Monday, September 25, 2017

Bandaging: Gather Supplies

Before you wrap anything, you've got to have something to bandage with.

What you have is entirely subjective. I've provided sample listings a time or three, for instance herehere, and here, which describe, respectively, a standard jump bag, a minimal pocketsize Everyday Carry Survival Kit, and a SHTF Apocalypse Trunk.

You can also get great ideas for kit lists to aim towards if you find the NSNs (National Stock Numbers) of various military kits, and then google them.
For example:
NSN 6545-00-919-6650 yields you the item packing contents for

this little cargo-pocket sized wonder, found snapped to the fuselage of countless US military aircraft.
The military is fanatical about lists and standardization. You should mine that knowledge.

Which one to use for your model?
I have no frickin' clue. Because I don't know how many of you there are, what your most-trained people (and least-trained common denominator people) can do, or how long or for what you're preparing to deal.

That's YOUR problem, and you'd better get on it if you haven't already.
Invest some thinking time (if necessary, keep a pad and pencil in the Porcelain-clad Thinking Room), and plan it out.

Once you do that, whether you're packing a pocket kit for a day hike, or the Medical Suite Of The Zombie Apocalypse, and gather your stuff, there's something else you need to do.

Get one (or some) of everything you're planning to use, designate it "Training Supplies", and make sure you and everyone capable of helping out takes it out and plays with it.

No $#!^, Sherlock.
And no excuses.
Military training is geared at around sixth-grade reading comprehension level.
(The actual Red Cross texts are probably closer to fourth grade, currently.)
So your wife, girlfriend, boyfriend, kids, or whoever can do this, if they don't put their shoes and socks on in that order.
And should.
Do what you have to do, but the first one of everything should get cracked open, and you (plus whoever else) should practice playing with it.

If you can't afford a second (training) set of gear, you're failing to train, which is training to fail, when somebody - possibly you yourself - is spurting blood.
That's what the military refers to as a "non-starter."
Re-think that plan.

Take everything out and play with it (or else, find opportunities to do it for real a few hundred times). See how it's packed, how it opens, how it comes out, how it deploys, how it's supposed to work, and do it twenty or fifty times, until you could do it in the dark, with your eyes closed, by touch. Because in a power-failure after an earthquake or hurricane at 3AM, that may be exactly what you have to do.

Start in daylight, and learn what you're dealing with. Read the packaging instructions. Look at the diagrams. Watch the YouTube videos. Then carefully fold, roll, and re-pack it right back the way it came, and do it again. And again. And again.
Then have any others in your plans do the same thing too.
Because they may be putting it on you someday.

And I mean everything from band-aids to CAT-T tourniquets. I have watched doctors and nurses struggle with band-aids, and it's embarrassing, but it happens, because in years of training, they never paid attention to getting it right, or learning how stuff works well enough to master its use. Even in the medical biz. So FFS, don't be that person.

Gather up the toys you think you need, and a practice set.
And practice with the practice set, not until you get it right, but until you can't get it wrong.

The rule of thumb for our military's special operations forces is that they aren't superhuman;
they just rehearse the basics until they do it perfectly, every time.

It's no more complicated than that with anything.

Now get cracking.

Pittsburgh Kneelers Coach Blasts Hero For Being A Real Man


"How dare he show the rest of us up for the pampered pussies we are," said Pittsburgh Kneelers Head Pussy Tomlin in a quote I made up that is nonetheless 100% accurate.

The head coach of the NFL's Pittsburgh Steelers blasted one of his players, a former Army Ranger, for his decision to break from the team and respectfully stand for the national anthem on Sunday.
After a non-unanimous "team" decision, Coach Mike Tomlin had insisted the entire team—reflecting the actions of some other NFL teams—stay in the locker room prior to their game against the Chicago Bears, and not be present for the national anthem, Fox News reports. One Steelers player decided to break with Tomlin's decision, and came out to stand for the national anthem with his hand over his heart.
Offensive tackle Alejandro Villanueva stood alone on the Steelers sideline to pay tribute to his country.
Villanueva is a retired Army Ranger who was awarded the Bronze Star and served three tours of duty in Afghanistan.
After losing to the Chicago Bears, Tomlin spoke out against Villanueva's decision.
"Like I said, I was looking for 100 percent participation, we were gonna be respectful of our football team," Tomlin said.
Tomlin also said that the decision to stay in the locker room came from his players.
"Many of them felt like something needed to be done," Tomlin said. "I asked those guys to discuss it and whatever they discussed that we have 100 percent participation or we do nothing."
Tomlin is a chickenshit sonafabitch, and should be fired by the Kneelers management, after being ejected by the League for violating League game operations standing written policy.
But such witless, spineless douchebags as Tomlin and his ilk can be counted on to buckle the straps tighter, and double down on stupid even as their barrel is headed over the falls.

While Villanueva's jersey sales have skyrocketed overnight, fans of the Steelers before they became the pussified Kneelers have a different take:


Well played, NFL assholes. You've generated more hate in a week by following the lead of Colon Paperdick than you ever inspired admiration from fans in any twenty years.

