Monday, June 22, 2009
My first mistake was planting too early. I lost my cabbage and onions from planting them too early. I lost both crops. I lost 3/4 of my lettuce crop in transplanting. Setting up the garden took a lot of work, and I'm using pre-made soil. I could only imagine the amount of back-breaking labor to get a plot of lawn ready for planting. I am also disappointed with some of the heirloom plants. My tomatoes grew sideways for a full month, my cayenne peppers are still growing sideways. Very frustrating. Another frustrating aspect is that many, many seeds are not germinating. I planted 3 beans per hole, and out of 36 holes, only 7 have plants. Same with the failed onions, carrots, etc.
Because of the loss of crops I bought several "regular" plants to transplant in the garden. I bought six jalapeno plants and a dozen onion plants, along with dill, basil, and oregano.
My tomatoes are starting to get small flowers which is good. Likewise the store-bought onions and peppers are thriving. The garlic is going crazy, I cannot wait for it this fall. Yummy!
I need to start planning when crops will rotate out, so I can try for a winter crop of some kind. I am pleasantly surprised how little weeding I need to do. I spend 10 minutes a week weeding! ha! The other garden maintenance is also very easy. That aspect of the SFG method is very, very nice.
So far I have learned a lot about growing your own food. I wonder if I should plant wheat for a winter crop? that will be interesting. Maybe just a few squares at least. I realize that if I was dropped onto an island that growing and procuring my own food would take about 60% of my time. that number varies during the seasons, like planting and harvest, but that doesn't leave a lot of time for training, working on a better shelter, preserving the food, etc. Very eye opening.
If you didn't plant a garden this year, you are crazy. Next year you better, even if it's a few tomato plants on the fire escape. No excuses! These skills might make the difference between malnutrition and thriving during these economic tough times. If the poop hits the fan, they might mean the difference between living and dying.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Read this Bloomberg.com article. And this article on market-ticker.
German media is now reporting the bonds are real. Now I wasn't 100% sure about what exactly a bearer bond was, excpet my knowledge from Die Hard, so I wanted to bone up on it with Wikipedia.
According to the US treasury, there is only $105 million remaining of these bonds.
Now with all the zeroes we could get confused, but $130B is a fuckload more than the $105 million left, according to the treasury. So what's up?
Either the bonds are real, and the US treasury is lying to us, and all the countries buying our debt, or the bonds are fake, and they almost pulled off a real big caper. But wait a second... Bearer bonds are SERIALIZED, so you can bet your first born child that whoever is going to pony up that much cash for a bond is going to make DAMN sure it's real.
So I'm leaning towards they are real. Which should scare the shit out of everyone.That means the US treasury has been printing bonds without the knowledge of the American people and selling it. The money raised with the bond sales was used for who-knows-what nefarious plans.
I fully expect that bloated toad Barney Frank to do nothing about it.
Monday, June 15, 2009
I listen to a wide range of music, so when the radio plays crap I pop in a CD and get my fix that way. Plus, it's hysterical to roll up on a group of kids while cranking opera, or bluegrass, or Scandinavian death metal. It's the little things that brighten my day.
It seems we hit a dry spell for new releases. The latest Metallica album was about as exciting as a postage stamp collection. The new Green Day album sucks. Although the new Killers album is interesting, so far I only like one song. I like going to shows and concerts, but right now there isn't a whole lot going on.
The warped tour had Bad Religion, Less than Jake and Anti-Flag... is it 1992 all over again? Oh yeah Offspring, a re-united No Doubt, Stone Temple Pilots, and Staind are touring as well. Yep it's the 90's again.
ZOMG! the B-52's have 2 shows out on the cape, might have to go! Wait a sec, they are going to be in RI on 8/7! I'm going, never saw them live so that will be a hoot. I brought up the list of shows that are coming, and this jumped right out at me.
I just noticed Little Feat is still touring. Wow. I got dragged to see them in Boston like 20+ years ago, and they looked old then. wow. I thought they sucked - I'm not into the whole jam band thing. (It's surprising what we will go see when there is a hint of hooking up. So i wasn't "dragged" per se, just lead there by my dick.)
