Point Blank?

Sometimes it all goes to hell and you have to resort to this:


U.S. Army photo by Spc. Laura M. Buchta

Tibet

Usually in Seattle, I see "Free Tibet" bumper stickers. They live amongst other stickers that tell me that the car owner will never lift a finger to "Free" Tibet. More to it---they would actively oppose any US policy that would give the people of Tibet the tools to free themselves. Not that we would even try to give them tools.

The odds are that the people of Tibet will never be free, they will continue to be ethnically cleansed by the Han and other Chinese ethnic groups---just like countless other groups who had the misfortune to occupy land destined to be part of China over the past few thousand years---and the world will never complain too much. Someday, the Chinese people living in Tibet will be free; that I will predict.

No decisive battle will make the Tibet people free, only a long, long insurgency has a chance---and most insurgencies fail. Ten to fifteen years of frenetic anti-Chinese fighting would have to pass before success or failure could be determined.

If the people choose to do so, I say good luck to you. Also, I can give them the words of Winston S Churchill, slightly rewritten:

Death and sorrow will be the companions of your journey; hardship your garment; constancy and valor your only shield.

Bjork has done all she can by shouting your name at a concert in Shanghai, now blood will tell.

Terrible Day in History

No, not the attack on Iraq---that was a pretty good day on balance---I'm talking about Halabja.

This is the 20th Anniversary of the chemical attack (NBC) that defined all the attacks on the Kurds. You can read about it here and here.

As the latter article points out, it's also the 5 year anniversary of the effort to free Iraq of that same monster. The protesters will be against his "illegal" removal. She offers an award to anyone brave enough to carry a sign about the other anniversary.

My fav quotes:

On March 16, 1988, Iraqi warplanes bombed the Kurdish town of Halabja with chemical weapons including sarin and mustard gas, targeting civilians as part of the Anfal campaign to rid Iraq of its Kurds. Five thousand — three-quarters of them women and children — died from the chemical cocktail. Children trying to rush home fell in the street, while the insidious gasses claimed those who cowered in basements from what they thought was a traditional bombardment. Thousands were left with chemical burns, blindness, cancers, birth defects, etc.

and...

But as the war protesters take to the streets today, they won’t be terribly concerned with the genocide that should have made the international community bring Saddam to his knees. While busy painting the U.S. as the cruelest of warmongers, they won’t remember Halabja. To do so would give others the impression that taking out Saddam was, indeed, completely justified.

Chemical Ali, who left quite a paper and audio and video trail, will hang soon, but they never even got around to prosecuting him about this one.

Time to get back on the bike

Lately, I've been using a full face helmet. That makes the above mistake uncomfortably unlikely.

I think it's safer to just put ones shirt on backwards if you want people to believe you got your head turned around.

Never have ridden a scooter. When young, they were unbearably sissy things that had to stay in foreign films. Now, I would overwhelm them, looking silly in head to toe leather as garnish. So, I will shuffle off my mortal coil, like as not, without ever having experienced the thrill.

Vrrrooom!

Up for Spring

I've come out of my winter burrow and sniffed the air; I think it's safe to start blogging again.

More to the point, we've replaced the digital camera with a coolpix, which will hopefully be more reliable. The old one was reliable as long as it was taking pictures, but would conk out when it was inconvenient that it did so. Picture blogging should resume shortly.

Some catch-up posts to follow.

It's all relative

Strangely, in the paradise that is Venezuela, 33 people are killed by violence each day. Yet, Chavez rules a Bolivarian society of the greatest interest to Sean Penn, et al.

In the Iraq quagmire, the rate is only half as much. I suppose the right people are being killed down south or they count less than half as much as Iraqis.


You know, if I heard an IED go off, that's who I'd get behind too.

Never Trust the Narrative

Unless you are a military history buff (or practicing/theorizing professional) who has kept up in recent decades, or were there, you probably don't know anything about the Vietnam War. If you were paying attention to newspapers and television back in the day, you haven't got a clue. But the link above will point you in the right direction, and you won't even have to study up.

Now when someone tells you Iraq is another Vietnam you can tell them: Vietnam wasn't Vietnam, 'tard.

Bum Steer

OK, on the left is the old Swedish Military insignia and the new on the right. You may notice that something has been removed at the request of some female soldiers.




Now, I'm all for women soldiers. They do tough jobs. But I don't think that women soldiers are lions with their nuts cut off. They would more be lionesses with short manes trimmed for fighting and killing.





However, the symbolism of knackering the Swedish Military was too good to pass up evidently.

Over the years, I would expect to see that ol' knackered lion just get fat and happy.

"Why does everyone laugh when I roar?" The old-prune lion cried.