Good luck washing cars and bussing tables, you league of losers.

Saul Alinsky called you gutless shitbags, and left a message:
Ridicule is man's most potent weapon
A good tactic is one your people enjoy.
It's going to be a long, cold, lonely season, for the Kneelers and the NFL.

And Villanueva's Bronze Star with "V" award story?
In August, 2011, Alejandro Villanueva, a 2nd lieutenant in the United States Army, found his platoon under fire. He was trying to protect Afghan civilians from a firefight with the Taliban when the Taliban turned their attention on Villanueva's troops. Three of his soldiers were wounded; two survived, but Pfc. Jesse Dietrich did not, dying as Villanueva carried him into a waiting helicopter."As the platoon leader, I feel responsible for everything my platoon does or fails to do," Villanueva told ESPN's Ashley Fox in 2011 (he does not discuss his time in the military that often or in too much detail). "I failed to keep Jesse Dietrich safe, and you know, it was just tough. ... I keep thinking of other ways I would have done it, but it was a very tough mission and the enemy beat us that day. It was just a really bad night."
...for exceptionally valorous conduct in the face of the enemy while serving as a rifle platoon leader with 2nd Battalion, 87th Infantry Regiment of the 10th Mountain Division in Kandahar Afghanistan in August, 2011...

A free-agent walk-in when signed by the Eagles while still serving in the Army, Villanueava is 6'9" and 320 pounds.

Ain't nobody who's telling a Ranger-tabbed guy that size to sit down.
And certainly not such a gutless douchebag as Tomlin.
But at least now we know who the only guy in the Kneelers locker room is who wears pants, and pees standing up.

And now, NASCAR owners have weighed in:
"Anyone who disrespects the flag or law enforcement will be FIRED!"

Let's Not Jump To Any Hasty Concl...

h/t Conservative Treehouse


Church shooting puzzler:

guess the race of the shooter
guess the religion of the shooter
guess the motivation of the shooter
You can score yourself in a day or two.

For now:
Police say the gunman wore a neoprene ski mask when he shot and killed a woman in the parking lot of Burnette Chapel Church of Christ, as the service was ending shortly after 11 a.m. With his blue Nissan Xterra still running, the gunman then entered the rear sanctuary doors of the church and began “indiscriminately” shooting, police said.
After identifying the shooter, who had two pistols, in the afternoon, police said Samson was a legal U.S. resident but not a U.S. citizen, who came from Sudan in 1996.
The great pity is nobody capped him where he fell, just to be sure.

Sudan is 70% Muslim by population, and only 5% Christian anywhere, so the odds are way over to one side on this one - if the media ever coughs up the truth. But so far, no statements to the effect that he was calling out "Aloha Snackbar!" as he went about his chosen mission today.

Great Idea

Midterms will be coming up next year.
Have a chat with your reps.
Including those at any gun rights orgs you may belong to.

Fire And Prosecute Jackbooted Thugs XXV

Sunday, September 24, 2017

NFL Protests Caused By Brain Damage


And let's face it, these are guys who haven't cracked a book since 10th grade, and had some geek doing their homework for years before they got into The Big Show.

Link: People's Cube
ROCHESTER, New York – A groundbreaking new study by Mayo Clinic’s leading neurologist, Dr. Terrence Lachance, has shown results indicating a link between brain damage and compulsive unwarranted protesting. This news, in light of recent protests by NFL players, seems to be making sense to a lot of people, while leaving others dumbfounded.

“My study conclusively shows that over time, repeated blows to the head, injuries that could be sustained from playing a sport like football, severely depreciates the logic facilities in the brain,” says Dr. Lachance. “Once I noticed this, I immediately had to reach out to leading behavioral psychologists to further dissect this phenomenon.”

“Now that we understand that these players don’t have the mental capacity to fully understand complex issues, we can see why they might want to protest,” agreed the American Psychological Association’s leading psychologist Dr. Lara Feinstein.

“They (football players) make egregious amounts of money for nothing more than God-given talent and the right physical training," said Dr. Feinstein. "They are then put on a national stage and made to believe they are truly special and important so that they perform better on the field. We now know that while they may be fantastic football players, their ability to comment on socioeconomic politics is severely lacking.”

When asked for a statement, Roger Goodell declined to comment apart from a cease and desist letter we were handed, insisting we not publish this story.
FWIW, People's Cube should be a regular stop for you. The graphics and the stories are absolutely snarkaliciously funny.

Internet comments on a thread on another blog:
The NFL has a rule on this Anthem situation but Goodell will not enforce it....The specific rule pertaining to the national anthem is found on pages A62-63 of the league’s game operations manual, according to a league source. It states: 
“The National Anthem must be played prior to every NFL game, and all players must be on the sideline for the National Anthem.
“During the National Anthem, players on the field and bench area should stand at attention, face the flag, hold helmets in their left hand, and refrain from talking. The home team should ensure that the American flag is in good condition. It should be pointed out to players and coaches that we continue to be judged by the public in this area of respect for the flag and our country. Failure to be on the field by the start of the National Anthem may result in discipline, such as fines, suspensions, and/or the forfeiture of draft choice(s) for violations of the above, including first offenses."


