3fgburner

Hey, something interesting enough (I think, anyway) to post

2022-04-11T11:46:58Z

Wow - an actual personal post, instead of just memes and snark.

So, an interesting week has begun. This past weekend, I attended a rather large event with a diverse (in the sense of different lives) crowd of people. Mrs Dex was extremely worried about the chance of COVID exposure. There could have been any number of plague rats wandering around among a couple thousand people. The closest thing the EVENT had, to precautions, was signs saying "Masks are strongly encouraged, and appreciated".

I could (and did) take All The Precautions, including getting Second Booster last Monday. I stayed masked, and I distanced to the extent I could. I ate all my meals in my hotel room: carryout for Sat dinner, rest of it was groceries I'd brought. Spent a lot of the weekend in my hotel room, online.

About that exposure worry... Discussions ranged from me living in a motel for several days, to getting her a week in an AirBnB. After a night's sleep and good breakfast, we came up with A Plan. Since getting home, I've been "camping" in the basement. A field-expedient quarantine, so to speak. We decided to treat this as an "Exposure Drill". It's a training exercise / process test, for what would happen if one or the other of us were to definitely catch The Bug.

I hit the storage locker for my camping air bed. Moved my pillows and a quilt to the basement, along with a small coffee pot. I moved one of my away-from-home toilet kits to the basement bathroom. Returning from the event yesterday, I put on a fresh KN95. Brought my luggage and groceries in, and hauled them straight to the basement. We had carryout for dinner last night, fetched by my Lady. We masked up, and she handed me mine through the basement door.

I tested myself yesterday. Negative. I'll test again tomorrow, and Thursday. Assuming all goes well, I get the run of the house again on Friday.

My first night on the air bed went well. I'm going to inflate it to a bit more firmness, but no aches and pains, or whatnot.

I've got a huge supply of instant coffee in my overnight bag, so that's that. I pretty much always have breakfast here at the computer anyway, so that's done.

Showered last night: I headed upstairs wearing mask / shorts / slippers, PT shower, came back down. Left bathroom door closed with Fart Fan running.

Monday and Tuesday, I work from home. At 0800, I'll come on-line "at" work. Lunch will be Dining Al Desko, as I usually do. Dinner will be nuked by Mrs Dex, and handed through the door to me.

Wednesday and Thursday, I have to be in the office. My employer has a fetish about being a Place Based, In Person Organization. My two-day telework agreement was approved partially because when working from home, I spend what would be my commute time "at" work. So, 10 hours work-from-home, and 8 hours, NO more, in-office. I will, of course, put a note on my office door:

I AM ISOLATING.

Do NOT knock, I won't open.

Call, ping on Teams, or

send me a Zoom invite.

Lather, Rinse, Repeat, through Thursday night. Friday, I'm off work and will be freed from the dungeon.

comments

Equal Justice for All

2020-07-12T23:28:33Z

A friend on Facebook had this up as a fundraiser on her birthday. Rather than pitch in there, I went directly to the organization's donate site. I wanted to maximize what they get, and keep FacePlant's greedy little paws out of the loop.

https://support.eji.org/give/153413/#!/donation/checkout

This is in tune with a wild-n-crazy idea I had, last night:

One of the BIG drivers of mass incarceration, and criminal-justice inequity, is the fact that poor and lower-income people accused of crimes can't afford their own attorneys. Public defenders' offices are under-staffed, under-funded, and over-loaded. Meanwhile, prosecutors get their jollies, and convictions, by over-charging cases. They pile on charges that, if a case went to trial, would be used by the jury as toilet paper, and then flushed. The public defenders, then, urge their clients (even if they're actually innocent) to take a plea bargain.

So, here's my not-so-modest proposal.
The Feds, in the form of Congress, cannot under the Constitution, mandate a whole lot of stuff at the state and local level. However, something they have gotten rather alarmingly good at, is imposing state and local regulation by the expedient of attaching strings to Federal aid money. Examples are the late and un-lamented 55mph national speed limit, nationwide 21-year drinking age, and whatnot.

Given the current political balance in the House, this might get traction: Attach a condition to all federal law-enforcement aid - if jurisdictions fail to comply, they get not one single dime of Federal LE assistance. And, the Feds repossess all the MRAPs and other cute toys they've given out. Make the condition, this: Any jurisdiction with prosecutors - district attorneys, state's attorneys, attorneys-general, whatever - must split their legal budget, and staffing, 50-50 between prosecutors, and public defenders.

Now, some might say that this gives an unfair budgetary advantage to the defender's office. After all, some people (like me) can and do afford, and use, our own attorneys. So, each time someone with a private attorney wins a case, that's a theoretical "savings" for the PD's office. At the end of the fiscal year, calculate the "savings", split 50-50 between prosecutors and defenders, and roll it into the following year's budget. That should shut up the law-n-order types.

What do you folks think?

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Some THOUGHTS on "Gun Violence"(tm)

2020-01-26T15:32:45Z

Thoughts on “Gun Violence™ ”

Edited from an old blog post, titled A Rant: "You never come up with any proposals for 'Gun Violence'(tm)"
(c)2020 Dexter Guptill, Free to disseminate with proper attribution.

In response to an Internet argument, where someone said,

The question actually had to do with gun safety. Not one of you addressed that. Do you not think there is a problem?

On to the post:

Okay, so for the moment, we’ll disregard the gun controller’s misuse of the term “Gun safety”. Condensing my proposals down to bullet points, with elaborations further down:

The largest part of the problem

-- Two-thirds of “gun deaths” are suicides. Work to make people’s lives suck less.

-- Of those suicides, a lot are veterans. Fix the VA, and other malfunctioning programs.

Most homicides are committed by violent career criminals.
--End the War on Drugs.
--Enforce the laws we have.
--End predatory policing practices.
--Develop programs to give disadvantaged youth a hand up, so they don’t join gangs.
--Encourage programs for Compassion Based Discipline in schools (capitalized because it’s an actual concept, being practiced).

Domestic Violence, the next most common issue

--Teach kids, growing up, the signs and symptoms of abuse and abusers. Teach them that this is NOT Ok.
--Develop programs, and fund existing ones, to help abuse victims get out.
--Facilitate training in self-defense, against abusers.

Hate Crimes, and violence against disadvantaged folks, and minorities

--Perpetrators base target choices on perceived weakness, and stigmatization of groups.
--Focus self-defense initiatives on helping targeted people learn effective means of defense.

Last AND least, mass shootings
--Don’t give the perpetrators fame. Instead of referring to them by name, in all coverage or discussion, refer to them as “the [expletive of choice] in [incident under discussion]”
--Learn, and teach others, how to spot the outcasts, the loners, the angry ones who perpetrate these atrocities.
--Teach EFFECTIVE countermeasures. People talk about kids getting PTSD from “active shooter” drills at school. That’s because the drills are taught by idiots, and might as well have been specifically designed to terrify children, to no purpose.
--Shoot back.

Going into More detail:

SUICIDE

Let's start with the 2/3 of "gun deaths", that are suicides. 22 of these a day, are veterans. That's not just people with PTSD from recent combat, either. It's older vets, who can't get needed treatment from the VA. Or, they’re facing a downhill slide of declining health, with nowhere to go. Or, it's chronic pain sufferers, who can't get real painkillers because of the War On Opioids.

The way to stop this, is outreach, and easing their pain without ending life. Help people with depression. Reach out to people who are having a rough time. Help the chronic pain sufferers, to get real pain meds. And, if you want to stop “gun suicides”, for those who are terminally ill and in perpetual agony, pass death-with-dignity laws.

Interestingly enough, the actual (not the NRA) Gun Industry Lobby(tm), the National Shooting Sports Foundation, has a real suicide-prevention initiative: https://www.nssf.org/safety/suicide-prevention/

CRIMINAL HOMICIDE

Ditch the War on Drugs. Legalize and tax marijuana at the Federal level. Decriminalize and legalize other drugs, based on harm versus benefit. Use the taxes for treatment programs. Decriminalize possession and use, and civilly mandate treatment for, the nasty things like crack, meth, heroin, etc. For the nasty ones, keep penalties for dealers, cartels, and such folk.

Free, and pardon (with full restoration of rights) non-violent drug-possession convicts. End mass incarceration and for-profit prisons, which exploit a loophole in the 13th Amendment's prohibition on slavery and slave labor. Actually, I shouldn't use "loophole", there, because that's not a bug. From the viewpoint of wanna-be slave owners, it's a FEATURE. Dismantle and reconstitute police departments, weeding out the racists. Demilitarize them, and move them to community policing, AS members of the communities.

Now, let's look at actual, violent, firearm usage by criminals. Stop plea-bargaining, and fully prosecute, any repeat violent offender caught in possession of a firearm. Prosecute straw purchases. Yank the license of, and prosecute, rogue FFLs. Use the freed-up prison space from pardoning drug offenders, to accommodate violent criminals and gun traffickers. An example is Project Exile, in Richmond VA in the 1990s: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Project_Exile

In the anthropological literature, there are discussions of “Honor Culture”, versus “Dignity Culture”.

Honor cultures evolve where there is no rule of law, or where the law is incompetent, unreliable, or untrustworthy. Basically, disputes are handled by the disputants, via force. In a Dignity culture, disputants go to the Law to mediate. Consider Conan the Barbarian, versus Perry Mason.

Examples: In some cities, the Law is not your friend. It's the enemy. Stop-and-frisk, prison pipeline, predatory policing. Those people who view cops as being the enemy, won't call the cops. Not to mention, nobody's going to call 911 and say, "That dude just robbed me for a pound of weed." He's going to shoot the robber and take his weed back. In an Honor culture, in addition, to show weakness is to be prey.

I've seen a bunch of articles, and there's lots of literature online, about compassion-based school discipline. Basically, a kid blows up in class. Gets sent to the office. Instead of punishing him and forgetting him, the principal, or a counselor, asks, "What's wrong?" After a few rounds of this, when the kid is about to go off, he raises his hand and says, "I need to get to the office, and talk to Mr ___, like NOW." Reduces suspensions and detentions like 70%. Used in a couple of juvenile-detention facilities in New England, reduced recidivism 60%. This would go a long way toward ending the School-to-Prison pipeline.

See below for my rather lengthy diatribe about predatory policing.

DOMESTIC VIOLENCE

I’m not an expert-in-the-field, but have some experience. I was emotionally, psychologically, verbally, and sometimes physically abused, growing up. It was not until I was forced into recovery for my own drug and alcohol issues, that I learned something: What I went through, growing up, was not “normal”.

Women are killed every day by abusive partners. This isn’t always, or even mostly, with guns. It’s typically the culmination of a descending spiral of abuse. The most dangerous time in an abusive relationship, is when it ends. When the victim leaves, they’re most likely to be attacked and possibly killed.

Both victims, and abusers themselves, are likely to have suffered abuse while growing up. They don’t see the behavior as abnormal, or wrong. Education is key, here. Start with teaching children the signs and symptoms, and point out that it’s not normal, or acceptable.

When victims do leave, they need safe shelters and refuges, where they can rebuild their lives. In addition, teach them self-defense techniques, and personal-security practices. If someone is under threat from an abuser, and wants to get a carry permit, that permitting process should be expedited for them.

HATE CRIMES / ATTACKS ON MINORITIES OR DISADVANTAGED

People who attack racial, religious, sexual, or cultural minorities are, in essence, bullies. They’re operating on a couple of obnoxiously wrong, and evil, premises. The first is that those groups are seen as weak, socially or physically or both. Ergo, the bully or attacker is less likely to meet effective resistance. The second is that it’s “ok” to attack marginalized groups. You call them out on it, or come to the defense of their victims, and their response is, “What? Why are you calling me out? These are just [expletive / slur]s, they deserve it!” In other words, they don’t see where Society would, or should, have a problem with their persecution of such people.

Social remedies are nice, but not effective in dealing with attacks in the moment. Effective defense is the key, best if the attackers know they’re running a risk. The Pink Pistols (http://pinkpistols.org) has been around since around 2000. Operation Blazing Sword (http://blazingsword.org) was the “Gun Culture”’s response to the Pulse nightclub shooting. It’s a network of gun people who have volunteered – if you’re LGBT / disadvantaged, and want to protect yourself, we will teach you for free. A couple of years ago, OBS and PP merged, and are now an incorporated 501(c)3 educational nonprofit. Jews for the Preservation of Firearms Ownership (http://jpfo.org) and the Zelman Partisans (http://zelmanpartisans.com) take the Israeli motto, “Never Again”, seriously. During the Civil Rights movement, the Deacons for Defense provided some armed security against KKK drive-bys and similar attacks. The National African American Gun Association (https://naaga.co/) is beginning to fill that need, and spread the message.

MASS SHOOTINGS

I said, above, “Last AND least”. Mass shootings are a minuscule portion of the overall violent crime and homicide rate. When designing remedies for problems, use cost / benefit analysis. When designing systems to solve a problem, you go for the middle of the bell curve, and don’t design your fix around edge-cases. Mass shootings are edge-cases. That said, there are some potential remedies.

Look for the outcasts. Find the loners. Reach out. This is not going to be easy, or fun, because those outcasts and loners are often assholes. Frequently, they’re victims of abuse themselves, and grew up in a warped childhood environment. Harking back to criminals and “Honor Culture”, they don’t see appeal to authorities for things like bullying, to be effective or worthwhile. They view asking for help, as a sign of weakness. There are, of course, others out there who are bat-guano crazy. Some have no connection with reality. Others are sociopaths, or narcissists, or both. Keeping them from becoming mass murderers is both the best, AND the hardest, thing to do.

That said, nothing in the world will prevent people from trying to commit mass murders. There are things that can be done, to deal with them. A lot of mass-killers will break off and flee if resisted, or if they’re frustrated in their goals. We can harden the targets, teach practical reactions, and teach and practice resistance.

People complain about inner-city schools “feeling like prisons”, with locking doors and metal detectors. When was the last time some loser shot up one of those schools? I’m speaking here, about mass killings by active shooters, not stray rounds from nearby gang violence. Analyze the likelihood of threat, and compare to the financial and social costs of hardening up.

So-called “Gun Free Zones” are targets. The Aurora, Colorado perpetrator bypassed two theaters nearer to his home, because the one he wound up targeting had “No Guns” signs, and the closer ones didn’t. This was explicitly mentioned in his planning for the attack. This speaks to the fastest way to stop one of these [expletive]s: Shoot back. Consider, for example, the recent Texas church shooting. Three shots fired, two victims, and the third shot took out the killer. In six seconds.

If we’re talking about schools, that whole “armed teacher” thing is not crazy or stupid. First off, nobody is talking about forcing teachers to be cops. That’s propaganda from opponents of the idea. Every armed-teacher program out there, STARTS with teachers who have some form of concealed-carry permit. In other words those teachers are already carrying guns everywhere they want to, and can legally, outside of school.

