Post Turtle..

From somewhere deep in the interwebs comes this story.  I have no idea as to the original source but I have seen it a few times and thought you might like it:

While suturing up a cut on the hand of a 75 year old rancher, whose hand had been caught in the gate while working his cattle, the doctor struck up a conversation with the old man. Eventually the topic got around to Obama, and
his being our president.

The old rancher said, "Well, ya know, Obama is just a Post Turtle."

Now not being familiar with the term, the doctor asked, What’s a "Post Turtle?"

The old rancher said, "When you’re driving down a
country road and you come across a fence post with a turtle balanced on top, that’s a post turtle." The old rancher saw the puzzled look on the doctor’s face so he continued to explain.

"You know he didn’t get up there by himself, he doesn’t belong up there, he doesn’t know what to do while he’s up there, he sure as heck ain’t goin’ anywhere, and you just gotta wonder what kind of dumbass put him up there in the first place."

 

 

Long Winter…

In perhaps the best indicator of the fallacy of global warming, I’ve exceeded my monthly post count record with 22 posts (now 23) in February.   The cold weather has been good for something at least.

On another note, I managed to be placed into the enviable position of invoking a corollary of Godwin’s Law last night.

The corollary known as reductio ad klanum states simply that in online debates surrounding policies of the current president the first person to reduce the debate to race cedes the argument and admits defeat.  

I won’t repost the whole dreary mess but here’s the point where it went bad.  The question of the public option in healthcare was raised and the following ensued:

Liberal:

oooooooohhhhhhh! I get it now! Is that why it is called an "OPTION" ??????

jinksto:

One wonders… Is it still mandatory that you have insurance under this "new" plan that Obama has been working on in secret? Because if it is, it’s not an "option" if you are required to buy this because you’re too poor to afford Blue Cross.

The truth is that I hope there’s not a public option in this bill but we won’t know until "The One" chooses to reveal it to us.

We’ve said monopolies in three separate posts in this discussion as if they truly exist. Which monopolies? You’re repeating democratic rhetoric. There is no monopoly in the healthcare industry. It makes a good speech to say "these evil healthcare monopolies are eating your babies!" but there isn’t one. A monopoly is a single source of ownership or exclusive control of something. No one company in the healthcare industry has that. The last I checked there were 31 different companies that are providing major medical insurance in the USA. Are you saying that there are 31 different monopolies in the same industry?

( Note: I later learned that Obama HAS posted “his” plan in advance of the upcoming debate. It was a busy day at work, what can I say. His plan DOESN’T include a public option but… he supports it.  Nice that.)

Liberal:

I have learned long ago not to engage in a dialogue with someone who is set in his/her ways….As the old saying goes: "You can lead a horse to the trough, but you can’t make him dring" !

Let’s face it! It is really not so much about the plan itself as it is about "The One" who has proved that he cares so much about REAL AMERICANS than about Corporations and Blood Suckers! Period! The end!

jinksto:

I love that response. I get it a lot from people that lean to the left. When they find that their position is indefensible they tell me that *I* am impossible to reason with and hint that I’m a racist. Very nice. I"m not offended, I get that a lot.

"The One" is a narcissistic ass in my opinion but my dislike for him has more to do with his ultra liberal ideas about entitlement than his race. (I didn’t like Clinton either by the way but I thought Carter was cool because he was a farmer… I was 10 around then I think) I haven’t seen that Obama proved anything other than the fact that he’s a complete failure. The great uniter hasn’t united a single thing and has managed to drive us into record debt while drawing a hard line between the parties. You can rant about "Corporations" and "Blood Suckers" but you’ll need to provide proof beyond party rhetoric to ever get anywhere in an argument.

Liberal:

As I said: Never argue with someone who has his mind set! Because it doesn’t matter what facts or reason he/she is presented with…they are always discarded and replaced with rethorics… and by the way….better get your facts right…."The One" is not the one who claimed to be the "The Great UNITER"…. and he has not "ACCOMLISHED" his MISSION yet…after all he has to clean up 8 years of damage that was inflicted upon our country by those who cater only to the few, and who still haven’t gotten over the fact that this country is the country of all and every abiding citizen regardless of RACE, religion or origin!