Smallest wound I've ever seen that became a major problem: a pimple.
Worst wounds I've ever seen that were definitely a problem:
Massive burns.
Traumatic Amputation.

If you want to do bandaging, you have to be prepared to deal with all of the above.
And anything in between the simplest to the most complex.

Times the number of people you're thinking of helping.
Times the amount of time you may be the only medical resource available.

This is a lot of territory to think about.
There are books to help you.

But one of the smallest guides I could refer to covers just bandaging in over twenty pages (at 5" x 8", with pictures!), so it's a cinch I'm not going to eat the elephant in one bite, or in one blog post. Even the best medical course I took devoted an entire 3-hour evening just to it, plus untold hours of practical exercise.

What I will do, in a 3-5 minute read, is go over it one bite at a time.

Start by getting your hands on a good book (or better, 3 or 10) on first aid/primary medical care.
For the terminally cheap, here are the .mil versions to consider:

TC 4-02.1 (2016) First Aid
FM 21-11 (1988) First Aid For Soldiers
FM 8-50 (1940) Bandaging and Splinting

There are many other worthy choices, but if those were all you had, you'd do okay.
Getting them on thumb drives takes three mouse clicks. Printing them out (because you're smart like that) will cost you part of an ink cartridge, and a ream of paper.

I urge you to make the effort.
Class will be back in session tomorrow.

You're Not As Prepared As You Think You Are

Go and read the entire post over at The Daily Sheeple.

It's true on the short-term micro-catastrophe side.
And it's true on the long-term macro-catastrophe side.

Pay attention to the whole thing, and get your affairs in order.
On both accounts.

When things unwind, it will be come-as-you-are.
Or, as my namesake noted once upon a time:

In a field one summer's day a Grasshopper was hopping about, chirping and singing to its heart's content. An Ant passed by, bearing along with great toil an ear of corn he was taking to the nest.
     "Why not come and chat with me," said the Grasshopper, "instead of toiling and moiling in that way?"
     "I am helping to lay up food for the winter," said the Ant, "and recommend you to do the same."
     "Why bother about winter?" said the Grasshopper; "We have got plenty of food at present." But the Ant went on its way and continued its toil.
     When the winter came the Grasshopper had no food and found itself dying of hunger - while it saw the ants distributing every day corn and grain from the stores they had collected in the summer. Then the Grasshopper knew: It is best to prepare for days of need.

The War Will Be Fun (keyboard alert!)

h/t Gun Free Zone

GFZ won the Internetz for the day yesterday for the masthead pic above
(meme caption is mine, but GFZ's text was priceless):
"From left to right, or maybe more accurately, radical left to far left: Ginger Arafat, Stickmag, Emo Hawkeye, and Tactical Coolio."
That one screams.
My best riff would be Isis-Age Neanderthal, Spike Glee, Emo Hood, and Tacticoolio, but GFZ got there first, and deserves all the props for this one.

These @$$clowns were loitering outside the STL courthouse because of whatever the BLM/Antifa/OWS/ADHD BMW bitch-fest du jour is on about.

Just a guess, but better than even odds they'll be seeing the inside of the STL courthouse, and sooner rather than later.

As the local cops recently and rather hilariously pointed out to some of their newly oppressed brethren recently,
"Whose streets? Our streets!"
It's not that jackbooted thuggery is wrong per se, it's that the cops beat up nurses and shoot middle-aged women in bathrobes, when they should be giving knuckleheads like these clueless clowns a PR-24 shampoo. As anyone knows who's ever spanked their kids, judiciously applied corporal punishment can be therapeutic in many ways. Seeing it happen to this type of @$$clown would also be hilarious.

But this is the armed Leftard resistance. When you pick yourselves up from laughing on your back, try to muster an appropriate level of concern.

Done With All Those Whiny M*****f*****s - updated

No pics of these c*********s (if you watched Deadwood, I'm channeling Al Swearengen here) in question who think a sports stadium is their pulpit to berate America and piss on their fans.

All those overpaid, under-educated, miserable crying sh*tbags are dead to me.

I won't be watching, listening, or paying any attention to any sport, any team, any league, or any network that showcases these nitwits and lets them keep a job tomorrow. (If they'll start lighting themselves on fire though, I'll happily send an approving note.)

And if this keeps up, and the teams and leagues don't start terminating these jackholes, and banning them for life from their respective sports, my next target is every advertiser that subsidizes their antics.

So car companies, beer distillers, and everyone else, this is your only warning:
put the word out that this horseshit ends today, or earn the wrath and enmity of one helluva lot of pissed off former fans.

Call the toss, bitchez.

See who wins my game.

