Lazy blog entry 4

I make no claim to the following piece's authorship, in fact, I don't know who the author is or I would give him much-deserved recognition. But don't let that stop you from reading and enjoying these forty very clever bon mots to the gun control crowd, especially if you are familiar with the disinformation (aka outright lies) they put out. I really enjoy numbers 7, 8, 12, 18, 23, 32, and 34 (you have to be a part of the shooting sports to fully appreciate this one).


40 Reasons Guns Should Be Banned

Recent events show us the need for re-familiarization with the following 40 reasons guns should be banned:

1. Banning guns works, which is why New York, DC, Detroit & Chicago cops need guns.

2. Washington DC's low murder rate of 69 per 100,000 is due to strict gun control, and Indianapolis' high murder rate of 9 per 100,000 is due to the lack of gun control.

3. Statistics showing high murder rates justify gun control but statistics showing increasing murder rates after gun control are "just statistics."

4. The Brady Bill and the Assault Weapons Ban, both of which went into effect in 1994 are responsible for the decrease in violent crime rates, which have been declining since 1991.

5. We must get rid of guns because a deranged lunatic may go on a shooting spree at any time and anyone who would own a gun out of fear of such a lunatic is paranoid.

6. The more helpless you are the safer you are from criminals.

7. An intruder will be incapacitated by tear gas or oven spray, but if shot with a .357 Magnum will get angry and kill you.

8. A woman raped and strangled is morally superior to a woman with a smoking gun and a dead rapist at her feet.

9. When confronted by violent criminals, you should "put up no defense - give them what they want, or run" (Handgun Control Inc. Chairman Pete Shields, Guns Don't Die - People Do, 1981, p. 125).

10. The New England Journal of Medicine is filled with expert advice about guns; just like Guns & Ammo has some excellent treatises on heart surgery.

11. One should consult an automotive engineer for safer seat belts, a civil engineer for a better bridge, a surgeon for internal medicine, a computer programmer for hard drive problems, and Sarah Brady for firearms expertise.

12. The 2nd Amendment, ratified in 1787, refers to the National Guard, which was created 130 years later, in 1917.

13. The National Guard, federally funded, with bases on federal land, using federally-owned weapons, vehicles, buildings and uniforms, punishing trespassers under federal law, is a "state" militia.

14. These phrases: "right of the people peaceably to assemble," "right of the people to be secure in their homes," "enumerations herein of certain rights shall not be construed to disparage others retained by the people," and "The powers not delegated herein are reserved to the states respectively, and to the people" all refer to individuals, but "the right of the people to keep and bear arms" refers to the state.

15. "The Constitution is strong and will never change." But we should ban and seize all guns thereby violating the 2nd, 4th, and 5th Amendments to that Constitution.

16. Rifles and handguns aren't necessary to national defense! Of course, the army has hundreds of thousands of them.

17. Private citizens shouldn't have handguns, because they aren't "military weapons'', but private citizens shouldn't have "assault rifles'', because they are military weapons.

18. In spite of waiting periods, background checks, fingerprinting, government forms, etc., guns today are too readily available, which is responsible for recent school shootings. In the 1940's, 1950's and 1960's, anyone could buy guns at hardware stores, army surplus stores, gas stations, variety stores, Sears mail order, no waiting, no background check, no fingerprints, no government forms and there were no school shootings.

19. The NRA's attempt to run a "don't touch" campaign about kids handling guns is propaganda, but the anti-gun lobby's attempt to run a "don't touch" campaign is responsible social activity.

20. Guns are so complex that special training is necessary to use them properly, and so simple to use that they make murder easy.

21. A handgun, with up to 4 controls, is far too complex for the typical adult to learn to use, as opposed to an automobile that only has 20.

22. Women are just as intelligent and capable as men but a woman with a gun is "an accident waiting to happen" and gun makers' advertisements aimed at women are "preying on their fears."

23. Ordinary people in the presence of guns turn into slaughtering butchers but revert to normal when the weapon is removed.

24. Guns cause violence, which is why there are so many mass killings at gun shows.

25. A majority of the population supports gun control, just like a majority of the population supported owning slaves.

26. Any self-loading small arm can legitimately be considered to be a "weapon of mass destruction" or an "assault weapon."

