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January 31, 2005
Breathtaking
Hat tip to Michelle Malkin
Our heroes standing with their heroes (those people ARE heroes). Prepare to wipe away the tears, it is fantastic.
Posted by RobF at 04:40 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Freedom!
Despite the efforts of foreign terrorists in Iraq and the evil American left, elections took place, as planned, in Iraq over the weekend with minimal violence and an impressively large voter turnout. This is truly a historic time for the Iraqi people and for democracy.
Sometimes it’s hard to see the relevance of an event that takes place half a world away. It’s so easy to focus on differences in cultures and not see the truly human side to events. The Iraqi people proved a great many people wrong this weekend. Despite threats of violence and despite decades of tyranny, men and women came to the polls and voted for future freedom and democracy.
Because leftist politicians, the mainstream media, and thousands of clueless kooks refuse to state the obvious, I’ll use my cyber-podium to say what I feel in my heart.
First, thank you President George W. Bush. You are truly a rare breed of politician. You have led, and I believe will continue to lead with honesty, conviction, and unparalleled courage. You are a man of honor and a man who keeps his word. The mainstream media and the liberals in congress refuse to acknowledge your recent success only because it flies in the face of everything they stand for, corruption, lies, government control, and anti-Americanism. Congratulations, Mr. President, on this first of many successes in our bitter struggle against terror.
Next, thank you Iraqi patriots, your courage and commitment are astounding. It’s easy to become cynical when the news of daily events in Iraq unfolds in the comfort of our living rooms. As much as I hate to admit it, I can be counted among the guilty that did not have much faith in the commitment of the Iraqi people to fight for their freedom. Much of the stench of anti-Americanism in the U.S. can be attributed to the fact that, as a people, we have had it so good for so long. My generation and my father’s generation could honestly claim that we have never endured real hardship. Having never seen our liberty threatened from external forces has made our country contemptuous and complacent. It has bred a miserable undertone of self loathing. Seeing thousands of Iraqi citizens risk everything for the chance to vote should be a message to the whole world. Freedom prevails, even in the face of unspeakable violence and oppression. In the face of a Muslim world so quick to condemn liberty, Iraqi men and women proudly display their dyed purple fingers. A new symbol for liberation from tyranny has been born and the Iraqi people proudly bear the scars of sacrifice to make it possible. The Iraqi people deserve our appreciation, our admiration, and our support.
Finally, thank you American Service Men and Women. In a world that seemingly acknowledges, accepts, and placates evil, the American soldier, alone, stands for everything that is just. The demands placed upon you by a society that knows nothing of the tasks at hand are unrealistic. Yet, time and time again the American soldier smashes the enemies of freedom and protects peace and humanity. Your courage, sacrifice, and honor are unparalleled by any other military force, in any country, at any time. You are the greatest force for good that the world will ever witness. You serve not for the meager pay that is allotted but for the same reason that others before you have served. You, and your brothers and sisters that serve with you, would gladly make the ultimate sacrifice to preserve freedom. You have helped free a proud people from the iron fist of an evil dictator. Your struggles and sacrifices will be celebrated by millions. You are American, you are mighty, and you are loved.
Posted by RobF at 04:35 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
The Shooting Report - 1/29/2005
The weather Saturday afternoon was surprisingly sunny and mild. Temperatures hovered very close to 40 degrees as we made our way to the Greater Pittsburgh Gun Club. They have several open pistol pits and one semi-enclosed pistol range (closed on 3 sides with a roof).
I brought my Springfield 1911 GI .45, my wife’s Springfield XD-9 sub-compact, and my Smith and Wesson model 681 .357. Craig brought along his Mitchell 1911, a Smith and Wesson .45 (not sure of model), his Ruger mark I, and a 22 revolver (I believe it was a Colt).
I’ve read a few forum posts that claim that the Springfield 1911 GI doesn’t feed well but I have not found this to be the case. I’ve shot roughly 400-500 rounds through mine and have not had a problem. I shoot Winchester and the gun performs flawlessly. It should be noted that I did experience problems running cheaper Wolf ammo because it didn’t seem to pack enough punch to rack the slide all the way. Saturday we ran roughly 150 rounds through it without a single misfire or jam using high quality Winchester ammo. Stick to premium ammo and you’ll get premium results. Walmart carries 100 rounds of .45 ACP 230 grain jacketed for $19.97.
The XD-9 has also been very impressive. Everyone that shoots it really likes it despite its tiny size (too small for any of my male friends but just right for my wife’s hands). I don’t think we have experienced any misfires or jams with the XD and we’ve fired roughly 500-600 rounds of Winchester ammunition. The gun is dependable and very accurate. It is an absolute joy to shoot and I’d certainly recommend this gun as a nice alternative to a Glock.
I fired 24-30 rounds through the .357. I enjoy the challenge of shooting this gun and the buck and roar of the .357 round really makes me smile. Even with the lugged four inch barrel, it’s rather punishing, especially after shooting a couple hundred rounds through the semis. This gun is primarily used as a home self-defense weapon so I like to get it out and practice when I have a chance. It is accurate, dependable, and probably makes for the most intimidating looking weapon in my arsenal (perfect for what I use it for).
Of all the weapons that Craig brought along, the one I enjoy shooting the most is his Ruger Mark I. Firing that little pea shooter after playing with .45’s and the .357 is a little strange but the gun is just so accurate and enjoyable to shoot. I’ve got my eye on a Mark II and unless something else catches my fancy, it may be the next gun we add to our collection.
My wife hasn’t come out to shoot with me for a few weeks so that may be the excuse I’m looking for to get back out to the range next weekend. Hopefully the frigid weather will continue to stay away and we can load a couple hundred rounds in the afternoon. I’ll be sure to post a report.
Posted by RobF at 04:18 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
January 29, 2005
Selfishness or Sacrifice
In a FoxNews poll on January 27, only 45% of Americans said that most of the people they know would vote if it required risking their lives to do so. 48% said most would not take the risk.
We have come a long way since March 1775 when Patrick Henry closed his urgent appeal to fellow Virginians to bear arms in self defense with his immortal words, "I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death." No longer are we committed to liberty. Rather, we are committed to licentiousness. Therefore, the sacrifice which Henry was so willing to give in defense of this great country has been replaced by selfishness. It was only 44 years ago that President Kennedy eloquently urged, "Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country." We need to hear, really hear, those words again. Even more, we need to live them.
On the Eve of the first election Iraqis have ever known, it is no wonder that we doubt their success. If we were being asked to do what the Iraqis must do to vote, most of us wouldn't do it. My fellow Americans, if we are going to remain free, we must once again live sacrificial lives, rather than self-centered lives. . That is even more important, if we are going to lead others into freedom.
Posted by TomS at 10:03 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Staged Photo?
Hat tip to Instapundit for this article from The Obsidian Order about a possible staged photo of an exploding car in Iraq. Be sure to read the comments. Very interesting but not very surprising.