Once you have a teacher with a CCP who wishes to participate, they volunteer. What happens next, depends on the jurisdiction. In places like Florida, they become virtual deputy law enforcement. Texas requires about twice as much additional training, and vetting, as they went through to get their permits in the first place. Utah just lets anyone with a CCP, carry in schools.

There have, over a decade-plus with some of these programs, and thousands of person-days of carrying, been few or no problems to speak of. One incident in Utah got a huge splash of publicity – a teacher had a negligent discharge in a bathroom, before school started. No students were present. The only major damage was a destroyed toilet. The only injuries were porcelain-shrapnel cuts on the teacher. Contrast this with NYPD, where they average about 15 negligent discharges, per year.

Teaching effective resistance: So-called “drills” that only teach “Hide in the corner and cry, while waiting to die”, are worse than incompetent. They are evil. I sometimes wonder if those “drills” are deliberately designed to turn children into hoplophobic PTSD sufferers.

I’ve had professional training, courtesy of my employer, with ALICE (http://alicetraining.com). ALICE stands for Alert, Lockdown, Inform, Counter, Evacuate. They totally scrambled the actions out of order-of-preference, to get a cute acronym. In order: Evacuate; Lockdown; Counter, and Alert companions / Inform authorities, as and when you are able.

Evacuation is the best, IF you have a safe way to get out of the killer’s range. If you can’t, Lock Down your refuge to the best you’re able, and hide. Shooters go for quick targets, they won’t usually waste a minute or two trying to get through a barricade. If those two fail, Counter.

Spread out, to diffuse the target. Everyone who’s willing, should grab objects to throw. Paperweights, staplers, massive key rings, and such would be best. When the bad guy comes through your barrier, THROW. The object is to mess up his concentration, and aim. Then, bum-rush him. Tackle him. I disagree with the ALICE people on one aspect of this – they want to assuage resisters’ consciences by teaching methods that would restrain the shooter without hurting him. I’m totally okay with stopping the threat as thoroughly as possible, injury and death (of the shooter) be damned.

Here’s my promised diatribe, on Predatory Policing

My usual response to a news story of someone suing cops is: "Crush the Department. See it driven to financial obliteration. Take its assets and its budget, and hear the lamentations of the bean-counters." There needs to be a lot more in the way of draconian consequences, for civil rights violations.

This country is finally getting around to dealing with the widespread, institutionalized racial bias in policing. Let's hope that the powers-that-be don't just take it as "Ok, we survived the protests and riots, so let's throw on some eye-wash and go back to business as usual". We MAY achieve a society where people actually ARE judged "Not for the color of their skin, but the content of their character".

Put an end to “qualified immunity”. In civil rights violations, there IS no such thing as a “good faith error – he didn’t know it was bad” situation. If they don’t know enough about civil rights, not to violate them, they shouldn’t be a cop.

I'd give the department the option to save itself from obliteration, and have the punitive damages reduced from "destructive" to "painful", by publicly holding a 19th-Century style drumming-out ritual to fire the rights-violating officer. If the officer shot a dog or other pet, hold a full police funeral for the pet. Once the offending officer has been drummed out, publish his name on a blacklist, and disseminate to all law-enforcement agencies in the country.

Other side's Proposals, and my opinion of them:

Red Flag Laws: These sound good, and have potential. However, most have little or no due-process protection for the respondent gun owner. There are few or no penalties for false reporting – any one who can lie convincingly to a cop (or find a cop that wants in on the fun) could SWAT a gun owner over a grudge, or just malicious glee. The bills I’ve seen also grant immunity to the police for “damage, deterioration, loss or theft” of guns in their custody. Not acceptable. Also, if an appeal is sustained, the state and/or the reporting person should be liable for the respondent’s legal costs.

Waiting periods: Worthless. In one study, waiting periods had a minor effect in reducing firearm suicides in older males. That was it. There were, however, increases in suicide by other means in that demographic. Meanwhile, abuse and stalking victims have been murdered, while waiting for permission to pick up their already-purchased guns.

Registration: Worthless, and in most cases (NY, NJ, DC) designed expressly to make it as much of a pain in the ass as possible, to own a gun. It's also an enabler for future, planned, confiscations.

License-to-own: Too much risk of arbitrary denial (NY, NJ, MA)

Mandated Safety Course to Own: As long as it's free / taxpayer funded, and not the $300 you have to pay to own a handgun in DC.

Here’s some ideas: All schools teach Eddie Eagle in elementary school. All schools teach a no-hardware (to soothe the hoplophobes) version of NRA Home Firearm Safety. In high school Phys Ed, everybody gets a pick of Basic Rifle and/or Basic Shotgun. End of problem.

Semi-auto firearm, and magazine bans: Worthless and STUPID.

No mass shooting has ever been stopped by bum-rushing the attacker while he was reloading. So-called "reloading" stoppages were none of the kind. Rather, the bad guys were trying to clear jams. Pretty much all of the malfunctions were caused by their fancy, "extended", magazines. That's right -- oversize, aftermarket, larger-than-factory mags, tend to be jam-o-matics.

Semi-auto rifle bans are based on a scam. To quote Josh Sugarmann, of the Violence Policy Center (http://www.vpc.org/studies/awaconc.htm) on the subject: " Assault weapons—just like armor-piercing bullets, machine guns, and plastic firearms—are a new topic. The weapons' menacing looks, coupled with the public's confusion over fully automatic machine guns versus semi-automatic assault weapons—anything that looks like a machine gun is assumed to be a machine gun—can only increase the chance of public support for restrictions on these weapons."

Let’s look at an actual, proposed law. Discussing a couple of specific firearms, I’ve listed them by drilling down through section and paragraph headers.

From S.66, "The Assault Weapons Ban of 2019":
SECTION 1. Short title.

This Act may be cited as the “Assault Weapons Ban of 2019”.

SEC. 2. Definitions. [items specifically banned]

(a) In general.—Section 921(a) of title 18, United States Code, is amended—

“(H) All of the following rifles, copies, duplicates, variants, or altered facsimiles with the capability of any such weapon thereof:

“(xix) Sturm, Ruger & Co. Mini-14 Tactical Rifle M–14/20CF.

(e) Appendix A.—Section 922 of title 18, United States Code, is amended by adding at the end the following:

APPENDIX A—FIREARMS EXEMPTED BY THE ASSAULT WEAPONS BAN OF 2017

Centerfire Rifles—autoloaders
“Ruger Mini 30
“Ruger Mini-14 (w/o folding or telescoping stock or pistol grip)

That's right. The same, exact gun -- the Mini-14 -- is explicitly banned in one section, for having a pistol grip, and is specifically exempted in another section, for having a wooden stock and being a "semiautomatic hunting rifle". The Mini 30, by the way, is a Mini-14 that fires 7.62x39mm rounds, the same as an AK or SKS.

In the above picture, the top one is specifically exempt, and the bottom one is specifically banned. They are the same, exact gun.

Banning firearms for having pistol grips??! As I said above, it's a scam.

Psychological Testing for ownership: Come up with a 100% objective, accurate assessment that will predict violently insane behavior, and we'll talk.

"Universal Background Checks": http://www.3fgburner.net/ubcproposal.pdf

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The Burner Diaries, wherein Dexter goes to the Desert

2018-09-10T03:50:39Z

THE BURNER DIARIES

WEDNESDAY, 8/22:

Unable to load the car Tuesday, because of rain. Got everything packed and ready to go, though. Tubs simplify Car Tetris, a great deal. Rolled out, 1000.

US 48 between I-81 and I-79 is... interesting. It's ok westbound, but not gonna do that on the way back.

Lunched in Nitro, WV. Crashed in Louisville.

THURSDAY:

Long-ass way across IN, IL, 1.5x MO, bit of IA, and into NE. First hints of future tire problem.

Google Maps had shown I-29 going from I-70 to I-80, via Council Bluffs, IA and then through Omaha to Lincoln. Phone showed this back-road looking thing, NE Route 2. Cut over from about 8 miles into IA, straight to Lincoln. Worth a shot.

NE Route 2 turns out to be mostly 4 lanes, with a 70mph speed limit. WIN. Also, it changed the directions to my hotel.

Old: Coming west on I-80, get on US-77, cut down through Lincoln to 10th St, which fades into 12th, then fades into 13th, then 14th, then cut around behind some stuff...

New: Take 2 into Lincoln, hook a left on 14th.... WIN.

FRIDAY:

Most of NE and most of WY. Glad for western speed limits. I have since learned that the randomly-placed fences out in the middle of nowhere in Wyoming, are snow fences.

On one hand, lots o work zones. On the other, most cone-zone speed limits are 65mph.

NE and WY look flat-ish, but get lumpy toward the west. Then you suddenly find out you're at 6000+ feet of altitude.

Terrain in western Wyoming looks like the background to a Roadrunner / Coyote cartoon.

SATURDAY:
Eastern part of the Utah pan-handle, before you get to Salt Lake, is ski country. Houses perched on mountains, very scenic and picturesque. Someone described it as "Mormon Switzerland". Fits.

The downtown speed limit on I-80 and I-15 through Salt Lake City, is 70mph.

Lots of UT and NV exits have signs that say "no services" -- "Yes, this is a town. It does not, however, have a gas station."

Saw some tunnel-bridge-thingies in Nevada, and realize the tops are unpaved. Turns out they're animal-migration bridges.

The westernmost 40 miles or so of I-80 in Utah, run across the Bonneville Salt Flats.

Nevada gas stations have liquor and slot machines. Actually, a lot of states west of the Mississippi have gas stations with booze. Fortunately, they have an even better caffeine and energy selection.

Saw my first ad for a Nevada strip club, 70 miles before the Nevada border.

Missed the point of that whole "no services" thing, gas gauge was drooping before Lovelock, NV. There was a bit of pucker factor.

Made it to Reno. Crashed, after prepping the car for transition to Burn. Filled water jugs, and Camelbak.

SUNDAY, 8/26:

Rolled out of Reno, 0700. Gassed at USA Parkway, anticipating Fernley would be a zoo. Amusingly, there was road construction, necessitating a back-road, back-track to get onto 80. Only in Nevada would this take you past a direction sign to a bordello.

Got onto 447. Except for a couple sitting at the stop sign in Wadsworth, I didn’t see any Feds. Methinks that the massive stink raised by Burners, put the kibosh on their ops. I did, however, make VERY sure to stop precisely at the sign, and signal my turn.

447 was fast, despite the long caravan of Burners. Made it to Gate Road by 0900. Following is my transition from Facebook posts, to this document:

1000, or so: Lost signal, so writing here for the duration. Sitting in line, running the fan, killed my battery. Caused a bit of a snarl until I could get the jump box out. Recharging jump box now.

Lack o signal, so dug out the hardcopy of Angeleyes that I scored from MadMike at Pennsic. Reading that was why I didn't notice the battery dying.

Day 5, so far, not using the AC

1205-1400: Alternated creeping and idling. Porta-Pot trip resulted in folks asking if I had the wherewithal to jump-start a damsel in distress. Jump box For The Win.

1537: Gate closed for extreme weather.

1800: GATE IS OPEN.

My shemagh is full of dust. (Of course it is, we’ve been sitting in a frigging Haboob since 0900.

1900: getting closer.

1920: over 12 hours from Reno, 10.5 at gate.

Got in past Greeters, 2030. 11.5 hour Gate wait.

Got to Soft Landing, Mayor for Day met me. Guided me to the 10x10 chunk of shade where I set up my 10x10 tent.

A Kodiak flex-bow tent is a bit strenuous to put up, but very straightforward.

Tent up, car unloaded, crash by 2300.

MONDAY:

Up, stow tubs, "bathe"

Drink tea, break fast, find Playa Bike Repair. Not open till 1100.. Back to camp for a bit. Hit PBR, and there was a line. Barely made it back to camp in time for the Monday camp meeting.

Realized during tea training that serving would help tune me up for Guardian shifts. That is, trying (sometimes not so successfully) to keep my ego out of the energy pool of tea service, would help with Guardian stuff.

Took a bike ride to the Playa. 45+ years of not riding a bike, meant learning. If you're fat and middle-aged, that whole "effortlessly cruising" thing is bullshit. Also, the PBR bike seat hurts my ass.

Made it out to Temple Guardians Outpost. Got pix. Got back to camp, and vegged.

While sitting in the kitchen, conversed with my campmate Bibs, who was cooking for the vegetarian meal plan group.

Turned out that she didn't have the ingredients she expected. Available spices were different, too. She wasn't sure of timing and technique, so asked for some advice. Result was her cooking, me sitting in my chair and back-seat driving.

One-pot cooking, so started the rice first. 10-15 minutes later, sweet potatoes. Lentils had been soaking, so went in after. Then, chopped veggies.

Winged the spices. Curry powder, Mustard, and pepper to start. Turned up garlic powder and onion powder. YES!! We have salt! As a last touch, she chopped fresh ginger root.

Camp inhaled it.

Biggest thing, Monday evening:Temple Guardians Training. Intense, and conveyed a new worldview. That was a true transition, emphasized by our leader, Carousel. He drew a line in the dust, across the front of the class. Invited us to step over. Being up front, I was one of the first. No more "I signed up to be a Guardian". I AM a Guardian.

Rode most of the way back, was hurting so bad at the end that I walked the bike back the last two blocks.
Vegged in teahouse till I crashed.

TUESDAY:

Up betimes. I lucked out last night at the porta-shitter - there was a wee bit of TP. This morning, I loaded a Ziploc with Ultra-Kleenices. Broke fast with the remains of yesterday's Gunner's Lunch. Decided to go walkabout on foot, thankyouverymuch. I did install the taillight on the bike, plus blue-foam mod on seat. Got back to camp in time for my 1800-2400 tea shift. Made sure that I actually ate before serving.

Caught lots of good art and freaky camps.

Hit the DPS ghetto bar, looking for a friend. Left word to say hi for me.

Vibrator races. Godzilla camp. Iced yerba mate'. Brief ride on a small art car. Brief chat with Rat Bastard.

Tea shift: six hours of pouring and serving tea goes at variable speeds. Depends how many are there, and conversation topics. Over my 3 tea shifts, a huge variety. People, nationalities, languages, viewpoints. Totally worth it.

WEDNESDAY:

Actual breakfast. Finally ate a couple of fruit cups. Oatmeal. Mocha. Couple of Beef n Cheese.

Instead of washing the coffee and oatmeal cups, then dealing with gray water: Slosh with enough fresh water to loosen particulates, and drink that.

Ablutions:

Cheap dish cloths For The Win. Squirt bottle now has a fairly high concentration of vinegar and Castile soap. Spray, and wipe with one. Soak another in clean, and use that for rinse. Hang dry, toss in laundry bag. Use antiseptic wet wipes to taste.