(Origin?  Where the hell did that come from?)

jinksto:

While I appreciate your right to defend your position, you haven’t actually presented any facts. Until you do, I’m at a loss as to how to respond.

Since you’ve implied twice now that I’m a racist I’m implementing a modified version of Godwin’s Law. You lose.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Godwin’s_law

Liberal:

…and unfortunately…you’ll always be lost!
ha…ha…ha…wikipedia????? you must be kidding!!!! ha…ha…ha…. Ok….I lose …ha…ha..ha..have a good night!…and please no more posts!

Reasoned discourse at it’s best.

Semper Fi…

I heard a crash outside my bedroom last night.  I was annoyed but I wasn’t frightened.  I knew with utter certainty that the noise wasn’t some terrorist ratbag breaking in to take my food.  I knew that it wasn’t the military come to drag me off to serve in a camp somewhere.  I knew that if it did turn out to be a meth head looking to rob me for his next high that I had the means to defend myself.  I knew all of these things because people like LCPL Noah Pier have defended me from them and defended my right to keep and bear arms.

People join the military for all kinds of reasons.  Money for college, job training, deference from jail and family tradition; all good reasons.  Some men though join because they were always meant to be in the military.  From earliest childhood they were the ones that no one wanted to “play war” with because they were serious about it and, usually, good at it. They would mess you up with a well thrown clump of dirt.   Brothers for these kind of people often end up being recruits in mock training camps. 

It is a dedication to the very idea of serving ones country from birth.  It is staying up extra late any night that your parents will let you in order to listen to the National Anthem as the local television station goes off of the air.  It is standing at attention as the music plays when you think no one is looking.  It is an eight year old sneaking a salute to our flag as you pass by. It is being the loudest one in class when we all stood and placed our hands over our hearts to say the Pledge of Allegiance (back when we were allowed to do that anyway).

Once those people make it into the military they are home.  They stand with their brothers and sisters daily and are oh so proud to wear the uniform.  If you ask them why they serve they will look at you as if you are daft and say, “Because I am an American.”  There is no difference for them.  It is a one to one relationship.  They serve their country because their country is a part of the very core of their being.

Today we bring one of those men home.  LCPL Noah Pier, USMC was killed in Afghanistan last week.  You can find the local newspaper article by clicking here.

I didn’t know Pier personally but I’ve stood beside hundreds of others like him.  I was proud to serve with soldiers like that, to learn from them.

Today is not Memorial day nor is it Veterans day for the rest of us but for his family, today will always be those days.  Stand with me this morning, say a short prayer for his family and say goodbye to a man that spent his life keeping you safe at night.

Semper Fi Marine.

UPDATE: more of this marines story can be found here: Cedar Posts and Barbwire Fences: United States Marine Noah M. Pier of Charlotte Killed in Action Tuesday in Afghanistan

Envy

“Did you ever wonder that Envy is the only one of the Seven Deadly Sins that doesn’t give the sinner even momentary pleasure?” –George Will at CPAC 2010.

I wasn’t going to follow up with another post today but I found a video that I very much wanted to share.  CJ at “An Angry American” has gone to the trouble of lining up the three parts of this video to make it easy to watch  Please, CLICK HERE and watch just the first video.  I promise that if you do, you’ll continue with all three.

Status Updates… What’s on your mind?

I wake up and it’s hard to breathe. My entire body is sore.  My legs hurt the worst and my hip is screaming at me to roll over and relieve the pressure.  As I do, pressure of a different sort forces me to continue the movement, roll out of bed and stumble to the bathroom.  As I fall back into bed and pull the down comforter over me my wife appears like an angel with a cup of coffee.   I groan and sit up a bit more so that I can drink my coffee without spilling it and reach for the iPhone.  I check my email and then Facebook before posting the following:

Pretty sure that the way I feel about the coffee that my wife just brought me is a sin. Need to read up on that.

