Facebook a**holes

This is why I’m not on FB.  My wife’s engaged in an argument regarding gun control that’s been rolling since last night – Some jerk (one of those whose self esteem hinges on winning arguments on the Internet) is snarking at her about why the 2A should be repealed…I read his posts this morning and sent my wife this via email:

Just put each link in a separate post (not the text of the article, just the link to it), it will give him plenty to read.  These are the actual state and federal Supreme Court decisions over the second amendment (District of Columbia vs. Heller is the final say until some other jerk brings a case before the court).  And tell him I appreciate his decree as to what I am and am not entitled to [aside: She mentioned that she’d ask her wounded veteran, Infantry officer husband what he thought, and the jerk wrote a mini-article as to what I’m entitled to think / say), but I’ll defer to the Constitution and the Supreme Court for that rather than some guy on Facebook.

1. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Second_Amendment_to_the_United_States_Constitution#Meaning_of_%22well_regulated_militia%22

2. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Caetano_v._Massachusetts

3. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/McDonald_v._City_of_Chicago

4. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/District_of_Columbia_v._Heller

And here’s the killer argument from Ben Shapiro, one of the smartest political analysts out there:

5. https://www.nationalreview.com/2018/02/students-anti-gun-views/

Zuckerberg really has created hell on Earth for those who use it to argue politics, but I’ll be damned if I let some creep tell me what I should be thinking while I’m cleaning my .357 in my boxer shorts (sorry, that’s an awful image, I know) with my shrapnel scars in full view on my legs – Even if he’s not addressing me directly.

Good Morning!

I slept for a glorious five hours last night, no complaints.  After the morning’s exercise and ablutions I have a “honey-do” list the length of my arm to start on, and only 6 days to complete it…Busy busy busy.  Hope you and your families are all well and hale, this is the first day I’ve awakened without flu symptoms in a week (The Infantry god doesn’t hold with light duty or profiles, so I worked my way through that s*** – Whether or not I can do that at 60 remains to be seen).

Out here.

Me too

I read this morning that Capital One is no longer allowing transfers to coinbase.com – And when I tried from my own Federal Credit Union immediately after, they’ve blocked those transfers for weeks.

That explains the $250 extra in my checking account…My recurring investment into BTC is being blocked by the institutions that manage my money.

You saw that, right?  My money.  There’s an 80’s gangsta rap song about “Mess with my money you mess with my mind”…

Youtube (NSFW)

What right do these institutions have to limit where I can invest my own money, be it BTC or elephant manure?  None.  None whatsoever.  Now, I’m in the STEM field, I’ll figure out a way to purchase and hold BTC (probably even better than Coinbase), but I won’t be doing it through the credit union I’ve belonged to since 1986, or any other financial institution that thinks they have the right to determine where I may spend my own money.

You boys just lost a 31-year client over that little decision – I hope you lose thousands more.

Yeah, more ditto

A Date That Should Live in Infamy

In February 19, 1942 — seventy-four years ago today — Franklin Delano Roosevelt signed Executive Order 9066. With the stroke of his pen, the man who had earlier snubbed Jesse Owens after the Berlin Olympics used his executive powers to order the imprisonment of over 100,000 persons of Japanese ancestry (as well as thousands of German and Italian ancestry) for the duration of World War II.


Most of the internees were natural-born American citizens, whose “crime” was having a parent or merely a grandparent with Japanese blood. It was an act of naked, aggressive racism that damaged people and families, including my own, for generations.

For those who leak tears at the thought of Gitmo, print this out and use it for tissue.  Perhaps, by osmosis, you’ll come to understand that allowing enemy intelligence / forces to roam unheeded within your borders or go back to their place of origin for more training and another deployment isn’t such a great idea.

You know, as a retired Field Grade (barely – I retired as a Major, those four years in the Guard and ten years in the USAR are the only reasons I got that gold oak leaf) Infantry officer…The lowest of the low, I feel as if I could spend a week writing a brief on why Gitmo isn’t a goat f*** and convince Congress to issue a statement that would immediately halt all of the sniffling and crying amongst those who hate Gitmo simply because they hate George W. Bush.

But why bother?  Sulu (George Takei) has formed his Brigades, our government isn’t even ready for a Twitter counteroffensive, and one wounded veteran going off about the mouth on Capitol Hill isn’t going to change anything (that’s reserved for the Cindy Sheehan’s and Beau Bergdahl’s of this world).

14 more years until I collect my pension, then I’m never looking at a newspaper again.  In the meantime, at least I’ll be employed firing small arms 9-5 for those 14 years.

God grant me the strength to make it through them.


Andrew Klavan:

It was after a school shooting near Spokane last September that Spokane Sheriff Ozzie Knezovich addressed a clutch of reporters:

“When I was in high school, every one of those rigs in the high school parking lot had a gun in the gun rack. Why? [FickleGreen: Mine was a Ruger 10-22 with a cheap pawn shop scope – We hunted squirrels, not deer in Central Texas] We went hunting on the way home. None of those guns ever walked into a school, none of those guns ever shot anybody… Did the gun change or did you as a society change? I’ll give you odds it was you as a society. Because you started glorifying cultures of violence. You glorified the gang culture, you glorified games that actually gave you points for raping and killing people. The gun didn’t change, we changed.”

It seems clear to me the sheriff was speaking about rap music with its hateful, violent and misogynistic lyrics, and video games like Grand Theft Auto, where you can have sex with a prostitute then strangle her or pull an innocent person out of a car, beat him, then steal his vehicle.

