never met and will likely not ever meet again is endangering your grandmother by not wearing a mask is not only a lie, rude, and a misdemeanor Breach of the Peace, but it is also tyranny.

If you're one of the 17 who are taking care of your elderly patient (we'll ignore the part of that 17% who "will take care of in the future" and the part that "took care of in the past" and just assume that all 17 have an elderly parent at home), gods bless you, and if you're that worried -- stay home.

If you're one of the 83 that are relying on Decubitus Acres Nursing Home, or God's Waiting Room Assisted Living Centre to took care of Grandma -- the State government has rules to protect them.

It is tyranny to demand that I change my ways and habits to provide "protection" to independent people who should be taking care of that themselves, or to provide "protection" to people whom the government is already going overboard to protect.

And if you want to scream at me, and spit, you're about to have a quick lesson in the reality of droplet protection provided by your floral silk mask using OC droplets for the demonstration.

Given that OC droplets are considerably bigger than the droplets your mask is allegedly protecting your from, you're liable to be somewhat disappointed in your mask.

Matter-of-fact, it should even be a lesson to learn from.

Just saying.

Do not bloody shriek at me.


Thursday, August 06, 2020

Requiescat in pace.

Dr William Aprill died this morning.

He was a former Orleans Parish (Louisiana) deputy sheriff who became a licensed health care professional.

His class "Unthinkable" combined those two elements to give people an insight into the mind and motivations of violent criminals. That class was an eye-opener for me, and for Herself.

We are truly diminished.


Hair stabbies

Herself has been teaching courses at a Liberal Arts university in near-by Little Big City, and despite being in Texas, the university is rather Non-Permissive when it comes to defending yourself.

Big on "Thoughts, Prayers, and Action Committees", short on anything -- you know -- effective.

So, when I heard that our friend Ben over at Bjorn Bladeworks was making a run of his Murder Needles, I ordered a set in Jade for her.

These little jewels are fairly simple:  about 3/4 of an ounce of G10, about 9 inches in length, and a diamond cross-section about half an inch thick at its widest.

And the narrow end ground to the wickedest little needle point you can put on a stick of high-pressure fibreglass and resin composite.

The execution is simple elegance:  it goes in your hair. Unless you're Toshiro Mifune (and he doesn't need a hair stabbie), this limits it somewhat to the distaff side of the species -- and I'm okay with this.

For those who aren't familiar with it, G10 is a material used in knife and pistol grips for decades.  It is high-strength (for a fibreglass/resin laminate) and doesn't absorb moisture, or -- important here -- hair oil.

Hair sticks are used by the ladies to hold and/or decorate hairbuns, pony-tails, and other hair-dos, and go completely unnoticed by 99% of everyone. I guarantee you've walked by a woman with pencils, knitting needles, pens, dowel rods, or stainless-steel straws stuck through a bun -- and never gave it a second thought.

Yes, LawDog, but how does it work?

Well, I'm glad you asked. When I ordered the ones for Herself, Ben contacted me and asked if I would like one for testing? 

Hell, yes.


In my backyard is a heavy bag that I've modified over the years. Currently the inside is a couple of rolls of carpet, a metric butt-ton of sand, and a polymer centre core. I wandered out there, and under the supervision of Chuy the Wonder Chiweenie, gave it a flat-footed WTF? stab:

Five inches.

Rather impressed, I gave it a full fencing lunge:

Turns out the polymer core in my heavy bag is about 7 inches in.

Deep breath, and I went full Monkey With A Screwdriver:

Not sure how deep I went during the cycles, but I hit my thumb and index knuckles on the bag most of the time, so 4 - 6 inches?

Yes. These will do nicely.

Now, don't get me wrong -- these are last-ditch, one-incident-use tools for places where the Light Of Your Life isn't allowed to carry anything more substantial. 

Are they as good as a real knife or a firearm? Of course not, but they're a damned sight better than fingernails and harsh language.

By "One-incident-use tools" I mean exactly that. If your Best Beloved has to pin-cushion Joe Critter or Abdul the Moderately Rabid, these little darlings are going to wind up in a evidence bag, an Operating Room floor, or the rubbish bin.