One of my aunts quickly assures me that it’s not a sin or, if it is, it’s not a big one.  Grateful, I continue scrolling through the posts from this morning.

Will says:

Last night was the first gumbo of the year at @jinksto’s. Took me this long to process. Just plain great.

Which prompts me to add:

My "bad decisions" have been reduced to having an extra bowl of gumbo and two too many strawberry cream puff pastries… I still feel guilty the next morning but there are fewer broken laws involved in making me feel that way. Net result: good.

I grin a bit and re-read all of yesterdays posts.  It’s a timeline for a beautiful day so I’ll share some of it with you.

I was supposed to join folks for a pancake breakfast at Will@home’s church.  In yesterdays first scroll through Facebook I saw Rob’s first post of the day regarding that breakfast and threw out this response:

Grrr… Just woke up. Meet after. Apologies to Will.

After which I promptly rolled over and went back to sleep.  An hour later I drug myself out of bed and, after getting dressed, I posted this notice:

Gumbo in the yard today. You coming? We’re kicking off spring today.

That’s a common thing to do.  Announce food on Facebook.  If you can see my Facebook you’re welcome to come to my house when we cook.  Most people know that but a few friends still require personal invitations.  They’ll learn.

I checked the weather for the day and it looked wonderful.  Bluebird clear skies and warm.  It’s a nice break from cold that we’ve had the last few weeks.  I did a few tasks around the house and promised Mrs. Jinksto that I would take the trash to the dump as soon as I got back from helping a friend move.   Promised

I had agreed to meet Rob at his house after the pancake breakfast with the thought that we’d head over for a morning of U-Haul loading.  As I was en-route he called and said that the Lady Hines needed to borrow my truck to help yet another friend.  I agreed immediately and later posted this bit of wisdom:

Loaned someone my truck this morning. As I watched it roll away I thought, "Hmmm… wonder where she’s going and when she’ll bring it back." Reckon that’s the difference between friends and true friends. For friends you find out that answer first, for true friends you don’t really care.

When I arrived I stepped out of my truck and picked up a lawn chair to load onto a nearby trailer.  We’ve done this enough to know what has to happen so long introductions aren’t really needed. You just fall in and go to work.  I nodded to people I had never met before as we carried things out of the house to load on the truck.  Later as we were unloading at the new house we found time to stand around getting to know one another.  That’s when I met Jack and his son Steve.  After a few minutes of chatting it was clear that they really needed to spend some time in the woods so an offer to join us later was extended and accepted.

After that we took an hour to unload the U-Haul and since my truck wasn’t back yet Rob gave me a ride home.  About halfway home I remembered my promise to Mrs. Jinksto and cringed a bit but when I walked in she gave me a welcome home hug and didn’t say a thing about my missing truck.  I love her.

I started in on the cooking and got together my “second store run” list which basically consists of everything that you forgot the first time.  Once I had a good handle on that list I jumped on the bike for a run to the grocery.  I could have taken the car but I only needed a couple of things and figured that I’d better take advantage of the weather..  While I was at the store, Rob posted the following:

Crew is packed up and headed to @Jinksto , we are rolling four deep in redneck mobiles! Whooot … Lookout, here we come!

Since my house is out in the woods it’s almost always easier to explain to folks how to get to his house and then caravan over.

As I rode up, there was a line of cars waiting to turn into my drive.  I fell into line and followed the redneck caravan up to the house.  As gumbosoon as we arrived I went to the shop to get the gumbo pot and propane burner ready.  I had 15 people at the house and more on the way when I discovered that BOTH the gumbo pot and burner were still at Rob’s house where we used them to fry the thanksgiving turkey’s.   That’ll stop  your heart.  A few minutes later I posted this picture with the comment:

No propane. Lost gumbo pot. No problem.  I love being redneck.

