I can dig it. I’ve been doing this for over nine years, and my enthusiasm for it waxes and wanes.
It’s waning as of late, but I’m sure a wax is just around the corner.
Do what you need to, Tam. We can wait.
For the record, I like Nick. He’s a nice guy and unlike the other alleged people writing for TTAG, he’s a heck of a shooter and knows what he’s talking about when it comes to guns. I take his opinions on guns seriously because of his experience.
An expertise in guns does not translate into a bully pulpit to attack other gun writers by name.
At this point, he’s pretty much burned his bridges with the rest of outdoor industry media outside of TTAG.
If only he had read this post from last week, he might have avoided himself a world of trouble.
…there’s probably somebody in this world who has the power to hire you for your dream job, open some door for you, make some extraordinary opportunity happen. Let’s call that person your “empowering person.”
You don’t know who this empowering person knows. You probably don’t know who all of their friends are, who all of their relatives are, who their spouse’s friends are. If one of those people knew you, liked you, and thought well of you, you would be much closer to getting that empowering person to help you achieve your dream. This is even better than references; these are endorsements.
As the Second-Greatest Philosopher of the 20th Century once said, “Always be nice, until it’s time to not be nice.”
Some lessons are easier to learn than others.
I went into a public- ‘ouse to get a pint o’ beer,
The publican ‘e up an sez, “We serve no red-coats here.”
The girls behind the bar they laughed an’ giggled fit to die,
I outs into the street again an’ to myself sez I:
O it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ “Tommy go away”;
But it’s “Thank you, Mister Atkins,” when the band begins to play-
The band begins to play, my boys, the band begins to play,
O it’s “Thank you Mr Atkins,” when the band begins to play.
I went into a theatre as sober as could be,
They gave a drunk civilian roo, but ‘adn’t none for me;
They sent me to the gallery or round the music-’alls,
But when it comes to fighting’, Lord! They’ll shove me in the stalls!
For it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ “Tommy wait outside”;
But it’s “Special train for Atkins,” when the trooper’s on the tide-
The troopship’s on the tide, my boys, the troopship’s on the tide,
O it’s “Special train for Atkins,” when the trooper’s on the tide.
Yes, makin’ mock o’ uniforms that guard you while you sleep
Is cheaper than them uniforms, an’ they’re starvation cheap;
An’ hustlin’ drunken soldiers when they’re goin’ large a bit
Is five times better business than paradin’ in full kit.
Then it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ “Tommy ‘ow’s yer soul?”
But it’s “Thin red line of ‘eroes” when the drums begin to roll-
The drums begin to roll, my boys, the drums begin to roll,
O it’s ” Thin red line of ‘eroes,” when the drums begin to roll.
We aren’t no thin red ‘eroes, nor we aren’t no blackguards too,
But single men in barricks, most remarkable like you;
An’ if sometimes our conduck isn’t all your fancy paints,
Why single men in barricks don’t grow into plaster saints;
While it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ “Tommy fall be’ind,”
But it’s “Please to walk in front, sir,” when there’s trouble in the wind-
There’s trouble in the wind, my boys, there’s trouble in the wind,
O it’s “Please to walk in front, sir,” when there’s trouble in the wind.
You talk o’ better food for us, an’ schools, an’ fires, an’ all:
We’ll wait for extry rations if you treat us rational.
Don’t mess about the cook-room slops, but prove it to our face
The Widow’s Uniform is not the soldier-man’s disgrace.
For it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ “Chuck ‘im out, the brute!”
But it’s “Saviour of ‘is country” when the guns begin to shoot;
An’ it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ anything you please;
An’ Tommy ain’t a bloomin’ fool – you bet that Tommy sees!
Over the last few years I’m getting bombarded with questions about how to send ‘don’t @#$! with me’ signals without having what makes those signals work. “How do I warn someone that I’m ready to rip his face off?” “Uhhh by being ready to rip his face off…”
One of my favorite poems, and it just so happens to be about the Lee-Enfield.
LESSONS OF THE WAR
To Alan Michell
Vixi duellis nuper idoneus
Et militavi non sine gloria
I. NAMING OF PARTS
To-day we have naming of parts. Yesterday,
We had daily cleaning. And to-morrow morning,
We shall have what to do after firing. But to-day,
To-day we have naming of parts. Japonica
Glistens like coral in all of the neighboring gardens,
And to-day we have naming of parts.
This is the lower sling swivel. And this
Is the upper sling swivel, whose use you will see,
When you are given your slings. And this is the piling swivel,
Which in your case you have not got. The branches
Hold in the gardens their silent, eloquent gestures,
Which in our case we have not got.
This is the safety-catch, which is always released
With an easy flick of the thumb. And please do not let me
See anyone using his finger. You can do it quite easy
If you have any strength in your thumb. The blossoms
Are fragile and motionless, never letting anyone see
Any of them using their finger.
And this you can see is the bolt. The purpose of this
Is to open the breech, as you see. We can slide it
Rapidly backwards and forwards: we call this
Easing the spring. And rapidly backwards and forwards
The early bees are assaulting and fumbling the flowers:
They call it easing the Spring.