They're $30, plus shipping. If the surgeon winds up pulling her old ones out of her Personal Chew Toy, buy her another set. Ben's email (if you don't like Facebook) is:


These little jewels get the LawDog Paw of Approval.


Ben has asked me to post a link to the FaceBook Murderneedles page.


Edit 2: 
Blogger borked the photos. Should be working now.


Wednesday, August 05, 2020

Brain-cramp Wednesday

... Have some fox memes.

That should do until I can get my bloody muse tracked down.


Tuesday, August 04, 2020

Voting by mail

I have concerns about the whole "vote-by-mail" idea for this November.

It's not so much the idea that "vote-by-mail" is more susceptible to fraud -- although it is. Not as fraught with fraud as the doom-sayers are complaining, but it's damned sure not "negligible", either.

No, my primary concern is with human nature, and the current state of our Nation.

We are a divided house. This upcoming election, and the results there-of, has a pretty good potential to be rather festive -- and needs to be as clear-cut and unambiguous as possible.

I realize that in the current socio-political climate "clear-cut and unambiguous" is difficult, but as many variables that can be controlled, need to be controlled regarding this election.

Mail-in ballots have a nasty habit of being sent, or arriving, past the deadline for being counted -- just ask the military in any election since Carter.

I am concerned that a significant number of ballots this November will be past the deadline. And that will be bad.

When that happens -- and it will happen -- somebody is immediately going to sue to allow those ballots to be counted. And someone else will -- correctly -- counter-sue for them not to be counted.

And the Supreme Court will wind up having to make a decision on who gets to be POTUS.

Do you see what's making me concerned?

If the side that argues from a moral standpoint that all votes -- even late ones -- should be counted, is the losing side ... this election is tainted.

If the side that argues from a legal standpoint that deadlines are there for a reason is the losing side ... this election is tainted.

This is not the time in our Nation's history for a tainted election. Way too many people have their identities wrapped up politics. Way too many people are treating politics like a religion. When one side regards the other side as heretics ... well, religion excuses -- if not glorifies -- a lot of bad acts.

I'm not happy about mail-in voting this year, and I don't think anyone else should be, either.


Monday, August 03, 2020

Art History

Dr Travis Lee Clark is a friend of ours, and a genuinely nice guy.

More than that, he's a gifted teacher with a true passion for his subject, a passion which shines through, and drags the listener along.

His subject is Art History, and he has recently launched a YouTube channel of lectures on that subject. 

I would take it as a kindness if my Gentle Readers would have a click on his videos (they're free, they're fascinating, and they're educational!), and get the YouTube algorithms to give him some love.

Thank you.


Thursday, July 30, 2020

Self-awareness much?

By way of Larry Correia, we find this article.

The money quote is this one (R-rated):

"I'm seeing African American Federal Protective Service inspectors, 20 year's [a] law enforcement officer, being called the N-word to their face for the first time in their careers, by a scrawny, pasty white booger-eating communist shithead.” 

What I find amusing is that these exact same crotch-dumplings who are calling African-Americans "niggers" -- we're not sugar-coating this one, folks -- have a case of the hips at the President for being racist.

Let that one sink in.

They're mad at the President for being racist, and during their hissy-fit, they apparently freely use what has become the most vile epithet towards African-Americans possible ... towards African-Americans.

Y'all have lost the moral high-ground here, children. Not that you've ever actually had the moral high-ground, but boy, howdy, did y'all reverse-4-1/2-somersault-in-the-pike-position yourselves into the very septic tank that you revile the President for.

I give the Portland schmucks 9 out of ten for hypocrisy; but 0 out of ten for self-awareness.


Tuesday, July 28, 2020

Smartphones ...

... Are evil, and should be buried.

Trust your fox.



I graduated from the Panhandle Regional Law Enforcement Academy 06 AUG 1993.

I retired from law enforcement 14 APR 2020.

It was a good ride. There were fun moments, tearful ones, times that broke my heart, and moments of exultation.

There are ghosts who whisper from the shadowed corners of my bedroom at 4am -- ones that I never would have thought would be there; and others who probably should be there, but have never showed.

I have seen the ten thousand ways that man is inhumane to man; but I have also seen the nobility in everyday people, and that has been a rare and precious gift.