And from Moonbattery via A Nod To The Gods:

Matt Bracken has one up at WRSA today too. Seems like today, we've all had exactly enough bullshit out of the National Felony League, et al.

Alejandro Villanueva, a West Point graduate and former Army Ranger who served three tours in Afghanistan, stood at the tunnel with his hand over his heart to salute the flag and honor the brave men and women who have served America. This is not a political stance but a “love of Country” stance. These players need to understand the difference and honor those who have fought and died for America.

One real man amongst an entire team of the Pittsburgh Kneelers.
(And to the pussified New England "Patriots" : Stop appropriating my culture!)

I'm now waiting for SecDef Mattis to announce:

"Effective immediately, all DoD advertising is suspended for NFL games, and any sports broadcast associated with them, including all cable networks. No Department of Defense support will be given for color guards, honor guards, flyovers, or any other such appearances or support in conjunction with any team, sport, or league that is disrespectful to this nation, our flag, or the men and women of the armed forces. All professional sports games are henceforth off limits to any service members in uniform, or while wearing any portion of their uniform, until further notice. Violations of this regulation will be punished by courts martial in each and every incident without fail by subordinate commanders. There will be no unit activites permitted at such events, no unit parties revolving around it, and Super Bowl Sunday activities around the world will henceforth be conducted as a full duty day, in all likelihood one spent in the field, getting cold, wet, and dirty doing the mission of the military. It will not be spent celebrating a bunch of pampered pussies free to be the disrespectful idiots they so clearly are. As a land of freedom, America has room for their ilk, but this Department of Defense will no longer subsidize their disgraceful and shameful conduct and childish disrespect for the nation in which they live, in any way, nor to the slightest degree."
See if he doesn't, and/or the calls don't start coming from members of Congress for him to do exactly that, in 3, 2, ...

Blood is in the water, and sharks are gonna shark.

The National Felony League has mishandled and misjudged this horribly, and they're about to find out what happens after you grab the tiger by the tail, and he decides you look like lunch.

Couldn't happen to a more deserving bunch of douchebags.

Fire And Prosecute Jackbooted Thugs XXIV

Saturday, September 23, 2017

NY Times: Stupid On Pretty Much Anything You Could Think Of

h/t Pirate's Cove

So apparently, the NYSlimes has decided to slam Pres. Trump for not wasting money on a silly-ass earthquake warning system.

(Moonbatville) People cannot prevent earthquakes, but they can take steps to minimize the deaths and damage. Many more might have died in Mexico City this week had the country not invested in an early warning system that rang alarms just before the catastrophic earthquake struck. The United States, which has been slow to finish a similar system on the West Coast, can learn from Mexico’s example.(Discussion of what an early warning system can do)
The United States Geological Survey is building a warning system called ShakeAlert for California, Oregon and Washington. A prototype is up and running. But Congress has not appropriated the money to finish it. Officials say just 40 percent of the necessary field stations have been built so far. The Geological Survey says that it would cost $38 million to finish the system and $16 million a year to operate it. Congress appropriated just $10.2 million in the current fiscal year. (California and private foundations have also contributed money to the project over the years.)
As Pirate's Cove noted, it's not such a bright idea.


Let's do some maths, and since it's Saturday, I'll work it out for you.

P-waves radiate outward from an earthquake epicenter at 7 times the speed of sound in air (roughly 5300 MPH at sea level).
Love waves, the ground waves that do the actual damage, move outwards at a more sedate 700-1000 MPH.
IOW, in less than a minute, they've already arrived everywhere within 16 miles of the epicenter, or the nearest 860 square miles. In two minutes, the circle is 66 miles across, some 3400 square miles. Which is, for any foreseeable earthquake, the limit of anyone who cares, or needs warning.

Thus California, like everywhere else in the world, has a very precise earthquake warning system, and it costs zero dollars, with no annual maintenance fees:

If the ground shakes a lot, a dangerous earthquake is occurring.
If it doesn't shake so much, it's no big deal.

No warning system can secure more than a few seconds to perhaps a minute's notice faster than that, and anyplace with more warning will be so far away that the warning is useless.
And for a nominal optimum processing time of 15 seconds, anyone within 3 miles of the epicenter will never be warned before the ground is already shaking like a leaf in a hurricane.

Thus any warning system is a boondoggle, of a range from dubious to nil utility on its best day.

So the NYSlimes knows as much about earthquake physics as they do about anthropogenic global warming, or the lack thereof.

They are, in fact, idiots on a scale that should set off Stupidity Alerts - at seven times the speed of sound - every time they write about something.
Pretty much like every day for the last 50 years.

In other news, no federal funding has been allocated to erecting barriers to keep elephants out of the trees in NFYC's Central Park, and for just about exactly the same reason: it'd be epic dumbassery and a total waste of money.

The Slimes should go after that level of wanton governmental heartless cruelty and be on it like white on rice. At least, until they go back on their meds.