I can, in fact, shave by touch. Hold basin under face, toss whiskers in MOOP can.

Gold Bond: You will always spill. Basin on camp stool. Horse stance over basin. Powder up.

Out to Playa. Negotiated a truce between my ass and the bike. Went to Temple, not open, might open 1600. Figured that going home, and back to Temple, would mean missing my tea shift.

Got to see some of the inner-Playa art. Young lady minding the giant puppets, recalled seeing me at Wickerman. Cool.

Being in the center meant picking my radius. Headed out to Habitat for Insanity. Got to see Dome Monkey for the first time in 4.5 years. Wound up helping her and Teppy a bit with snow-cone flavors. Sat and shot the shit with Metty Moop until I realized I was zoning. Back to camp, crashed in snuggle space for half an hour till my shift.

THURSDAY:

Up, drank Monster and ate a bit while tidying and loading pack. Schedule: 1100-1500 in Temple.

The Plan: Go off-shift, switch headspace to Participant. Return to Temple for memorial mission. Return to camp at leisure, dinner, tea shift.

Thursday PM: No plan survives contacts, etc... Got out early, did my business BEFORE shift.

Finding Outpost in a dust storm was… interesting. Adjust headspace in opposite direction from plan.

The Temple: cranked my Burn up to 12.

There was a concert. When they played Simple Gifts / Lord of the Dance, I lost it. There were several moments that got to me. I watched a Soldier's memorial (Boots, rifle, helmet) being installed. I went by later. Just then, a guy started playing Taps.

No fun like the fun of pulling your first Guardian shift in a whiteout / dust storm.

I admonished a bozo who had climbed up about ten feet. He said "excuse me, I'm busy writing", in a snarky tone. I do not have a Playa name. I have, however, now given one.

When the bozo came down, I walked over."There are two rules: No fire, and no climbing. Your new Playa name is Monkeybars."

One intense Guardian moment. A participant had just written to a friend who'd committed suicide. Then, he looked down a bit. A foot or so down, he saw "maybe this is the year that I burn me." This, understandably, seriously messed with the guy's head.

Wednesday, I saw two different pairs of people doing a thing called an Infinity Hug. One person clasps hands. Other reaches through their arms, and clasps own hands. Holding arms up, you see an Infinity sign. Go close, transitioning to a hug by taking clasped hands back over the other's head. At release time, draw back, keeping hands clasped, and come back over the other's head. Finish, by holding hands-four.

Seeing this twice, made me think. "Hmm", says I. “I am possibly meant to learn this."..

In the Temple, in that moment, I used it.

One of the things that grabbed me whenever I came across one: Cat memorials. Someone actually brought their cat's old scratching perch. Damn.

After shift, headed in. Had to walk the bike into the headwinds., saw Center Camp.

During tea service, around 2230, heard a ripping sound. My ancient and trusty camp stool was splitting. I stood up just in time to avoid being dumped onto my co-servers.

FRIDAY:

No ambition for food, forced some down. Stool dead. I have rope, paracord, and theory of weaving. Stool has a woven cord seat in my colors.

Burn Perimeter Training: Fucking intense.

Turns out Carousel, the trainer, works in a California tiger sanctuary. They give the furbabies goat’s milk as a treat.

Hung out with Habitat for Insanity.
At Habitat, got into a discussion of technical virginity. I am probably reacting differently from someone who's never Burned. For me, the "I'm at a Burn, how do I be a Burner?" thing was settled long ago. I didn't have any culture-shock issues. My mind-expanding experiences have related to the sheer physical size and variety. Did not make Back it to Habitat for their pizza thingy.

Back, met more campmates. Indian dude in a Fred Flintstone leopard toga is Ravi, and a fellow Madhur Jaffrey fan

Saw many art cars. Discussion with nice ladies from NZ, in one of the theme camp bars.

Wandered widdershins, got a taxi ride to Center Camp. Had yerba mate'. Wandering back, hopped on an art car, went to the Esplanade. Beaucoup art cars, insane sound camps, totally whacked-out people, bikes, costumes. Loved the musical lightning towers -- Camp Hexagon's Tesla Coils. I got brief video of a Thunderdome fight. Too late to fight, myself, alas. Had fun showing the bouncer the pic of me in armor, @ Pennsic ‘15. Taxi pedaler and I were both Boy Scout troop buglers.

SATURDAY:
Sleeping gear rolled. Goal is to reorganize tubs, nonessentials in car, minimal pack-out Sunday. Load pack for the day. That done, ablute; dress; and wander the Playa.

Actuality: Vegged in camp, schmoozed with campmates, puttered with gear. First time I have felt hot, realized that I was sweating. Interesting connection: Podmates behind my tent are shooters. Gifted some Coexist stickers.

Carved up the blue foam, and made my kneeling pad for the Temple burn.

Camp, and the city, gradually emptied out to the Playa. I figured that if need be, I could set my chair down at the mouth of 8:00 and Esplanade. As it happened, there was a perfect spot to park it on the tower of Altitude Lounge. Got to watch the Man Burn, from 30 or so feet up. Let me see all of the fireworks, and contemplate the mile-diameter mosh pit that is the Inner Playa during Burn Night. Had my chair, drinkies, munchies, and interesting company. Back to camp at 2230. Teahouse was vacant for the Burn, so used my cot one last time.

SUNDAY:

My phone's clock has an obnoxious rooster alarm that works well at 0200. NO question whatsoever about wearing the sweatshirt. It was bloody cold, sweatshirt went on. Pack was ready. Biked out across a Playa that was still a zoo of art cars. Had some insights. The Temple, and the privilege of serving in it, were Burning Man's gift to me.

It was a shift. Fire-guarded a few rituals with incense or tobacco. Watching one, couple dudes wandered by with a stick going. I invited them to join my fire watch. One screwup – my reflexes were too slow. Incense Dude decided to smudge this guy who was sitting in Lotus, weeping, and having a Temple Moment. I should have stopped Incense Dude and pointed out consent issues. Guy on the ground composed himself and left, shortly after. I’m not sure if the guy on the ground was done, or Incense Dude had screwed up his Moment. I feel bad about this.

Two climbers. One lady really needed to write. The guy with her solved it by letting her stand on his shoulders. The other just wanted clear space. I found him a bit. Made more spontaneous connections. Was gifted a Carnevale mask fridge magnet. On the topic of describing Burning Man: the teacup analogy came up. At any time, suppose that our capacity to perceive, retain, and comprehend is a teacup at a time. In our daily lives, we usually keep filling, and processing the contents of, that teacup from a bucket. Burning Man is the ocean.

Sunrise at the temple. Slowly, everyone spontaneously turned East. Watched the Sun come up. Several art cars gathered near, and the one made to look like a cathedral (turns out its name is Sanctuary), hosted a choral concert. A couple hundred feet out-playa from the Temple, there were fire-spinners. I saw, in the distance, Radia Lumia, and the 747. Likewise, the huge-ass polar bear. Abraxas came by the Temple. Incidentally, when I saw what looked like Abraxas shrunk in the wash (about minivan sized), I wasn’t hallucinating. She DID have a baby tagging along this year.

Rode the bike straight to PBR and returned it. Hoofed back to camp. Nibbled, drank, vegged till 1030. Next: porta-pot, organize during-trip vs go home, load, be ready at 1400.

I realized that 1430 would give me enough walking time to get to Outpost by 1545. Car loaded and done by 1400, vegged a last half-hour. Said goodbyes to those who’d be leaving. Out to playa.

Walked through an art piece that was a booth, surrounded by vertical poles with cutout fairies on top. One of the fairies told me to come back after dark. Hey, it’s Burning Man. Of COURSE a cutout silhouette of a fairy will talk to you.

Signed in, got my Burn Perimeter badge. Out to the vicinity of the Temple, for group photo. I hid out in the back row – probably not visible in the pic. Then, perimeter. Grab a traffic cone. Walk WAAY out there – perimeter was a 500’ radius from Temple center. Pointed out to people that folk inside the Temple were loading it up with Unsafe Things, and that was why the Temple was closed. Directed them to the 6:00 O'Clock radius (back toward remains of the man / Center Camp), for Offering Carriers and/or Memory Boxes.

Campmate came by, hugged me, said she’d tell the gang where I was. Resulted in a bunch of Soft Landing folk watching the Burn right by me.

I, of course, did not see the Burn directly. I saw it reflected as firelight, on the faces of those in my sector. I also felt it, as heat on my back. One exception – A Ranger came up to me, said he’d watch my sector while I took a peek. I did, saw the outermost timbers still standing in the flames. I’ve since seen a short video of the beginning of the burn. The central spire collapsed within 4 minutes. That explained the first wave of wolf-howls that went around the ring.

An hour and a half, kneeling, until the fire collapsed enough that they dropped the perimeter. If it hadn't been for the kneeling pad and my stick, I wouldn't have lasted. By the time the perimeter dropped, I was pretty well done. Wandered to the Outpost, found out I didn't have to check out.

On the way back to camp, I stopped by the fairy booth. It asked me some questions, then gave me advice based on my responses.

Back to camp, as quickly as I could. Said some goodbyes, and got my mummy bag out of the car. Crashed in the teahouse, till I woke up Monday morning.

MONDAY (9/3):

Awake around 0430ish (crashed before 2300). Last porta-pot run, last goodbyes. Put on my boots, and decided to hell with dressing. Drove out in swim trunks, t-shirt, and boots – BDUs too much of a nuisance.

0500 – Rolling, toward Gate Road. Heard on BMIR, a lady at her first Burning Man. She was from DC, and had learned of BM via Catharsis. They said Exodus was like 2 hours. While there were times that I was idling in first gear, at 5-10mph, I did not hit my brakes once between turning onto the perimeter road, and hitting pavement. Visualize a DC rush hour, with NO ASSHOLES. “Merge, 8 to 4, please.” Sure. Nice polite zipper-merge. “Merge, 4 to 2, please.” No problemo. “Merge, 2 to single lane, please”. No hiccups. Damn. One of the wilder moments of the Burn, as I was leaving.

Sunrise on 447. Wasn't doing any 70 mph, but moving along fairly well. Hit the 80, backtracked to USA Parkway again. Expended my vinegar-squirt bottle on my windshield, Also, BYO squeegee was good idea.

Passed a bunch of Burners (you could tell by the weird squeegee-marks on windshields and windows) going through Nevada and into Utah.

The first 40 miles or so of I-80 in Utah, runs across the Bonneville Salt Flats. I now know how fast Rosie will go. No, I'm not telling, on the Web.

SLC, found a car wash. Super-deluxe, operator-assisted, and still had Playa dust / mud in corners and crevices after. Meh. Motel had a recycling bin in the lobby, dumped cans n bottles. Burger Thing drive-through for dinner, took it to the room.

TUESDAY:
Gassed on the north side of SLC. The steep up-grades I'd worried about on the return, weren't as bad as I'd anticipated. Did have some issues (they'd actually started on the way out) with left front tire going low. Had to use my compressor in camp on Sunday before leaving Monday.

In Wyoming, saw some antelopes, finally. Also lots of cattle, and some bison ranches. And a llama ranch. Roadwork wasn't as bad as on the way out, and some shut down till mid-week for the holiday. Started catching rain.

Nebraska – I wasn't going all the way to Lincoln, just Lexington (halfway across the state). However, at gas stop, the tire gave up the ghost. There's nothing quite like changing a tire in a howling Nebraska thunderstorm. Particularly since whoever put the spare on the rack, 13-14 years ago, apparently impact-wrenched it. On the other hand, my Kodiak tent has steel poles. Can you say “Cheater bar”, boys and girls? I knew you could. I was, to myself, yelling “Radical self-reliance, bay-bee!!” as I did this.

Long, HOT shower in motel. Dinner was munchies from my playa pack.

WEDNESDAY:

Played smart-ass in the rain. Parked my luggage under the portico of the motel, backed Rosie INTO the portico. Told people behind me I'd be out of the way right quick, apologized for being a smart-ass. The guy said, “don't worry, we're gonna do that, too.”

Last half of Nebraska. Drop off of 80 in Lincoln, briefly onto US-77. Get off on Van Dorn Street (wait a minute, how did I get space-warped to Alexandria?), aka Nebr Rte 2. Difference is, Van Dorn in Alexandria doesn't get to 55mph by the time you leave town.

Gassed and ate, NE of KC. Next gas stop, off I64 in St Louis. Then, OF COURSE, dealt with rush hour St Louie traffic. Southern Illinois via I-64 has one advantage. You can get the hell through it right quick.

On to western Indiana, for last motel night.

THURSDAY:
Lost a couple minutes jumping the car. Battery had been getting flakier for a while. Lost more time at gas station, because the bozo ringing up my energy drinks held me up, looking through a long-ass PAPER LIST, to see if my Dew Kickstarts were on sale. I did not give a rat's ass about sale prices. He got the message and rang that stuff up.

Made it around Louisville's rush hour via the inner beltway. Survived Lexington's road work. Made it through Charleston, WV, and past the dimwits on the turnpike section of WV I-64. Last gas in WV, got late lunch from a charity food stand. On to VA. Nicely deserted, twisty mountain roads. Let my tank get low enough that I had to go for nearest gas, which meant plowing through downtown Lexington, VA. Planned ETA for home was 1930, made 1945.

Out for Sushi, Moose Tracks ice cream for dessert, home, DONE.

That was my 62^nd birthday. What is this “Old” thing, of which you speak? I know not this phrase.

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Perma-Posting a Facebook response: Why I own guns

2018-07-22T01:14:41Z

Quoth an anti-gun bozo on Faceplant: "But that’s why you have the guns, no? Protection from the scary government"

Only as a last resort. Here's why I own guns:

I realized I'd gone over the line from "accumulator" to "collector" when I picked up the fourth one of the same type, to round out a set.

My collection includes historical reproductions from 14th Century through US Civil War, as well as firearms with designs going back to the 1890s.

I am a target shooter, ranging from paper targets to trap and skeet. And have been known to put out a hundred-yard aiming stake to zero my Coehorn mortar. For about 20 years, I belonged to an organization that does rapid-fire target-shooting competitions in Civil War uniforms, with muskets and Minie' balls.

I have guns in the house, for home defense. I also carry a gun, where legal, for self-defense. My rationale on that, goes as follows: Balance the hassle of carrying (mostly weight, but also including permit paperwork), against a combination of the odds that I'd need it, and how much it would suck not to have it. This is also why I have fire extinguishers and smoke / CO alarms on all floors of my house, fire extinguisher in my car, and first aid kits everywhere, including on me. First aid equipment goes up to, and includes, an AED.