But it was time for me to go, and given the recent events, I probably didn't retire too soon.

So, on to the next phase in my life. I think -- and Herself agrees -- that I should probably try being serious about this whole Writing Thing.

We shall see.

20+ years. Bloody hell.

LawDog (ret.)

Monday, July 27, 2020

Whats with the foxes?

Folks who follow me on Facebork often ask about my predilection for Vulpes vulpes, which  --considering the number of foxes memes I make -- is a completely valid question.

The answer is many-fold. 

The first is that I simply like foxes. The are cunning, resourceful, and adaptable; having spread to every continent on this little green dirtball with the exception of Antarctica -- and if you wait until they get the plotting and logistics done probably that frozen hell, too.

They are efficient hunters, surprisingly good fighters; and are featured in many mythos -- usually as a Trickster figure.

What really endeared them to me was watching a mated couple outside the barracks at Aberdeen Proving Grounds. Every evening the male would come trotting back to the den with a mouthful of dead rodents -- very much with the air of a guy in a red flannel suit heading home after an exhausting day at the office -- where he'd be greeted with a nuzzle by the lady of the den, and they'd feed the pups.

Something about that contented domesticity during a very chaotic period of my life sang to me.

Years later a friend bought a carved soapstone fox totem and gave it to me, and for years I carried that little carving, or others that my mother found, to remind me to be adaptable; that cunning (done properly) was usually better than force; and that when it came down to fighting, to be sneaky, vicious, and unpredictable.

It doesn't hurt, I suppose, that I am a red-headed, slender-framed male of average height, as far as the fox comparisons go.

However, the biggest reason for the fox memes is that Facebork is one of the levels of Social Media Hell, and making fox memes keeps me out of trouble with Zuckerborg and his legion of easily-offended uber-minions.

This has been your Monday what-the-hell-am-I-gonna-post edition. Have another fox:


Thursday, July 23, 2020

Writing music

I can't write if there's music with words in it being played.

My mind takes the words coming in my ears, and completely blocks the words coming out of my fingers.

However, when I'm writing and I hit a point where the words are jumbling together trying to come out, I find that if I step away from the screen, and listen to some music away from my writing area, it sometimes resets things, and the words start coming out in order again.

When I was writing 'Blood On The Sand', my initial story was supposed to end in the souk, eating tajine with Bob Reno, but the words started piling up, so I went into the backyard to pace with my Pandora app on my phone.

This song came up, and I listened to it three or four times before coming back inside and writing the final scene.

Rather proud of the last bit. Some folks have offered that it's a bit cheesy, but I'm a sucker for the old pulps, where the good guys are good; the bad guys lose; and there's at least a chance of happiness no matter how crappy things are.


Oh, boy. Comments.

Regarding the whole Fed mess in Portland, and their uniforms:

You do remember that this is the blog of a guy who once wrote a ticket wearing this badge on a Bugs Bunny t-shirt, right?

Texas Rangers conduct arrests every day -- and have for decades -- in slacks, a white shirt, and a very small badge. No name visible, no agency patch, no badge number, and using unmarked cars.

Anyone ever seen an ID number on an FBI agent during their day-to-day arrests? Agency patch? Badge number? Anyone know what the official colour scheme is for an FBI vehicle?

The Border Patrol has been sued over the last decade or so for everything under the sun. If their BORTAC uniforms violated something, one of the rather well-funded law groups who cycle them through the courts would have capitalized upon that by now.

As an aside, don't think I haven't noticed folks who have been angrily telling me that "No-knocks are unnecessary -- he could have been safely snatched off the street on his way to work!" since 1999 are squalling when people ... get snatched off the street.

Likewise, don't think I haven't noticed the folks who have been pounding the war drum about "Police should not be using MRAPS and other military vehicles! No militarization of police!" are losing their poo about the police using civilian vehicles.

"Tommy sees", as Kipling once wrote.

That being said, the current Fed response in Portland is not the way I would have handled it.

What should have been done is that all Federal assets in Portland should have been yanked out and re-located somewhere else. Boise, maybe. All Federal business needed to be conducted, drive to Boise.

You've got business in Federal court? Boise.