Don't Hold Back Tim, Tell Us What You Really Think

h/t 100% F---ed Up

Tim Allen, hilarious star of the Most Cancelled Show On Network TV in 2017, opened up to the Hollywood Reporter last fall about his own views before Disney/ABC informed him that his ratings would no longer fit in with their corporate image of Totally In The Tank For Communism:
 Why has the show gone after Hillary but not Trump?
It's a little surprising to me. We have a very liberal writing staff, so I’m surprised they haven’t taken a shot at him. But we’re not sure he’s going to last, whereas the Clintons are like herpes: Just when you think they’re gone, they show up again. 
Didn’t you try a bit about Obama raising the communist flag at the White House that never made it to air?
We got network notes saying you can’t call the president a communist. So, of course, I really wanted to. I do it in rehearsal all day long.
Allen is still the stand-up genius that ABC neutered for Home Improvement, and turned loose for Last Man Standing. But as the cancellation showed, we can't be having any more of that.

So now you'll just have to binge-watch the whole series on DVD, with no commercials.
Boo frickin' hoo.

For bonus points, maybe bootlegged from China, so his corporate overlords get shorted to boot.

Fire And Prosecute Jackbooted Thugs XXIII

Friday, September 22, 2017

Antifa's Civil War

Kenny nails it. Outta the park.
An excerpt:
They’re talking about starting their little war by shooting cops and first responders. Okaaay… let’s see how that works out for them. First off, other than the inner cities, cops are largely looked upon by the general public as their protectors. Those of you that have been reading my writings for any period of time know that I spent a few years of my life living on the wrong side of the law and you’ve heard me say that I generally prefer to handle my own problems without getting the cops involved. That being said, I’ve also stated that I feel a lot better knowing that there’s a cop eating a donut just a few blocks from where my elderly mother is sleeping alone at night. The simple fact of the matter is, there’s a lot of people that depend on their local PD or Sheriff’s Office for their safety and well being. The general public is not going to put up with people shooting at their protectors. 
Other first responders? Who are they kidding? If they start shooting at firemen and paramedics, they’re going to open up a can of worms like they ain’t never seen before. Everybody supports their local fire department and paramedics. We all depend on them and most of us have used their services at one time or another in our lives and been damned glad they were there. Those people are the ones that showed up when Grandpa had his heart attack or when Johnny got into an accident on the freeway or when Junior was playing with matches and set the house on fire. If antifa starts shooting first responders, they’re going to be strung up en masse from power poles by people that had never harmed a fly in their lives before. 
Shooting ordinary citizens? That should be interesting. That old man that retired from his accounting firm a few years ago and now spends his time tending his roses was awarded a Silver Star for heroism in Vietnam. He had no problem killing to defend his Brothers then and he’ll do it now to defend his family. The same thing goes for that guy in his late 20s that manages the local Burger King – he was a squad leader in Afghanistan. Or how about that middle aged housewife that will defend her children to the death? Not just them, but there’s a whole lot of law abiding people that have never taken any crap off of anybody.

Listen When Wisdom Speaks, Libtards

Mel Brooks, 91, tells it like it is.

UK Telegraph link
Society's "stupidly politically correct" sensibilities will lead to the "death of comedy", the veteran Hollywood comedian Mel Brooks has warned. 
Brooks, known for his plethora of acclaimed comedy movies, said political correctness was becoming a stranglehold on comedians. 
"It's not good for comedy. Comedy has to walk a thin line, take risks," he said.
"Comedy is the lecherous little elf whispering in the king's ear, always telling the truth about human behaviour." 
The producer and director said that his iconic western parody Blazing Saddles could not be made in today's political climate.
 Among his many credits, Brooks - whose directorial debut The Producers won him an Oscar for best original screenplay - is one of only 12 people to have scooped an Emmy, a Grammy, an Academy Award and a Tony.
His longtime friend and collaborator, Carl Reiner, is 95. I wish they'd get together once more; I'd pay good money to hear one more installment interview of the 2054 Year Old Man. 

US Economics In Seven Graphs

h/t Vulgar Curmudgeon

Welcome to Reality. Mind the ledge.

It's actually worse than this. Posted relative to gold prices (and an ounce of gold is always an ounce of gold) the dollar of today is worth $0.02 (two cents) compared to the dollar of 1912 or so, before WWI. Prices aren't going up; they're reflecting that your currency is worth @$$wipe, for the last century. Welcome to reality.

1 and 2 only lead to 3 when business stops increasing wages to keep pace with inflation, while still raising prices, abetted by a president who de-coupled the dollar from gold completely and in perpetuity. Thanks, Tricky Dicky!

Nota bene those are inflation-adjusted average prices; most Americans (>50%) live in markets where prices are above-average, and in most cases, substantially more. (i.e. one $50K chicken coop in Appalachia gets averaged with one San Francisco walk-up, or any Manhattan condo, either going for +/- $1M, and you drive the average to numbers so low that it wouldn't get you a chicken coop in any metro area. And it doesn't.)

Not inflation-averaged, but still makes the point: New car prices have gone up 600% since the 1970s. You, however, don't likely make 6x what your old man made in 1970.