Posted by RobF at 08:31 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
January 28, 2005
Bono-fied Jerk
Is anybody else sick of pretending that whatever this guy has to say is even remotely important? There’s nothing worse than an arrogant rock star that somehow thinks his ability to moan into a microphone qualifies him for humanitarian decision making. Someone should tell Mr. Bono that if it weren’t for the dirty American capitalist pigs he’d probably still be in Ireland dirt poor and doing something mundane for a living, most likely involving sheep. Forget the political commentary and do what all the likeable rock stars do. Mainly sing, get drunk, sing, get famous, sing, get high, sing, puke, sing, choke, die…
Posted by RobF at 04:15 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Kennedy, Capitalism, and Choice
As a Senator who is looked upon as a leader and spokesperson for the Democratic Party, Ted Kennedy’s behavior over the last couple of months shows just how far Democrats are straying to the lunatic left.
To come out and claim that the U.S. Military is part of the problem and not the solution in Iraq on the days leading up to election is irresponsible and traitorous. Every parent and spouse who has a loved one serving in Iraq should be calling for Kennedy’s head on a platter. His encouragement of the anti-war movement and his efforts to convince the American people of impending failure in Iraq gives credence to the evil actions of the insurgents and places more American servicemen in danger. He is a disgrace to his state and a disgrace to his country. His irresponsible caterwauling serves only to encourage those who our troops are struggling to defend themselves and the Iraqi people against. By calling for a troop withdrawal, Senator Kennedy sends a message that some in positions of leadership in the U.S. are willing to submit to the pressures of terrorism. The American people must not tolerate defeatism in these dark days.
It is beyond my understanding how such a baseless, spineless, and despicable individual can be serving his seventh term as a United States Senator. The people of Massachusetts should be held responsible for this washed up buffoon disgracing the face of American politics for more than forty years. He shows again and again that his ideas and policies differ vastly from the mainstream and the Massachusetts voters must be held accountable for repeatedly foisting this jackass on the American people in front of the rest of the world.
In 2003 Massachusetts attracted 25.7 million domestic travelers. I will not be spending one dime in Massachusetts as long as the people of that state continue to hold this obstructionist as a representative. I would encourage others to spend their travel dollars elsewhere. Stay away from Massachusetts. I’d be willing to bet that French wineries can attest to the power of an American boycott. They are now saying they need to boil down hundreds of millions of bottles of wine into industrial alcohol to restore the balance of supply and demand. I say it’s time for conservatives to boycott Boston, Martha’s Vineyard, and Nantucket Island in the name of responsible representation. Ted Kennedy has made a mockery of our system of government and voicing our distaste for his actions does not seem to discourage the Massachusetts voters from going to the polls for him. We should hit them in their livelihood and send a clear message of solidarity in the face of anti-American politics. Ted Kennedy must go.
UPDATE: Less vitriol, more sarcasm over at Iowahawk.
Posted by RobF at 01:51 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
January 27, 2005
Un-be-lievable
“My trouble took the strangest form. I could not persuade myself that the men and women I met were not also another Beast People, animals half wrought into the outward image of human souls, and that they would presently begin to revert, - to show first this bestial mark and then that. But I have confided my case to a strangely able man, - a man who had known Moreau, and seemed half to credit my story; a mental specialist, - and he has helped me mightily, though I do not expect that the terror of that island will ever altogether leave me. At most times it lies far in the back of my mind, a mere distant cloud, a memory, and a faint distrust; but there are times when the little cloud spreads until it obscures the whole sky. Then I look about me at my fellow-men; and I go in fear.”-The Island of Dr. Moreau by H.G. Wells
Posted by RobF at 12:45 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Protection in God's Safest Place
This really choked me up. Hat tip to Donna for this Dawn Patrol piece on a mortuary worker in Boulder, Colorado who has been secretly bringing the remains of stillborn, miscarried, and aborted BABIES to a Roman Catholic Church for a ceremony and proper burial. The abortionist who has been supplying the BABIES is now claiming that the mortuary worker and the church are exploiting the parent's private grief for a political cause. Read the news story here.
I find the idea of privately and respectfully laying these BABIES to rest incredibly touching. As a society that allows the wholesale murder of millions of human BABIES under the guise of a medical procedure, I think the least we, as dissenters, can do is give these mutilated BABIES a proper burial.
The abortionists cannot have it both ways. If they claim that these BABIES are blobs of cells with no human rights, what difference does it make what we do with them after they've been vacuumed out of the womb? I haven’t heard anyone argue that using fetuses for stem cell research was exploiting parents’ private grief for a political cause. If these BABIES are human beings with rights, then the abortionists have been making their living murdering unborn human beings all along.
Like most liberals, pro-abortionists find themselves perched precariously on a razor edge. Every once in awhile someone comes along and pushes from one side or the other and the abortionists have to be incredibly careful about what they say to defend their position lest they topple off the edge of credibility. If they say that the aborted BABIES are just blobs of cells with no rights, then they are basically allowing activists who get their hands on the remains free passage to do whatever they see fit. Giving them a proper burial humanizes the situation and pushes the monsters off one side of the razor. To say that the BABIES carry some type of legal weight comes dangerously close to giving them human rights and the monster falls off the other side of the razor.
Liberals find themselves in the ridiculous position of trying to defend the credibility of abortionists claiming that a human being is not a human being. I say that a cell is a cell is a fetus is a baby is a human being who has been endowed by the almighty with certain unalienable rights, one of which is certainly protection in the place that God himself designed to be the safest possible place for a baby to be. Murder is just murder.
Posted by RobF at 08:54 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
January 26, 2005
Just a Little Bit Dog
Dogs are a huge responsibility, they demand, and then they demand more. They have to be fed at the same times every day, and they need to be taken outside to do their business. They worship their people, so they need to always be near, in the kitchen, under your feet, in the bathroom, in bed. They want to play and they like to go for walks. They look at you sad when you leave them alone. A dog, no matter how you spin it, is work, lots and lots of hard work.
So why have dogs?
Of all the animals that humans have come in contact with, none of them are as nearly human as the canine. Kobi tries to stop but she just can’t help herself. She reaches up and nabs me with that tongue, in the ear, up the nose, right on the kisser. She just bubbles over with love and she can’t keep that inside. She was made to be a momma, and she’ll be taking care of me, whether I need it or not. Murphy is our smiling boy. I’ve never seen a creature so happy to just be alive. He’ll set that ball down at your feet and look up. His whole head splits from ear to ear and I don’t care what anyone says, that’s a smile on his face. When you reach down and pick it up he is riveted, focused on that ball with all of his intensity until you toss it. Welcome to Murphy’s world. Ben lives to be loved. He adores his people and would spend every minute of every day with his head in your lap. He doesn’t just want to sit next to you, or sit against you. Ben would crawl right inside you if he could. He’s big, he’s soft, and he has lots of love to give. Rosie is the mystery girl. We don’t know where she first came from, what she has been through, or even how old she is exactly. She puzzles me daily but there is one thing that I have learned about her that I am absolutely sure of. She knows that she is home. When I first get out of bed in the morning she jumps up and gets so excited that she sometimes jumps right up in the air with no regard to landing on her feet. She dances… Rosie has no voice to tell me where she’s been or how old she is but she has a thousand clear ways to tell me she loves me. She never misses an opportunity.