Signposts

The sign clearly indicates that one is not to bring guns into the public space beyond, even if one is legally entitled to do so. But some people just ignore the sign. They just want to shoot people, and it's best really if no one around can defend himself/herself. So, I'm sure the friendly signs were welcome to him. And maybe he was confused because the rifle he was carrying didn't really look much like the picture in the red slash. Anyway, the strategy works well because the sheep rarely look up.

There's a reason why you don't need to post keep-out signs around your average star system.

This is a sign of something. Polygamy would be much more manageable in heaven, of course.

And a sign that new (actually old) tactics are working in Iraq, are detailed (pdf) here.

What happened?

I follow events from Iraq and Afghanistan by reading blogs maintained by people there. That's because I like military history and I like to learn about what's happening in those terms. People reading our popular media may have been surprised that things are going well for the moment and war coverage has moved recently to page 19.

Well, here's a summary of what's been going on since June or so. Her regular site is here, with more background material.

I often read that there's "no military solution" in Iraq, but rarely the other true statement that there's "no political solution" there either.

It's the same here too, except instead of "kinetic" assets, political fighting uses earmarks and other legal corruption of the process. That's what we hope for in Iraq too. We want all these people fighting for their little piece of the federal budget in their own country and not murdering us where we sleep and work.

Scar

In my previous post, the HK 2000 SK, covers just a naughty bit of Britney and you, gentle reader, may be wondering why so little. Well, I wanted to leave her "bikini" scar. If she would just wear her bikini it would be completely covered. However, Britney is a mama twice over and I salute that. Granted her ex has enough money to drag her through court and take the kids away with an assist from the 24 hour coverage she gets and he doesn't.

But she gets the credit in my book. So I hope she finds a normal guy and makes some more. The world needs more babies and if Britney can take the time to do it, all the power girls can.

Full Disclosure: I need babies not to pay for my retirement a couple of decades from now...Britney, make sure you spend all their money so they have to work and don't just endow a bunch of tax dodges like the Kennedy clan.

Maybe, but it's a long shot

Victor Davis Hanson, VDH, makes a plea:

So the next six months of this war are critical, both for the Iraqis and for the very future of our country as well. Who knows, perhaps Fox News can spotlight and profile one of these rare officers each week, just one captain, major or colonel — and maybe just one less blond high school teacher frolicking with her students?

Or, everyone can just look at the latest one of these:



Oh my God! Britney's got a hot H&K P2000SK! Sweeeeet!

The Girl in the Glass Booth

In a time of plenty or want, someone, a shaman perhaps, led a party up a mountain. In tow were three special guests: a teenage girl, who probably counted as an adult woman, and two young children. They'd been given special dispensation to chew coca, officially only for the elite.

The three were dressed finely and the teenager had makeup to make her look even younger or more pleasing. The trio were plied with corn liquor to make them drowsy in the cold thin air and left in a cleft to die of exposure.

The mountain enveloped the three in a cold, airless embrace.

The remains of the two children are back in the lab getting studied, but the teen girl was judged to be of such transcendent quality that she was allowed to have visitors.

Only we look, she is remote, she is still given to the mountain. What do we see?

Farewell Beer Hunter

Michael Jackson, The Beer Hunter, has passed away.

I've sat with him at a table at the Great American Beer Festival, talking about beers from all over the world with passion and gusto. I was proud that he loved the beers we made at our brewery and trumpeted them on his web page and on Seattle radio show interviews. I felt like I'd let him down when our brewery went under.

At the GABF, I saw him diligently tasting beer and keeping notes all day, then drinking beer after hours with us brewer-folk, then saw him from outside the window as we limped back to our hotel room, leading a scotch tasting at the host hotel bar. Found out later there was spontaneous wine tasting until early hours after that. The next day, I saw him diligently tasting beer and keeping notes, working his way through many of the 400 plus beers on the festival floor. He was an inspiration.

He loved Belgian beers, as do I, though I've not tried as many as he.

He made a living writing about beer for 30 years. 'Nuff said.

Abbey brewers say that in Heaven there is no beer, that's why we drink it here. So:

Godspeed Michael, I'll do my best to help hold up this end---but I'll need some others to help out. A great spirit has risen from the earth, and we must fill in where we can.

Vacation in Tuva

Feynman famously wanted to go to Tuva, and Putin is taking his vacation there. It's amazing that the president of Russia would consent to having vacation snaps of him showing off his 6-Pak, but maybe more amazing that a former KGB head wears a crucifix.

Summer in Siberia seems pretty nice.

Match Analysis

If you win matches, like Rob Leatham, match analysis is pretty simple. In my case, I have to resort to statistics to see if I did well or not.

USPSA matches are free form and can be wild, but your classification is based on standard exercises. In the beginning, I was much better at the standard exercises (not everyone is) and so my rating outpaced my general match ability---still does in Limited 10. I shot Area 1 in Limited, however, and that big Division is a good test of how much I've improved in non-standard courses of fire (or not).

