Blogorado, Day 3

Saturday dawned fair and bright, quite a lot warmer than the sub-freezing temperatures that had made us shiver the previous morning.  We gathered at yon local hostelry for breakfast once more, our numbers augmented by new arrivals.  It's fun to see an entire side room filled to overflowing, every table taken, with the waitress scurrying between them while trying to avoid the traffic as people got up to greet and hug new arrivals.  How she managed it, I honestly don't know, but I didn't witness any major collisions.

I decided to order Farmdad's favorite breakfast burrito.  He orders it 'hot', meaning with extra peppers.  I ordered it 'regular', but it was still hot and spicy enough to bring out perspiration on my forehead.  It was very tasty, though, topped with green chili and accompanied by 'cottage fries' (squares of pan-roasted potato).  I managed to eat the whole thing, despite its impressive size.  They obviously believe in feeding you farmer-sized portions in these parts.  I skipped lunch in order to leave more room for supper, which turned out to have been a wise precaution.

After breakfast we made our joint and several ways out to the shooting range.  It's in a back section about eight miles from the farmhouse, and about a dozen miles from the nearest tarred road.  The dirt roads leading to it are well maintained, being used by farmers every day, but the track leading from the road into the shooting area was a challenge for anything with less ground clearance than a farm pickup truck.  The weeds grew thick and heavy on the center hump.  Birds and insects scurried to get out of the way of the unaccustomed traffic.  I had one small grasshopper land on our windshield, from where it regarded me with startled, bugged-out eyes until the vehicle finally came to a halt, after which it departed hastily for pastures new.

Four ranges were set up;  one for shotguns, another for handguns, one for rimfire, and a table for riflemen, offering ranges out to a thousand yards.  The safety briefing took less than 30 seconds - everyone here is a more or less experienced shooter, and anyone who isn't will be helped at the drop of a hat (sometimes whether they want help or not!).  We were glad to have two paramedics with us, each well equipped to take care of any emergencies, so first aid would not have been lacking if required.  (Fortunately, it wasn't.)

I noticed Lawdog and a few others carving a pit out of the rimfire berm.  Upon inquiry, it emerged that this was where the tribute to Ray (discussed yesterday) would be detonated.  Its creators weren't sure about the pyrotechnic properties of the concoction they'd eventually settled upon (words such as 'acetylene' and 'ammonium nitrate' and 'diesel' having been bandied about the night before, as well as the more mundane Tannerite).  To ensure success, a small trial charge was shot from a safe distance away, and proved satisfactory.  Later in the day, Ray's tribute heart disintegrated with a bang guaranteed to warm the cockles of any pyrotechnician's heart.  Glitter went everywhere at very high speed, and the pit in the berm ended up significantly larger than it started.  I suspect, if Ray was watching from somewhere up there, his shade probably approved.  It may even have giggled.

I adjourned to our hotel room for a nap during the afternoon, being a bit under the weather as my fused spine decided to let me know that it really didn't like all the activity of the past few days.  A few hours' sleep and a painkiller later, I felt refreshed enough to rejoin the throng for supper at the farm.  The late, dearly departed Sir Loin had surrendered a large supply of bone-in steaks, of immense proportions in both area and thickness, which Stingray barbecued to medium rare perfection.  (The man is gifted, and not just in science.)  We all indulged ourselves shamelessly.

By now the collection of bottles on a table in the barn had grown to impressive proportions as new arrivals added their contributions to the common store. I counted several very high-end Scotch whisky bottles, top-rated bourbons, and a couple of forlorn-looking Irish spirits.  I tried a little 15-year-old Macallan, part of their Fine Oak specialty range, which proved extraordinarily smooth and tasty.  I'd only had the 12-year-old before now, and the difference between it and its older sibling was very notable.  I'm going to have to keep an eye open for the older Macallans (if my budget can stand it;  I understand the 25- and 30-year-old vintages are probably beyond my reach - until I write another book, anyway!).  I drink very little spirits indeed, and not much of anything else.  Nevertheless, as an occasional treat, a dram of the uisge beatha is a healthful thing, as my Scottish ancestors would probably have said.