Humans gravitate toward dogs because dogs come so close to being human. Yet, to me, the fascinating thing about our friends is the side we don’t always see. Hiding a bone in the cushions and burying it with a blanket to keep it safe. Using their nose to find that toy because it’s hiding somewhere out of site. Warning the pack if an intruder has dared come too close to the den. A dog cannot lie about who he is, or what he wants to do. A dog is purity, noble and honest. Behind all of the learned behavior, all of the tricks he has learned to get us to do what he wants, behind the laminate of human-like behavior, they are always just a little bit dog. I love that, and so I have dogs.
Posted by RobF at 01:30 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
Feeling a Little Bitter Ted?
Holy heck... Apparently not having a communist traitor piece of tail to snuggle up to over the long cold winter months is taking its toll on old Teddy. Then again, maybe the old man is just not getting his fiber. Ted, I'd suggest a nice bowl of Meuslix.
Update: Reading back over this, I cringed a little bit when I noticed that I used the words "piece of tail" to describe Mr. Turner's ex-wife. I just wanted to mention that I don't condone calling women "pieces of tail". That is unless they happen to be a useless Hollywood flunky whose biggest notable accomplishment (other than playing pretend for a living) is bringing aid and comfort to our enemy in a time of war and being Ted Turner's personal "piece of tail".
That is all.
Posted by RobF at 09:40 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
January 25, 2005
And the Nominees Are...
I can’t say that I ever had any respect for the academy but if I did, it would be reaffirmed. (*)
“Michael Moore's gamble to hold his hit film "Fahrenheit 9/11" out of the documentary category - to boost its best-picture prospects - backfired. The movie was shut out across the board.”
I suppose the best thing about Michael Moore not getting any nominations is that I don’t have to follow through with any kind of personal statement by not going to see any movies for a long time. As much as I loathe the loony Hollywood elitists, I still enjoy watching *some* movies.
It’s starting to become a toss-up as to which award is the biggest farce, the Academy, or the Nobel.
The Academy Awards show is unwatchable and, I swear to God, if I have to accidentally see one more clip of Julia Roberts (reptile girl) blubbering and babbling like a gawky lunatic I’ll go postal. Besides, I’ve never seen, nor will I ever see half of the movies the academy falls all over itself to promote anyway.
The Nobel panders to ex-presidents who spend their days kissing Palestinian leaders who unabashedly fund and support the wholesale murder of Jews.
So there you have it, Michael Moore, Jimmy Carter, Julia Roberts, and Yasser Arafat all in one post. Maybe I deserve a Pulitzer?
Posted by RobF at 12:25 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
A Decision I'd Rather Not Make
I’m decisive on just about every issue that comes along. My values are almost entirely conservative on every single issue. I’m certainly against abortion and I believe that we should cherish human life above all. However the Terri Schiavo case has me somewhat bewildered. I honestly can’t say that I completely agree with either side.
We were in bed last night, watching Fox News and they were talking about the case. I was discussing the situation with my significant other and it just reaffirmed the fact that I just can’t position myself firmly on this issue. I certainly understand why Jeb Bush is fighting to keep that woman alive, especially since her parents are fighting to do the same. It is the noble position to take. However, my wife asked me if I would want to be kept alive if I were in a vegetative state for fifteen years and my answer was unequivocally, no. Not only would I not want to be trapped but, at some point, I would want some closure for the ones I love most. I can’t stand the thought of my wife having to live with my unresponsive condition for all that time while not being able to completely let go of the hope that I might one day wake up. If the shoe were on the other foot, it would crush me to have to witness an empty shell of my love slowly waste away over the years.
When it comes right down to it, if I was the one in the hospital bed, I’d hope that my wife would be able to do what I know I could not do if it was my wife who was injured. What a horrible situation for both parties. If during the course of everyday life, I asked my wife to not keep me alive should I ever be vegetative, I certainly would understand if she couldn’t make that call if/when the occasion arose. I know that I would have an incredibly difficult time telling a doctor to let her die, even if that was what she whispered to me one night in front of Fox News. I most certainly could not go against her parents’ wishes of keeping her alive.
So, in retrospect, I think that I disagree with Schiavo’s husband on the basis that he is going against her parents’ wishes (which is certainly unpleasant). Also, I don’t know how relevant it is to say that someone said that they wanted to die when they were in full health. How in the world could any of us possibly make that call while healthy? Better yet, how could you expect your husband/wife to pull the plug?
Technology has definitely created a terribly difficult situation. I lean toward never allowing anyone to let someone die, however it would be hypocritical for me to say that that is absolutely the way it should be for everyone because I wouldn’t want my loved ones to suffer if they had to watch me vegetate for fifteen years. There are no winners and the best we can hope for is that we’re never faced with the problem.
Update: I cooked all over my most often travelled parts of the blogosphere and found little mention of this. Ace had something to say, but everyone else is pretty quiet...
Posted by RobF at 11:23 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
January 21, 2005
It's Friday
That last post was kind of negative wasn't it? Perhaps I need to lighten things up around this place.
Let's see, what can I do?
Ah-ha, I know, how about some...
PUPPIES!!!
That's better. Now, where were we?
Posted by RobF at 01:33 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
How I Hate the Heathen Left (Part I)
This will have to be a regular feature on C&L. Whenever I’m sick to death of attempting to wrap my brain around the illogical arguments and dirty tactics of those damn democrats, I’ll just spew hate. That’s what conservatives are supposed to do right? Don’t let the heathen left tell you that hate is always bad. Go ahead, take a bite. Mmmmm, HATE. Go on, have another.
I hate how they look down their nose at you because they think they’re right and you’re just not smart enough to understand the concept.
I hate their idea that what is best for everyone isn’t necessarily what’s best for them - double standards.
I hate that they think everyone who doesn’t agree with their ideology is an extremist.
I hate how they fight for the right to murder millions of unborn children in the name of “choice”.
I hate their refusal to accept that force is sometimes necessary in the real world unless a Democratic President gave the consent to use said force.
I hate their plan to redistribute wealth to those who have done nothing to earn that wealth.
I hate their tendency to discriminate on the basis of race.
I hate their vendetta against the teachings of Jesus Christ and those who worship him and choose to live by his principles.
I hate their efforts to remove the concept, “self accountability” from our society.
I hate their animosity toward the very country that gives them the freedom to act out.
I hate their efforts to construct situations that do not exist for political gain.
