I hope to update today’s quote, funny and beauty later.
(Things appear to have been resolved. We now take you back to the original blog, which is already in progress…)
as recently posted by The Queen of Snark (in part)
(…) In the wake of the Istanbul bombings, the people in charge of wrapping the world in foam padding are trying to figure out more ways to make us perfectly safe. Apparently this will put a security checkpoint at the edge of the airport grounds to screen you before you get to the security checkpoint inside which will screen you to get on the plane. It’s screeners all the way down!
…and if they move screening back to the airport access road, they set off a truck bomb in the traffic jam rather than a backpack bomb in the terminal.
The reductio ad absurdum of this, of course, is to avoid creating the security bottlenecks that make such target-rich environments by putting a TSA checkpoint outside every front door in America.
(and here’s the money line)
There’s just no practical way to nerf the world.
Yes, my friends, he is still here. Hanging on.
My blogfriend Wirecutter posted the following:
USA – -(Ammoland.com)- Liberty advocate, citizen journalist and self-described “smuggler” Mike Vanderboegh talked about his health, his blog and the principles of the “Three Percent” movement in an exclusive interview with this correspondent, recorded in late May. The audio file, converted to a YouTube video, is presented at the end of this introduction.
The file is a bit rough, and I need to take responsibility for that. I make no pretenses of being a videographer, and had never tried to record a Skype call before, which is how we did the interview. Since that doesn’t have a recording feature, free software was used which did not record video. Due to inexperience and lack of proper equipment, I was getting a reverberation loop or whatever you call it whenever Mike spoke — his voice going into his laptop microphone and then coming back out from his speakers after a fraction-of-a-second lag made the whole interview seem like a wasted effort. Fortunately, my son and his friend have both the software and skills to take the repetition out, so there are only a few instances of garbling. And in this case, it’s the message, not the presentation, that’s significant, and that comes through loud and clear.
Below is the video on youtube. Please share this everywhere. Send it to your friends, share it on facebook, share it on your firearms forums and tell them to start paying serious attention around the 9 minute mark.
Here is a man who is giving (has given?) his life for the American Principles on which he stands. He has traveled the Nation, at great personal expense, to debate issues of civil rights and liberties now largely lost to the American electorate.
My past couple of posts have asked you to take action. One was about letting BIGGOV know we won’t stand for them blocking rights of Social Security recipients. The second was asking you to send a message to the Troops, of thanks, via the USO.
Today, I have a third request. I asked this once before, back in January. Mike Vanderboegh has given so much to the cause of Liberty. Please help his family to deal with the many hits to their finances because of his declining health.
Paypal to firstname.lastname@example.org*
Check, money order, cash, etc. to Mike Vanderboegh, PO Box 926, Pinson, AL 35126.**
Thank you for your kindness.
(And, now for something completely different – as promised)
22 VETERANS COMMIT SUICIDE DAILY
Even ONE of these heroes making this choice is unacceptable! (Day #10 of 22)
It’s a cereal; it’s a board game. A defunct television series.
It also is what it is.
My favorite line from the James Bond books, is ‘M’ (the head of MI-6, Admiral Sir Miles Meservy) telling Bond when he complains about receiving an assignment change, “Things change, 007.”
And that might be one definition of Life. Things changing.
Of course, the best part are the good changes – grand nieces ascending from 6th Grade, and another graduating High School. Others having birthdays. A dear friend’s birthdays and their elder daughter getting her doctorate!
That dear friend (Bob Hall) being unable to be present for his daughter’s doctoral degree.
Daily dealing with issues regarding aging, illness and finances – both my roommate and I.
Friends, relatives and acquaintances becoming severely ill. Some almost certainly in their way out, others hanging-in-there, but…?
And some already gone. More than I ever expected.
Even some leaving voluntarily, but still present. Apparently, friends no longer. :-(
“Things change, Guffaw.”
I haven’t needed a fictional intelligence department head to tell me.
I already know.
Things are as they are.
This just in. Ray Carter passed this morning.
Puts my whining in perspective.
I’ve been ‘disabled’ since I was age 12. Legg Calve’ Perthes disease destroyed the cartilage and bone in my right hip, and was starting to attack my other hip and both knees. After much failed experimentation, ‘they’ were able to stop the advancement. ‘They’ decided the best course of action was to cast me, fusing my right leg at the hip. In 1966.
So my right leg is substantially shorter than my left, and fused at the hip.
I’ve lived my life this way. I’m used to it.
And, anyway, a hip replacement is elective and expensive.
In spite of this (in my youth), I ran, played, jogged, walked, took Kenpo karate, lifted weights…all manner of things!
Sadly, this disability kept me from joining the military or becoming a cop. Childhood dreams dashed.
But, in spite of my limitations, I never felt, well, disabled.
Yes, sometimes ‘it’ got in the way (like needing leg room to drive – straight leg, and all), but it never kept me from most things. I usually avoided wearing ‘Ed Sullivan-the really big shoe’* when I was younger, because I thought it made me look crippled. Which I was.
And I rarely felt sorry for myself. Well, sometimes.
But Life brought the addition of a serious car accident, diabetes and lymphoma, all potentially more lethal.
And Diffuse Type B Cell Lymphoma is listed as the ‘official’ reason for my Social Security Disability Income.
As of age 58.
And I am still here, now approaching age 64. Wearing ‘Ed’ more often.
My roommate J. has been having her own health issues for many years. They needn’t be enumerated here. Surgery pending on some. Suffice it to say we don’t get to gun shows much, anymore. Too much walking.
But she never asked for one of those disabled mirror hangers! I obtained one a while back, and we kept in in her car, as she does most of the driving, her car being in better shape then mine.
She finally remembered to ask her primary care doc for the form to get one! And got hers!