This pot is one that Miss Tracey gave me for Christmas last year.  It’s huge and has been pressed into service a couple of times when we need to feed a lot of people.  You can easily feed 40 people out of it (I know because after feeding 20 people last night it was still half full).

Steve brought his guitar along and the boy knows his stuff.  It’s a stevegood thing because when I plugged the sound system in I found that a winter of being stored under the outdoor bar didn’t do a lot for the internal electronics.  I felt a little bad about forcing him into service but like most musicians he didn’t seem to mind and played until his fingers got too cold to continue.  That worked out to be just about the time that Gumbo was ready so things worked out nicely.

The Gumbo cooked for about three hours while we talked and sang and watched the kids play in the woods.  We shared stories and more than a few pictures were posted to Facebook.

As the sky darkened we kicked up the fire, I lit the torches along the walk and while one component took the kids in for a big screen showing of Nemo the rest of us engaged in a tradition as long as human history. Sitting around a fire on a cold night telling stories.   As the moon hung in the night sky listening we told stories of weddings and hunting trips and firefriends that are no longer near.  We each listened intently tossing in comments and using the previous story to launch our own.  Laughter rang out through the night on several occasions and jests about the keeper of the flame not doing his work as the cold snuck under loose clothes were many.  The night turned colder to the point that some of us were  shivering even with the fire but still we hung on.   No one wanted to be the first to call it a night.   At one point I posted this picture and commented:

You know the food was good if you have to throw wood on the fire three times after dinner.

Eventually though, we had to give it up and folks were quick to help with cleanup.  Goodbye’s were said and hugs passed around as parting gifts.  I later posted this update and a link to my post “The trinity”:

I started to write a post about tonights gumbo but it would have been a copy of this one anyway so I’m going to bed instead 🙂 Fantastic night with friends.

The trinity… « jinksto

jinksto.com

I sit here sated, tired, happy. I reek of the trinity. Tonight we had what I tried very hard to keep from becoming a party. A party is a collection of people “having a good time” with a purpose. A party is also tense. There are social rules that have to be met. There is stress…

 

After the feast compliments and thanks were shared.  But two stood out for me in particular.  I’ve said before that we mostly do these things for “the kids”.  We remember nights like last night from our own childhood and want to share those things with them. 

I remember what it was like to play in the trees until dark drove you into the nice, warm house.  I remember what it was like as a teen to sit around a fire listening to adults tell stories.  Observing, laughing along at jokes that I didn’t quite understand and learning…  sometimes learning things that I shouldn’t but learning still. 

As we were closing out the night, we were talking about weddings and bachelors parties.  I said that my bachelor party was a get together just like the one that we had last night.  A night of sitting around the fire, talking with dear friends and just enjoying the gifts that God has given us.  No strippers required. One of the teens, a young man of 17 or so, piped up for the first time in the night and said, “Yeah, That sounds great!  I want you guys to throw my bachelor party!”  As far as I know there’s no wedding currently in the works but he’s definitely got a deal.

Later that night his sixteen year old girlfriend (and one of Rob’s daughters) posted this update to Facebook. 

Just got home from [jinksto] and [Mrs. jinksto]’s I love their house. It is sooo much fun. Bout to go to bed. Night facebookers.

Thanks for that darlin.  That was the whole point of the day.

 

 

Unreasonable Discourse…

I guess the guy that flew his plane into the IRS building in Texas today is making a lot of news.  I read his entire manifesto and am still thinking it over.  I might post on it in the future but for now I’ve seen the quote, “We’re at a delicate point in history, it’s too late to fix what’s wrong with the government and too early to shoot them.”  I think that applies to flying airplanes into their buildings as well.  Instead, I think we’ll talk about the media today.

Two of a pilots favorite past times (and there are many) are reviewing crash reports and mocking the media.  Over the last few years the media has gotten better at reporting crashes but there are still a few points that they miss regularly.  Two stories that surfaced today before the actual intent of the crash was known surrounded stalls.  The media NEVER gets these right.