I hate their efforts to deconstruct the sanctity of marriage.
I hate their refusal to accept defeat.
I hate how they use the public education system to pawn their agenda off on unsuspecting innocent children without their parent’s consent.
I hate how a Democrat’s free speech is a constitutional right while a Republican’s free speech is an assault on their sensitivities.
I hate that they want to take away my right to keep and bear arms.
I hate that they think that the life of an endangered animal is more important than the life of a human being.
Posted by RobF at 01:17 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
January 20, 2005
Four More Years
"My most solemn duty is to protect this nation and its people against further attacks and emerging threats. Some have unwisely chosen to test America's resolve, and have found it firm."
-President George W. Bush, January 20, 2005
Posted by RobF at 05:02 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Alternate Reality
Is it me or does Pelosi always have this vacuous, shocked look on her face? It's like someone has just done something disgusting and she's afraid that if she looks right at the camera, she might see the people at home doing the same thing. Maybe she’s come to realize that everything she says and represents is looked upon by her peers as some kind of joke or diversion. Then again, maybe she just woke up one day and realized that, despite the fact her tomfoolery dupes her constituents into voting for her, despite the fact the liberal mainstream media fawns over her ridiculous statements, despite her position as a U.S. Congresswoman, she is, well... Just average. For someone like Pelosi, having to live with knowing, deep down inside, you're just a prattling nonsensical average moron with no real talent other than the ability to pretend, is probably more than a little unnerving.
So she does something like this…
"Pelosi used the inaugural as a fund-raising tool. Early Thursday she released a statement saying that 'personally, I don't feel much like celebrating. So I'm going to mark the occasion by pledging to do everything in my power to fight the extremist Republican's destructive agenda.'In an e-mail to Democratic supporters, she called for donations to the Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee, to 'tell President Bush that party time is over.'"
All the while, glancing around with that strange, darting, vacant look.
Posted by RobF at 12:00 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Shameless Fawning
Michelle Malkin really nails this one. I wish I could say something this tasty (and oh so true) in a hundred words or less. The picture is also priceless...
Posted by RobF at 10:27 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Pretty Much Nails It
Via Cox & Forkum
Posted by RobF at 09:45 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Barbara "Boohoo" Boxer
It's not like this woman (and I use that term somewhat litely) didn't make my skin crawl before her recent temper tantrums, but over the past few weeks she has made watching the evening news akin to watching an episode of the Jerry Springer show. Her antics (and that's exactly what they are) serve no real purpose except to drag out the same stale issues that were rejected by the American people during the presidential election. Johnny Saigon being the only other fruitcake on the commission to vote no with Boohoo speaks volumes.
Hat tip to Ace on this update, apparently Boohoo enthusiastically supported President Clinton's decision to attack Iraq because Saddam Hussein threatened to use WMDs against the world.
"The California Democrat insisted that the Iraq war 'was based on what everyone now says, including your own administration, were falsehoods about WMDs, weapons of mass destruction.'In December 1998, however, after Clinton launched four days of air strikes on Iraq's suspected WMD targets, the California Democrat had a different reaction.
In quotes unearthed Tuesday afternoon by radio host Sean Hannity, Boxer claimed that Saddam had forced Clinton's hand.
'The president had no choice but to act today,' she said in a statement issued by her office. 'Anyone who questions the timing of his decision ignores the fact that we committed a month ago to act if [chief U.N. weapons inspector] Richard Butler reported that Saddam was not cooperating.'
'These critics are blinded by political considerations,' Boxer added."
Read the NewsMax article here.
Posted by RobF at 09:15 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
January 19, 2005
Gangster Thug Killed by Police
Michelle Malkin cuts through the propaganda from the leftist media, anti-war groups, and Latino activists to discuss the actual facts behind the life and death of Andres Raya. This was the U.S. Marine who died in a liquor store shootout with police. It was reported by several news agencies that Raya was traumatized from his experiences in Iraq and was committing suicide to avoid being sent back.
"But contrary to the impression left by initial media reports, Raya had never seen combat. And he was not headed back to Iraq. He had been transferred to a new unit scheduled for deployment to Okinawa. 'During our investigation, we found he wasn't due to go back to Iraq, never faced combat situations and never even fired his gun,' Stanislaus County Sheriff's Deputy Jason Woodman said.Raya was high on cocaine at the time of the ambush, according to police reports. He was reportedly affiliated with the prison gang Nuestra Familia. Investigators found photos of Raya wearing gang colors and a shopping list in his bedroom safe that included body armor, assault rifles and ammunition. Authorities also discovered a video showing Raya smoking what appears to be marijuana and making gang sign gestures. The tape showed desecrated pieces of the American flag laid on a gymnasium floor to spell out expletives directed at President Bush.
Family members deny Raya's gang ties and blame the military. Meanwhile, Raya's neighborhood was decorated with anti-cop graffiti such as 'Kill the Pigs' in his memory. And militant Hispanic residents celebrate Raya. Ceres resident Hilda Mercado told The New York Times that Raya 'died like a true Mexican: He died standing on his feet.'"
I'm not sure how to comment on this. This is just maddening. Does anyone else see how dangerously close our media has been coming lately to portraying our servicemen as violent or immoral? It's only a matter of time until the hippies are spitting on "baby killers" when they get off airplanes. Remember the new lefist sacred mantra folks, "we're against the war but we support the troops". But for how long?
Read the whole article here.
Posted by RobF at 12:23 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
He Has a Point
Hat tip to Beth, this made me giggle like a school girl... er, I mean chuckle. Then I pounded my fist on the desk, spilling my ice water... I mean scotch. Yeah, Dewars on the rocks. Then I scratched my private parts and broke wind. I did not giggle like a school girl. Seriously.
Posted by RobF at 11:10 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
January 18, 2005
Secretary of State, Dr. Condoleezza Rice
Although I’m sure the dems would be hard pressed to find anyone half as qualified as Dr. Rice to serve as Secretary of State, she still had to endure the needling of such eggheads as Kerry, Feingold, Biden, and Boxer this afternoon. I suppose it was to be expected. The looney left hates Condi Rice because she proves that minorities do not need government programs to succeed. She exposes their great society as a socialist scheme to make more people dependant on the government tit.
Liberalism is self-perpetuating. Libs use their position to create more programs that require tax dollars to pay people to run them which in turn means more liberal positions bent on creating more programs that need more tax dollars so they can pay more people to run them which creates...
In my opinion, there are three kinds of liberals. There are those who have bleeding hearts and think they are doing the right thing when in reality they don't have enough fore-site to see past the nose on their face. There are those who are tricked into believing that one can improve ones lifestyle and social status by depending on government. Then there are those in charge (that are interested in perpetuating the disease). These are the most foul of the bunch. As a successful self-made African American woman, Dr. Rice flies in the face of all that the Kool-aid drinkers hold sacred. She proves that government programs, welfare, and affirmative action are a cop out. Hard work, education, and self-accountability are what made this poor granddaughter of a cotton farmer one of the most powerful and influential women in modern times.