Wow. Just noticed REO Speedwagon/Styx/.38 Special coming to Boston. And later on this month Judas Priest and Whitesnake. That is a riot.
Then I noticed that KMFDM is coming to the house of blues on 9/26. I'm definitely going to that show.
Is it me or is there a lack of new music out there? If bands like Motley Crue, Whitesnake can tour 20 years after their peak and have successful tours. How about Judas Priest or Styx touring after 30 years out? Instead of getting a modern equivalent of The Cars, or Areosmith, or Rage Against the Machine we are bombarded by the marketing machine of the Jonas Brothers or Mylie Cyrus. Yuck!
I guess what I was saying back in the late 80's when MTV went from a radio station on the TV to a media powerhouse has come true. Because of the nature of music videos and the "image" being equal to the song's star power, I seriously doubt anyone as fugly as Stephen Tyler could make it today. I've met him in person, and he is one ugly guy. He's really cool in person, but that doesn't cut it when your agent is running a media blitz with your face all over the late night circuit.
And it's a shame. Shame on all of us. There could be great singers but because they don't look like a fashion model they never get a chance. I spoke with quite a few people who went to the American Idol tryouts and unless you were half-naked wearing a wonder-woman outfit, or looked mildly retarded, you didn't stand a chance. There were several people I know that could sing who never even got a chance. Now if it was one, I would think about maybe stage-fright or something, but when several people say the same thing? c'mon.
Style over substance. It's more important on how you look than you perform. Open almost any magazine today. How much is bubble-headed crap vs. real information. Even the woodworking and gun magazines have articles pimping someone's latest product, rather than any objective journalism on the pros and cons of whatever they are reviewing. I cut my subscriptions down to one, Fine Woodworking, but even they print occasional articles of man-love for whatever sponsor's product they are pimping that month.
Style over substance is one of the hallmarks of the Cyberpunk genre. Another is the corporate buyout of the federal government. Are we there now? When the dollar crashes will a consortium of corporations bail us out, forming the first mega-corporation in the process? I need to re-read Neuromancer to get prepared.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
I continue to get ready for whatever may come my way. I cannot see a way for the economy to get out of the mess that it is in. I feel that wall street is just a pile of get-rich-quick schemes devised to fleece average Americans from their money. So, I'm off to HR to reduce my 403b to the minimum after I post this. It will give me an extra $40 a week, which I will invest into silver - when I can find it.
There are a few things I need to do. I need to finish the in-law and rent it. I need to get rolling on my resume and get out of this god-forsaken shithole of a job. I need to get wheat and store it along with a grain mill. So much to do with limited money and time.
As for time I have been helping "Al" with the design of his saltwater fish tank. I'm an OK woodworker, and the tools I have will work for the plexiglas he needs to cut for his tank. I would post a picture, but I cannot get google sketchup to download - it's blocked by the security team. :/
I have a renewed interest in my woodworking hobby. Working on the inlaw apartment always gets me going. I have a lot to do woodworking-wise as I bought a lot of lumber when it was cheap, and now I need to make some projects out of it.
The first project will be a short hall table to go under my projector screen to hold magazines and the center speaker for the surround sound system. Reading magazines, not the ones that have ammo in them! The next project will be a workbench. A real one, with a tail vise and face vise. It's going to be about 84" x 32" and at least 2" thick - all rock maple. The legs will be ash, and I'm going to go with a patternmaker's vise for the face vise and the Lee-Valley twin screw vise for the end vise. I can't wait. Finally, I need a coffee table. So I'll make a nice one with a top that lifts up so I can use it as a TV tray to eat dinner while on the couch watching my Red Sox.
I will have to post pictures of what I have already made and what I am working on, since somewhere there is a Midas Mulligan who I might need to get the attention of. (hint hint)
I originally started with blacksmithing. I loved it, but I didn't have the time to do it right. I still have my two anvils, forge, etc. but not the time to learn how to do it right. Woodworking I got into shortly after I gave up on the smithing. I have always loved fine furniture, not the fancy gaudy shit, but the shaker style.