College education: the tulipomania of the 21st century, and the next bubble likeliest to burst.
Mind the professors leaping from the ivory tower in 3, 2, ...
But you'll be able to get a great lesson on art history from your local barrista pretty soon; if they don't already have a degree in that.

Pay attention here: health care spending is purchased by the government (for Medicare, etc.) at 2 cents on the dollar, something neither you nor your insurance company can do.
And when doctors and hospitals raised your costs (and your insurance company's costs, since you seldom get the actual bill, until recently) to cover subsidizing granny and grandpa, the price for everyone else not covered by Uncle Sugar launched to Saturn. (Clever econ historians will note the massive breakpoint started in 1965, after LBJ created Medicare to ape and rival FDR's Ponzi scheme, Social Security, for biggest wealth transfer in generational history.)

You'll also note that houses, college, and medical care are the exact items fully and solely underwritten by government programs (we'll overlook the massive .gov bailout of two of the Big Three automakers in 2009ish). IOW, once government says "Hey, we'll get that check, and you can pay us back", the prices for those commodities (houses, college education, and medical care) suddenly decoupled from all economic reality, and approach a  trajectory towards the sun, in a matter of years.

Almost like the mechanics of prices as explained by supply and demand behave with some order, exactly as predicted by Adam Smith in 1776. Weird, huh?

Cry Me A River

h/t Gateway Pundit

This story just broke my heart. 
The Democratic National Committee’s already dire financial standing worsened during the month of August, according to its Wednesday night filing to the FEC.
The DNC raised just $4.4 million last month, the second lowest August fundraising figure for the party in the past decade. The party had less cash on hand at the end of the month than it did at the beginning, as its spending outpaced its fundraising by $44,575.
And it gets worse. The DNC’s debt substantially increased from $3.4 million to $4.1 million, a figure equal to about 60 percent of the committee’s total cash on hand.
Well, maybe my Grinch heart, anyways.
Oh, who are we kidding, this is the next best news to them going bankrupt, and folding wholesale. Their politicians in office would then have to shift over to the Communist Party, but at least they'd all finally be out in the open. 
 Meanwhile, the Republican National Committee raised $7.3 million in August. It has $45.9 million in cash on hand and no debts owed.
If the Stupid Party doesn't get their sh*t together and repeal ObozoCare once and for all, I don't think they have enough in their war chest to hold onto the Congress next year either. Be a real shame if Quisling Ryan gets primaried out at the get-go.

A plague on both their houses.

Fire And Prosecute Jackbooted Thugs XXII

Thursday, September 21, 2017

Operation E and E: Seven Came Back

If you read military manuals, you can learn a lot about the military principles necessary to run successful operations. When you're a young Marine, you absorb the lessons unconsciously, and indeed, frequently no manual is even needed, because the principles are basically common sense, distilled through generations of observation, written in blood, punished harshly, and frequently the innate response of clever warfighting naturals, with or without benefit of a written manual.

Today's case in point was a battlefield that until this moment was likely never written about, but the lessons on display are nonetheless timeless in the annals of great military exploits.

This all happened one fall Saturday aboard Camp Lejeune, during the brief period of months during my service when I occupied the territory most familiar and least-beloved by everyone who passes out of boot camp, and into the Fleet Marine Force: that of private first class, and lance corporal.

Saturday was a magical time in those days. No reveille at 0600, no morning PT in the chilly fall air, no three formations a day, no uniforms, nowhere to be, nothing to do, the first of two entire days most weeks in garrison when one could sleep in, go about their day in leisurely fashion, spend it any way they saw fit (consistent with military order and discipline), eat whatever, whenever, and generally behave like a kid on summer vacation.

So that particular Saturday, in the warm comfort of my military rack, in the common squadbay athwart the WWII-era brick barracks I first called home some months prior, I lazed in peaceful repose in that happy twilight one can only appreciate after sleeping all the way beyond sunrise, instead of waking up in the cold dark to the squeal of distant bugles, and nothing to look forward to at the bottom of the military totem pole but getting dressed, stressed, and oppressed.

Lazy, comfortable, and warm beneath my olive drab horseblanket, battle was about to be joined, and only those of laser-bright tactical acumen would emerge unscathed.

As twenty-five or so of my platoon comrades dozed in somnolent Saturday splendor, the other fifteen or so not present being locals, married, or cleverly having left for weekend liberty Friday night and hence gone all weekend, through slitted eyes I watched dust motes dance in the sunbeams. And heard the unwelcome but familiar clatter of boot heels and dress shoes on concrete, approaching the squad bay double doors.

It was Corporal Hammerclatter, one of the motor transport NCOs stuck on weekend duty, but also joined by Lt. Newbar, one of the motor T officers for our artillery battery, as well as being the Officer of the Day for the battalion.

And I remember the words I overheard as they talked at the middle of the squadbay like it was yesterday.