When the first rumors of the impending nightmare of Hillary in ’08 began to circulate (when it became obvious that Kerry was a phony) I thought that the only way the Republicans had a chance was if Dr. Rice ran for President. Over the next four years, expect an assault on Dr. Rice’s character by the Clinton political machine. It has already taken the form of racist political cartoons and the portrayal of Condi as an Uncle Tom. Hillary won’t stand a chance unless she can secure the black vote. If Dr. Rice runs in ’08, Hillary will attempt to portray her as a traitor to black Americans.
So while black America suffers with sky high prison populations, illegitimate children, AIDS, and black on black crime, the self-proclaimed compassionate party that represents and supports black America will be the ones trying to destroy the greatest example of minority values and leadership in a long, long time. You’ll see the so-called black leaders of today voicing the same sentiment. People like Dr. Rice are called Uncle Toms because they prove that modern civil rights leaders exist only to stir the pot of resentment and self-perpetuate their own cause.
Look out Condi, you're intelligent, talented, credible, accountable, and in their way.
Update: Apparently Hutch over at The Hillary Project is predicting that Hillary will vote against Dr. Rice's confirmation. I guess that would be a start.
Posted by RobF at 03:40 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
January 17, 2005
Conscience of the State
"The church must be reminded that it is not the master or the servant of the state, but rather the conscience of the state. It must be the guide and the critic of the state, and never its tool. If the church does not recapture its prophetic zeal, it will become an irrelevant social club without moral or spiritual authority."
-Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
Posted by RobF at 04:50 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Professional Warriors DO NOT ESTABLISH EXIT STRATEGIES
Blackfive has this letter from Lieutenant Colonel Mark Smith, Commander of the Mad Ghosts, the 2/24th Battalion (USMC Reserve - Chicago, Illinois) in Iraq.
I couldn't possibly write anything that comes close to carrying the weight or being so on target. READ THIS, forward this, be encouraged by these heroic words.
Posted by RobF at 04:01 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Contact Information
Happy Day!
I have received the contact information for my soldier through Soldiers' Angels. He has an email address so I will send him an email today. I'd encourage anyone who happens to be reading this to look into this group. Because it has grown so fast it's a little disorganized but everyone involved is very friendly, enthusiastic, and helpful.
I'll be posting updates!
Posted by RobF at 02:46 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Count Me Clueless
First there was this, now of course, there is this…
Please don't mistake this for an admission that the tinfoil hat wearing, moonbats that conceived of the “Count Me Blue” bracelets (and the other equally doltish knockoffs) were actually making a valid point. I just found the whole situation rather laughable. Those of us who avoid natural food outlets, free art exhibits, National Public Radio, and bong stores deserve to know who our enemies are. So, if you’re one of the exceptionally slow witted kooks having trouble accepting reality, do me a favor and roll up your sleeves to proudly display your “visible reminder”. Some of you hippies actually bathe now so we can’t always smell you coming.
Posted by RobF at 01:54 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Murderous Islamic Swine
The religion of peace is alive and well in Jersey City, New Jersey.
Monday, January 17, 2005 Associated Press JERSEY CITY, N.J. — A funeral procession for two parents and their two daughters found brutally slain in their home last week drew hundreds of mourners Monday and some in the crowd blamed the deaths on simmering religious tensions in the family's native Egypt. Services for 47-year-old Hossam Armanious, his 37-year-old wife, Amal Garas, and their two daughters were being held at the St. George & St. Shenouda Coptic Orthodox Church, a Christian congregation where the family was active.As the procession of about 300 people made its way on foot through city streets to the church, Iman Garas, sister of the slain mother, ran up and pounded on each of the four caskets, screaming, "Oh my God. Oh my God. They've left me all alone."
The family immigrated to the United States in 1997 from Egypt, where Coptic Christians generally live in peace with Muslims. But tensions between the religions there have flared and become violent in recent years.
After revelations over the weekend that Hossam Armanious was active on an Internet chat site devoted to Coptic Christianity, Monir Dowoud, president of the American Coptic Association, told 200 people outside the family's church on Sunday that "Muslim terrorists" were responsible.
Local authorities downplayed the religious link and the regional head of the Coptic church cautioned against a rush to judgment. But friends of the slain family said Hossam Armanious received death threats two months ago after writing what were perceived as insults to Islam.
How long before the leftist media blames America for this atrocity?
Posted by RobF at 12:55 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
January 16, 2005
Color Commentary
Let me temper the following rant with the admission that the Cocked and Locked home base is located in a suburb of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. While I’ve enjoyed a life long love affair with a certain storied franchise from Dallas Texas, I have found it easy to become swept up in the black and gold frenzy that sweeps this area during the fall. My in-laws were all born and raised here and Pittsburgh is, as they claim, a drinking town with a football problem.
So it goes without saying that yesterday afternoon found us all in my living room, cold drinks and food everywhere, all eyes glued to the television, and decked out in our black and gold regalia. We were not disappointed, the home team prevailed, in truly exciting fashion. So this rant has nothing to do with the final outcome or the officiating or the quality of play. As is often the case when the Steelers game is being televised on CBS, we were doomed to endure the clichéd commentary of one, Dan Dierdorf. As soon as I caught the first glimpse of his ugly mug on the screen I lobbied to play the local radio broadcast and turn the volume down on the television. So for the first half of the game we listened to the deranged and somewhat intoxicated (I’m sure) commentary of our all too familiar local yokels Bill Hillgrove, Myron Cope, and Tunch Ilken. Broadcasting for a Pittsburgh radio station affords these guys the luxury of unabashedly supporting the home team. They cheer for the Pittsburgh players, speak with Pittsburgh accents and are paid by local Pittsburgh sponsors. Unfortunately, the radio broadcast is about three seconds ahead of the television broadcast which does detract from the viewing experience. While the ball is in the air on television, Hillgrove is already screaming about an interception. If I was watching the game alone, I probably would have dealt with the situation and pretended that I was gifted with just a touch of psychic ability. Unfortunately, it seemed to bother some of the other “Picksberg Stiller” fans gathered for the celebration so the second half found us suffering through the inane ramblings of my favorite color commentator.
Now I’ll be honest, I certainly haven’t done any research into the life and past of Dierdorf. I’m pretty sure he played his entire career with the (then) St. Louis Cardinals meaning that he suffered through some pretty dismal years on some rather pathetic teams. I believe it is exactly this fact that motivates this gas bag to gush over the underdog team week after week. This is especially true if the other team happens to be a franchise with a successful history like the Cowboys, the Steelers, the 49ers, or the Raiders. I swear to God, I would not have been surprised if, when CBS panned to the broadcasting booth, Dan Dierdorf was standing there in a Jets jersey and green wig chanting “J-E-T-S JETS JETS JETS!!!” He may as well have gone out on the field and stuck his tongue right down the back of every New York player’s knickers.