Now, since the vast majority of homicide victims in the US are, themselves, criminals, I have an amusing paradox. In order to remain eligible for my permits, and pass background checks to buy guns, I have to keep my own nose clean. This considerably reduces the odds that I'll NEED to use the gun, since I'm avoiding sketchy places and sketchy people, and not doing sketchy shit.

Of lower odds, but still part of the reason I own guns: My area has a known gang problem. It is also possible, although less likely than elsewhere (our County Police are better than average) that someone might shoot someone and touch off riots. Of course, since the largest non-white ethnicity in my vicinity is Korean shopkeepers, this might go badly for the rioters (see LA Riots, "Roof Koreans"). There is also the possibility that some extremists, be they KKK / Nazi, or Antifa / Anarchassholes, might kick up their heels.

Then, there's natural disasters n stuff. My phone popped a flood alert during dinner (I'm in my County's Community Emergency Response Team). What do you do when shit happens, you dial 911, and they either (a) don't answer, or (b) say "We're kinda busy, we'll get to you in a day or two."? That isn't just emergency services, the cops can't get to you either.

People freak out about stuff like 9/11, Katrina, riots, and whatnot. For me, that's just the world living down to my expectations.

Finally, yes, we have an incompetent, authoritarian moron with the attention span of a toddler on meth, in the White House.

Freedom rests on a foundation supported by four boxes: Soap Box, Ballot Box, Jury Box, and Cartridge Box. I wouldn't want to open the fourth (and it IS a last resort), but shit happens. Hopefully, if Trump declares himself Dictator for Life, SecDef Mattis will shoot him on the spot. If not, I'm ready.

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On Mandatory Tests, Training, and Literacy for Rights

2018-07-20T19:39:01Z

So, there is a meme going around, about presidential candidates:

I've seen the same sort of things going around, about exercising gun rights -- license-to-own, mandatory training, TS/Crypto clearance background checks, and so forth. From other quarters, usually the opposite end of the spectrum from the anti-gun types, there's a resurrection of calls for literacy tests to vote. Ditto, highly onerous voter-ID laws.

Someone responding to the OP, had the following rather trenchant observation: "So, who sets the standards for the tests?"

There's an old story from the Jim Crow era. Black dude goes to vote, and the local jurisdiction has a "literacy test". He gets there, and there's one white guy in front of him. The elections bailiff has him read one sentence from one of those first-grade, "Sally, Dick, and Jane" books. White guy stumbles a bit, but gets through the sentence, and the bailiff lets him in.

The black would-be voter steps forward, and reaches for the book. "Whoa there", says the bailiff. "Not so fast."

Bailiff produces a copy of the New York times, and has the black guy read a literary review. He does so, with no trouble at all. Then, the bailiff makes him read a passage of Shakespeare. He does so, in proper meter and with correct dramatic emphasis. He starts into the voting precinct, and the bailiff jumps in front of him.

The bailiff then hands him a newspaper. In Chinese. Black guy says, "I understand this!"

"You do?"

"Yep. It says 'this is one n####r that ain't gonna vote."

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To: Executive VP Wayne LaPierre, and the NRA Board of Directors

2018-05-09T11:43:17Z

~~You STUPID Oedipal Fornicators:~~
Ladies and Gentlemen:

I am an NRA Life Member, have been a member for over 20 years, and currently have the NRA Foundation listed in my will for a piece of my estate when I shuffle off this mortal coil. In addition, I belong to, or work with, several other gun-rights organizations. I have been working to advance Second Amendment rights, since the 1990s. I have a question for you:

WHAT in the ~~ever-loving FUCK~~ name of all that's holy, unholy, or totally indifferent were you people smoking, snorting, or otherwise ingesting in the way of hallucinogenic or other drugs, when you decided to appoint (And we really should talk about popular election of .Org presidents) Oliver freaking NORTH as President of the NRA?

Now, I'm given to understand that Pete Brownell, who's a pretty good guy, decided not to run for reelection "to pay more attention to his family business". I'm wondering, now, if there might have been some behind-the-scenes shenanigans that caused him to throw in the towel. President Brownell has been doing a pretty good job over the past year, of expanding the NRA's appeal to various under-served groups. We really need to go beyond this "old white men" thing, and I say this as a middle-aged white man. When an anti starts ~~whingeing~~ pontificating about that whole "NRA is evil / racist / sexist / homophobic / right-wing" thing, I have taken great glee in posting a link Mr Brownell's "First Freedom" column from last July. To refresh your memories, here's the salient pull-quote:

The Second Amendment belongs to every American. The freedom secured by the Second Amendment cannot be put asunder by any conceivable element of discrimination—not by color, race, age, sex, sexual orientation, language, religion, political ideology or national origin.

THAT is the kind of policy, and philosopy, that we need to be promoting, and trumpeting to the skies. When I see the word "inclusive", I don't think in terms of politically-correct checklists and quotas. To me, the word, and philosophy, simply means that everyone is welcome. At the door to the range, or the classroom, or the .org meeting, differences of age, race, creed, sexual identity, religion, or lack of religion, need to be left behind. I was thrilled to see that my friend, Erin Palette, of Operation Blazing Sword was invited to speak at this year's NRA Annual Meetings. I thoroughly enjoy sending antis links to Colion Noir's videos. THIS is the direction that I believe the NRA should be following. This is the philosophy that will help the organization to grow.

Instead, you bloody IDIOTS are opting for organizational suicide. There's a problem with us ~~old~~ middle-aged white men: We are not immortal. The NRA had best be doing some recruiting elsewhere. This means putting aside prejudice. It means letting people be who they are, and want to be, outside of that range or classroom door. So, who did you pick as President? You chose a right-wing Evangelical. You selected a man who said that opposing things like same-sex marriage, reproductive choice, and the freedom to be other than Christian are "not social issues, they are deeply moral and spiritual and they should be part of America's elections." (Speech to CPAC, March 2014)

Now, let's talk about baggage. This man was convicted of multiple felonies, involving actions that circumvented our established processes of government. Yes, they were overturned, and yes, he's entitled to keep his civil rights. However, those convictions were not overturned based on innocence. They were overturned based on the incompetence of those who prosecuted him. Any time that someone, who has committed such acts of moral turpitude, speaks of "Duty, Honor, and Country", he taints and invalidates the message. I am, among other things, a veteran. Any time that someone refers to Oliver North by his (retired) rank, they confer undeserved honor on someone who has betrayed his Oath to support and defend the Constitution of the United States. The man is a disgrace to the uniform.

Now, I can understand that you may have wanted someone with more fame, or "star power", in the office of President. I understand full well that the job of NRA President is mostly as a figurehead and mouthpiece for the organization. Yes, Oliver North has name recognition. However, you MORONS need a basic vocabulary lesson: There is a difference between Fame, and Infamy. For every right-winger out there who is ready to osculate Mr North's gluteal region, there are several folks, from the rest of the political spectrum, who would greet him with torches, pitchforks, tar, and feathers.

The NRA should be a single-issue organization. That single issue should be guns. The NRA's business is firearm safety, promoting the shooting sports, and defending those rights guaranteed by the Second Amendment. You should have nothing to do with religion, sex, or any other items irrelevant to the subject of gun rights. As a member, I trusted you to safeguard my rights on this one issue. Members of the Board, you have betrayed my trust.

I'm going to see how this falls out, over the next few months. If there's enough pressure brought to bear for Mr North to resign, or if you correct your mistake, I'll go one way. If not, you may have cost the NRA Foundation a fairly substantial chunk of change. The size of said chunk depending, of course, on the condition of my 401(k) at my demise. Now, being a Life Member, I may keep that membership because (a) it will let me vote your mangy posteriors out next year, and (b) it costs you money to send me the monthly magazine.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I'll be watching.

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A Bar Chart: AR15s, legal versus mis-used

2018-02-28T13:41:16Z

AR-15 Abuse in Mass Shootings: A Bar Graph

Much has been made of AR-pattern rifles, about how they're only good for slaughtering mass amounts of innocent people, and have no other use. There are, at best guess, approximately 15 million firearms based on the Armalite Rifle design in private hands in the US. That's one specific design, mind. If one were to try to catalog all the possible firearms that could be demonized as so-called “Assault Weapons”, it would run to millions more. This is a comparison of AR15 and similar rifles, between those which have been abused in mass shootings, and which haven't.

An article in Politifact (http://www.politifact.com/truth-o-meter/article/2018/feb/14/what-we-know-about-mass-shootings/) discusses recent mass shootings. Per the article there have been around 10 AR-15 pattern rifles used in mass shootings at Aurora, CO; Roseburg, OR; San Bernadino, CA; Newtown, CT; Orlando, FL; Sutherland Springs, TX; and Parkland, FL. In addition, there's the rather large but not-all-counted pile of rifles in the shooter's hotel room in Las Vegas, NV.

On to the bar graph. Let's make an individual AR-type rifle visible, in this graph. We'll go with 1 rifle = 1/16” x 1/2”:

That means that one square inch would be 32 rifles, which should cover the known quantities plus the Vegas shooter's:

A square foot, then, would be 32x144 = 4,608 rifles. For the next comparison, I'll have to reduce the scale to fit the page. We'll reduce 50%, so we have a half-inch square on a 6-inch square. Blue is rifles that haven't been misused:

So, here we have 4608 rifles. The ones that have been misused are the red corner, and the blue is a start on the ones that are sitting around in gun safes, truck gun racks, under beds, wall racks, and gun cases. Ones that are being used for target shooting, home defense, varmint shooting (think “recreational pesticide”), and, yes, hunting. That said, we're going to need a lot more plain blue squares for our bar chart:

Let's go up to 46,080 rifles:

You can still see that red bit.

Now, let's look at how many square feet of bar chart we'll need for all the AR-type rifles out there.

How many? Let's divide 15,000,000 by 4608: 3255.2 or so. Let's go with 3255. We've run out of paper, so let's go with geography. Here's a runway at Dulles, with all those blue sheets of paper laid out end-to-end. We're about 355 feet short of the takeoff distance for a C-130:

EDIT: I realized that people aren't getting it, that with the chunk of runway laid out, the ones being abused are still one square inch of that runway. So, here, one PIXEL = one AR15. The ones being abused are red. They're in the center. You'll probably have to click the image to load the full-size original.

When people talk about bans, and Australian-style confiscations, most of them don't appear to be thinking about how many people own these firearms legally, and never do anything wrong with them. Oh-- and one OTHER bit -- this is AR-15s, only. There are dozens of other designs of firearms out there, that fit the definition of so-called "Assault Weapons". Each of those designs represents thousands, or in the case of the more popular ones, millions, more firearms that are in circulation, legally owned, and are NOT being misused.

Food for thought.

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Perma-Posting a Facebook piece: "Why would you own an AR-15?"

2017-11-06T19:16:12Z

Comment on another wall, posting it here for future reference. There was discussion of my libertarian tendencies, and I was asked why I own an AR15 (in response to "My collection runs from 14th C medieval hand-cannon, through AR15"). NOTE: the "See pic" comment was the VA Second Chance to Die T-shirt.

Starting with the libertarian thing: I'm a small-l libertarian, don't always hang with The Party(tm). On the government thing, my philosophy is "Anything the .gov can do FOR you, comes with stuff that the .gov will do TO you."

I don't have an issue with public goods such as roads and such. I do think that paying for them with gas taxes and so forth is a plan, because that way the people using the road are paying for it. Now, government-run health care, is another thing... See also: "VA: Giving veterans a second chance to die for their country, since 1930."

I work in a building full of progressives. We had a bunch of everybody-will-attend-one screenings of "Thirteenth". During the Q&A after, I held up my phone and pointed them to the ACLU's Mobile Justice app (Hi, officer. What seems to be the problem? Please speak clearly for the ACLU's recording servers."). I have LegalShield, and the Red Alert button on my phone is hooked to their app.

I definitely believe in going Genghis Khan (Conan forgot "Take their horses and their goods") on any authority or government agency that abuses citizens' rights. That includes everything from predatory policing of minorities, to IRS targeting activist organizations, to, yes, stripping people of self-defense rights without due process.

Why do I own an AR15? Well, there was this dealer that had a REALLY good deal on an assembled lower receiver from a short-lived manufacturer. Basically, they went out of business and their inventory went cheap. And it was SHARPS RIFLE CO. Yes, I have a Sharps-15 (Note that "AR15" is like "Bandaid" or "Xerox" -- it's the original brand name). I then went and got the necessary bits for a more-or-less mil-style (vanilla, no weird tacti-cool shit) A2 build. I already had several semi-auto rifles, but on this one I drank the kool-aid because of the spiff sale. As one of the several million veterans who served after 1963, I've known how to use one since 1976.

What do I use it for? Target shooting. If I ever work up enough of an interest, I might use it for varmint hunting (think "recreational pesticide"), or feral pigs. It's not legal for deer in VA, because the cartridge is below the minimum size / power requirement for deer in this state.

I really, REALLY hope I don't ever have to use it for "social" purposes. Hell, I hope I never have to use any of my guns in self-defense. By law, I have 3 more years left as a member of the Unorganized Militia of Virginia. As a veteran, I'm probably a teensy bit higher than rock bottom, if they're scraping the barrel. I'd be in line after the US Armed Forces, Virginia National Guard, and Virginia Defense Force (state organized militia).

That said, if a crowd of rampaging assholes comes around looking to attack people, burn stuff, rape, or loot, I don't give a rat's ass why they're doing it. I don't care if their politics are right or left. NeoNazis, AntiFa, screw 'em all. I don't care what flag they're carrying, or IF they're carrying a flag. If it's after a disaster, they might be looting. Now, if they were KKK, I would have to say that I appreciate them painting those crosses on their robes, right where a bullet belongs. If it's .gov assholes rounding up minorities to throw them in camps, same deal.

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A cooking post: Pirated from James Fort

2017-10-29T02:15:08Z

“A TURKISH DISH OF BEEF”

Redacted, from Dining with William Shakespeare

So, there's this dish they cook at James Fort. Recipe is from "Dining With William Shakespeare". It's called A Turkish Dish of Beef. It's actually about as Turkish, as the Maltese Bransle is Middle-Eastern. That said, it's really good. Link at the bottom, to a photo of the cookbook page.

INGREDIENTS:

1 lb Boned Lean Chuck	½ Cup Long-Grain Rice
16 Tiny White (pearl?) Onions	2/3 Cup Beef Broth
3 Tbl Butter	1 Tsp Peppercorns
1 Tsp Salt	2 Slices Buttered Toast, Quartered*

PROCEDURE:

Remove all gristle and fat from the meat, and slice it very thin – think Stroganoff slices. The book recommends slicing while still semi-frozen. Peel the onions.

Melt the butter in a small, heavy casserole with a tight-fitting lid. Add the meat, salt, and peppercorns, and stir just until the meat changes color. Stir in the rice and onions. Bring the beef broth to a boil, and pour it over the beef and rice.