27. Most people can't be trusted, so we should have laws against guns, which most people will abide by because they can be trusted.

28. The right of Internet pornographers to exist cannot be questioned because it is constitutionally protected by the Bill of Rights, but the use of handguns for self defense is not really protected by the Bill of Rights.

29. Free speech entitles one to own newspapers, transmitters, computers, and typewriters, but self- defense only justifies bare hands.

30. The ACLU is good because it uncompromisingly defends certain parts of the Constitution, and the NRA is bad, because it defends other parts of the Constitution.

31. Charlton Heston, a movie actor as president of the NRA is a cheap lunatic who should be ignored, but Michael Douglas, a movie actor as a representative of Handgun Control, Inc. is an ambassador for peace who is entitled to an audience at the UN arms control summit.

32. Police operate with backup within groups, which is why they need larger capacity pistol magazines than do "civilians" who must face criminals alone and therefore need less ammunition.

33. We should ban "Saturday Night Specials" and other inexpensive guns because it's not fair that poor people have access to guns too.

34. Police officers have some special Jedi-like mastery over handguns that private citizens can never hope to obtain.

35. Private citizens don't need a gun for self- protection because the police are there to protect them even though the Supreme Court says the police are not responsible for their protection.

36. Citizens don't need to carry a gun for personal protection but police chiefs, who are desk-bound administrators who work in a building filled with cops, need a gun.

37. "Assault weapons" have no purpose other than to kill large numbers of people. The police need assault weapons. You do not.

38. When Microsoft pressures its distributors to give Microsoft preferential promotion, that's bad; but when the Federal government pressures cities to buy guns only from Smith & Wesson, that's good.

39. Trigger locks do not interfere with the ability to use a gun for defensive purposes, which is why you see police officers with one on their duty weapon.

40. Handgun Control, Inc., says they want to "keep guns out of the wrong hands." Guess what? You have the wrong hands.


Take care.
DAL357

The Unquiet Grave

Recently, I became aware of an anonymous old folk poem that I like, so what better place for it to end up but on my blog? Truthfully, I am not much of student of poetry, prose being my preferred passion. This, no doubt, has to do with how little effort I put into reading poetry, but it probably also to do with the fact that I am somewhat of a literalist and many subtle allusions and metaphors pass right by me unnoticed.

Or maybe I'm just a bonehead. No matter what the reason, I think you'll enjoy the following piece of literature. One thing I've noticed in my small experience with poetry is it often benefits from being read aloud, and this offering is no exception.


The Unquiet Grave

The Wind doth blow today, my love,
And a few small drops of rain;
I never had but one true-love,
In cold grave she was lain.

I'll do as much for my true-love,
As any young man may;
I'll sit and mourn all at her grave
For a twelvemonth and a day.

The twelvemonth and a day being up,
The dead began to speak:
'Oh who sits weeping on my grave,
And will not let me sleep?

'Tis I, my love, sits on your grave,
And will not let you sleep;
For I crave one kiss of your clay-cold lips,
And that is all I seek.

You crave one kiss of my clay-cold lips;
But my breath smells earthly strong;
If you have one kiss of my clay-cold lips,
Your time will not be long.

'Tis down in younder garden green,
Love, where we used to walk,
The finest flower that ere was seen
Is withered to a stalk.

The stalk is withered dry, my love,
So will our hearts decay;
So make yourself content, my love,
Till God calls you away.


To all but the dimmest bulb, this poem needs no intermediary to help make sense of it, which may be one of the reasons I like it so.

Merry Christmas to you and yours.

Take care.
DAL357

Notes from the Hunting Journal--11/18/07

11-18-07: I took another stab at deer hunting. This outing proved that once again that the journey is often at least as interesting as the arrival.

Since John A. had taken his deer last weekend, he wasn’t hunting, but his son, who accompanied us for the first time this season, was with him. We checked in at Range Control on Ft. Carson, a bothersome formality, and chose the area we wanted to hunt. The area John took his deer in the previous week was closed to hunting on this weekend. This bit of news miffed me since I could have sworn that the recorded phone message I listened to that states which areas are open on a given weekend said that area was open. We chose an alternate area, one just across the road from the desired area, completed the sign-in process, and were on our way.