We'll gather for breakfast again on Sunday, then it's off to the range once more.  So far, our eighth annual Blogorado gathering is living up to the high standards set by its predecessors.

Peter

Trump's sexist, Clinton's corrupt . . . so what else is new?

I must confess to a feeling of frustration at the latest kerfuffles erupting in this year's election campaign.  They seem so damn pointless.

Donald Trump made a sexist comment?  So what?  He's made dozens over the years.  Some of the most notorious are gathered here, if it matters.  We've always known he's that way inclined - just like many influential figures in business and politics.  It's not just in America, either - witness Sergio Berlusconi's scandals in Italy, or Mitterand's mistress in France, or the Profumo scandal in the UK.

Hillary Clinton's speeches have been 'exposed'?  Again, so what?  We've known for years that she's incorrigibly corrupt and dishonest.  I think it was in 1996 that she was first publicly called a 'congenital liar'.  Nothing appears to have changed in the two decades since then.

Both Clinton and Trump are deeply flawed candidates for the Presidency of the United States.  I don't think either of them will make a good President if elected, and I wish there were better alternatives.  Unfortunately, there aren't.  The minor party candidates exhibit significant shortcomings of their own, so I don't think it's worth supporting any of them;  and even if one of them were elected, he or she would never be able to muster enough support in Congress and the Senate to be effective.  All that's left to us is to vote for the lesser of the evils confronting us in this election.

Who is the 'lesser evil' among the candidates?  To my mind, that has to be Donald Trump.  I find that thought deeply distasteful in many ways.  Don't forget, I'm a retired pastor, and I assess candidates from that moral and ethical perspective.  He doesn't check many of my 'positive' boxes, and checks far too many of my 'negative' ones . . . but he checks more of the former, and less of the latter, than Hillary Clinton.  He's also made some campaign promises that I would like to see implemented, even though I'm not sure of his sincerity or their practicality.  On those grounds, and with great moral reluctance, I see no-one else to support in the present election.  That's a very sad commentary on the state of US politics today.

Joseph-Marie de Maistre famously said, "Every nation gets the government it deserves".  I can only respond that the USA must have done a whole lot of pretty ghastly things to deserve this!

Peter

Blogorado, Day 2

Friday began with a gathering at a local restaurant for breakfast.  People trickled in from various local hotels over the course of half-an-hour or so.  We took over a room to one side of the main area, to avoid overwhelming the locals with a huge crowd of strangers.  The harried waitress performed miracles in keeping track of everyone's orders, and thoroughly deserved the outsize tip we gathered together for her.  (We warned the proprietress that there'd be even more of us on Saturday.  She's promised to set up our very own coffee machine in the side room, to keep us supplied.)

From there it was off to the local stores.  Several people needed to replace things they'd forgotten to bring, and others took advantage of the presence of farm supply stores offering goodies that are seldom found in big-city shops.  I enjoy that, too.  It's hard to think of a reason I might need a set of outsize, longhorn-embroidered, insulated overalls with a leather-reinforced backside, but the concept is intriguing!  I wanted to buy a couple of cheap folding chairs for use in the barn, where our numbers had already overtaken the existing supply.  Miss D. suggested that instead, we should buy two more expensive outsize folding rocking chairs, big enough for comfort and easy to get into and out of (important to us, given our physical limitations).  They proved very comfortable during the day and evening.  There are many reasons I love my wife, and her practicality is definitely among them!

It was a busy day for the more DIY-minded among us.  Farmdad roped in several folks to help build shooting tables, erect new targets, and get the shooting range ready for Saturday.  He gathered wood and scrap steel from various places around the farm, and more supplies were bought in town after breakfast.  Much cutting, drilling, welding and hammering ensued, providing a soundtrack from the barn for Farmmom and her helpers as they prepared chicken-fried steaks for supper.  (Her recipe is so good, and her country gravy and mashed potatoes so delicious, that they've become an icon of our Blogorado gatherings.  Everyone looks forward to them.  She even managed to whomp up a few gluten-free examples for some of our group with dietary restrictions.)