Shaker furniture is plain, almost drab until you notice the clean symmetry, the exquisite craftsmanship, and the functional design. The first piece of furniture I made was my nightstand. It's crooked as all hell but I cut the mortise and tenons myself. I fitted the drawer. It's hard maple finished with nothing but shellac, but it is now a rich, warm flesh color. When the sunlight hits it right it looks like it will start to breathe.
I needed a stand for all my AV components. Normally these are in a TV stand of some kind, but I use a projector mounted to the ceiling so nothing store-bought would work. I made a stand about 36" tall with an oversized top with a shaker undercut to make the top look thinner. I should have made the legs thinner, I think they are about 1/2" too thick. The shelves are adjustable with movable shelf supports and are made from plywood with poplar banding around the edge.
The project was stained with a walnut stain - minwax, I believe. I then gave it three coats of a water-based polyurathane, sanding between each. the last coat was rubbed down with steel wool. The final coat was with Renissance Wax, which makes the wood feel silky to the touch, and adds a little additional protection. I should hit it with another coat of wax. I will see about taking a picture and posting it when I get home.
I picked up woodworking because I always knew I would need to work the rest of my life. I was too late into saving for retirement, and I knew I would go nuts if I didn't have a job. So I figured I could become a furnituremaker and make one of a kind, high end furniture for the rich once I retired from the "real" job. Lately the "real" job has been preventing me from enjoying my hobby, but hopefully soon that will end.
I just got to figure out how to get my tablesaw to fit into my bugout bag!
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
One guy was selling Sthil chainsaws for short money, but I have one so I had to pass. There were several vendors selling fresh fruit and veggies. They even have a little food truck for burgers and hot dogs now. And there were TONS of people. It was a nice day, but there were many more people than usual, about 3x as many.
I have been very frugal of late. I'm worried about the job, and I want to be ready to take advantage of any pile of ammo that becomes available. Plus, I have more junk in my house than I need so it's time to cut down on the crap in the house.
There are a few items I am always looking for. I want more mortise chisels for my woodworking.I need a scorp, and an adze. I also want to get the wooden molding planes, but they tend to be real pricey. I needed a small kitchen table. And finally, I need a twin bed for the guess bedroom for when by buddies crash at my place when their wives are being a pain.
I was digging through one vendors table when I came across a kerosene lantern. He wanted $6, I got it for $4. I found two others in even better shape, and got those for $4 each too. So now I have 3 kerosene lanterns to add to my preps. Two have wicks, but checking online, additional wicks are about 50 cents each.
After doing some research at home, these lanterns should last forever, just need to replace wicks. Kerosene has an indefinite shelf life as long as it doesn't have water in it. I plan on stopping by the local hardware store for some. Now the big deal with these lanterns is NOT to burn anything but kerosene or clear lamp oil in them. Dyed stuff will gum up the wick. If you try to burn gasoline, paint thinner, etc your going to blow yourself up, so don't try it.
All told, for about $30 bucks I have plenty of light for post-SHTF. Turns out you can get a decent lantern on amazon.com for $9. Considering just one of my coleman propane lanterns was $90, plus $3 a propane cylender every 5-6 hours on low, kerosene lanterns are the way to go. Although my expensive lantern is as bright as an arclight when on full, but the tank lasts only 90 min.
Oh yeah, I did get a small kitchen table for $10. :) I love the flea market.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
I an not a trekkie. I like the original and especially the Next Generation. Deep Space 9 was boring, Voyager was an excellent idea but it jumped the shark very early. Enterprise was a clusterfuck from the start. I consider myself more of a sci-fi fan than any particular show or series.
Having said that, I loved it.
It had a very good story, and made it abundantly clear that this is a separate timeline, an alternate reality from the original show. Unlike the original series the acting in this was top notch. Zachary Quinto delivers an amazing performance that will get forgotten around Oscar time.