I understand that, before they were commentators, before they were players, these guys were sports fans just like me and every other yahoo that was screaming at the television and getting all frenzied in front of the overtime spectacle yesterday evening. However, Dan Dierdorf collects a paycheck from CBS and should therefore be obligated to broadcast an unbiased version of the unfolding events. He constantly praises the underdog team and, if the favored team performs well, acts as if it was the expected outcome and is therefore undeserving of mention.
ABC did the right thing a few years back by dropping him from the Monday Night Football broadcast and I couldn’t have been happier. Now, because the Steelers games are broadcast predominately on CBS, I’m stuck listening to this idiot use the same worn out expressions and struggle with his bitterness over the successful franchises that were so good at kicking his fanny all over the field during his playing days. Mr. Dierdorf belongs on a local radio broadcast not a supposedly impartial national television broadcasting network famous for keeping such level headed, benevolent, nonpartisan talking heads as Dan Rather on their payroll (that was harder for me to write than it was for you to read, believe me).
Posted by RobF at 09:23 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
January 14, 2005
Target of the Month - January 2005
Without further ado, I give you Michael Newdow, our target of the month for January 2005.
His latest endeavor:
"Michael Newdow, an atheist doctor and lawyer from Sacramento, has filed a complaint and a motion for preliminary injunction in U.S. District Court for the District of Columbia, seeking to remove prayer and all "Christian religious acts" from the Jan. 20 inauguration. Mr. Newdow, 50, asserts that the presence of Christian ministers who pray publicly at the inauguration, Christian songs and the swearing of the oath of office while a president places a hand on the Bible violates the establishment clause of the First Amendment"
While I could go off on a tirade about the absence of any clear statement concerning the separation of church and state in The Constitution, I'll refrain. All decent human beings see this guy for what he really is, an annoying prick with a law degree and a vendetta against Christianity. If this case drew a judge with a set of balls, he would tell Mr. Newdow to shut up, sit down, and get over himself. Quickly.
Target of the Month Disclaimer: I am not encouraging or condoning violence toward any of the individuals mentioned (or any other individual for that matter). This category is meant strictly as a joke, and to provide free pistol targets to my readers.
Posted by RobF at 11:46 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Those With Loaded Guns
"You see, in this world there's two kinds of people, my friend: Those with loaded guns and those who dig"
Hat tip to Mary at Exit Zero for one of the tastiest things I have read in awhile.
I had to clean the coffee off my monitor...
Posted by RobF at 09:26 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
Comments
Okay, so I'm a bonehead...
Sombody informed me (finally) that the comments section wasn't working. My stats show a bunch of visitors, I just thought none of you had anything to say (except the spammers).
My typekey registration should be working now, feel free to comment away (you'll need a typekey registration).
Posted by RobF at 09:03 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
January 13, 2005
Women and Non-lethal Guns
Hat tip to Aaron at Free Will for this Mass Backwards commentary on the gun designed for "women only".
"What he found is they wanted something with multiple safety features, easy to use, and non-lethal. His gun uses rubber and pepper projectiles and has a maximum effective range of 36 feet. He said women liked the idea of having something just for them".
My wife's Springfield XD has multiple safety features. Maximum effective range shouldn't even be part of the equation. If your attacker is 36 feet away, you can run. If running isn't an option, you better have something lethal.
"The biggest thing women were telling me was when they try to shoot their husbands' pistols or revolvers is they kick and hurt their hand, and they're intimidated," said Camp.
Funny, my wife never complains when she's shooting my pistol (That sounds good for so many reasons and yes, they're all true). Seriously, she fires my 1911 micro all the time and her only complaint is that it only holds 6 rounds.
"If you run out of ammo, just turn it around and hit the attacker"
Or skip the first two steps and just turn around and kiss your own... Well you get the idea.
Posted by RobF at 05:02 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Joshua was just an Embryo
I'll bet you don't see this ad in the NYT.
Poignant... But the MSM doesn't have an agenda. Noooooo, you read and hear these facts every time someone brings up stem cell research, right?
Posted by RobF at 02:13 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
January 12, 2005
Exodus 15:3
The LORD is a man of war: the LORD is his name.
Posted by RobF at 08:40 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Soldiers' Angels
Hat tip to FFAB (or whatever you will be calling yourself in the future).
My younger brother served five years as a United States Marine, he was in the initial invasion of Iraq. We sent him packages while he was overseas and he told us how much he, and his fellow Marines, enjoyed them. He's now home safe and sound, a hero.
Soldiers' Angels gives you the address of a serviceman overseas and you send care packages. I think it's the least we can do.
I'll ask them if they mind me posting letters on Cocked and Locked so I can keep you all up to date.
Posted by RobF at 07:53 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
January 11, 2005
Bush Lied Canines Died
I thought I would do my (tiny) part in getting the word out on this situation (Hat tip to Beth at My Vast Right Wing Conspiracy).
Apparently there have been several newspapers and websites claiming that U.S. Military dogs were short on food and water and were starving and eating scraps. The dogs that needed supplies were Iraqi police dogs. The U.S. Military dogs had plenty of food, water, and treats.
Hills Science Diet donated food to the cause and the problem has been solved. Donations are no longer being taken.
Four legged friends are always better than two:
Posted by RobF at 07:27 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
January 10, 2005
"We Have 12 of Them"
File this under "Things I wish I said"...
See, this is why George Bush is so dumb, theres a disaster in the world and he sends an Aircraft Carrier... After which he and many of my Euro collegues laughed out loud. and then they looked at me. I wasn't laughing, and neither was my Hindi friend sitting next to me, who has lost family in the disaster.I'm afraid I was 'unprofessional', I let it loose -
Hmmm, let's see, what would be the ideal ship to send to a disaster, now what kind of ship would we want?
Something with its own inexhuastible power supply?
Something that can produce 900,000 gallons of fresh water a day from sea water?
Something with its own airfield? So that after producing the fresh water, it could help distribute it?
Something with 4 hospitals and lots of open space for emergency supplies?
Something with a global communications facility to make the coordination of disaster relief in the region easier?
Well 'Franz', us peasants in America call that kind of ship an 'Aircraft Carrier'. We have 12 of them. How many do you have? Oh that's right, NONE. Lucky for you and the rest of the world, we are the kind of people who share. Even with people we dont like. In fact, if memory serves,once upon a time we peasants spent a ton of money and lives rescuing people who we had once tried to kill and who tried to kill us.
That's tasty... So Tasty...
Posted by RobF at 08:16 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
January 08, 2005
Kennedy Dead at 86
Before you get all giddy, uncork the champagne and invite all your friends, it was this Kennedy.
"Rosemary was a lifelong jewel to every member of our family," the family statement said. "From her earliest years, her mental retardation was a continuing inspiration to each of us and a powerful source of our family's commitment to do all we can to help all persons with disabilities live full and productive lives."