"Well, Corporal, if your assigned Assistant Duty NCO hasn't shown up by now, just grab the first enlisted man who wakes up and post him as your A-Duty, then get down to the motor pool and finish getting those trucks ready for Monday's exercise. Call me at the battalion OOD shack when you've got your "volunteer" posted, and I'll get you to the motor pool and open the shop for you."

"Aye, aye sir."

Intelligence: Proper intelligence preparation of the battlefield means you have some idea of the enemy's location, strength, and intentions, and enables commanders to forsee, thwart, and overcome enemy plans while executing their own plans and operations successfully.

As the footsteps and conversation retreated out the doors and down the central corridor, without word nor whisper, six other enlisted Marines at various points along both sides of the squadbay silently and stealthily slipped out of their racks, opened wall lockers with the acumen of cat burglars, withdrew civilian clothes from them, closed them, made their bunks up to military spec in about five seconds, and joined me in the narrow safety lane between lockers and outside walls and windows, as we all speedily got dressed out of sight and hearing from the OOD, the Duty NCO, or our sleeping comrades. Showers were down the hall, where the OOD and DNCO were chatting. We don't need no stinkin' showers today.

Surprise: Acting quickly, decisively, and most of all, at places and in ways the enemy doesn't expect, yields disproportionately successful outcomes in military operations back to antiquity. When you know what you're up to and the enemy doesn't, you win, and he loses.

We could have tried to awaken our sleeping comrades and share the unhappy news, but the Duty NCO could return at any moment, looking for his pigeon. And some of those guys were either jerks, or stumblef*cks and sleeping drunks from Friday night revelry, who would clatter and bellow, and give the whole thing away. Semper fi, mac. Serves you right for sleeping too soundly, even on a weekend.

Economy of force: A good commander takes only the forces necessary to accomplish the mission, and no more nor less than that.

Without so much as one word of discussion, eyes peeked out through windows on both sides of the barracks, with a view in all directions. One man peered through the crack in the doors, and noted both OOD and Duty NCO had proceeded down the hall to the Comm/Motor T squadbay, at the farthest end from First platoon's squadbay. A couple of silent finger gestures, and no discussion later, found all seven of us poised inside the window on the second deck, next to the fire escape landing and ladder to the ground thoughtfully installed there. 

Speed: "A good plan now is better than a perfect plan in fifteen minutes." - Gen. George S. Patton. Once you settle on your plan of operation, execute it swiftly, decisively, and ruthlessly. This prevents the enemy having time to react, and by the time your operation is discovered, you'll already be executing the next phase.

The barracks were in an "H" shape, with an extra leg between the ends of the bottom of the "H". The sides were the squadbays, the middle crossbar the central corridor, and we were on the second deck. The Duty NCO was posted on the first floor, and Bn HQ and the OOD were to the side of our squadbay, with a direct line of sight between it and us, first along in the row of barracks along the regimental street.

But Lt. Newbar was heard downstairs, near the dayroom, nowhere in sight of the outside, and Cpl. Hammerclatter at his side, so the outside was all clear. With lightning rapidity and co-ordination the full equal of a team of recon Marines, all seven of us opened the fire escape, sliding the sash window up with but a metallic swish, without awakening a single sleeping NCO nearby, and we all clambered out and down the ladder. In less time than it takes to describe, and again, without a single word of conspiration, we all bombshelled in seven different vectors at a fast walk. (When in trouble, never run in the open; the human eye is especially attuned to pick out movement above all other things. Doubly so for OODs seeing seven Marines climb out the second floor window of the barracks at 0730 on a Saturday morning.)

I made my way to the back road, followed it three armories up the street, and cut over to get the last few minutes of morning chow (breakfast for civilians) at the regimental mess hall. Green eggs and ham ain't pretty, but you can't beat the price. After breakfast, I traced a quiet morning walk in the woods, enjoying nature on a quiet day on post, before emerging two regimental areas away, then making my way to the just-opening main PX on base. I proceeded to kill several hours there, and then had a fine luncheon at the newly-opened actual Burger King on base, before deciding it was time to return to home sweet home.

Upon my return, I noted Second Platoon's Pfc. Smuckatelli in cammies and duty belt, sitting in the DNCO chair, staring at the TV, with a sad and pissed off look on his face after being shanghaied into duty on a day he didn't have it, because some derfball was absent without leave from that post. Derfball would pay on Monday morning when the first sergeant got ahold of his stacking swivels, but that wasn't helping out Smuckatelli's Saturday plans, or his mood, not any little bit. Several of my stealthy fellows were enjoying a football game on the lounge TV in their civvies, and with big grins and knowing nods about Smuckatelli's fate.

And the seven survivors, including me, enjoyed a perfect and blissful fall weekend at our own discretion. Needless to say, every man-jack of us made sure the scheduled Sunday Asst. DNCO knew he had the duty on Saturday night, and was ready to go before we retired to our bunks. Those guys, like me, would have found SERE training rather repetitious after a few weekends like that.