The series is updated to what we would think the future would look like, not what someone in the 60's would think. Inside jokes like the "red shirt" kiss of death were kept. The story is a well-balanced mix of story, drama, and action. Yes, you can bring a girl on a date to it and still have a decent chance of getting some.
I am looking forward to the next one.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Banging on the door with the bat because his arms were loaded with stuff, he was eventually greeted with a meek “Who is it?”
“It’d FEMA, open up!”
The door tentatively opened a crack, and Natog just pushed it open. Sprawled on the ground was Mary, and Al looked positively fierce brandishing a wine bottle.
“Here use the bat, it will do a better job.” Natog stepped over the sprawled Mary and dropped his load of supplies off on the table as Mary squawked in indignation.
Al put the bottle on the table, “What’s this? And Who is Feemah?”
Natog replied as he helped Mary to her feet, “Federal Emergency Management Agency, you know the bad guys. This is some supplies I had extra I know you crazy kids could use.”
“Oh he brought toilet paper! Natog, I’m going to marry you!”
Al picked up the wine bottle, “I think it’s time for a domestic, now that the cops are busy!” and playfully grabbed at Mary. She scampered off with the rolls of TP toward the bathroom.
Natog grabbed the bottles of ice and put them in the fridge. “These will help it stay cool, and the water in them is safe to drink.”
Mary stepped back in the room, “Natog take off your coat and stay a bit. What’s going on?”
Natog pulled off his coat, and draped it over a chair. He was pulling another chair out to sit on when Mary asked “What’s that?” pointing at his pistol.
Natog looked ashamed, “You’re right, I should have asked before entering your home with a weapon. Well, besides the baseball bat.”
Al looked like he didn’t know what to say, “It’s ok… I guess.”
“Thanks. That reminds me, never, ever open the fucking door until you know who’s out there. Dumbasses.”
Al looked indignant, “I had a weapon!”
“Pfft. That’ not a weapon, that’s a fucking beverage. Keep that little league bat handy. Just hit them in the head until they stop twitching. Just pray they don’t have a fucking gun, and, more importantly, know how to use it.”
“In that instance is shitting yourself and prayer a good plan?” Al joked.
Smiling, Natog replied, “Better than no fucking plan at all!”
Mary gave a disapproving look, “You two swear like sailors!”
Al laughed, “Worse, we are IT guys!”
Natog looked shocked, “Fuck is not a swear, it’s a punctuation mark!”
The three friends went on for another 20 minutes or so. It was good to unwind after the hectic day before. Al looked refreshed, and didn’t look too worse for wear. Natog figured he still had beauty supplies for another month.
After a particularly raunchy joke from Mary, Natog started getting up. “I got to get going guys. I’d like to get to Mum’s before dark.”
Mary and Al got up when Natog did. Mary asked, “So why is that Federal-thingy the bad guys?”
Natog pulled on his coat, “Well technically, they aren’t but they like to stuff people in camps where they can be controlled, and food and water distribution is centralized.”
Al looked confused, “But isn’t that a good thing?”
Natog slowly shook his head. “Not in my book, if you are in a camp, you have little to no rights, and little to no freedom. First thing they do is disarm you, and then you are at the mercy of those that are bigger and stronger than you are.”
“Oh” was all they had to say.
“It gets worse. People like me who rather stay in our homes will be forcibly moved into the camp. They did that in Katrina to people who were high and dry and had plenty of food and water. To me a FEMA camp is death.”
Al and Mary exchanged glances. Al spoke up first, “Hey, I really appreciate what you have done for us.”
“No problem man, you two stay safe. If I can I’ll check in from time to time.”
Natog made his way to his Jeep dodging snowballs from the first floor’s tenant’s kids. After climbing into the truck, Natog paused for a moment and hoped FEMA wouldn’t come to town. Turning the ignition, Natog pulled out into the snowy street, and made his way towards Rt 79 South. Mum would be worried about him, more than he was worried about her and Bill, his brother.
Route 79 was more of a country road than a highway. It meandered though Lakeville and other small towns towards Fall River. At Route 118 Natog started towards New Bedford. Both New Bedford and Fall River were mill towns that never recovered from the loss of textile jobs to the south after the civil war.