Cover the casserole and lower the heat to simmer – on an electric stove, between warm and low. Cook until the rice has absorbed most of the liquid.

Arrange the toast in a heated serving dish, and spoon the beef and rice over it. Warn your guests about the whole peppercorns. *That's if you use the toast.

First attempt, 10/28/2017:

Being me, I had to mess with it. I've redacted it for crockpot. I also cooked the rice separately, albeit in beef broth and meat juices. I also experimented with brown rice. And, just for grins and giggles, I tossed in a pound of mushrooms. Also, rather than peel a LOT of pearl onions, I chopped a couple of shallots and a yellow onion I had. Late in the cooking, I threw in a smidgen of freshly-ground black pepper, cloves, cardamom, and cinnamon. Going to keep that mod.

That said, next time I'll get the crockpot heating, then throw the beef broth, seasonings, and rice in the bottom. I'll spoon the browned beef, onions, and shrooms in on top of the rice and let it go a couple of hours.

Tonight, I had a big chunk of beef I'd gotten on sale. Once I sliced it up and removed the gristly bits, I had 2.5 lb of beef. Ergo, everything got multiplied by 2.5. When time came to start the rice, I went with 1.5 cups of brown rice. This meant 3 cups of liquid, so I used 2-and-a-smidgen remaining cups of beef broth out of the quart I started with, plus enough juices from the crockpot to come up to 3 cups of liquid.

Beef, onions, and shrooms got 3 hours in the crock, and the rice got 45 minutes. Next time, I'll just give the whole mess a couple of hours together, and call it good.

Link to the photo of the cookbook page

Amazon link to the book

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Musings of a Hugo Voter, 2017

2017-07-16T14:09:40Z

Well, I got my ballot done before the deadline. Some of the stuff, I didn't vote on. For example, I don't own a TV, so Drama (short) wasn't in it. I also don't listen to fancasts, or read any fanzines but one. Since "Revenge of Hump Day" didn't get nommed, no vote. Since the only Long Form Editor that I recognized was Theodore Beale aka Vox Day, that's where my only vote for Noah Ward went. For Fan Writer, I of course had to pick Chuck Tingle.

A note, here: Over the past few years, the Puppy-Kickers had accused us of gaming the system, nomming things that we liked by ganging up. Funny thing, that. I noticed LOTS and LOTS of these headers, in the nominated works' PDFs:

A Tor.com Book
Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC

Now, the PKs will tell you that the Pup's calls of "We just want good stories, not crappy message fic" was a dog-whistle (pun intended) for "We hate diversity". When I pointed out to a Tor editor that this year's ballot smacked a LOT of "Tor gaming the system", he just replied, "No, Tor just happens to be publishing most of the Quality Science Fiction(tm)." Yeah, right.

On to the Rest of the Ballot!

For Novel, Death's End was the only one I'd read. None of the excerpts in the package really grabbed me, so my #1 vote was my only. Likewise, for Best Series, Lois Bujold's Vorkosigan Saga was the only one I'd read. #1 and only for that, as well.

In the Novella category, "Dream Quest" was outstanding. I've liked Lois Bujold's stuff since I first read Warrior's Apprentice, and "Penric and the Shaman" measures up. The rest of the category was, quite frankly, meh.

For Novelette, I was tickled to see Ursula Vernon in the mix. I seriously loved her webcomic, "Digger". "Tomato Thief" is right up there. "Touring With The Alien" was also great, but had to give the props to "TD". "The Jewel And Her Lapidary" was pretty good, although it got a bit repetitive in spots. "Stripper" had its interesting points, but went way overboard in trying to beat "Space Raptor Butt Invasion" from last year. The other two, meh.

In the Short Stories, "That Game We Played During the War" was excellent. This is so often true, in war: "All we had to do, was not lose." For the #2 slot, "Our Talons Can Crush Galaxies" was also good -- "Game" edged it out by a slim margin. The others, meh -- incoherent, acid-trippy, more "journey of the mind" than story.

In Related Work, I went for SilverBob and Ursula LeGuin, because Elder Gods of SF.

Dramatic Long is a short ballot, because even a last-place vote is still a vote and would weigh in later rounds of Australian-whatzis voting. Rogue One was the top of my nomination list. Deadpool, great flick. Now why, you may ask, did I not include Hidden Figures? Well, let's see... I saw the flick. It was amazing. Fantastic movie, covers a chunk of history that fascinated me while I was watching it on the news (or in newsreels when I was 2-3,000 miles from the nearest TV). One of the absolute great movies of 2016. So, why did I not vote for it? Because it's not science fiction. It's a docudrama.

For Graphic Story, I went through each selection, and voted as they struck me. Ditto for Pro and Fan Artist. Those three categories, I tend to do quickly -- zap through, and vote my impressions. On Graphic -- Monstress was amazing. I really liked Paper Girls. Saga was ok. The remaining three, meh.

Wrapping up with the Campbell: Gailey's "Haunted" knocked it out of the ballpark. Older's "Black Box" was cool. Mulroney's "Equation" was amusing, the rest were meh.

Novel:
1. Death's End

Novella:
1. The Dream-Quest of Vellitt Boe
2. Penric and the Shaman
3. Every Heart a Doorway
4. A Taste of Honey
5. The Ballad of Black Tom
6. This Census-Taker

Novelette:
1. "The Tomato Thief"
2. "Touring with the Alien"
3. The Jewel and Her Lapidary
4. Alien Stripper Boned From Behind By The T-Rex
5. "The Art of Space Travel"
6. "You'll Surely Drown Here If You Stay"

Short Story:
1. "That Game We Played During the War"
2. "Our Talons Can Crush Galaxies"
3. "Seasons of Glass and Iron"
4. "A Fist of Permutations in Lightning and Wildflowers"
5. "The City Born Great"
6. "An Unimaginable Light"

Related Work:
1. Traveler of Worlds: Conversations with Robert Silverberg
2. Words Are My Matter: Writings About Life and Books, 2000-2016

Graphic Story:
1. Monstress, Volume 1: Awakening
2. Paper Girls, Volume 1
3. Saga, Volume 6
4. The Vision, Volume 1: Little Worse Than A Man
5. Black Panther, Volume 1: A Nation Under Our Feet
6. Ms. Marvel, Volume 5: Super Famous

Dramatic Long:
1. Rogue One
2. Deadpool

Editor Long:
1. No award

Pro Artist:
1. Sana Takeda
2. Galen Dara
3. Julie Dillon
4. Chris McGrath
5. Victo Ngai
6. John Picacio

Fan Writer:
1. Chuck Tingle

Fan Artist:
1. Elizabeth Leggett
2. Spring Schoenhuth
3. Likhain (M. Sereno)
4. Steve Stiles
5. Vesa Lehtimäki
6. Ninni Aalto

Series:
1. The Vorkosigan Saga

New Writer:
1. Sarah Gailey
2. Malka Older
3. J. Mulrooney

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Dreamwidth

2017-04-10T13:06:07Z

I've had this ID for a while, after an LJ outage a few years ago. All my stuff is here, as of the export I did back when. This is actually where I create new posts, with crossposting to LiveJournal. As of today, I'm going to (a) switch DW over to paid status, (b) cut off auto-renew on LJ.

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A Ditty

2016-12-25T04:47:39Z

Wandered into my head as I was doing errands, yesterday and today. Original song, and tune, by the late Leonard Cohen:

We ring the bells on Solstice night
Burn candles to bring back the light
To fight the cold and darknes flowing through us
The instruments ring out the song
As everybody sings along
And all faiths join the chorus, Hallelujah!

The Heathens wish a Blessed Yule
It's Happy Hanukkah for Jews
And some folks wish a Merry Saturnalia
The Gaeans call on Mother Earth
Christians laud their Savior's birth
And all faiths join the chorus, Hallelujah!

We burn the fires to bring the Light
And Mithras strives against the Night
You can't let cold and darkness overrule you
The Season's Wheel will surely turn
And as the Sun and Stars still burn
ALL FAITHS JOIN THE CHORUS, HALLELUJAH!

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Calling a stupid idea "Common Sense", doesn't make it un-stupid.

2016-07-09T16:11:55Z

( tl;dr of introductory satire )

Those who know me, can guess where I'm going with this. Yep -- I got one too many accusation of "You fanatics are paranoid, we're not taking your guns, we just want some Common Sense Gun Safety Measures(tm)." First off, let's get one piece of bullshit off the table: These people are not "gun safety advocates". They're pushing gun CONTROL. There's a classic cartoon from my childhood out there:

Yep. I'm not buying the spinach, just because the antis call it broccoli. Now, let's look at the "common-sense" thing. Calling a bad, or stupid, idea "common-sense", does not MAKE it common sense. It's the equivalent of polishing a turd. Anyone, old enough to have graduated potty training, will instantly recognize the smell. Let's dissect some proposals, and see what they smell like, inside.

"We will expand background checks and close dangerous loopholes in our current laws..."

Note that the antis will frequenly claim that there are "No background checks at gun shows", or that you can buy a gun off the Internet with no background check. There is no difference between "at a gun show", and "not at a gun show".

If a Federal Firearm Licensee (aka licensed gun dealer) sells a gun, he does a background check. Period. Store front, gun show, selling to a buddy at a kitchen table, that ATF Form 4473 will get filled out, and background checked via the National Instant Check System (NICS). Incidentally, people will occasionally ask, "What about UNlicensed dealers?" There is no such thing. There are licensed dealers, and criminals. If the BATFE determines that you are "in the business" of buying and selling guns, you either have an FFL, or you're subject to a vacation in Club Fed.

On the other side of the coin, there are private sales. A private seller CANNOT, by law, perform a NICS check. Access to NICS is restricted to FFLs, and Law Enforcement. Let's say Grandpa dies, and leaves you a truckload of guns. You don't need or want all of them. You get a table at a gun show, and sell them off. You're not a dealer, and don't need an FFL, because you're not "in the business". Since you're not an FFL, you can't get access to NICS.

Internet sales? Lemme tell ya about Internet sales: The only way that you will get a gun off the Internet, is (a) order the gun, (b) have it shipped to an FFL of your choice, (c) fill out a 4473. Anything else, you and the seller are up for a trip to Club Fed.

"But we just want Universal Background Checks! How can you object to background checks?" Let's see... Suppose I see something really cool on the 'Net. Can't find it locally, or the guy at Gunbroker wants $100 less than the nearest dealer that has one. My favorite FFL down the road charges $35. I'm good with paying that, because I want that gun at that price.

Now, suppose I want to sell my CETME to my neighbor, or buy his Dragunov. We both have Concealed Handgun Licenses, ergo clean backgrounds. Why the HELL should we be forced to run the purchase through an FFL, fill out the paperwork, and cough up the bucks? Then, you have the Washington State law, which might as well have been deliberately designed to create accidental felons. I'm out hunting with my neighbor. I hand him my gun so I can climb a fence. Misdemeanor. He hands it back. Felony. If you HAVE to have "Universal Background Checks(tm)", here's something I wrote up, and that I'd support: http://www.3fgburner.net/ubcproposal.pdf Basically, free, instant, and guarantees gun owner anonymity.

"We will hold irresponsible dealers and manufacturers accountable..."

This is codespeak for "We want to repeal the Protection of Lawful Commerce in Arms Act (PLCAA)". Antis will claim that the PLCAA grants blanket immunity to firearm manufacturers and dealers, for everything from gross negligence, to defective products. Umm, NO. The Act arose from a set of frivolous lawsuits brought by the gun-ban lobby in the late 1990s, trying to lay blame on manufacturers for criminal misuse of their products. This is approximately equivalent to suing General Motors because a drunk driver plowed a Chevy truck into a crowd and killed a bunch of people. The suits were brought because the antis couldn't get their agenda through Congress, so they figured they'd get their way by misusing the courts.

"We will keep weapons of war -- such as assault weapons -- off our streets..."

In other words, try to reinstate the 1994-2004 ban on "assault weapons". Science fiction author Michael Z Williamson, who also happens to be a firearms expert, wrote an excellent piece on this, back in Dec 2012. Go read that, and get back to me.

The "Assault Weapon" issue is, in essence, a SCAM. The antis were unable to get traction in the 1980s for a handgun ban. Unfortunately, some idiot marketing weenie working for a gun manufacturer, coined the "AW" phrase as an advertising gimmick. The antis picked it up and turned it into a propaganda phrase. The object of the ban, was simply to get a ban of something in place, to get Americans used to the idea of banning guns. Josh Sugarmann, of the Violence Policy Center, outlines the con job, here (No, that link is not to a "right-wing think tank". It's to VPC's website). He says, "The weapons' menacing looks, coupled with the public's confusion over fully automatic machine guns versus semi-automatic assault weapons—anything that looks like a machine gun is assumed to be a machine gun—can only increase the chance of public support for restrictions on these weapons. "

Here's a bit of a pictorial demonstration, click to enlarge:

In other words, the difference between an "assault weapon" and any other detachable-magazine semi-automatic, is cosmetic.

"We will ensure guns do not fall into the hands of terrorists, domestic abusers, other violent criminals, and those with severe mental health issues."

Let's see... The current fad is to add those on the Terror Watch List, and the No Fly list, to NICS as prohibited persons. The problem is, that those lists are secret, arbitrary, and have zero due process for getting off of them, much less even knowing that you're ON them. For example, this veteran got screwed over -- took several years, and a few MILLION dollars' worth of pro-bono legal work from the ACLU to get off the list. And he still has no idea how he got ON it. Tell ya what -- you guarantee me that the lists are 100% free of innocent people, and we'll talk.

"Severe mental health issues" -- Like veterans, or Social Security beneficiaries, who have a fiduciary assistant to handle their benefit checks. Congress has since passed a bill to require that these people have to actually, you know, be ADJUDICATED MENTALLY INCOMPETENT, by a JUDGE, before losing their rights.

"Common Sense Gun Safety", my ass.

One last note on the Homeland Security thing, courtesy of Scott Bieser:

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Quoting a favorite, What a long strange trip it's been

2016-06-18T01:48:55Z

In the Society for Creative Anachronism, we're celebrating 50 years of the Society. The Kingdom of Atlantia, comprising Maryland, DC, Virginia, and the Carolinas, turne 35 years old last month. Roughly the first half of August (and a day or two in July), will mark the 45th Pennsic War.

For me, personally, this night is bigger. Tomorrow is the Birthday Celebration of the Barony of Stierbach. Now, it's been a Barony for 20-something years. As a group, starting as a Shire, Stierbach is, like Atlantia, thirty-five years old this month.

Once upon a time, around 40 years ago, a group started in what was then the southern middle-of-nowhere in the East Kingdom. It was a college group, centered around UVA and called Isenfir. That was my introduction to the SCA. In the Army, in Oklahoma, I endured an SCA-less dry spell of three years, until the Shire (now Barony) of Eldern Hills cranked up outside Ft Sill, Oklahoma. Returning east, I was not going to suffer another dry spell. I became an actual SCA member, and started reading my newsletters as they came in.