Driving to your hunting area on Ft. Carson before the sun’s come up is good training should you ever think you might go blind. The downrange road rules for Ft. Carson do not allow white lights to be used because they interfere with the night vision equipment soldiers may be using. In other words, no headlights allowed. Only amber lights are permitted, and unless you have some amber-tinted fog lights, this means you must drive using your parking lights. This makes for a slow, and sometimes disorienting, ride.

Luckily, the area we wanted to hunt wasn’t too far from Range Control, so it didn’t take us long. By the time we arrived, geared up, and started hunting, it was light enough to see. I moved to a spot next to a large, leafless bush on the edge of a plateau where below the land fell away about 70 feet to a maze of draws and opened into a large semi-circular, bowl-like area approximately one-half mile across. From this spot, I glassed the entire area slowly with my Pentax 10x43 binoculars, seeing two other hunters on the opposite rim of the plateau. After at least 20 minutes of glassing, I spotted a lone doe to my left. I glanced back to see if the other hunters had noticed her, but they couldn’t see her from their angle. Turning the binos back to the doe, I couldn’t find her again. Damn! I had looked away for less than a minute and now the deer had disappeared. Disappointed, I glassed the area again and, finally, claimed sight of the doe again--as well as two sister doe. They slowly meandered up a hill and there I saw, standing next to an evergreen tree, a buck. Once they were all in the same area, they went down into a small depression and didn’t reappear. During the entire time I watched them, the deer were much too far out of range, at least 500 yards, to take an accurate (read ethical) shot. I left to find John and son, making a mental note to search that depression later. I never did.

After meeting up with John, who was closer than I thought, we decided to see what lay in the opposite direction we had been looking. Our plan of attack was decided upon and we were off. The plan was simple: John and his son, Matt, walked on the sides of some rather large hills while I paralleled them on the road. We were all walking downhill, off of the plateau. The distance between us was 150-200 yards. We kept in contact via John’s two-way radios, which didn’t work about as often as they did.

After traveling a few minutes, I left the road and walked back onto the grass a short distance and did a little glassing. On the road quite a ways below, I saw four doe cross the pavement and melt into a draw. Glassing some more I noticed, at the foot of a hill far ahead of John and Matt, a group of six doe feeding; again, they were too far for a shot. I called John on the radio and told him to get to a spot where he could see them, which he did, and I further said I was going to walk below them and then double back and move the herd in his direction. He said okay and I was off.

Returning to the road, I walked past the feeding ungulates, who took notice of me but did not run. The fact that I was a good distance from them probably helped, as did the fact that they see human activity in the form of soldiers in the area all the time. Passing the herd until we could no longer see each other, I left the road and used small draws to shield my approach. As I neared, I went into a dry creek bed that ran along the foot of the hill and John radioed me that the deer had moved into that same creek bed. I told him to watch for them but not to shoot until they were far above where I was in the creek bed. I walked about 100 yards more up the creek bed and then the deer spooked and started moving back up the hill in John and Matt’s direction. One doe split off from the herd and, less than 75 yards away, stopped to look back at me. I could have ended my season then and there, but for the fact that John and company were in the background. Granted, from where I stood they were to the left of the deer and quite a bit higher on the hill, but it still didn’t seem safe. I did call John and said I was going to take the shot, but he didn’t respond and I thought better of it and let the chance pass.

Matt, on the other hand, took his chance at one of the deer--and missed. Personally, I think they were still too far from the deer and I wish they had gotten closer before making a stand, but so be it. Repeated calls to John on the radio inquiring whether or not Matt connected went unanswered. While making my way towards them, I heard Matt fire three more shots, but not in the direction the of the herd I moved. He saw another deer back towards the road. After he began firing, I guess the deer didn’t stick around, ‘cause I never saw it. Oh well, at least my stalk had worked and I was quite proud of that. I actually felt like a hunter.