I popped the clutch and the airplane stalled..
The first one is easy.  It was reported that the airplanes engine might have stalled and that it crashed.  An airplane engine doesn’t stall.  It’s not a car.  There’s no clutch (for the purposes of this discussion anyway).  Pilots, because they are geeks, will nod along with this and then say, “but, in the case of x,y, z you CAN actually get an engine stall or even mention that a prop stall (or a fan stall in jets) does happen”.  That’s true,  but those things are very very rare and if they did occur a reporter wouldn’t know enough to tell you about it. For the layman, if you hear a reporter tell you that an airplane engine stalled change the channel.  It just doesn’t happen.  Engines might quit running occasionally but they don’t stall. 

Oh, and for the sake of clarity, when the spinny thing on the front of an airplane stops spinning it becomes a glider… it doesn’t fall out of the sky.

The airplane stopped flying and then flew…
When it does fall out of the sky is when the second bit of news from today comes into play.  The report said, “A wing stall may have occurred as the plane was flying low and slow over the highway, which would cause the plane to bank sharply.” That sounds reasonable but it doesn’t work that way.  

Here’s a bit of trivia: Wing stalls have nothing to do with speed.  Think about that one for second because it’s one of the hardest concepts to grasp for people new to aviation.  A wing stalls when the flow of air over the wing is interrupted.  The flow of air is interrupted when the angle of attack gets too high.  What that means is that the angle of the wing into the airflow becomes so great that the air doesn’t flow smoothly over the wing.  So, in reality, a stall can occur at high speeds even easier than it can at low speeds (because it takes less angle of attack to interrupt the airflow).

In normal operation, an airfoil (wing) is curved on the top and flat (or mostly flat on the bottom) this means that air going over the top of the wing has further to travel than air going under the wing.  In order to compensate for this increased distance the air traveling over the top of the wing moves faster than the air going under the wing.  In a fluid (air is a fluid) internal pressures decrease as the velocity increases. This means that the air traveling over the top of the wing has less pressure than the air traveling under the wing.  This difference in pressure causes lift and is what enables airplanes (and helicopters) to fly.  In physics this is known as the “Bernoulli Principle”.   The important thing to remember here is lift in airplanes is NOT created (to any significant extent) by “impact air” hitting the bottom of the wing when you point the nose up.  It’s caused by an increased angle of attack into the relative wind (the air that the airplane is moving through) which causes the air going over the top of the wing to have even further to travel and creating more lift.

All of that is a bit foggy but the important thing to remember is that when an aircraft wing stalls it has no lift because the angle of attack has become so great that air cant flow smoothly over the wing.   It’s important to note this because stalls can happen at ANY speed.   But more importantly because a stalled wing has no lift.  What that means is that it can’t turn.  At all.

Everyone knows that airplanes tilt when they turn.  Even a 5 year old knows this as evidenced by them leaning left and right as they zoom through the air.   The reason that they tilt (airplanes, not five year olds) is very simply to change the lift vector.  Think of it this way.  When the airplane is flying straight and level the wings are mostly level and lift is created perpendicular to the wings.  E.G. the wings are horizontal and the lift component is straight up. 

When the amount of lift equals the weight of the airplane you float.  When the amount of lift is higher than the weight of the airplane you go up.  When the amount of lift is less than the weight of the airplane you go down.  When the amount of lift is zero you go straight down.

When an airplane tilts in a turn, the lift stays the same.  It’s still exactly perpendicular to the wings.  This means that some of the lift that was keeping you in the air is now being used to “pull you around” your turn.   I can show you the math to prove it but this post is already too long so, for now, just accept three things:

1) Lift is created by airflow over the wings or more specifically angle of attack into the airflow,
2) turns are created by using lift,
3) Stalls occur when airflow over the wings is interrupted and lift is reduced to zero.

Using those three rules it follows that if the wing stalls (meaning that it is no longer creating lift) the airplane stops flying and it won’t turn because there is no lift being created to “pull” it around the turn.