I remembered sneaky tricks of group founders. Started a D&D game in the basement that my parents rented to me while I was back in school on the GI bill. Got them interested in my, admittedly, crude armor. Soon, I told them about this group I belonged to.

I actually brought my newbies first to Markland. Got them hooked on fighting there, because Markland swords didn't hurt that much. Then, in February, took 'em to Ice Axe in Yarnvid. They were hooked. In April, I met this Knight, Sir Strykar. He went out of his way to be casual, and not trigger White Belt Phobia. He introduced me to Sir Kenneqrae of Gilchrest, who lived in what we'd started calling "our" turf. These two Knights, and their households, did us the huge service of serving as multi-godparents to the fledgling Shire.

This brings us to the meaning of this weekend's Birthday. Thirty five years ago, the not-yet-even-incipient Shire of Stierbach held its first event. It was at a campground in the middle of nowhere, out past Front Royal. It rained cats and dogs. The feast hall was a couple of tarps, over a couple of picnic tables. The feast itself, was a bucket of Bambi stew, a heap of bread and cheese, and a keg of beer. Things were different in those ancient days.

This was the first of our signature melee tourneys. The King of the East, Siegfried, came down. He brought along sundry notables of the East. His Royal Highness, Bertrand de Flammepoing, came up from Caer Mear. Despite the rain, everybody had a freakin' blast. Bertrand, in fact, had so much fun that he invited us to host his Coronation feast.

In September, my brother roasted beef for 200 in the ovens at the Manassas National Guard Armory. I, meanwhile, cooked a hundred Cornish game hens over a charcoal-filled trench in my parents' back yard. There was a tournament. The feast was well received, and the Shire was recognized as being a going concern.

Most of the ancients are long gone -- moved on, moved out-Kingdom, gafiated, some passed away. One of Sir Kenneqrae's Squires, Viscount Sir Richard of Gilchrest, has returned to the Barony, with his household. Scattered around Atlantia, are former Stierbachers, gone on to serve other branches.

Stierbach taught me what it meant to Do the Job. I was a pretty good Exchequer. Seneschal, meh. That's despite having been the first, third, fifth, and (for a week or two) seventh Seneschal. I was, for a brief time, a Herald. The warrant I still hold, from those days, is Marshall -- since, if I remember right, around 1985-ish. Of course, I've also been a Chirurgeon (formerly warranted, now a Master Chirurgeon in the Guild) for 17 years now. It was this group, that taught me how to be more than just a beer-guzzling stick jock.

I've seen drama in this group. Before learning better, I've contributed to it. I've seen the group have its ups and downs, and I've seen it saved by some extremely wonderful people. I've seen it grow to the mighty Barony which it is now, with each set of Baronage striving to build the Barony higher than the last.

Our Fighters are some of Atlantia's mightiest. Our archers are the bane of the foes' existence. Our cooks, crafters, artisans, and bars are the equal of any in Atlantia, or any other Kingdom. It is my honor, my joy, and my privilege to proclaim, "Ich bin ein Stierbacher!"

I love this place.

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Preserving a Facebook rant

2016-06-14T11:46:39Z

WARNING: Profanity and rudeness ahead.

This may be far enough... Nah.

WARNING: Incoherent rambling and mumbling ahead.

The following is my opinion, larded heavily with wild-ass guesses. It's informed by my experiences, and first-hand knowledge of some people who are, or were, similar to this pukebucket. I'm not writing a SOC 101 paper, so don't expect stats and sources. Take with quantities of salt as appropriate.

Okay, here we go. Now that we're out of the 48-hour window of "scream any bullshit that we hear, just to get the headlines" media coverage, I've formed a general opinion about this shithead, may he rot in piss and his name be forgotten. I will never use his name in public. He is the Orlando Fucktard. He joins the Newtown Asshole, the Umpqua Lamer, the Aurora Dickhead, and all the others who deserve no name-fame.

This wasn't Islamic terrorism. This was an evil, loser-ass shitbag who just threw in a "pledge of allegiance to DAESH" during his attack, so he could get more attention. Somewhere, deep down inside, this dickhead knew he was a loser. I don't know what he was angry about. Don't know his bio. Somewhere, he learned to be an obnoxious prick. Then, he found out that people around him don't LIKE obnoxious pricks. Which made him angrier.

Making a LONG-ass war story super-short, I've had a glimpse inside the head of someone very similar to this schmuck. Knew the dude for 30 years, and he had real good camouflage. He was also a rent-a-cop, except with the Federal Protective Service. Passed his BG checks, evals, qualification tests, everything. Looking really closely at some of his behavior in retrospect, there were some clues. That most of us missed until cracks started appearing in the facade, and the gal who'd been putting up with him, bailed.

Fortunately, his Nefarious Plot(tm) failed, my friends are alive, and he gacked himself when he realized the jig was up. I've read the first batch of 42 suicide notes they found. The scary part was looking in the mirror.

I've seen some of those demons, in myself. I know the process wherein I learned to act in certain ways. I understand my own actions, which drew the bullies who made junior high school a living hell for me. Not, mind you, that understanding those fuckers means i'll ever forgive or forget. I'm NOT that much of a good guy. There's a bunch of reasons why I have not had a drink in 28 years. I have fought down most of those demons. Like another, fictional, Dexter, I channel what's left (see also: Pinkpistols). While this shit was going down in Orlando, I was out in the woods, oblivious. I was also helping some people deal with some shit that, to them, was fairly serious.

Okay, enough with the navel-gazing and soul-searching. Bottom line, I did not become Orlando Shitbucket, or my whackjob ex-friend. It does mean that I can grok (maybe even semi-accurately) some of what they had bouncing in their heads. Incidentally, I also read the screencaps of the Umpqua turdgobbler's 4Chan rant / chat, posted the night before he went out in his blaze of infamy.

What do we do? Open our eyes. If someone had noticed the bruises on his ex-wife (may the Gods grant her healing and solace), and convicted his ass of a Domestic Violence offence, he'd have (a) flunked any NICS check, (b) been fired from his rent-a-cop job, (c) forfeited his gun permit. And his right to own guns.

A mass shooting is happening. What do we do? SHOOT BACK. This guy was stopped by cops, with guns. A few years ago, the Clackamas Mall offal-bucket whacked himself, right after realizing that a permit carrier was trying to line up a shot on him. Jeanne Assam stopped the dickhead at New Life Church in Colorado.

Whole bunches of politicians have, over the last couple of days, permanently lost my vote by proposing stupid shit like banning "assault weapons". Also, this was not a mental health issue. This was an evil dickhead issue. To gun control proponents (and no I will NOT let you get away with your bullshit attempt to re-frame the argument by calling yourselves "gun safety" advocates), I say this: I refuse to be punished, penalized, or have my rights infringed, based on the action of Orlando Schmuckface, Umpqua Shitgobbler, or for that matter Snuffy McDoperson who contributes to Chicago's weekly Orlando-grade body count. Okay, gonna belie my earlier no-stats statement. There are, at a wild-ass guess, somewhere around forty million firearms that, by some anti's definition, could be called "assault weapons". ONE got misused on Sunday morning. Do I need to draw a pie chart, taking up the whole screen, so you can see one different-colored pixel? Didn't think so.

Superstition is sometimes defined as an attempt to use rituals and patterns to control the uncontrollable. Saturday night, a few drops of rain fell, as we were starting the fire conclave at Wickerman Burn. I put on my poncho, as everybody else just kept doing their thing. The rain threat abated, and I removed my poncho, smug in the knowledge that my Murphy Magic(tm) had driven away the storm. Demonizing Islam is superstition. Going all freakazoid on mental-health analysis, is superstition. Banning "assault weapons" is superstition. Stop going for fucking edge-cases, and work on main problems.

[/endrant]

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Well, Tim Kaine's office has, at least, a bot generating form replies.

2015-12-21T17:22:30Z

Dexter Guptill

1 min ·

Okay, so I wrote to Tim Kaine about the asinine, totalitarian, Kafka-brainchild abomination that was Dianne Feinswine's "Denying Firearms and Explosives to Dangerous Terrorists Act".

Here's the reply. I don't care if it's an Evangeliban whackjob, I'm voting Republican, next time Kaine's up for re-election. Fisking in [[brackets.]] Paragraphs broken for fisking legibility.

Mr. Dexter Guptill
[redacted address]

Dear Mr. Guptill:

Thank you for contacting me about the Denying Firearms and Explosives to Dangerous Terrorists Act. I appreciate hearing from you. [[Never mind that you didn't even consider my point of view, as this form letter shows.]]

Federal law prohibits nine categories of individuals from purchasing firearms, including convicted felons, drug users, undocumented immigrants and domestic abusers.
[[GCA '68. Note that people become "prohibited persons" based on judicial due process.]]
It does not, however, prohibit >>suspected<< terrorists from purchasing firearms.
[[>>emphasis<< mine. No shit, Sherlock. What part of "Innocent until proven guilty" don't you get?]]
The U.S. Government Accountability Office found that between 2004 and 2014, suspected terrorists made at least 2,043 firearm purchases through federally licensed firearms dealers.
[[Yeah, because they passed a fucking BACKGROUND CHECK, dimwit.]]

On February 24th, 2015, Senator Dianne Feinstein introduced the Denying Firearms and Explosives to Dangerous Terrorists Act, S. 551.
[[Of course she did. Senator "That's it, Mr and Mrs America, turn them all in" Feinstein never met an excuse for tyranny that she didn't like.]]
The bill would prohibit individuals known >>or suspected<< of being engaged in terrorism or providing support to terrorists from purchasing firearms.
[["known or suspected" -- I have a friend who's on the "No Fly" list, most likely because of a blog post that compared the Bush-era Heimatsicherheitsdienst to Dolores Umbridge from the Harry Potter books. You can get on that list by having a dickhead neighbor report you to the Fibbies.]]
The bill would also create an appeal process for individuals who believed that they were wrongfully prevented from purchasing a firearm. This legislation has been referred to the Senate Judiciary Committee.
[["appeal process"... Suuuure it would. Let's start with the juicy bits at http://tinyurl.com/S551Text -- First off, get a lawyer, then file in court. Which court? We're not going to tell you. Oh, and you have 60 days from denial to figure out where to file, hire a lawyer, and do the bureaucracy. The standard for sustaining the denial is "preponderance of evidence", based on "summaries or redacted versions of documents containing information the disclosure of which the AG has determined would likely compromise national security".]]

I am a cosponsor of the Denying Firearms and Explosives to Dangerous Terrorists Act.
[[Of course you are, you gun-grabbing twatwaffle.]
We must do all we can [[Including, of course, shredding the Bill of Rights]]
to keep our American homeland secure [[Sieg Heil!]]
and while there is no one answer to preventing future terrorist attacks, we must at least prevent known >>and suspected<< terrorists from easily purchasing dangerous firearms. [[Oooooh, DANGEROUS firearms!]]
I believe the bill strikes a careful balance between security and the protection of civil liberties.
[[Know what, Timmy-boy? I believe that you wouldn't know a civil liberty if it shot you in the ass with an AR15.]]

Please be assured that I will keep your views in mind should the Senate consider the Denying Firearms and Explosives to Dangerous Terrorists Act. Thank you again for contacting me.
[[Your entire frigging letter just said that you don't give a rat's ass about my views.]]

Sincerely, [[HA!]]
[cute sig gif]
Tim Kaine

I'm SOOO tempted to send this in response. But then I'd get on Der Nicht-Fliegende-Verzeichnis.
Dear Timmy-boy,
μολὼν λαβέ.

Sincerely,
Dex

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A Rant: "You never come up with any proposals for 'Gun Violence'(tm)"

2015-09-02T00:16:55Z

In response to:

The question actually had to do with gun safety. Not one of you addressed that. Do you not think there is a problem?

Let's start with the fact that 2/3 of "gun deaths", are suicides. 22 a day, are veterans. That's not just people with PTSD from recent combat, either. It's older vets, who can't get needed treatment from the VA. It's chronic pain sufferers, who can't get real painkillers because of the War On Opioids.

The "problem", for the vast majority of homicides, is CRIMINALS. My proposal:

Ditch the War on Drugs. Legalize and tax most drugs, decriminalize and mandate treatment for the nasty things like crack, meth, heroin, etc.

Free, and pardon (with full restoration of rights) non-violent drug-possession convicts.

Stop plea-bargaining, and fully prosecute, any repeat violent offender caught in possession of a fiream. Prosecute straw purchases. Yank the license of, and prosecute, rogue FFLs.

Other side's Proposals, and my opinion of them:
Waiting periods: worthless.

Registration: Worthless, and in most cases (NY, NJ, DC) designed expressly to make it as much of a pain in the ass as possible, to own a gun. It's also an enabler for future, planned, confiscations.

License-to-own: Too much risk of arbitrary denial (NY, NJ, MA)

Mandated Safety Course to Own: As long as it's free / taxpayer funded, and not the $300 you have to pay to own a handgun in DC.

How about this? All schools teach Eddie Eagle in elementary school. All schools teach a no-hardware (to soothe the hoplophobes) version of NRA Home Firearm Safety. In high school Phys Ed, everybody gets a pick of Basic Rifle and Basic Shotgun. End of problem.

Semi-auto firearm, and magazine bans: Worthless and STUPID.

No mass shooting has ever been stopped by bum-rushing the attacker while he was reloading. So-called "reloading" stoppages were none of the kind. Rather, the bad guys were trying to clear jams. Pretty much all of the malfunctions were caused by their fancy, "extended", magazines. That's right -- oversize, aftermarket, larger-than-factory mags, tend to be jam-o-matics.

Semi-auto rifle bans are based on a scam. To quote Josh Sugarmann, of the Violence Policy Center (vpc.org) on the subject: " Assault weapons—just like armor-piercing bullets, machine guns, and plastic firearms—are a new topic. The weapons' menacing looks, coupled with the public's confusion over fully automatic machine guns versus semi-automatic assault weapons—anything that looks like a machine gun is assumed to be a machine gun—can only increase the chance of public support for restrictions on these weapons."

From S.66, "The Assault Weapons Ban of 2019":
SECTION 1. Short title.

This Act may be cited as the “Assault Weapons Ban of 2019”.

SEC. 2. Definitions.

(a) In general.—Section 921(a) of title 18, United States Code, is amended—
“(H) All of the following rifles, copies, duplicates, variants, or altered facsimiles with the capability of any such weapon thereof:
“(xix) Sturm, Ruger & Co. Mini-14 Tactical Rifle M–14/20CF.