Commitment to helping other people?
I wonder if there were any other Kennedy's with "aggressive impulses"? This could explain a great deal...
Posted by RobF at 08:15 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Fresh Coulterage
Hat tip to Rog, on this Newsmax article featuring the always tight lipped and soft-spoken Ann Coulter.
Is there anything in the world that makes liberals squirm more than a six foot blonde conservative with a razor tongue and an acute sense of humor? Well yeah, there's always that "Constitution" thingy...
Posted by RobF at 07:43 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
January 07, 2005
Lipstick in the Lamplight
Ray was a dead man. He jumped down from the fire escape, and started up the alleyway toward the street. He was no stranger to desperation, as he had been in the exact same situation before. Bones was obviously in the hole with somebody else. Maybe that guy was in the hole too. Probably was… All Ray knew was that he owed Bones a lot of money and there was a sore spot in his ribs from the barrel of the gun. He saw splotches of maroon blossoming on his t-shirt. He’d jack a couple of cars, drive them upstate and sell them. He had tried to reason with Bones, he told him to relax and that got him a lump on his head to go with the bruised ribs.
He buried his hands in the pockets of his jacket, his right hand found the cold metal butt of the revolver Bones had let him take. It didn’t have any grips, just an empty frame with no cylinder. He gripped the front of his jacket with his free hand and pressed the barrel of the busted revolver against the material until it tore through the pocket and out the front of the jacket. That would do just fine.
Ray made his way up the street past barred windows and empty storefronts. His stomach roiled and flopped over in knots, and the sweat stood out on his forehead despite the chilly November air. With the exception of the occasional drunk in an alley and crack house above an empty shop, the street was deserted. As he headed west toward the warehouse district, the setting sun blazed in his eyes and made his head pound. He passed an Asian market and the store owner glared at him as he pulled the metal grate down over his storefront. He walked another two blocks and turned into a familiar foul smelling alcove. He jammed his hand into the pocket of his dirty jeans and produced a ring with a half dozen keys. He fumbled for the right one, and began to fish around in the keyhole. After a short struggle he heard a satisfying click and he tugged the door open and stepped inside. Orange light shone through the two remaining glazed over windows in the store front. It created a sickly yellow pall on the heaps of broken shelves and rubble inside. Ray kicked a mattress out of the way and the smell of stale piss and filth wafted up at him. He pulled a broken wooden stool to the corner of one of the plywood covered windows, sat down and began to wait. He shuddered and fought the urge to puke as goose bumps rose on his arms.
The warehouse district had ceased to be a viable center for commerce long ago and the only businesses that still existed there were nightclubs and bars that took advantage of the cheap space and lack of restrictions. Ray sat in his spot on Fifth Avenue, the razor edge between ghetto wasteland and the warehouse district. He peered out through a gap between the plywood and the window frame and across the street at the ATM machine. He fought the symptoms of his addiction and he waited.
When he awoke, he could hear the hum of a distant streetlight and the deserted room was filled with dark masses and crazy shadows. In the far back corner he heard the squeaking and scurrying of a rat but his focus was on the sound of a car idling outside. He jammed his eye to the gap in the plywood and peered across the street. A silver Mercedes sports car sat silhouetted in the light from the ATM machine. Ray cursed under his breath and stood up off the stool so he could peer as far as he could up and down the street through the crack. Nobody, the street was empty.
The engine died and the interior light came on inside the car as the driver door began to open and it illuminated a woman’s dark hair and red lipstick. A long leg reached out from the driver door and a high heeled shoe clicked down on the pavement. Even in the half light, Ray ogled the flash of cleavage as the other leg followed and the woman rose up out of the sports car, turned, and pushed the door shut. His heart began to rage in his chest and he could taste the adrenaline in his mouth as the corners of his jaw began to ache in anticipation. He moved over to the door and listened to the unmistakable sound of the woman’s shoes as they tapped smartly around the front of the car. As soon as the sound stopped, he opened the door, stepped outside and began to cross the street coolly, without making a sound. The woman was facing the ATM, she was a full six feet in heels and her dark hair poured down over the back of her black leather trench coat. She had what looked to be a flashlight tucked under one arm and he cursed to himself when he heard the jingle of keys in her hand. Having reached the car, he ducked down next to the driver door, reached into his pocket, gripped the revolver, and poked the barrel out of the hole in the front of his jacket. He carefully stole a peak through the car windows and saw the woman’s long red fingernails caress the buttons of the ATM. He was close enough to smell the perfume from where she had gotten out of the car only seconds before. He watched as she grabbed the bills that the machine offered, waited for a receipt, and stuffed them both in an inside pocket of the trench coat. Ray ducked back down as she turned from the machine and the irresistible sound of high heals came closer. He waited until she walked around the front of the car then he stood up and lunged. His left hand closed on a handful of silky black hair and inside his pocket his right hand poked the barrel of the revolver cruelly into the woman’s ribs. “Gimme the keys lady, gimme the money too”… The woman reached back with the flashlight and swung. Inside his head it sounded like a hammer striking an empty wooden bucket. The vision in his left eye exploded in what looked like a shower of sparks as his head rocked back on his shoulders. Ray stumbled backwards with his fingers still tangled in her hair. She was dragged toward him and they both went down in a heap. Ray struggled to remain conscious and lurched back to his feet retaining his grip on the pretty black locks and pulling the woman up with him. Everything on the left side looked broken and leaned at strange angles.
“Let me go”, the woman grunted through gritted teeth. Rage replaced the nervous anxiousness that was in Ray’s belly, he let go of the gun in his pocket, balled up his fist, and let loose with a wild roundhouse punch that connected with the side of the woman’s head. It snapped to the side, her teeth clicked together loudly and the flashlight clacked to the ground and skittered away. She grunted and her bare knees smashed down into the pavement. Ray turned toward the door, wound his fingers deeper in her hair, and began to lurch toward the black gaping hole of the doorway. At first the woman resisted but the pain in her scalp forced her to struggle back to her feet and stumble after her captor. Ray quickened the pace as he expected the woman to scream but, to his surprise, the only noise she made was to curse at him and say, “let me go, I said let me go, I’ll kill you, do you understand me”. He reached the door, let go of her hair, gripped the leather of her jacket with both hands and shoved her through the doorway. The woman stumbled drunkenly on her high heels through the doorway, hit a pile of furniture and went down in a heap. Ray cursed and stammered as he came through the door.
“Shut up bitch, shut up now or I’ll kill you!” He reached down with his left hand and grabbed another handful of hair yanking her back up on her feet. He reached in his pocket with his right hand, pulled out the revolver and swung it toward the woman’s head. She saw it coming in time to put her arm up. The blow glanced off her forearm and she stumbled backward out of his grip and fell sprawling on the dirty mattress on the floor. Her dark hair was in wild disarray and in the dim light Ray could make out red lipstick on lips that were pulled back over teeth in a snarl. In the struggle, the front of her suit jacket was pulled open and he could see her lacey white bra and her heaving breasts. The woman’s long legs lay out in front of her enveloped in dark stockings that were torn and bloody at the knees. Her heavy breathing was the only sound she made.