They call it easing the Spring: it is perfectly easy
If you have any strength in your thumb: like the bolt,
And the breech, and the cocking-piece, and the point of balance,
Which in our case we have not got; and the almond-blossom
Silent in all of the gardens and the bees going backwards and forwards,
For to-day we have naming of parts.
Nevertheless, when my son’s fascination with military hardware, soldiers and guns developed, I worried. The idea of letting war toys (no matter how well-dressed) into the family home and into his innocent little psyche felt wrong.
“innocent little psyche”? Dude, you are aware you have a four year old boy in your house, right? It’s not a question of IF he breaks your rules, it’s only a question of when and how often he does so as he learns how to be an adult. (BTW, this is why I keep my guns locked up).
Beyond that fallacy about what is driving a child’s actions, banning guns pretty much insures your kid will not be able to safely interact with guns when they grow up, because we are not afraid of (nor are we unusually attracted to) the things we see every day: The familiar things of live are, well, FAMILIAR. To me, safely carrying a firearm is not an unusual event because I’ve made it a part of my daily routine, to others who have no experience with such things, it’s an act of a maddened killer or a raving paranoiac.
That last thought could not be further from the truth, but because people who have no experience with guns have no way to relate to carrying a gun as a part of life, they react out of fear. I’ve jumped out of airplanes and ridden a mountain bike through the Amazon. Was that scary at first? Yes, because shockingly, the opportunities to experience the rain forest are quite limited here in Arizona.
But once I did those activities and got used to them and understood how to do them safely, they weren’t scary anymore. My oldest son grew up around guns, and while he’s not interested in the shooting sports, he knows how to safely handle them (win). My youngest son IS interested in the shooting sports, and that’s also a win. They are not scared nor are they unusually fascinated by guns because we’ve taught them that guns are serious, but they’re also seriously fun.
My wife and I grew up near guns,and as such, we were immunized against hoplophobia at an early age. It’s a shame that the Dad in this story hasn’t learned that there are vaccinations out there to help himself and his family deal with the very real and very scary dangers of everyday life.
The New York Police Department is hearing from the citizenry, whether it wants to or not.
A seemingly innocuous call to action by the New York City Police Department backfired in extraordinary fashion Tuesday. In a tweet, the NYPD asked Twitter users to share pictures of them posing with a police officer with the hashtag “myNYPD.”
The responses came fast and furious — but they were likely not what the police department had in mind. In a flurry of digital defiance, scores of users uploaded images appearing to show potential police brutality and other unflattering behavior.
The people who serve and protect just got served. You’d think that in the 20+ years since the Rodney King video, the police would have figured out that if (not when, but if) they step over the line, they WILL be filmed doing it. With the advent of the internet and smartphones, we are now empowered to not just consume news wherever we are, but create it as well.
The deer now have guns. The people who once were victims are now empowered. 20 years ago, after the passage of the Assault Weapons Ban, if you had told people then that the AR-15 would become America’s most popular rifle and that any new gun control legislation would be laughed out of Congress, you’d be locked up and sent to the looney bin.
What’s gun ownership in America gonna look like 20 years from now? Damifino. Maybe we’ll have universal reciprocity, maybe not. Maybe the ridiculous laws over NFA weapons will be lifted, maybe not. I do know we have a generation who’s grown up playing Call Of Battlefield Honor (or whatever) and are accustomed to guns in a virtual world. They’ve also grown up playing airsoft and paintball and have Nerf guns that are more tactical than all of my father-in-laws hunting firearms put together.
Think they’re going to be happy living in Michael Bloomberg’s world? Me neither.
The judge said five to ten, but I say double that again
I’m not working for the clampdown
No man born with a living soul
Can be working for the clampdown
Kick over the wall ’cause government’s to fall
How can you refuse it?
Let fury have the hour, anger can be power
D’you know that you can use it?
The voices in your head are calling
Stop wasting your time, there’s nothing coming
Only a fool would think someone could save you
The men at the factory are old and cunning
You don’t owe nothing, so boy get running
It’s the best years of your life they want to steal
Punk is libertarian.
My mother-in-law passed away last week at the age of 89. She had been going slowly downhill for the last two years because of a major stroke, so if anything, this was a blessing, as she is free from the pain of this world right now. She was smart, loved learning and had a deep passion for animals. She was very, very proud of her collection of books and would talk about her most recent purchases whenever we visited her house.
And now, almost all her worldly goods are either in a bookcase in our house or in the bins at the VNSA waiting to be sold.
Would we give up all of those books of hers we now own for 10 more minutes with her (pre-stroke) self?
Losing a loved one who took pride in the things of this world puts all the other things into perspective. Yes, we keep some of the books she owned and pass them on to her grandkids in much the same way that my sons will inherit their grand-dad’s M1903, Remington 870 and S&W K22.
But it’s not the same as having them around us. As with anything else in this world, don’t get too caught up in the WHAT, concentrate on the WHY.
“You know, I wish I had time to buy a few more guns”, said nobody on their deathbed, ever.