(e) Appendix A.—Section 922 of title 18, United States Code, is amended by adding at the end the following:

APPENDIX A—FIREARMS EXEMPTED BY THE ASSAULT WEAPONS BAN OF 2017

Centerfire Rifles—autoloaders

“Ruger Mini 30
“Ruger Mini-14 (w/o folding or telescoping stock or pistol grip)

Banning firearms for having pistol grips??! As I said above, it's a scam.

Note that when people like the Demanding Mommies and others of Bloomberg's Useful Idiots say "Gun Safety", they're trying to re-frame the debate. In their mouths, "Gun Safety" is a euphemism for Gun CONTROL.

ADDENDUM, Jun 2017:
have, since this writing, added a couple of thoughts to my opinion on this matter:

Comparing "Honor Culture", and "Dignity Culture": Honor cultures evolve where there is no rule of law, or where the law is incompetent, unreliable, or untrusted. Basically, disputes are handled by the disputants, via force. In a Dignity culture, disputants go to the Law to mediate. Consider Conan the Barbarian, versus Perry Mason.

Examples: In some cities, the Law is not your friend. It's the enemy. Stop-and-frisk, prison pipeline, predatory policing. Those people who view cops as being predators, won't call the cops. Not to mention, nobody's going to call 911 and say, "That dude just robbed me for a pound of weed." He's going to shoot the robber and take his weed back. In an Honor culture, in addition, to show weakness is to be prey.

Another thought:
I've seen a bunch of articles, and there's lots of literature online, about compassion-based school discipline. Basically, a kid blows up in class. Gets sent to the office. Instead of punishing him and forgetting him, the principal, or a counselor, asks, "What's wrong?" After a few rounds of this, when the kid is about to go off, he raises his hand and says, "I need to get to the office, and talk to Mr ___, like NOW." Reduces suspensions and detentions like 70%. Used in a couple of juvenile-detention facilities in New England, reduced recidivism 60%.

In the "If I could wave a magic wand" department:
In addition to the War on Drugs, I would also put an end to predatory policing. My usual response to a news story of someone suing cops is: "Crush the Department. See it driven to financial obliteration. Take its assets and its budget, and hear the lamentations of the bean-counters."

I'd give the department the option to save itself from obliteration, and have the punitive damages reduced from "destructive" to "painful", by publicly holding a 19th-Century style drumming-out ritual to fire the rights-violating officer. And if the officer shot a dog or other pet, hold a full police funeral for the pet.

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Best Pennsic in 20 years

2015-08-11T05:20:33Z

As I prepare to dive back into the mundane world tomorrow, my tent dry, clothes washed, gear more-or-less stashed, I realize I haven't actually posted the whole war thing.

Start with getting to Zero Night about an hour after Troll opened. Got trolled in, set up my tent, and hung out. Pulled my first Watch shift at 1700, albeit not a full one. My cart clapped out in the Bog, halfway through. Land Grab itself went way easier than before, but then we had a hot and brutal wait while our setup contingent was stuck in Troll for 4 hours.

Sunday afternoon, town run for all the stuff I didn't bring up initially. Got home Sunday evening, spent Monday packing, loaded a bit more Tuesday, and got back up to War around 1500. During all the trips up and back, nary a traffic jam one. I'll take that and run with it.

Peace Week Wednesday and Thursday were my last remaining unscheduled days. Thursday, I got to attend Auntie Arwen's excellent Norse Medicine class. Friday, the awesome began with great turnout and good fun had by all at my firearms class.

Saturday, getting my armor inspected. Then, Guild of St Barbara meeting in the afternoon, then attending the Knighthood vigil of my Squire-sister, Cunen Beornhelm. First vigil where I've walked a candidate over to Odyssey Coffee between the departure of the Peer advisors, and settling down for the vigil. We wrapped about 0400.

Sunday -- Up at 0730, on to the guns for Opening Ceremonies. Thus, was in on firing the first shots of the War. Sunday PM, stopped in at the forge where Cunen's Lady, Ariadne Flaxenhair, was forging her spurs. Those spurs: The heel-straps were forged of iron smelted mostly at Pennsic. The bronze for the pricks was made onsite, from copper and tin smelted at previous Pennsics.

Monday: Up to inspect and Marshall, and wound up writing up a knowledge base article on mangling Windrose / Mandrake spear tips into something that would pass inspection. Marshalled the Castle Battle, then off to a couple meetings of the leadership and membership, of the newly reconstituted Chirurgeons' Guild. Then, Mardi Gras! Yes, it's always on Monday night. At Wickerman this year, I was gifted a fire-blanket. Threw it into my pocket, and at Mardi Gras, asked if they needed spotter help. Yes, and of course spotters get the best seat in the house. WIN.

Tuesday: Rose with the sun, armored up, and fought the Bridge Battles. My major function was soaking up enemy fire. First Bridge, I was fifty feet behind the lines, and sustained a good blow to the head. Looking around, I found a ballista bolt on the ground behind me. I noted that getting shot with a helm on is an improvement over eating a bolt in the face while marshalling. Second and third bridges, I got to the front lines, and annoyed a few people before getting gacked. Died early enough on the third Bridge, that I could get back to camp and shuck the armor. Thus, did not have to shoot for the Rapier Town Battle in my gambeson.

Dashed down off the hill, showered, and dressed in my spiffies with all the bling. Yes. That's right. I. Dressed. Up. For. Court. I was slated to process in as part of Cunen's harem of consorts, since she'd fought for me in a Crown. Not having time to cook, I hit the Beast and Boar for dinner. The dinner special was St Louis Baby Back Ribs. Yes, you got that right also. Dressed to the nines, and dinner was BBQ ribs. In a feat of gustatory Dexterity (heh), I ate an entire rack, with green beans and coleslaw, without getting one single drop of sauce or other rib-goo on me.

Court: Summarize it as the most epic Knighting I have ever attended. His Majesty Aethelmearc, Timothy of Arindale, wrote the words to her scroll. Speaking for her were Countess Allanda de Warwick, our Knight's Lady, as Lady of the Rose; Viscount Sir Master Daffydd ap Gwalchmai, our former Squire-Brother, as the Laurel; Master William de Montegilt, senior Pelican of Aethelmearc (formerly one of the senior Pels of Atlantia); and, alas, amnesia strikes me on the Knight who spoke for the Chivalry. Notable, however, is that in Aethelmearc, they have additional Worthies speak of the candidate. Cunen and Flaxie didn't know to ask a Royal Peer. When one was asked for, Duke Cuan of Atlantia stepped up and spoke.

In the bestowing of regalia, King Timothy told the tale of the chain. It began as one he wished to give her. He had it sent to Atlantia, where the Knights at Ruby Joust were asked to each wear it for a passage at arms. It was Fedexed around the country, and worn by King Havordh of An Tir, Count Thorbrand of Outlands, Viscount Daffydd of Northshield, Earl Knarlic of Caid, and Duke Valharic of Atenveldt, among others. It then made its way back to Aethelmearc, where it was worn by a plethora of other Knights. In the eight weeks between Writ and Elevation, that chain was worn by sixty-seven or more Knights.

I normally avoid Court. I would not have missed this, though an army of trolls barred my way.

Wednesday morning, I had to dash to the far west end of the War zone, to roll cannon charges for Thursday and Friday. Then, a meeting of the Master Gunners of the Guild, on its future direction. Dash back to camp, grab a wagon, and load up with teaching materials.

Had a fantastic group of students for Medicine, Physick, and Surgery, including a couple of modern medical pros who added some interesting insights to the conversation. Master Bedwyr, of the East Kingdom, did me the honor of co-teaching with me (and bringing his toys) on Evolution of Firearms. Finished the afternoon up with a Master Chirurgeons' meeting.

Wednesday evening, wandered around Midnight Madness, but didn't shop except to pick up a thrumm cap, then hung out briefly at a mini-bardic circle at camp.

Thursday was Woods Battle day. For the Guild, that means 0900-1700 on the hill. Bring a chair. Bring water. Bring lunch. Bring things to do. It's a long day.

For the evening, I was over in the food court when mention was made that the Viking Funeral boat would be coming through. I've known of it for years, and seen it burn from a distance a couple of times. This year, I went over to check it out.

The boat itself was five feet long, and the gunwales crammed with round shields bearing the arms of those who had passed. Among them was Baron Adhemar, of the Gunners' Guild. The most-honored departed one of the year gets his or her arms on the sail. In this case, it was Master Merlin the Archer, who'd never registered arms. Thus, the sail bore the handicap-access symbol, with the seated figure holding a bow and arrow. The procession was led, in fact, by kin of his pushing his wheelchair, laden with his arms. Of note, on the foredeck, was an oblong black object: A miniature Federation Starfleet Mark VI photon-torpedo casing, labeled for Leonard Nimoy.

In another stroke of the great things that made this war fantastic for me, I got picked as a boat-bearer. We carried it through the marketplace, and down to Runestone Park. The lantern which would provide the flame for its ignition was lit there, then down to the lake and out onto the grassy spit protruding. As we were getting the boat lit, a call went out for any who wished to place a token in the boat. I had a Saint Barbara pin in my pouch. In honor of Baron Adhemar, and the Marines who died in Chattanooga (Artillerymen, they were), I placed it in the boat.

I shall have to make the Boat Burn a feature of my future Pennsics.

Friday dawned clear as usual. I actually had a fairly leisurely morning, then went up the hill to fire for the Rapier Field Battle. Master Michael Graham and I shot the openings and closings, and I got to fire the last shot of the War. Friday night, a final trip to the Bog was most memorable.

Saturday, the ADHD kicked in and my pack-out was over-leisurely. I got out of camp and off to my motel room just before dark. However, this was NOT before the one bit of sustained rain we'd had all Pennsic, sent me home with wet canvas. Sunday, one of the smoothest trips back I've had in years, and got the car pretty much unloaded. Today was drying the tent, laundry, and return to the World.

Oh -- and on the way back, I composed a song.

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On the way back from Pennsic, I made this.

2015-08-09T19:18:41Z

Pennsic Warrior's Lament

There is a song in the SCA, which I first ran across in an East Kingdom songbook thirty years ago. The book was gifted me in thanks for something I'd done, but that's another adventure and a LONG (at least two-beverage) tale itself. The song is “Farewell Ye Banks of Cooper's Lake”, by Bronwyn Jourdemaine. It's to the tune of “Banks of Sicily”.

I never learned the song or the tune, but the title stuck in my head. As a lyric, it scans rather well to the beginning of “MacPherson's Lament”. For years now, as I depart Cooper's Lake, that line pops into my head, to that tune. Then, I go on, humming “MacPherson's” to myself as I drive. Thus, Lady Bronwyn, with her song title, gave me my first line.

Returning from Pennsic this day, I realized that “It'd be great if someone wrote that”, wouldn't get anyone anywhere. I turned off the radio, fired up the voice recorder so I'd remember what I did, and tortured my phone for about sixty miles. Rather than torture the reader with a recording, here are the lyrics and a link to the tune:

Pennsic Warrior's Lament

Dexter Guptill aka Erich von Kleinfeld

Tune: MacPherson's Lament

Farewell, ye shores of Cooper's Lake, Farewell, Farewell to thee.

A year apart may not be long, but feels much longer to me

(Chorus)

We fought all day and we danced all night, we feasted and we sang,

It grieves my heart that now we part, but I'll return again

In Battle's fury we found our joy, our mettle we did test,

On Pennsic field amid friend and foe, found brothers we love best. (Chorus)

Of Arts and Lore we taught and learned, and thereby did we grow,

In song and stories told by firelight, our memories' seeds did sow.

(Chorus)

We bog-ward wend in quest of ribaldry, by drum and firelight,

It's folly, for tomorrow I must fight, but I'll not sleep tonight. (Chorus)

We cheered in Court when friends were recognized, we wept as Longship burned,

This mundane world may be so drab and gray, but I vow I'll return.

(Chorus)

The cannons roar and the armies clash, in quest of victory.

Some years we win, and some we lose, it matters naught to me.

(Chorus)x2

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Musings of a Hugo Voter: Ballot's as done as it's gonna get

2015-07-23T04:50:43Z

I haven't been keeping up with the bloggage on this, because I've been rushing to fill the ballot. Yes, the deadline is midnight, Jul 31st. As of the afternoon of Jul 24, except for a brief town run for the rest of my stuff, I'm going to be out in the woods till Aug 10. Herewith, my ballot. Reviews of some of the down-ballot stuff as I get time. Starting with non-Hugo stuff first, then on to the Hugo noms:

Worldcon 2017 Site Selection: 1. DC 2. Montreal 3. Helsinki 4. Japan.

Campbell Award: 1. Kary English   2. Jason Cordova 3. Wesley Chu.

On to the Hugos.

Best Novel: 1. Jim Butcher, Skin Game 2. Katherine Addison, Goblin Emperor 3. Cixin Liu, Three Body Problem 4. Ann Leckie, Ancillary Sword.
Kevin Anderson, Dark Between the Stars blank. My review is as follows -- tl;dr. Lame, preachy first chapter, followed by immediate shift to another, rather nasty viewpoint character. Bleh.

Novella: 1. Tom Kratman, "Big Boys Don't Cry" 2. Arlan Andrews, "Flow"
John C Wright's stuff, blank -- just didn't like it enough to put in the effort of reading.

Novelette: 1. Rajnar Vajra, "The Triple Sun: A Golden Age Tale"   2. Gray Rinehart, "Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust, Earth to Alluvium"   3. Michael Flynn, "Journeyman: In the Stone House"   4. Edward Lerner, "Championship B'Tok"   5. Thomas Olde Heuvelt, "The Day the World Turned Upside Down".

Short Story: 1. Steve Rzasa, "Turncoat"   2. Steven Diamond, "A Single Samurai"   3. Kary English, "Totaled"   4. Lou Antonelli, "On a Spiritual Plain"   5. John C Wright, "The Parliament of Beasts and Birds".

Related Work: 1. Lou Antonelli, "Letters from Gardner" 2. Tedd Roberts, "Why Science is Never Settled" 3. Ken Burnside, "The Hot Equations" 4. Michael Z Williamson, "Wisdom From My Internet"** 5. John C Write, "Transhuman and Subhuman"
** I haven't read all of "WFMI", but that's because it's not something you read at one sitting. I keep it on my phone, and snack on it. The reason I've got a friend's writing so low on the ballot is (A) he published the damn thing as a joke, and is amazed at the money it's making him, not to mention surprised at the nom; and (B) it was NOMINATED as a joke, by someone that MadMike doesn't even like.

Graphic Story: 1. Kurtis Welbe, "Rat Queens"   2. Brian Vaughan, "Saga Volume 3"   3. G Willow Wilson, "Ms Marvel Volume 1"   4. Noah Ward. 5. Matt Fraction, the truly execrable "Sex Criminals".