Ray moved back to the door, closed it and locked the bolt. He rubbed his hand across his eye and the agony in his head intensified. He looked down and saw that his fingers were slick with blood. As he turned back around he saw her pulling her skirt back down over her thighs. “You’re gonna pay now”, he grunted as he lurched across the room tossing the useless revolver to one side where it thumped on the floor. He reached down to tear her bra away and the woman's left hand shot around to grab his wrist. He was surprised by the strength in her grip and as he yanked on the bra strap she held on tightly and he pulled her right up to her feet. They stood momentarily nose to nose and he became aware of a sound in the room. It was a grating sound like granite on granite. The woman stared back at him coolly. Their eyes locked and Ray realized that the prehistoric sound came from his victim. He glanced down and saw teeth gnashing and grinding together between sneering red lips. Suddenly cold steel poked hard into his left temple. Ray fell to his knees and found himself staring at the woman’s middrift. Her black pinstriped business suit was now completely open and the streetlight danced dazzlingly off a diamond stud in her navel and the sweat droplets glistening on her belly. The concussion rocked through the side of Ray’s head. He was aware of the searing heat, and a deafening roar. His head slumped forward and for the last two or three seconds of his life he was dimly aware that his brains were spilling out his mouth and into his lap.
Hands shaking slightly, the woman hiked her skirt up and slid the .45 back in its holster on her thigh. She buttoned her jacket as well as she could, threw the bolt, opened the door, and stepped out into the lamplight.
Posted by RobF at 08:19 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Satellite Tsunami Photos
Hat tip to Ace of Spades HQ, this is really stunning. If you have time, take a long detailed look at this, the devastation is just amazing.
I've seen videos, I've seen *some* satellite photographs, but I think that this is probably the best perspective I have seen.
Posted by RobF at 12:06 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
January 06, 2005
Puddyng of purpaysse
Like so many others the world over, I was mortified by the tsunami and the ensuing devastation and suffering. During all of the coverage since the disaster there was one item that was highlighted by the mainstream media that I thought would go away but it just kept reappearing and now, this news.
People are traumatized, starving, suffering from dehydration, there are rotting corpses of the deceased everywhere, the impending certainty of diseases causing further fatality looms ugly, and local officials, fisherman, and soldiers are spending time and energy rescuing dolphins? At the risk of sounding insensitive, I think that’s utter insanity.
If I were the locals, I think I’d be thinking about something more along these lines. Hey, don’t give me that look. We’ve supposedly been eating them for years in our tuna.
Posted by RobF at 12:12 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Schizophrenics, Gay Porn, Exhibitionism, and Guns
Being new to the blogosphere, I find it next to impossible not to check my web stats a thousand times a day. I’m completely fascinated and encouraged by the number of unique visitors I’ve had from all over the world.
When I first told my wife that I had registered cockedandlocked.net she laughed and said that all my traffic would come from deviants searching for gay porn. This morning I'm refreshing my web stats and something catches my eye. Someone used the Google search phrase “schizophrenics and guns” and landed here in my little cyber-closet of shameless exhibitionism. Something tells me I’m gonna like this hobby.
Posted by RobF at 10:32 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
How the hell do you spell curmudgeonly?
While taking in a wholesome portion of morning blogginess, I came across Curmudgeonly and Skeptical, hat tip to SondraK. I'm not sure how I missed Roger before but I love his attitude and his logo makes me laugh. Have a look around, it's definitely worth your time.
Posted by RobF at 10:17 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
January 05, 2005
The Golden Token of Right of Way-ness
Okay, time to vent about something that turns my screws just about every single day. I’ve noticed that I’ve been picking up readers from all over the globe and I was wondering if this was an issue, not only in other states here in the U.S. but in other countries as well. I realize that there may be some difficulty understanding some of the scenarios I will be explaining below, especially for those of you living in barbarous third world countries that force people to drive on the wrong side of the road. I’m fairly well traveled here in the states but I don’t get behind the wheel out of state often enough to know if the situation explained below is apparent in other locals.
A little light background: I grew up in Central New York State which, while nothing like New York City, still has a hint of New York attitude. This is especially true when it comes to driving. It doesn’t matter how much traffic is on the road, you’re not going to catch a break from a New York driver. Actually, you’re more apt to get cut off, honked at, or yelled at by a New York driver. Having grown up there, that is where I cut my teeth behind the wheel of a car. In my opinion, there were two distinct advantages to learning to drive in Syracuse. First, you drove by the rules, no freelancing (I’ll get to this in a minute). Second with the exception of Buffalo, Syracuse is the most foul, frozen, hellish place on the planet. People living in other cities would need the help of a team of sled dogs to get to work given the lake effect weather in central New York. Not Syracusans, they’ll drive in anything. One has to, or they’d be locked indoors for four months out of the year. So, I learned to drive in snow, sleet, freezing rain, and just about anything else precipitation and cold weather can dish out.
Having relocated to Pennsylvania about 9 years ago, I noticed some strange behavior being exhibited by the natives. Pulling up to an intersection, I would wait for the driver with the right of way to proceed. Instead, I saw the driver motioning from the driver’s seat to myself and other cars at the intersection to go ahead. I was baffled, surely this must be some mental disorder occurring only in that unique individual but no, I kept noticing this strange behavior in other Pennsylvanians. It was as if, after having been handed the invisible token of right of way-ness, the driver was bestowed with the magical power to either send people on their way a little early or put up their hand saying (in their best Ian McKellen voice), “YOU SHALL NOT PASS”. They were simply making up the rules of the road dependant upon what kind of mood they were in at that particular moment.
I’ll bet some of you are thinking that I’m being cantankerous. Surely no harm can come of someone just trying to be courteous on the roadway. That is completely false. There is plenty of harm in this activity. I cannot tell you the number of times I have coasted up to an intersection in which I do not have a stop sign or need to yield and, upon using my left turn signal, I am cut off by a driver pulling out of the roadway that I am attempting to turn on. Drivers have come to expect other drivers to wave them on, regardless if there is no traffic and they are at a stop sign. Another frustrating, if not revolting, situation is if you are the driver stopped at a stop sign, waiting to make a left hand turn and a driver is plodding along perpindicular from right to left and decides they want to make a left hand turn on to the road you are stopped on. Pennsylvania drivers will often put on their brakes (stopping traffic behind them), stop in the middle of the open road and begin to wave you on, regardless if there is oncoming traffic on the other side of the road. I’m perfectly willing to wait my turn in all traffic situations as I’m never sure if the traffic behind that driver will decide to go around them on the right and smash