Higher crime, high unemployment, and poor education plagued both cities throughout the 70’s to 90’s. That had turned around by 2000, but the crime had moved underground with the rise of the Latin Kings, MS 13, Bloods, and Crips. New Bedford was always worse off with a large fishing fleet shackled by new government policies. The fishing fleet provided an easy route for narcotics to enter the country.
Right in the middle of this were the communities of Dartmouth, Westport and Tiverton. Mum lived in the south of Dartmouth, in the village of Padanaram. Natog’s parents bought the house in the 60’s long before the influx of rich tourists bought up all the land, turning it into subdivisions. To get to the south of Dartmouth, Natog would have to cut through New Bedford.
From 79 he hopped onto 140 South, a true divided highway. There were some tire tracks in both directions. It must have been less than a score of cars on the roads. Route 140 ended smack dab in-between Dartmouth and New Bedford. The north of Dartmouth was heavily commercialized, and bared no resemblance to the rural, agricultural south of the town. Mum was politically active and wanted to separate Padenaram from the northern half of the town politically. She wasn’t a very popular person in town, although the selectmen gave her respect while trying to shoo her out of the meetings.
140 ended at route 6, in a very busy intersection on the corner of Buttonwood park. As Natog drove past the dark traffic lights he could see kids everywhere in the park. Adults wandered among the children having snowball fights, pulling sleds behind themselves, and generally having a good time. As he made his way through the back streets to Slocum Road, he had to pull over for a cop with his lights on leading three power company trucks.
Taking his time, Natog made a detour to follow the trucks. The fresh tracks in the snow from the dual tires made it easy. After a mile, he knew where they were headed. There was a power distribution site a few miles down the road.
Sure enough, the trucks were pulled up with the gates open to the site. The power company guys were walking around piles of charred slag that were once transformers. Slowing down to check out the situation, the cop noticed and started yelling something at Natog.
With a wave, Natog resumed his trip to Mums. Twisting down the unplowed roads he occasionally had to drive around some branches in the road. Here and there people were seen trying to get a car started, or shoveling their driveway.
As he pulled up to Mum’s he could see his brother’s truck in the driveway, along with his Mum’s Mini Cooper. The Mini had its hood open and it looked like Bill was screwing around with it.
Bill looked up from the Mini when Natog pulled in. As Natog tried to get out of the Jeep Bill tackled him into the snow.
“Damnit, you asshole!” cried Natog as he wrestled his brother in the snow.
“Fuck you man, we were worried sick. We thought you were stuck in Boston.”
Right on cue, Mum burst out of the kitchen door, “Natog! Thank Christ! I was worried sick!”
Natog managed to get to his feet in time to get bear hugged by all 5’3” of Mum. “Natog, do you have any idea how worried I was…” Mum rambled on while the three of them walked to the kitchen door.
Entering the kitchen, with its perpetual smell of home cooking and wood smoke, the family naturally gathered around the wood stove to warm up. Mum still heated half the house with wood, it was cheaper than the gas furnace used in the rest of the house. Mum had a pot of water on the wood stove for tea, evidently the gas lines didn’t have pressure.
Mum made tea while Natog told of his long walk from Boston with Al. Mum was wondering how some of the cars were working, because none of the cars in the area were. Turns out, Bill was out on the cape with his on-again, off-again wife. Somehow his truck was ok, and he got back late last night.
Natog brought the tote of food in and unloaded its contents onto the kitchen table while Bill filled the wood bin next to the kitchen wood stove. Turns out Mum had made a batch of her famous spaghetti sauce on the weekend, so there was plenty of sauce.
It wasn’t until well after dark that Natog got back on the road again. Even though Mum had made sauce, he left the sauce so she could drop it off to some elderly friends in the area. The two brothers brought as much wood inside as it could fit, and refilled the wood rack outside with whatever wood they could find and cut with Mum’s beat up chain saw. The blade was as dull as a fart, so the boys had to be very careful not to maim themselves with it.