In most cases when a stall occurs the nose of the airplane points itself down and the airplane gains speed until the angle of attack is sufficient to produce lift again (yeah, speed… ignore that too for now). 

Pilots practice this ALL of the time because, 1) it’s fun and 2) it’s best if you recognize stalls before they happen and prevent them from happening on accident and in close proximity to the hard flat stuff.  However, what this reporter was probably confused by was the following.  A well flown airplane will (almost) always stall both wings at the same time but it IS possible to stall one wing and not the other.  When this occurs the lift is uneven and the airplane won’t turn…. at least not in the normal sense.  The wing with lift will go up and the wing without lift will go down (hence “bank sharply) and the airplane will go into a spin.  When an airplane spins it goes so very nearly straight down (discounting any forward inertia that you have left) as to not be considered in any way a turn.

All of that means that we can now create rule number four which is:

4) stalled airplanes do not turn.  It’s physically (in the literal sense)  impossible.

See?  Easy!  Why doesn’t everyone get this? 

Yeah, right. That’s why people don’t like to sit by pilots at parties… because they like to talk about this stuff but in even deeper detail.  Sometimes they even use slide rules.  If you get two of them really going they can put an entire VFW post to sleep.

 

****
Airplane Pilots, have a ball ripping this apart. 

Helicopter Pilots, get yer own stall rules… those things shouldn’t fly in the first place.

Sadly, the first thing that went through my mind when I found out that this was a purposeful crash was this question, answer it if you can:

Assuming that you’ve lost it to the point that you’re going to crash your airplane on purpose.  Would you exceed Vne just this once?

 

 

Please Consider… in which a reasoned article decays into a rant.

 

pleaseconsider 

Blind acceptance of truth destroys industries and lives.  The myth that not printing an email is somehow “saving trees” is annoying to me.  Primarily because I happen to know that you’re not saving anything by avoiding the printer but more importantly because I know that you’re destroying an industry that supports a group of people that are dear to me.

You see, where I grew up Boise Cascade was a timber company. They owned land, they harvested trees, they are the primary industry in the area.    The city flag of Leesville, La has a pine tree at its center.  The Vernon Parish (that’s a Louisiana name for county, we’re not all Catholic) fair is called the “West Louisiana Forestry Festival”.

Many years later I was surprised to find that my co-workers only knew them as an office supply company.  I never connected the fact that they grew and cut timber with the fact that they made printer paper.  I knew, of course, that they made paper with the trees that they cut but always assumed that they produced it in industrial quantities and sold it to distributors.  Turns out, they do it themselves.   But no matter.treefarm

I knew the words Sustainable Forestry before most tree hugging hate group idolaters were even born. Everyone from that area did.  It was a way of life.  Central Louisiana is covered with two things.  Tree Farms and Kisatchie National Forest.  Kisatchie is one of the largest national forests in the world.  Boise is a huge force in management of both of those.

In a CenLa tree farm, trees are planted in rows about 50 feet apart.  It’s a common sight when traveling through the area with the lanes between the trees flashing buy in the same way that rows of corn appear in Ohio.  Every 10 years or so the farms are “thinned” with some of the trees being removed.  At about 25 or 30 years the area is harvested, replanted and the cycle continues.  It’s a farm.  The idea that you are somehow saving old growth hardwoods or a majestic old magnolia by not printing your school report is, hooey.  Hundreds of thousands of acres.  Tens of thousands of jobs.  All depend on actively managed tree farming.   People from the area know others who have suffered greatly from the environmental nightmare created by the “save a tree” foundation.

You smirk at us as you destroy our industry.  You call us rubes and rednecks because we have high school educations and you went to an ivy league college. You publish pictures of Redwoods and cry for us to save paper and we look at you like you really are the moron that you pretend to be.  We can publish unrelated but very moving images too.  Watch this.

plasticbagPaper or plastic?  Seriously?  A paper grocery bag will rot to nothing in about a month. You can recycle or even compost it for growing your veggies.   A plastic bag takes a couple of years to decay and leaves behind it’s source chemicals… that’s even the “biodegradable” ones  that you hawk as “environmentally friendly”.