This meant I got to have and use mine for the first time the other day!
It’s official – I’m a gimp!
*Ed Sullivan was an entertainment reporter who hosted a TV variety show, from 1948-1971. He would announce he had a really big show, but pronounced it as shoe – hence the pun.
(My doctor, after examining my head(!)
correction – My EYE doctor, after my eye exam! :-) )
Part of my annual medical exam involves a visit to the ophthalmologist. You know, the guy who dilates your pupils to see what he can see.
Being a diabetic, there is always a concern. Diabetes, as it limits proper blood flow, can cause neuropathy (which I have) and even diminished flow to the eyes, which can cause blindness! Even with my ‘good’ blood work numbers.
I don’t like having my pupils dilated, and even more so do not like paying for the privilege. My eye doc does take Medicare (which I am on, due to my being disabled). Of course, every year there is the deductible.
And, it is the beginning of a new year.
So, I’d been putting it off until I could cobble some funds together.
My regular physician – knowing my predilections in this matter – sent a referral to the eye doc, who set up an appointment, and they called me with the date and time.
So there’s no avoidance…
Good news! They take payments! There is no sign of diabetic damage in either eye! AND my prescription hasn’t changed.
Until next year…
In 2003, Baltimore Sun Senior Editor of Design of Adam Marton had his car stolen by a black criminal named Thelonious; in 2015, Thelonious was murdered in Baltimore, and Marton penned a lament to his life lived without the benefit of white privilege…
In 2003, Baltimore Sun Senior Editor of Design of Adam Marton had his car stolen by a black criminal named Thelonious; in 2015, Thelonious was murdered in Baltimore, and Marton penned a lament to his life lived without the benefit of white privilege… The United States of America is irredeemable. As John Derbyshire noted, Europe seems to be much worse, as “the national institutions of the West are now fiercely protective of Muslims and hostile to the native ancestral populations.” But it’s okay. Seriously. Relax. Breath. Please.
I don’t know which is worse – the claim such a thing exists in 2016 America, or the fact this guy is so taken in by the idea that he is victimized, and then apologizes to the now-murdered criminal for his not having been born White?
Yes – we are all created equal. What we do with our lives afterward is what makes the difference.
I happen to have been born White. I’m not apologizing for that.
And being discriminated against, regardless of the reason, does hurt!
There are Black and White serial killers. Race-baiters. Doctors, scientists, actors, credit card fraud investigators. Men, women. People of all races on some kind of disability. Brown and Yellow ones, too. (and yes, I know that’s politically incorrect!)
I have been judged by others because I was White, disabled, and overweight. Had facial hair. Because I never lived in the South, or on a farm.
I’ve never (to my knowledge) received preferential treatment because of my skin color. I have been discriminated against because of it. And by being disabled.
As my friend (a former boss in two businesses) would say, “Time to put on your big boy pants!”
For every politically-correct whiner who didn’t get a job, or a promotion, or $100K employment after dropping out of high school, pay attention!
YOU MUST WORK FOR THINGS, AND SOMETIMES YOU WILL FAIL!
The Welfare State and the ‘gimmee everything I deserve it’ attitude is not serving you well.
h/t Brock Townsend
The other day I was playing with settings in WordPress, thinking about making some stylistic changes to the GiA blog.
And I hit a wrong key. Or something…
FIRST, I saw my blog, with pictures of carrots instead of cacti! Then, I noticed many of the staples of my blog page missing.
And I had to get to a doctor’s appointment!
SO, I posted a hurried apology and left.
And late that night, I was able to get GiA reconfigured back to her former glory – well, about 85% of it.
WHAT A PITA!
As to the next part – do I bother to tweak it back to the original, or do I just go ahead and move on to my ‘improvements’?
Who knows? I’ll figure it out.
We get what we pay for! :-P
I’m sitting here this morning (actually, a couple of days ago), doing my morning routine: shower, dress, morning rituals, medications, the all-important diet soda, the GiA blog, reading other blogs, news and emails…
Waiting for the stopping point. When my muscle pain and diabetic neuropathy kick in! Sometimes in an hour, sometimes more.
Pain in my extremities, feet, legs and even hindquarters. From SITTING for chrissake!
AND, I already took medications!
And I remember being young. Well, younger…
Lifting weights, walking long distances, jogging, karate – even with a fused hip! And the hot shower accompanied by perhaps a couple aspirin did the trick.
Well it did in my 30’s.
But alas, no more.
And I remember older people from my youth, whining and complaining about this pain or that ailment, and me having no understanding.
And even thinking it was funny.
Karma IS a heartless bitch!
And then I think of Bob, a recent 1/2 leg amputee currently braving throat cancer, and my attitude improves…
Gratitude, my friends, is the key!
I’m quietly resting on my laurels, thinking the ‘chores’ (a word from childhood I loathe!) are completed, when the lady of the house says to me,
“We have more plants to move in the back yard so the painters can access the walls.”
But, it must be done. After all, if we don’t move the stuff, the walls won’t get properly painted. And, I’m certain, the HOA would try to fine us for noncompliance with the bylaws. (Being a townhouse H.O.A. and all!)
So, it’s back out into the yard for us! Sigh.
Fortunately, we didn’t have THAT much to do. Mostly pry a large, overgrown yucca from it’s perch and move it about six feet away from the wall.
Using a shovel, hand truck and brute force.
(Note to self – Yucca are SHARP!)
BUT, we accomplished the task. Here is a picture of the side of the yard, showing about half the plants, tools, cacti and succulents we moved:
The offending yucca plant is left-of-center.
And, of course, once the painting, exterior maintenance and noise are completed, we will get to move everything BACK!
As my Dad used to say, no rest for the wicked!