I am a First Amendment purist and don’t want to see expression censored in any way. And I don’t argue that there’s a straight line between any specific cultural creation and bad acts. But surely, a culture in which those in authority approve of and argue for things like gangsta rap and GTA — and indeed for the use of violence to silence speech that offends them — well, such a culture becomes a machine for transforming madness into murder.

I am clearly dull-witted

We aren’t “high society” by any means…But as I showered this morning, Waylon’s “Luckenbach Texas (Back to the Basics of Love)”  (Youtube) came up on the playlist while washing my hair.

Epiphany.  Let me explain.

I’ve listened to that song probably thousands of times since freshman year of high school (Hey, I’m from Texas, and it was the 70’s…You either listened to C&W or KIXS on the FM dial, and the song was released that summer), just loving the tune and lyrics.  But from the perspective of a fellow who has completed one career and is fourteen years from completing another, the meaning of the lyrics one day come dreadfully to life:

There comes a point in a working person’s life when the realization that all of the weekends, late nights, and holidays sacrificed to get to the position one occupies have left one “comfortable” – But that having established the reputation of being that Type “A” personality who is shooting for Senior Vice President before retiring, there’s no halt to the sacrifices until that point is reached.

And when you reach it, then what?  My wife & I don’t fight like the Hatfield’s and McCoys, but I don’t think either of us, after thirty-one years of marriage, believe we’ve had the opportunity to spend as much time together as we like.  Me and my work, our raising three children (all now grown and gone), me and my VFW and American Legion and Homeowner’s Association Board of Directors and North Georgia Corps of Cadets Association Board of Directors and volunteer work with recently separated veterans, her and her mini-chicken farm, hobbies, and bill paying (yes, I, the only member of this household who’s ever been employed, live on an allowance, just shoot me)…Yeah, it got me where I am, with a heart attack along the way.

Wouldn’t I rather live in a small house in San Antonio or Austin, working a 9-5 job, and have all that time we’ve missed?  You bet.  But the values and discipline my father and the army bestowed on me never would have allowed that…They raised my expectations of myself so high that I’ll be reaching for the next rung on the ladder until I fall into the cremation pit.

It’s something to think on.  I’m afraid I and the army instilled the same values and discipline on my son, and I feel guilty about that.  My daughters are free spirits who are just as happy crashing on a friend’s couch for a couple of months to save money for something they want, and they are expert at lowering their expectations – A trait I’m envious of.

If I had it to do again, knowing what I know now, I think I’d live life differently.  Impossible to know, of course, but I like to think that I would.  Of course, like every other major rumination I come across, it’s too late to change things now…But perhaps a discussion on the matter with my kids, and my grandkids, is in order.

You don’t have to make first string, or cross the finish line first, you just have to make the team.  File that among the many things I wish I’d learned long ago.


I have 8 days to prepare for a move to a temporary (company provided) apartment for 4 weeks, preceded by a week in Tampa inventorying and mapping the data center.  Don’t want my 120 new employees to think I don’t know my a** from a hole in the ground when talking to them about load balancing, firewall, SLA upload / download and page load times, number of blades, number of VMs, what each blade and VM is responsible for, what OS it’s running, what the licensing status of all of the software is, etc.

Being me, when I get to Tampa on the 25th, I’ll do a leader’s reconnaissance of the route from my hotel to the office so that I don’t get lost on my first day of work – I’ll repeat that exercise on March 4th when I arrive in Boston for my stay in the temporary apartment (I say my stay because my wife will have to remain here to handle the movers when they arrive and go through all the rigamarole of putting the house on the market – We’re going to be separated for five weeks, which I’m not looking forward to, but I believe she may be).

The office has a gym, thank goodness, no more maintaining a gym at home to get my workouts in (I refuse to pay for a health club / gym).  If I know myself, I’ll buy a bunch of turkey lunch meat, some 100% whole wheat bread, a bottle of mustard, and a few TV dinners, I’ll just eat that stuff and pocket the per diem to pay for my Grand Marnier and “Cafe Latte” flavored vape e-juice (plug for drvapeit there) (that stuff almost makes vaping as expensive as smoking, but I’ll do without the carcinogens and tar, TYVM).

There’s an iOS app that tells one the best route to take when jogging, that’ll take care of not getting lost during my morning runs (Can you tell I’ve been concerned with getting lost since Military Science III in 1985?  To be an Infantry officer one must be as intimate with land navigation as one is with one’s significant other, and I knew I was going to be an Infantry officer by 1985 – You don’t spend 4 years in an Infantry National Guard unit and have much of a shot to be branched anything else at commissioning, so typical of me, I was making and running my own land nav courses in the mountains of North Georgia and running them, and taking every opportunity I could to run the Yankee Road land nav course at Fort Benning).

In the meantime I’m packing my home office (can’t let the movers do that or I’ll never find anything when we get up North), making minor repairs around the house, and doing what I can to prepare for the new job.

It’s havoc around here, and I have no dogs to let fly to assist me (See: “Cry havoc, and let loose the dogs of war!”)

That is why blogging has been sparse, which may actually be a good thing..I’m building up so much blog-fodder in my brain that I’ll no doubt write 500-word posts for weeks when settled in.  Until then be well – I’ll see you as soon as I can…we all know I’m going to sneak a post in whenever I can from Tampa and Boston, I’m addicted now.