We met back at the road and followed it to the vehicles. There, we decided to go down into the bowl-like area where I had seen the first deer of the morning. John and Matt took up a spot a few hundred yards below the plateau’s rim and I said I’d walk in their direction from above and try to scare something up. (I enjoy doing this, by the way, so it wasn’t as if I drew a short straw or anything.) Once I got to the point I where wanted to start my sweep, however, I realized I really didn’t have all that much energy left to perform a strenuous hike (I had forgotten to bring my lunch, and a bowl of early-morning oatmeal only gets you so far), so I called John and told him. Since Matt had to be at work at noon and it was already after 11:00 a.m., we decided to call it a day.

On the way back to them I met a couple of hunters driving in a truck. They stopped to chat and declared they were looking only for bucks. One offered information, however, that there were quite a few doe in a creek bed below. The hunters continued on and spoke to John when they caught up to him and apparently told him the same thing. We decided to quickly check out the creek bed and walked along a dirt road (more, really, of a vehicle-blazed trail) that ran closely alongside it. After a few minutes, with John and son ahead of me, they stopped suddenly. I strained to see what they were looking at and saw a buck trying to make it up an eroded hill on the other side of the creek. It was too steep, so he went a little farther up the creek, found a better spot, and quickly moved out of sight over the crest. I remember telling Matt not to shoot while it was still in sight because it was a buck, but he said there was a doe also. At this point I finally saw it moving up the same hill and I told Matt to shoot, but he said it was my turn.

Thank goodness I hadn’t forgotten my homemade shooting sticks this time (see photo above), because they served their purpose handily. As the deer was making its way up the steep hill, I dropped to one knee, placed my rifle on the sticks, took a quick aim, flipped off the safety, made a clicking noise so the deer, that had just crested the hill, would stop (I read that sometimes it works--it did this time), and touched off the 100-yard shot. As I was coming out of the .30-06’s recoil, I saw the tail of the deer flip up as it ran out of sight. I thought I had missed it, but John said it looked like it shook after I fired. Ethics dictated that we must check it out, so we started across the dry creek bed and up the hill.

I can honestly say that that hill worked out my thighs like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. No squats have ever given me such cramps. I actually had to stop a time or two on the way up, not because I was winded, but because my thighs cramped so badly that I thought I might topple down the hill. My legs HURT! Thankfully, shortly after reaching the top of the hill and walking on flat ground again, the cramps left. May the never return.

After a quick search of the area, Matt saw where the doe had fallen. The shot had caught her low in the chest, through the heart. Had the bullet’s path been two inches lower, it would have passed harmlessly under the deer altogether. I give a lot of credit to the shooting sticks for helping me make the kill. After a quick field dressing, John took my keys and went to get my truck while Matt and I dragged the doe towards the road, a chore made easier, but still not particularly easy, because the deer was a whitetail and not a mule deer. (28 years earlier, I had bagged a mule deer doe and it took four people to drag her up a short hill; she was quite a bit more robust than the whitetail I had just taken, or the one John had taken the week before that.) After loading her in the truck, John contacted the game processor, who said they couldn’t take the deer before 4:00 p.m. At that point it was about 12:30 p.m. We covered her with a tarp and drove back to Range Control to check out and parted ways.

On the way home, I stopped to buy a couple of bags of ice, as the butchers suggested, to place in the deer to keep it cool until they could get to it. I also called my brother Donald and nephew Michael to ask if they could help me handle the deer while I hosed it out. They arrived at my home shortly after I did and were invaluable in their assistance. After hosing out and drying the deer, I put the bags of ice in the body cavity, recovered it with the tarp and parked the truck with the deer in the bed in the garage. It was a fairly warm day for November, but the carcass stayed cool, always vital when handling edible game.

After a quick shower and meal, I relaxed with my wife and son for a while and then took the deer in for processing. I dropped the carcass off and told them how my wife and I wanted the meat cut, and then enjoyed a hot chocolate at Starbucks while reading Dostoyevsky’s
“The Brothers Karamazov.”

Just over an hour after leaving the deer, they called my cell phone and said it was ready for pick up. The total cost for processing was $103, which included $25 for skinning. I took the meat home and, to my surprise, it all fit in the freezer.