Your boo gets snatched up on a Federal warrant? He's in Boise. You bonded him out? He's been released. In Boise.

I would house all Federal personnel in hotels in Boise, and send an itemized bill to Portland every week for their housing. And when Portland refused to pay, I'd have a press conference on the courthouse steps, explain the issue, and gently explain that because Portland wasn't paying their bill, we would be deducting the costs from Federal monies going to Portland.

And when Portland started refusing to pay taxes, I'd get my best legal minds to write the arrest warrants, crossing every 't', and dotting every 'i', and they'd be incarcerated in Boise.

Portland should be left to burn. They voted the idiots into office who are allowing this to happen, the citizens are tolerating this stupidity, and they should be left to wallow in it until the citizens decide to fix their issues.


Wednesday, July 22, 2020

I'm actually really impressed

Banging around the Intartubz this morning, and Google has my number because an advert for this little gem popped up:


That, Gentle Readers, is a fillet blade designed to be mounted on the reciprocating saw in your shop.

Two things immediately crossed my mind:

1) Having broken down a deer by the side of the road with some friends (Hi, Kelly!) and a sawzall -- why didn't I come up with this genius idea?

2) Southern boys were involved.

Now I have to find a cheap battery-powered sawzall before the big catfish start running.


Nothing quite like ...

... Watching people get what they've been begging, no: crying out for.

We note with some amusement the recent happenings in the city of Portland, Oregon, where the decidedly pro-Socialist, if not full on-pro-Communist, little bugsnipes have been besieging Federal assets in that city since at least the pre-COVID contretemps over unlawful immigration.

For the record: the Federal agents conducting arrests and detentions in Portland are neither "Nameless" nor "Faceless", and the agencies they belong to are not "Anonymous". Every picture I've seen of these agents have their agency patches in clear view, as well as an ID number, but that is neither here nor there.

What just kicks over my giggle box is the fact that the protesters in Portland -- these young people and their handlers who are so enamored of the centralized Big Government which is necessary for the social programs they are screaming so passionately about ...

... Don't seem to realize that kind of government inevitably comes with a side of secret police.

Every government that is big enough, and powerful enough to take enough money from enough citizens to give you that free healthcare, and that free college, and that Universal Basic Income, and that Student Loan Forgiveness, and all the other tax-funded "free" stuff that those little Marxist numpties in Portland are screaming for has a KGB, or a Stasi, or a Ministry of State Security.

Just as sure as night follows day; as sure as nits make lice; and as sure as Death -- every Socialist Utopia has a Gestapo lurking somewhere.


How are you liking your free trial of Socialism, Portland?

Weren't expecting the whole "Nacht und Nebel" thing, were you? Aww.

I'm willing to bet that if you'd taken a history course or three and actually listened, instead of searching the texts for something to be offended by, or outright burning the books, you just might have seen this coming.

And the really fun part is:  all of these arrests and detentions by BORTAC and the USMS? They ain't a patch on what a real secret police would do to you.

Ask the kids in Hong Kong, although you'll need ouija board to do so, I'm afraid.

Sigh. Y'all are shrieking for Socialism, but when you're faced with the shadow of the hem of the garment of the omelette-making that real Socialism requires ... you squall like kicked pups.



Tuesday, July 21, 2020

Little dusting ...

Well, hopefully the world has decided to quit (metaphorically) working my liver and kidneys like a speed-bag.

Firing this place back up, I think. I need to concentrate on my writing, and Facebork is too much of a time suck.

I've pruned out the links on the sidebar, added some more.

Long-time Gentle Readers will notice a lot of the law enforcement stuff that was on the sidebar is gone, I'm trending away from law enforcement, with pertinent news regarding that situation to be released in a bit.

All law enforcement stories are still here, never fear.

Those of you who know me on Facebook probably have a pretty good idea what that news is, but I'm keeping it under my Stetson for a bit. I promise to let everyone know when it's the proper time.

Sharp eyes will also note the addition of a Donations button on the left. The LawDog Files will never put ads up -- I can't stand reading a site where I have to click out of an advert every ten seconds, and I refuse to inflict that on my Gentle Readers -- but it has been rammed into my thick skull that a small 'Donations" button isn't intrusive, and apparently a good lot of you think I need one, so it's up.