Professional Editor, Short:  1. Mike Resnick, others blank because not familiar.

Professional Editor, Long: 1. Toni Weisskopf   2. Jim Minz   3. Anne Sowards   4. Sheila Gilbert

Professional Artist: 1. Julie Dillon   2. Alan Pollack   3. Nick Greenwood   4. Kirk DouPonce

Fanzine: 1. Tim Bolgeo, "Revenge of Hump Day" (it's the one I read.)

Fan Writer: 1. Laura J Mixon 2. Cedar Sanderson   3. Amanda S Green 4. Dave Freer 5. Jeffro Johnson.

Fan Artist:   1. Spring Schoenhuth   2. Ninni Aalto   3. Elizabeth Leggett   4. Steve Stiles   5. Brad Foster.

Note that I voted for Noah Ward exactly once, and that was because I loathed "Sex Criminals" so much that I wanted to print a copy, just so I could burn it.

Reviews as I find time to write them.

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Where I'm coming from (on guns and preparation)

2015-07-08T17:02:58Z

Steven Barnes, on his Facebook page, has been having a number of discussions on gun control. One thread comment included the following;

"To me one of the fascinating things about watching these arguments is to see how emotional some people can get about the underlying issue of "is the world safe?" --I can understand why people who have been hurt can get emotional about why the world is more dangerous than some people believe, but I find it odd that many people insist on trying to make others agree that the world is safe and those who disagree are paranoid."

This does bring up something, regarding worldviews. Some of it is experience-based. I've seen studies showing that some of the liberal-conservative split is based on one's experiences of safety vs danger.

I do not see the world as a safe place. This does not mean that I am "afraid", as a lot of anti-gun people accuse. This means that I work on being prepared to deal with the dangers.

I have a gun permit, and where legal, I carry one. Where not legal, I have a knife and pepper spray. I also have a CPR mask and gloves, and a first aid kit on me. My current highest certification is from Wilderness First Aid: Casual Hikers, Rural Living, Urban.... I have fire extinguishers in my house and car. I'm a member of Fairfax County CERT Volunteers. I can live out of my car for about a week, including tent, bedding, food, water, cooking gear, fire starters, and whatnot.

How did I get this way? I lived overseas for the majority of my childhood. That includes being in Brazzaville, Congo, in second grade during their revolution. Toddler years were in Germany during the Cold War. I don't remember it, but my mother told me about going through my first bombing raid at five weeks old (born in Cyprus, Egyptians looking to bomb the Brits during the Suez Crisis). In Brazza, I got attacked by a kid with a razor blade, in first grade, trying to mug me for my lunch.

A few weeks ago, I got a friend request and got chatted up by an old 4th-5th grade classmate from the American School of Kinshasa alumni group here on Facebook. During the chat, I asked, "By the way, refresh my memory -- was that you and your sisters, or [other classmate], that got taken hostage by rebels right after I got back stateside in '67?" She said it was her, and happened several times.

I also grew up in a dysfunctional family -- the old man was an abusive drunk. When I quit drinking, I spent at least as much time in the first couple of years getting over being raised by a drunk, as from being one.

Bottom line, my distrust in the benevolence of the Universe is experience-based. Because I've seen the dark side of authority figures abusing power, I'm libertarian rather than conservative. I'm also much more prone to self-reliance, than asking for help -- which is sometimes a weakness of mine. On the other hand, it's a distinct advantage when crap hits the fan.

So, I'm the guy who's constantly getting asked for a band-aid or an Advil. I'm the guy who's got a knife to open the box. I'm the guy with a screwdriver, or scissors. I'm the guy with a spare coil of rope in the car, to keep someone's tent on the ground in a howling blizzard. I'm the guy at work who, when the fire alarm triggers, runs to his office for the orange vest, and gets everybody else out first. For that matter, when the earthquake hit DC a few years back, I wound up with people clustering around me in the street, because they "felt safer" near me.

So, libertarian politically, lacking faith in the goodness of the Universe (I actually think that it doesn't give a rat's ass, and shit just happens), believer in self-reliance to whatever extent is possible, and I want to be ready. Note that this also means that I can ride the waves of chaos with equanimity, which is why I enjoy Burning (as in Burning Man) activities. That's where I'm coming from.

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Musings of a Hugo Voter: The Goblin Emperor, by Katherine Addison

2015-07-02T01:39:48Z

This book will not be to everyone's taste. Strip away the world-building, steampunk, elves, and goblins, and it's a pretty straightforward Bildungsroman -- a coming-of-age story. I, however, liked it.

Maia, a young Elf lord with some goblin in him (think mixed-race, including status issues on the elf side of the fence), is woken in the middle of the night to find out that he's Emperor. This is not helped by the fact that after his mother died, he's been shuffled off to be raised in the ass-end of nowhere by a vengeful, bitter drunk who pissed off his Imperial Old Man, back in the day. Anyway, an airship crash that wipes out Dad, brothers, and everyone else ahead of him in the Imperial succession, drops him in the deep end and he has to learn to swim.

Of course, this being a Bildungsroman, he grows into it. He spends a large chunk of the book playing catch-up on all the stuff he missed out on, during the dysfunctional-upbringing phase. He also shocks a lot of people by being a most un-Imperially decent person. There's stumbling blocks, evil stepmothers (including one who's only a couple years older than him, and a brat), nefarious plots, and adapting to life in the Imperial precincts.

Addison's world-building and level of detail vary with distance from the Palace. The outer lands are painted with the spare strokes of a Japanese artist working with brush and ink. Immediate surroundings are described in enough detail that you can imagine them, without resorting to info-dumps. The bits and pieces of language are thrown in in such a way that I derived some amusement on the side, deducing grammar and syntax and whatnot. The plot moves along, for all that most of it is happening around Maia and in his head.

This one is most emphatically not about exploding spaceships (well, one airship gets blown up, off-camera), or armored armies clashing with sword and spear, or horse-chases, or whatnot. It's still worthwhile as a coming-of-age story.

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Musings of a Hugo Voter: Big Boys Don't Cry, by Tom Kratman

2015-06-30T03:03:52Z

Killing a couple birds with one stone, herewith my Amazon review:

This is NOT a cheap imitation Bolo story. Indeed, it pokes some holes in that 'verse., June 29, 2015
ObDisclaimer: I don't claim to be objective. I know Tom. I've been a character in a couple of his
books (yes, he killed me. Along with a whole PT boat full of other IRL fans.). That said, I'll echo
the other reviewers who are saying, this ain't yer typical Kratman. Some will make a big deal about
this being published by Castalia instead of Baen -- as if, perhaps, this one didn't come up to Baen's
standards. Wrong -- It's because Baen is still printing Laumer's Boloverse stories, and this is
anything but.

Starting with "Honor of the Regiment", Laumer's Bolos are quintessential soldiers. They are imbued
with military virtues, esprit de corps, and all that good stuff. The one question that nobody asks in the
Bolo stories, and indeed, very few readers have asked, is how did they get that way? Tom fires up
the cooker and bakes us a similar universe, with his own brand of not-quite-Bolo cybertanks,
called Rathas. In particular, the viewpoint character in this novella is a female-persona Ratha
named Magnolia aka Maggie. Things start out very similar to a Boloverse story, and then the
black-and-white starts giving way to ever-murkier shades of moral gray. By the end, you find out
how (at least in this universe) a baby AI can be turned into a killing machine. It's vaguely
reminiscent of BF Skinner on meth. It is said that one really doesn't want to watch laws, or
sausage, being made. Training a cybertank AI can be similar.

A spoiler -- Maggie finds redemption in the final sentence.

I got this as part of the Hugo packet, and am reviewing what I read, as voting notes.

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Wickerman Burn 2015: Complete

2015-06-22T12:54:41Z

So: Home, showered, changed, and relaxing. Because some stuff didn't happen last night, it happened today. That delayed my breaking of camp, and arrival home. When I called home from I-68 at 1930, A predicted to the minute my arrival at 2200. Anyway, this Wickerman was a good burn.

I had a bit of last-minute packing panic, because last weekend filled up on me and I couldn't get to the locker till Tuesday, for tent, furniture, and whatnot. Wednesday evening, dinner out and gassing up. One of my MASH crew (Wickerman first-aid volunteers) needed a ride. He packed somewhat light, got a ride to BWI, then took the train to Union Station, 3 blocks from my office. Rolled out of work, hit the road, and arrived at Four Quarters at 2130. Checked in, dropped off the first-aid setup at the designated location, and wound up grabbing what looked like the last available spot in car camping.

Both my passenger, S, and I decided to forget putting up tents in the dark and rain. and went out-and-about to see what was up. Hung out at the Coffee Dragon a bit, schmoozing, then headed bog-ward. After muchly interesting times, I headed up-hill at 0400ish. There being a perfectly good first-aid shelter, where I'd dropped off a cot, I crashed there about 0430. As it happened, my minion was already crashed on Sanctuary's floor cushions. I awoke at 0700 or so.

Up to the Coffee Dragon, to wake up. Then, back to the car to unload and set up. So, there I am, looking around for a more-level spot than right behind my car, which was badly slanted. Up-hill a tad, folks in the camp there pointed to a spot. Looked good, I set up, and they adopted me into the camp. Camp Debauchery, I love you. I'd pretty much set up as a solo camp the first two years, and then this year, Boom -- taken in. Burners -- Radical Inclusion doesn't just mean everyone welcome at the Burn. It also means that within the Burn itself, groups can, and frequently do, incorporate those who fall into their proximity.

Made the noon Ranger meeting, and found the signup sheet for my MASH personnel, as well as hooking up with Thor, my co-lead. We had some of our volunteers make that meeting, and guided them to the paper sheet, since the online Google-doc appears to have been less than user-friendly. A bunch of us then finished setting up MASH. That wound up getting moved around a bit, because Sanctuary had a hexayurt on the same covered stage that we were using. A digression, here, to explain: At any given burn, there is a possibility of people suffering sensory overload, or emotional overload, or just having a really bad trip. Sanctuary is a safe and (usually quieter) place to unwind, and reconsolidate headspace.

Got in some hands-on helping, here and there. One of my quirks about crew-chief slots at Pennsic was that frequently, I didn't get to treat anything. I did quite a bit of patching up boo-boos at Wickerman. Hell, my first was applying an Ace bandage at about 0300 on Friday morning. *** Note to self: re-stock on Ace bandages before this weekend. ***

Friday evening, walked a friend down creekside so she could crash before her midnight-to-0400 Ranger shift. Got to talking with some new arrivals, and then realized (a) it was 2130 (b) I was down creek side and (c) the fireworks were going to start. Another Four Quarters first-time for me -- there is a somewhat obscure, and rather eroded, path, straight from creekside up to the back of the Standing Stones. One of its nicknames is Heart Attack road, because of length and slant. I was just coming out of the front side of the Stones, and the first piece went off. WIN. On the other hand, I missed getting video of the first few minutes. I thought the fireworks were whiting-out the camera on my phone. Then, during a gap between bursts, I realized (a) the phone's camera had gotten reversed, and (b) I was recording a selfie-vid of my headlamp.

This year's effigy was also built as a DJ podium. Danced a bit, got some video of the thing in stage mode, and scoped out some of the art. Wound up at about 2300, checking in on MASH, and realizing I might want some Zs. Like, finished drinking a Monster, yawning, and having Thor point out that 2-1/2 hours of sleep in the preceding 40 wasn't all that much. Got back to camp, found a bit of bardic fun going on with a friend helping the festivities, contributed a song, and crashed.

Saturday during the day, was MASHing, fire-safety briefing, lots and lots of get-togethers with old friends, and making new ones. The pulled-pork BBQ I'd brought to kick in to whichever dinner I'd be hanging around at, was duly appreciated and consumed at Debauchery's evening feed. Meanwhile, of course, Tropical Storm >> Tropical Depression >> Tropical Bad Mood Bill was bearing down on us. Just around dark-ish, the downpours began. We'd gotten some flood warnings, but fortunately Sideling Creek decided to behave itself. It did, however, put a bit of a kibosh on pyromanic festivities.

You can't keep Burners down, though. Prediction came through that there would be an hour-and-a-half or so gap in the rain. The big bell at the Stones was rung, helper-types got together for Burn perimeter, the crowd assembled, and the effigy was torched. It went up most amazingly (gots ta edit the video and get it up ASAP), people danced around the fire, and then everybody hauled ass undercover as we got more of Bill. I told Thor that his namesake was being mean to us. Not to mention, a few lightning strikes where the flash-to-bang lag was uncomfortably close to zero...

Wound up MASHing and hanging out with Sanctuary till around 0100, then, amazingly, got a second night's sleep in a row at a Burn. Must have been the weather. Awake around 0700, my friend K-dubz outside my tent, calling "Dexter! I've got your tail!". Then I realized (a) that the foxtail had gone byebye off my hat, and (b) she'd found one. Alas, I had to tell her that it was not my tail. She took that one off to lost-and-found at the Dragon, and I bade mine farewell. It's probably a wild animal's chew-toy now.

The decision had been made to hold Conclave around 1030, concurrent with the Art Burn. There were a couple of major pieces, including one big wood sculpture that the builders had also configured as a port-a-Temple. They walked around with a box of wood blocks and some Sharpies, and had people write down that which they desired to release. Then, it went into the center of their art piece. No matches necessary -- the pieces were schlepped over and plopped onto the coals of the Effigy.

Meanwhile, at 1045 we had 6 spotters, no spinners. Finally got a few at around 1100. Josh the fire-safety guy and I, had talked a bit about spinning. I mentioned that a set of practice poi had caused me flashbacks to the times I'd fought morningstar in Markland, and my unfortunate habit of killing myself with the damn thing. Josh said, "Well, I've got a flaming spear you can try out...". A. Flaming. Spear. While we were spotting for the other spinners, he sent someone to camp, who fetched it.

I had never to that point, actually handled or played with a lit fire-toy. I know how to put them out, and put people out who've lit themselves on fire. I have, however, got a bit of experience playing with spears and polearms and such. Bottom line, my first-ever time handling a burning whatever, was SPINNING IN A CONCLAVE. Someone asked me later if I was afraid, and I said, "Yes, a bit. Afraid of doing something stupid, or worse, looking dumb." The questions I actually got afterward, were about what martial art I practiced.

Between drying stuff out, Conclave running late, and packing, and whatnot, I got my stuff loaded and packed up MASH way later than I'd thought. I made it back, though. A couple of flashes -- I'd gifted Matt the effigy builder a handful of my Frostburn firestarters. They're actually made of the wood shavings you get from the pet store for gerbil cages, soaked in wax. Best compliment I got all weekend was Matt asking if I'd put thermite in them, from the way they went up. Another flash -- You might be getting dehydrated if... the half-drunk bottle of Gatorade at the bottom of the MASH trash bag looks appealing :-b.

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