An enlisted man could always feel the love in the Marine Corps, especially in 10th Marines. But if he kept his eyes open and his wits about him, he didn't feel that love trying to slither up his tailpipe and screw him with his pants on quite as often.

Fire And Prosecute Jackbooted Thugs XXI

Wednesday, September 20, 2017

Looters Aren't The Only Vermin That Should Be Shot On Sight

h/t Irish 

As Irma whipped through South Florida, Celso Perez and his family were like many of us…
Celso Perez, surprised by county: “Having winds up to 100 miles per hour and we were basically hunkered down in the closet scared to death.”
Monday morning, Irma had passed and it was clear. At 9 a.m., Celso and his neighbors went outside to get to work.
Celso Perez: “We had a lot of trees down in the street and the streets were blocked. We were out here, us and our neighbors, cutting the branches down and trying to open up the streets.”
Later Monday afternoon, as Celso was clearing the tree branches, a car pulled up from Miami-Dade County…
Celso Perez: “And we thought he was here to help us or offer some type of assistance with the trees, maybe he was going to bring us ice or something.”
The code enforcement guy did give Celso something…
Celso Perez: “He said he would have to cite me for having my fence down.”
This warning was slapped on the part of the fence still standing. Celso is a very calm guy. His reaction?
Celso Perez: “I laughed. I thought he was kidding. ‘You are kidding right? We just had a hurricane six hours ago.’ ‘No, I’m not kidding. I have to cite you for this.’ I just laughed. OK, whatever; knock yourself out!”
Celso was told he got the warning was because the fence Irma knocked over made it easy to access his pool and he needed to fix that.
Celso Perez: “Which I could not do that day because all the stores were closed. It’s not like I can go to Home Depot and find some temporary barrier.”
Celso said the code enforcement officer told him he would write up a report and be back to check on him.
Celso Perez: “And if my fence had not been put back up when he came back, he would have to write me a fine or fine me for that.”
Now Celso was really irritated.
Celso Perez: “At the time this officer was out here, we didn’t have power, we didn’t have food, we didn’t have ice. He is crazy, ridiculous. The mayor said that the county would help us recover from the storm and were there to help us. Before the county picks up the debris, the code enforcement guy will beat them to it and some for having my fence down, write me a ticket or something. I’m mad, very upset about this.”
Celso says he understands the fence needs to be put up, but…
Celso Perez: “Give us a minute to breathe. Let us get our power back on. And I wouldn’t mind if they told me that a few days down the line or due time but it bothers me that they came out here just a few hours after the storm had passed.”
Well Howard, does a government agency have to give residents a little time before they start going after them?
Howard Finkelstein, 7News legal expert: “This is outrageous. After Irma, people were stressed, they were worried and for a government official to slap a warning notice on them to add to their misery is insulting. Incredibly, it is legal but should Miami-Dade County be doing it? No. The timing was awful.”
I contacted Miami-Dade County and found out Celso was not alone.
After Irma, the county handed out 680 pool barrier safety notices and 177 electrical hazard safety notices to homeowners suffering damage from Irma.
The county stood by their decision to hand out these notices right after Irma.
A building official wrote, “The safety notice is neither a notice of violation warning nor a citation. It is important that we reach residents in the immediate aftermath of the storm, because that is when conditions are most dangerous, and taking steps to protect life is a critical part of the recovery process.”
A notice alerts the owner that there is a potential hazard present that they may not be aware of.
Celso Perez: “I want the public to know what the county is doing out there.”
Celso couldn’t get a company out to replace his fence yet and put this up … still stunned at what the county did.
Celso Perez: “Shame on Miami-Dade County for harassing the residents and not coming out here and helping us with the trees and do without power. Should have brought us ice not a citation for having a down fence.”
Should the county have been handing out notices right after the storm? The county thinks absolutely; they are helping to save lives. Celso says by hitting him with that after the storm, all they are doing is creating more stress and headaches for homeowners trying to clean up and rebuild.
Miserable m*****f*****s!

Personally I'm sentimental, and generally friendly.
So I'd just have beaten the sumbitch to death with a baseball bat on the spot, and then let the county know that a tree had fallen on his head. (The fact that the tree in question was ash, about 36" in length, and from Louisville KY would thus preclude any claim that I had made any false official statement. I'd simply be exercising some economy with the whole truth.)

But if someone had a chainsaw handy, and had seen Scarface, I would not be a purist in thinking up ways to deal with the problem of such a pestilential infestation after a catastrophe.

Hundreds of unsolved missing persons cases prove that in the South, there ain't much gators and hogs won't eat if you leave it out for 'em in the woods and swamps overnight.

As it is, every one of those city inspectors who've signed so much as a single citation should be summarily suspended without pay for 6 months, handed a shovel, and told they will only be reinstated if they can get 180 days' worth of citizen affidavits of them shoveling sh*t and cleaning up debris, within 180 days, with no days off. Their supervisors should get the same deal, except for a year. They would also all have to provide genealogical proof that their mothers and fathers were married to each other.

'Cuz I'm easy like that.