We'll see how long it lasts.


Feeling melancholy

I was banging around Facebook and wound up answering a variation of the question:  "What gun for hippopotamus"*, which kind of sent me down a bit of a rat-hole.

That map should be of the old SEDCO site that my father cut out of the Nigerian jungle. It is where my father launched a man-pig (and the tree he was laired under) into orbit with a backpack full of gelignite; where the engineers gave us the best 4th of July ever, and where we watched Brigadier-Captain Azikiwe drift down the river in a sinking boat.

The island marked "Ultralog Global Control" is where we released Squeaks the Battle Mongoose after we found out we couldn't take him to the States; and the river around it is where we freed Electro the electric catfish, for the same reason.

I realize that nothing lasts forever -- particularly in the jungle -- but there's nothing left of what dad built.

And that really sucks right now.

I'm given to understand that the AdCAP site on Saadiyat Island is even worse -- apparently Abu Dhabi turned the whole island into a playground for the ultra-rich -- but I never really had the same fondness for Abu Dhabi that I did for Nigeria.

Little punch in the gut to see the SEDCO site covered over with a suburb.


* The answer starts with '4' and ends with 'Rigby' or 'Nitro Express'.

New anthology

Happy to report that I have a story in Peter Nealen's anthology SpotReps.

It's titled "Blood On The Sand", but the working title was "Turbomurder In Tangiers", which is a pretty good description of the story.

I'm quite chuffed to tell my Gentle Readers that I channeled my inner 1980s pulp men's novel and went to town, so if you're looking for humour, you might not want to pick it up. However, if you're looking for bad guys getting shot in the face, then you might like this little story.


Tuesday, March 24, 2020

Stop panicking over bad data

Sit, down, pour a bourbon, light a cigar, and indulge me in a mental exercise.

In this exercise, postulate that we have a population of a thousand people.

In this population, a disease gets loose -- we'll call it "Albino Brain Chiggers" -- and one hundred people wind up in the hospital. Of the hundred in hospital, two of them die.

That's a 2% mortality rate, and is fairly significant

However, turns out that a hundred other people had Albino Brain Chiggers, but it was a mild case that looked a lot like the usual seasonal respiratory illness, and they did what they always do: drank water, took Motrin, changed their socks, and drove on.

Since they didn't bother getting medical attention, their stats don't get counted, but they should: because it means that 200 people had ABC, but only two died -- which is a mortality rate of 1%.


Take a sip, have a puff.

Now, let's go one further. L
et us postulate that half of all Albino Brain Chigger cases are "asymptomatic", that is, the folks that have it never know. They continue about their lives, never getting sick, and, thus ... never seeking medical attention. And never getting tested.

Half means that actually 400 people had ABC. And only two died.

That's ... let me get my shoes off ...

... A 0.5% mortality rate.

The data regarding the Wuhan Virus you are currently getting is corrupted. Badly.

It's corrupted because we had to develop a test for this thing, the numbers of tests are still kind of limited, and because of that we're only testing sick people. We're not testing the mild cases that just drive on, and we're damned well not testing the asymptomatic cases.

It's also corrupted because -- let's face it: Anybody who trusts any information from the Chinese Government, or any socialist government for that matter, should have their Licence To Adult taken away.

And since this whole mess started in China, a whole bunch of people who ought to know better are still using mortality numbers provided by the Chinese Government.

(Willing to bet that "Death by COVID-19" has overtaken "Death by Suicide" amongst wide swaths of Chinese dissidents, wrong-thinkers, political prisoners, and other folks deemed "undesirable" by the Chinese government.)

Be that as it may, the Chinese government can, will, and has lied to the rest of the world about things much less important than the Wuhan Virus.

Corruption also comes from tests with false positives, false negatives, people who still think "over-reacting is the best way to proceed" if they're in doubt; and myriad uncountable other issues in the complicated problem that is a new illness.

Not to mention that at least one non-Chinese country is skewing the statistics regarding what"Death by COVID-19" actually is (I'm looking at you, Italy) and the plain and simple fact that not only do the testing protocols vary from country-to-country, they frequently vary between health systems in a single country.