The next day I took the head in to the Department of Wildlife so that they could check it for Chronic Wasting Disease. For the area where I took the deer, this check was free, although it’s not free in all areas of the state. The man said it would be about 10-15 business days before the results were back, so we are now waiting for the yea or nay. In the meantime, I vacuum sealed all of the individual meat packets so that they will last longer and not incur freezer burn. We are not big red meat eaters, so we will likely consume the meat slowly over the next 6-12 months, in between meals of chicken and fish.

All in all I am happy with the results. I am curious to see if the meat from a whitetail deer tastes any different from a mule deer. Once again, the same ol’ Winchester model 670 .30-06 that I’ve had since I was just shy of my 19th birthday helped me bring home the meat. To say that I am really fond of this sub-MOA rifle would be an understatement. By the way, this is the first time I used one of my handloads (165 gr. Hornady bullet #3045, 48.5 grains of Varget powder, CCI 200 primer, Remington case) to take a big-game animal. I can’t wait to enjoy the fruits of my labor.

Take care.
DAL357

"A date that will live in infamy."

By the way, lest we forget, exactly 66 years ago today the United States was attacked by Japan. Yes, there's more to that event than meets the eye, but for now let us pause to remember not the politics behind the scenes, but those Americans who lost their lives on that fateful, tragic day nearly a lifetime ago.

Take care.
DAL357

The dental patient.

Not that this is an absolute sign or revelation that societal collapse is imminent--a horse that’s been flogged past the point of death for countless generations--but the following little anecdote is another mile-marker on the road to a nasty, brutish, low-class society, a pit whose bottom we must surely be nearing, for I cannot believe that it’s all that much deeper.

Earlier this week, while dropping off a ballet ticket for my wife to one of her friends, I was blindsided once again, per usual, by coarse behavior. My wife’s friend works at a dental office and I went to the front desk and asked to speak to her. While waiting, a young female patient was on the phone at the other end of the short counter apparently trying to cajole a ride from the party on the other end of the connection. The other party must have shown some reluctance to grant this request because the young female patient said, without any hint of hesitancy or shame, that the other party had better give her a ride, or “I’ll f--k you up.” Then she concluded the conversation and went to sit down in the waiting area.

Not only I heard this exchange--the receptionist heard it too. She glanced at me with a kind of resigned, embarrassed, what-can-you-do look. Judging from the clientele (lots of baggy, sports team-emblazoned sweat clothes filled with pudgy figures built from processed foods) I noticed in the rather spacious waiting area (perhaps I should say holding area) when I walked in, I doubt this is the first time she heard this type of crude talk, or the last.

Now, here is where the disclaimer should come that says I am not a prude, snob, or elitist and that I, too, have used that type of language (although not in a public setting). But, you know what?, I don’t believe I’ll do that. Why? Because I am better than those people, at least in terms of public manners and comportment. Thank God I had parents who raised me to be polite to others and mindful of my surroundings, and who taught me that the world does not revolve around me. And thank God that I spent my formative years in a time when self-control and self-censorship was seen as the hallmark of a decent, normal, unexceptional, person.

How did I escape this? I was not exposed to any great degree to the effluence pumped out by Hollywood rump-humpers and money-maddened music-industry morons. There was still a measure of decorum within these areas of entertainment, at least outwardly, although even then it was beginning to crumble.

More than anything else, I feel sorry for the people exposed to all sorts of crass, vile language/behavior the entertainment industry uses to make a buck. These poor folks, raised on garbage pumped directly into their homes by parents who were, in turn, raised the same way, have no concept of what passes for polite public discourse.

All of which brings me to another point. I wish I could say this behavior is limited to a certain socio-economic class, but, alas, it isn’t. It has seeped out and soaked practically every stratum of society, although it usually doesn’t manifest itself as openly in the "higher" classes as the example I gave earlier.

Thanks, entertainment moguls, for taking the low road to make a buck, and in the process coarsening a society and making it unfit human habitation. Thank you for helping to destroy the long evolution of everyday civil behavior built over centuries. Thank you for children who now carry baggage they were never meant to lug via your graphic images, situations/stories, and language; their childhood has been stolen from them and, once gone, it can never be replaced. You have so very much to be proud of.

Take care.
DAL357