Mum and Bill had homework assignments to pack up bug-out-bags for themselves. Natog had given them the assignment at least a half-dozen times in the last six months, but they never got around it. It took a heated discussion about what would happen with a chimney fire with no firemen on the way to save the house to get them finally on board.
It was stressed to Bill to conserve fuel at all costs. Luckily, Bill had ¾ of a tank, and the dead Mini had about half a tank. Natog promised to bring his chainsaw the next time he came down so they could cut more wood. Mum went through about 5 cords of wood a year, but that was with the gas furnace to help out. Without that the wood would go much faster. She only had about a quarter of a cord, she had placed an order a week ago, and it wasn’t delivered yet.
There was plenty of woods behind her lot, and across the street that was owned by out-of-towners. Bill and Natog had ventured in there to cut felled trees here and there over the years when economic times were tough. No sense in letting good wood rot when it could heat their house.
The plan was to stick it out for another three days, and then Natog would come down again to cut wood. By then, they hoped, news should be circulating around about what was going on. How widespread the outage was, what the government was going to do about it, and by that point people would begin running low on food, and they can see the police response to any increased violence and crime.
Bill had his Class A, and had already purchased a small arsenal. The frankenFAL, a beat-up looking but quite functional FN-FAL in .308 with three magazines, a S&W M&P .45ACP handgun. Mum had applied for her Class A license and Natog and Bill bought her a Thompson .22LR rifle for her birthday. Bill got a great deal on a 9mm handgun, and bought that so he could transfer it to Mum once her license came in. The problem was they both liked to shoot – a lot. Bill had only 60 rounds of .308 ball ammo, a box and a half of .45ACP ammo, only 20 rounds of 9mm personal protection rounds, and 20 or so .22LR rounds.
Bill carried his .45 everywhere, but since Mum had no license she was unable to carry it legally. They came up with the idea that the 9mm would be unlocked and out, but if the cops showed up for whatever reason it would be tossed into the gun safe. Mum wouldn’t leave the house with it.
It was late after a spaghetti dinner with garlic bread roasted over the wood stove that Natog tossed the empty tote into the back of the jeep and climbed in for the ride home. As Natog made his way back to Middleboro, he ran through his mind what Bill had reminded them of during dinner.
A month ago, Alex Berger, an old friend of Bill’s had come forth and admitted that the farm he owned in Maine was a survival retreat for his family. The family was loaded, and the farm, which was a hobby of the son’s was a fully functional and nearly self-sustaining farm in the middle of Maine. The nearest city, Skowhegan was quite a ways from anywhere. Bill had spilled the beans about his “survivalist brother” to the Berger family when up in Maine doing handywork for Alex around the farm. Alex’s mother Karin had been shooting with Natog and Bill a few times. She was Mum’s age and Mum found it surprising that Karin was such an avid shooter. It was Karin who convinced Mum to get her class A, so “all the kids wouldn’t hog all the fun.”
The biggest problem for the Bergers was after Alex rolled up his entire inheritance into the farm was they didn’t have enough resources to protect it if they had to. Bill explained to Natog that December morning that it was his proficiency with his .308 bolt-action rifle, and his ability to hand-load ammunition that convinced Karin that Bill and Natog would be a good fit for them. Bill was approached a week later and told that the three of them were given an open invitation to go to the farm if the shit hit the fan. Mum was never told about this until this very night at dinner.
Bill was emphatic that they should pack everything up and head out to Maine the very next morning. That Karin and whatever children she had were going to head to Maine ASAP. Mum and Natog were not convinced. No one knows how bad the situation is yet, and to just abandon their homes was crazy. Natog knew there was no way he could fit all his stuff onto his Jeep and trailer that he would want to take with him. Just in hand tools alone there must have been a half a ton of supplies.
In the End, Mum put her foot down. “I didn’t work and starve and scrape every dime I had to pay the fucking mortgage on this house just to leave when the power goes out! We made it trough he Blizzard of ’78 and untold hurricanes. I am NOT leaving this house for some fantasy-land in Maine!”