Too long; didn't read:

Stop panicking over the mortality percentage. It's artificially elevated, and will only come down as testing improves.

Comments closed, because quite frankly the pearl-clutching is grating my nerves something fierce.


Sunday, March 22, 2020


By nature and by training I look for deviations from baselines, so when people started waving Italy under my nose and making boogeyman noises anytime anyone mentioned the Wuhan Virus vis a vis the United States, the massive deviation from baseline in the country's mortality rate caught my attention.

So, I started digging around.

First, did you know that the anti-vaxxer movement is apparently very significant in the Italian political scene?

How The Anti-Vaxxers Are Winning In Italy (Sep 2018)

According to that article, 85% of Italian children receive the first shot in the measles series, and only 83% receive the second.

To stop transmission of infections, 93-95 per cent of the population should be immunised, the herd immunity threshold. But in 2015, Italy’s paediatric measles vaccination rate was around 85 per cent for the first dose and 83 per cent for the second dose."

'Goodness, Self,' I thought, 'I wonder how that tracks with vaccines OTHER than measles?'

Actually, turns out it tracks pretty well.

Coverage Rate of Flu Vaccination In Italy (Jan 2020)

This statistic illustrates the coverage rate of flu vaccination in Italy from 2006 to 2018. Overall, the share of individuals getting vaccinated against flu has decreased over the period considered, reaching the lowest level during the season 2014-15 (13.6 percent). However, from 2014 onwards, the share of people getting vaccinated against flu steadily increased, reaching 15.3 percent during the flu season 2017-2018."

Honestly, that one made me blink, so I checked a little further.

Association Between Vaccination Coverage Decline ... (Aug 2018)

That one is depressing as hell to read, but it tracks true with the first.

How does no-one getting bloody vaccinated for sodding anything affect things in Italy?  Well, it turns out that if you get a respiratory illness rolling, Italians are going to die in job lots.

Investigating The Impact Of Influenza On Excess Mortality ... (Nov 2019)

The average annual mortality excess rate per 100,000 ranged from 11.6 to 41.2 with most of the influenza-associated deaths per year registered among the elderly. However children less than 5 years old also reported a relevant influenza attributable excess death rate in the 2014/15 and 2016/17 seasons (1.05/100,000 and 1.54/100,000 respectively)."

In the flu epidemic of 2014-2015, 20,258 Italians died. In the epidemic of 2016-2017 it was even worse, at 24,981.

But wait! There's more!

Keeping in mind that apparently the Italians don't necessarily believe in inoculations (see above). I'm pretty sure that the dismal numbers for measles vaccines and flu vaccines hold true across the spectrum, but -- quite frankly -- the fact that Italy has a worse vaccine coverage than sodding Equatorial Africa depressed me too much to go looking further.

So, bearing in mind that the Italian anti-vaxxer movement seems to be riding that entire peninsula like a rented mule, look what we have here:

Why Have So Many Coronavirus Patients Died In Italy? (Mar 2020)

 On re-evaluation by the National Institute of Health, only 12 per cent of death certificates have shown a direct causality from coronavirus, while 88 per cent of patients who have died have at least one pre-morbidity - many had two or three,” he says"

What that means is that if you die in an Italian hospital of the measles (that you were never inoculated for), but the autopsy shows the Wuhan Virus, you get entered as a COVID-19 death.

You can be asymptomatic for COVID-19, and die of a heart attack because you ate nothing but baked brie for 58 years, and it's a coronavirus death.

Didn't get a pneumonia shot, and (bloody surprise!) die of pneumonia, but they find coronavirus? It's a coronavirus death.


As of my writing this, 5,000 Italians have died. That is a tragedy.

But they died because the anti-vaxxers have talked them out of getting flu shots; have dissuaded them from taking pneumonia inoculations; from giving their kids measles vaccine, and all of the other pokes in the arm that medical science in the First World spent decades developing.

5,000 Italians have died, but a lot of them died from the dumb. The coronavirus just carried the bullets for a while.

Stop waving Italy under my nose as an example of what's coming for the United States. We're not that stupid. Yet.

Comments are closed, because I don't feel like dealing with hysteria and hyperventilation.