They’re not.  For years we were supposed to skip paper, save a tree and go for plastic.  Now, after years of killing wildlife and destroying lives you’ve changed our mantra to something new. environmentally

In short green boy, you have a credibility problem.  Paper or Plastic?  Ask the cute turtle.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The other side (in which Greybeard reminds me to think it through):

 

I almost made a mistake.  Ok, actually, I did make a mistake and Greybeard straightened me out.  I read a post of his and was moved enough that I thought that I needed to say something.  Since I had just wrote a post about great dad’s I just added an addendum to that as a reminder that they’re not all great.  GB dropped me a mail and asked me to put it somewhere else.  He was right.  My recent post about a dad was a celebration of a great man.  An honorable man.  A loving man.  That post doesn’t need to be sullied by this.  Thanks again GB.

Pop over to PitchPull and read this post

My Dad used to spank us… regularly.  At least it seemed that way.  In retrospect it really probably wasn’t all that often.  I hated my father for those spankings a couple of times but even then I knew that I deserved every one.  Even then I was old enough to know that he was fair.

I’ve mentioned a few times that the old man used to smack us on the back of the head.  He did but never before we were big enough to handle it and never hard enough to do more than sting a bit.  It woke us up and made us pay attention and it was always when we were doing something supremely and utterly stupid.

As I grew older and saw parents that I respect have to spank children I learned a few things about my own parents.  What I thought was anger was mostly theater.  It was part of convincing me that my parents were disappointed in my actions.  Of course, I realize now that I was never hit in anger.  Never with a closed fist. Never with a hard object. Never beat.  In fact, there were a few times that I’m sure we didn’t get spanked because dad WAS angry enough to hurt us.  There is at least once that I know, without a doubt, that this was the case (Sheriff’s office, long story, probably deserved to be beat, wasn’t).  He just found other ways to punish us.  

There’s a difference between punishment and abuse.  That line gets blurred these days by people who consider any form of corporal punishment abuse.  People like that are the same ones that blame the decline of society on religion.  

People like the guy described in Greybeard’s post don’t deserve to live.

Here’s wishing that all fathers were as good as the ones that I’ve known.

Bad Boys, Bad boys, watcha gonna do…

 

There are reports this morning that Taliban second in command Abdul Ghani Baradar has been captured.  It remains unclear as to whether the terror leader was read his rights.  We suspect that the following version of Miranda would have been appropriate.  It’s a bit longer than normal but should cover most of the bases:

You have the right to remain silent and the president of the United States of America, Barack Hussein Obama, recommends that you exercise this right immediately.   However, if you do not, we have a specific non-existent High Value Prisoner team who will remind you of this right if they ever find the time to organize themselves. Until then you may find yourself in the custody of several organizations to include (but not limited to) the CIA, the FBI, the United States Army, the DEA, the ATF, the FAA, the Air Marshalls and/or our good friends the Pakistani Government. Allahu Akbar

Anything you say can (but probably won’t) be used against you in a court of law (that court of law to be determined according to political expedients currently in force at the time of attempted prosecution). Allahu Akbar

You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney because we found and confiscated millions of US Dollars at your place of habitation, one will be appointed to you.  The attorney that we provide will make millions over the course of your multi-year preparation and trial.  This will be in stark contrast to the low wage and/or pro-bono defense that actual American citizens receive. Allahu Akbar

You have the right to a High Visibility Trial in the Continental United States of America (CONUS).  It is highly recommend that you consult with your attorney and determine an appropriate set of rhetoric to be spewed in outbursts during trial should this occur.  If you choose to exercise this right it will mean that you will be housed in substandard American prisons rather than much more comfortable quarters at GITMO.  Allahu Akbar

Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you? If not, we can provide translation to 123 non-English languages or dialects thereof.

Allahu Akbar

Did I miss anything?

Remember: flag@whitehouse.gov is your friend.