Bill was going to swing by the Bergers the next day to see if they had left already. And if they hadn’t, find out when.
It must have been well past midnight when Natog pulled the Jeep into his garage and locked the door. Making his way into the dark house, he let Thor and Loki out for a while after feeding them, then crawled back into the rack after letting them back in the house.
On June 8th, Cisco will replace GM and Travelers will replace Citigroup. I'm in the IT industry, and Cisco is one of the heavyweights. I fully expect a huge jump in the average when this takes place.
The average sheeple would just see the jump, not the reasons why and just figure this
You, dear reader, need to stay on top of these shenanigans. We need to educate those sheeple to see the lies. Not just the big lies but the little ones as well. We should not be afraid of our government the government should be afraid of us. Afraid of the light of Truth. Afraid for their jobs. Someone turned on the lights and the politicians scurry off like the cockroaches they are.
Yesterday, I had a day off to fight a ticket in court. The officer from the local PD that represents the town for all the tickets was drunk. Like fucking hammered. A disgrace. Well at least he's only driving drunk to and from the court, instead of a whole shift, right?
I understand there is a brotherhood between police officers, as there should be. But a real brother would get the guy help, not stuff him off to court to continue to be disgrace the department, and a danger to the community.
I did stop by bass pro shop, since I had the rest of the day off. I picked up some new shoes, and they had a butchering kit for $14. It's just the knives and such, but it's all in a case and it was cheap. I tossed it in with my camping preps. If I do run off to the woods, at least I have what I need to butcher the big game.
They also had boxes and boxes of 9mm Luger. It was FMJ, but since it has been so scarce, and Mum has been shooting the 9mm, I bought 10 boxes. I'll stash 5 boxes at my place, and give the other 5 for her use. I have a box of personal protection ammo for her once she has her LTC. (Right now, the gun is in my brother's name, and we will do the legal transfer once Mum has her license. Obviously, she is not in possession of it unless she is at the range with myself or my brother. So it's 100% legal guys! No, seriously, we are 100% legal, I'm not losing my LTC by making a mistake.)
I did find out some about why ammo and reloading supplies are so short. Turns out the federal budget is up on July 1st. So all the big agencies have been loading up with whatever they have left in their budgets. So 90%+ of every ammo maker's stock has been getting sold to the DHS, ICE, FBI, DOD, and all the other alphabet soups. What's left then goes to state police, then to municipal police suppliers. What little is left we get. We should see the markets return to normal for ammunition by the end of the summer, once the existing orders have been filled.
Now the reason why these agencies are buying ammo by the factory load is for two reasons. First, their budgets are up so they need to spend the money or lose it. Secondly, ammo will go up in price next year, and we can expect all the budgets to be reduced. Most are figuring a 33% reduction in budget because these agencies know the fed cannot keep printing money and the DoR (Day of Reckoning) is coming. Since ammo doesn't go bad it's better to stock up now and then the budget cuts don't cut as sharply.
Hopefully this puts some of the fears to rest. One guy was telling me Blackwater was buying it all to fight a revolutionary war once our economy collapses and put the neo-cons in charge. I hope not, they are just as crazy as the liberal moon-bats.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
The problem is we are like the inmates in Dachau, except we cannot see the concentration camp. Make no bones about it we are working and toiling not for our own freedom, but for the freedom of the Looters, for the welfare state, for the military-industrial complex. Now before everyone puts on their tin-foil hats, I haven't bought into the conspiracy theory just yet.
The progressives want "Social Justice." From my point of view it means I work to give a handout to others. That's a crock of poop. Human beings are a low-entropy creature. In other words, if left on their own they would gradually settle to a lower-energy state. So, if you make it so they don't have to work, they won't.