My rating is 53.57% and I shot 52.25% so that's 97.54%. There were seven Grand Masters, so my average will count as another classifier.

In summary, I didn't have a great match, but I shot almost to my ability measured over a year's length with standard exercises. I didn't let the pressure of the match get to me. In fact, I had to do a reshoot on a stage that I only was down a point on because of a timer/official error. I'd been reading some books before the tournament that stressed that the shooter should only have positive thoughts. I therefore focused on the opportunity to pick up that point. Amazingly, I picked up the point---an upper A-zone hit---and bettered my time. There may be something to this positive focus thing.

Chrono Spider Bites, Prez Vanishes

It's election time for USPSA, the shooting organization that will allow even me to join. The Prez is standing for election again with pretty stiff competition. So, I imagine he thought he should pop up to the Area 1 Championships and put on a good show to improve his elect-ability quotient.

Most of the big wigs just blow into town and do a shoot through, i.e. muscle on to squad after squad. Then, toss off a few hand smooches to the hoi poloi and head for the airport.

The Prez would have won too--looks great, he's winning matches, beating seven other Grand Masters, and leading our organization to greatness. But...he blew right by the chrono station...ooops. It's like he was never at the match. Those chrono-spider bites can be nasty.

Bye Bye Prez! Hope you pay more attention to detail when it comes to association business :).

Our other VIP shoot through did chrono and did win the match.

One of the other presidential candidates stayed through to the end, collecting proxies for the prize table so he could collect swag for the junior program. He was raking it in big time.

In other chrono-spider news, one of our club shooters went minor (scoring is less for off-hi-zone shots), but managed to win his class anyway. I guess if you're pure of heart, and accurate, the chrono-spider venom is not so deadly.

The group before us had a guy shooting 200 gr 0.45 bullets with a 223 power factor! No wonder we did ok---the poor chrono spider was still cowering in the dark hiding from the bad old hand cannon.

Roller Coaster

I get a star, because I'm special!

So, I'm back working nights in an even more rigorous burn-out schedule than last year. Now, I get at most three days on the same schedule before switching.

And not just to the next shift, but skipping shifts---going against my rolling internal clock.

It's sort of like walking into a museum and dropping into some artistic roller coaster.

Or maybe a gravity assisted hamster ride.











Where you spin down... down... down... to... something. I forgot.









It's a metaphor for something....wait.... it will come to me.

World Building

I would like the moon over that right peak please, and bring up the pink a little.

Gretchen, I'll have that Duvel now please.

OK, OK, less pink. How about violet fading to black at the top?

Angel Michael

He pulled this guy to safety, and kept on fighting the good fight. Now he's no longer on this good earth, but he's still with us. Saint or Angel? I would say Angel, because he brings us tidings of great joy.

Turn Left...First

One of the things course designers like to do is put you in starting positions that can put you out of your comfort zone. Like facing up range, with nothing but walls and closed windows behind you. This is at the Nationals, and I'm doing my best to stare down the spot behind and to the left of me where I'm going to run to. From that spot, I'll be able to see targets that will open one of the windows. Then, I'll be able to open the rest.

If I draw a split second too fast, the range officer staring at my gun will throw me out of the tournament. She didn't get me this time, but on another stage starting up range one of the shooters we meet regularly met his Waterloo. Ironically, I had warned him before the tournament to be very careful.

Opinions differ: someone close to him says he barely broke the 180-it was an over reaction by the ROs. Two people in his squad that I know (and that he didn't), told me that they'd looked up and "Holy S***, we're staring down the ports of his compensator."

One person DQ'd on the same stage by starting to load and make ready facing up range. The heat and pressure will do strange things to a person.

Happy 4th

I'm spending the 4th working, but here's an essay from Red Square to explain it all.

If you have trouble getting up in the morning or hitting the snooze button too much, you might consider this alarm clock.

Chrono of Doom

This time our squad faced the Chrono of Doom without any of our number going minor that wasn't declared minor. To be major, the velocity in feet per second times the weight of the bullet in grains divided by 1000 needs to be greater than 165. We had two at 165.5, whew. I was safely major.

You can see from the above chart, that a few people had monster power factors, some barely scooted by, and quite a few were bit by the chrono-spider, including at least one Open shooter on the Super Squad.
Slow bullets are caught by the spider, and remember Thou Shalt Not Whine.

Nationals Rush

What happens when the excitement of being in the Nationals hits ya? How about double tapping so fast your brass is only a few inches apart?

I didn't have any misses on this stage, but I ran into speed kills on another one. I zeroed my first field course ever. Go as fast as you can see--and no faster!

If you can't win, at least learn something. I learned a lot.

Don't be Standing There

I hope this is a remote camera behind plexiglass...