I don't even have a clue to what social justice is. I'm a white male (Actually, I'm Cherokee but I'm white as wonderbread so for this argument, let's go by outward appearance.) To me it means I have to work harder to get a job than a female, or a minority to get a job. Companies get all kinds of perks for hiring minorities. Now I got to work ten times as hard to compete against a minority female. So to mean social justice, for me, is the end of affirmative action. To someone else it means something completely different. Companies will hire a lesser qualified minority applicant just because whatever tax breaks or quotas they meet are worth it.Working for the welfare state makes you a slave, not free. If you work for yourself, and for your own benifit, then work can really set you free. I want to be free. I want to be free from outrageous taxes, free from carrying the dead weight of the unwilling worker. Free from a union that is out to preserve the status quo. So I need to find a Midas Mulligan who is setting up an Atlantis and sign up. Or, I need to get the cash to become Midas myself.
So work will make you free. You just have to know who your working for - yourself and your family. You work your ass off until you can throw off the yoke that is choking you. The hardest thing will be to keep your eyes on the prize. I'm having trouble with that these days. I don't know if America will go tit's up tomorrow or next week. I just want to be ready just in case. In the meantime we need to put up a fight for our country. Work will set you free, so work for the political changes it will take to throw these assholes out of power. You cannot bank on a collapse, so we need to cover all angles by working towards political change now!
It's like your buying land in Arizona hoping California will slip into the ocean. If it happens you got prime real estate, but you cannot bet the farm on it our odds are you are going to lose. We cannot sit idly by while the progressives, the "modern liberals" run this country into the shitter. If we do not make an honest attempt at trying to fix it, then we are no better than the golden horde as it rampages around. The blood of the innocent sheeple will be on our hands.
I'm on the prowl for another tea party for the 4th of July. I'll see about starting one if it already isn't in the works.
Monday, June 1, 2009
The book is fundamentally changing my consciousness and how I perceive the world and the role of government. I'm not going to go into much detail about the book, because I think everyone should read it for themselves.
The question I have is this: Can we somehow make our own Atlantis somewhere? And the follow-up is this: How? Every time I look at my paycheck and see how much is gobbled up by the socialist machine. My hard-earned money taken to fight a war I do not support in Afghanistan, to continue a war with no exit strategy in Iraq. To feed and give cars to those who don't want to get jobs. Money I earn encourages people to have as many children as possible so they get more welfare money.
My hard-earned money goes to pork projects like libraries for drunken senators. A quarter of a million for Obesity research. 750M for a bus terminal in Fall River and another half billion for one in New Bedford.
It is mind boggling to me how much better I would have done for myself if I invested that money. Even with the stock market as bad as it is I would have had a heck of a lot more of a retirement than I do now. Even with an act a simple as putting extra $ towards the house, I'd be better off.
It is infuriating to me how wasteful the government is. What do I expect from the federal government? Defense of our borders. Protect me from fraud. Investigate inter-state crime and prosecute and punish the guilty. Act as a supporting framework for the states. Provide a common currency. Maintain and promote American History and science. Maintain a national archive and museums. (Library of Congress, Smithsonian) Provide a national registry for patents. An intelligence agencies) to provide our military with what it needs to raise hell and to defend us. A tariff and taxation division to charge import and export tariffs to help fund the government and to give Americans an edge if they can produce it locally. A common level of business responsibility for the chemicals used, workers safety, realistic emissions control and monitoring - no you cannot dump toxic waste into a river.
In addition to defense of our borders we need a volunteer military that is competently trained and properly equipped to let us do whatever ass-whuppin we need. Let's face it, some meatball somewhere is going to fuck with us, so we need to put such a beat down on them that the next crazy bastard picks on China or Russia instead.
All of these things can be done better without the layers and layers of bureaucracy. Nationally, the Personal Income Tax would go away. Most corporate taxes would go away. This frees up a LOT of money for charity, to get your own retirement, to pay for your own health insurance. Business would hire more workers, more money would flow from consumers to American companies and products. Which hire more workers, so on and so forth.
At this point I am so tired all I want to do is be free. Not the illusion of freedom I'm fed by mass media but true freedom. Freedom to make it or break it on my own. If there is a Midas Mulligan out there? Need someone to scrub a floor, to do landscaping or dig ditches until I save up enough to start a woodworking business?