More people trickled in through the day, leading to many joyful reunions and lots of banter.  The farm kittens had a great time;  lots of new people who wanted to play with them, stroke them, and let them sleep in the sunshine or near the fire, curled up on their chests or inside their jackets.  Kitty heaven!  I suspect several of them may be heading for new homes when our gathering is over.

We lost Ray Carter earlier this year to cancer, which saddened all of us.  He was a great character, and a welcome member of our clan.  I understand several of our more pyrotechnically inclined members (some with military training in things that make a loud bang) are planning an explosive tribute to his memory tomorrow.  They gathered around a table, muttering dire incantations involving the Munroe effect and shaped charges and glitter and Tannerite, cutting out various shapes and bending, twisting and contorting them in strange and mysterious ways.  A very large paper and cardboard heart, realistically colored, was a central element in the proceedings.  I'm not sure whether it was safe to allow them to work in the same barn as the rest of us!  I daresay we'll see the results of their labors on Saturday.  I just wish I didn't have this mental picture of Ray sitting on a cloud in heaven, rubbing his hands (and his wings) together in gleeful anticipation and calling, "Hey, St. Peter, watch this.  It's going to be a blast!"

Supper was as delicious as one could desire.  Stingray, the male half of the Atomic Nerds, did the cooking in a big vat of oil brought to a rolling boil over a gas flame.  The rest of us savored his handiwork, and the fruits of all the preparations by Farmmom and her helpers.  We stuffed ourselves.  (The food at Blogorado is always good enough, in both quality and quantity, to make our meals an epic experience in and of themselves.  Diet?  What diet?)

Large quantities of beverages of various descriptions had mysteriously appeared, loading up a table with bottles of assorted hues, flavors and alcoholic natures, and filling a fridge with more bottles and cans of liquid goodness.  Two kegs of beer occupied an outsize ice-filled storage container, which kept them satisfactorily cold.  After supper, people filled their glasses with various and sundry beverages, as the mood took them.  The evening was crisply cool, so Farmgirl lit a fire in the barn doorway, using a home-made brazier made of steel wheels from farm implements, welded together into a tower with a window cut out for a fireplace.  It radiated heat very satisfactorily.  People wandered from group to group, catching up on other folks' news, sharing laughter and banter, playing with kittens, taking pictures, and keeping a wary eye on our pyrotechnic plotters gathered around a table as they cut, shaped and fiddled.

Saturday morning will see us rendezvous for another mammoth breakfast, then it's hi-ho for the shooting range.  If I survive the tribute to Ray Carter, I'll let you know how it went!

Peter

Is the Rule of Law finally dead in the USA?

I'm sure there are those who say that the Rule of Law died a long time ago in these United States, but I think it's been largely intact until a couple of years ago.  Now, though . . . I'm not so sure.

Two recent examples have sorely tested my faith in our laws.  The first, and most blatant, was the refusal to prosecute Hillary Clinton for her breach of security laws and regulations.  As Austin Bay notes:

PRN means Platte River Networks, the outfit who Hillary hired to handle her rogue server system. The Apple MacBook mentioned in the timeline contained backup copies of Hillary’s emails.

• Early 2014—Monica Hanley advises Undisclosed PRN Staff Member to wipe the Apple MacBook clean after uploading Hillary’s emails to the new PRN server but he forgets to do it

• Early 2014—Undisclosed PRN Staff Member mails Apple MacBook back to Clinton and it is promptly lost

• Dec 2014—Hillary delivers 55,000 emails to State Department

• Dec 2014/Jan 2015—Heather Samuelson and Cheryl Mills request emails be deleted from their computer using BleachBit

• Dec 2014/Jan 2015—“Unknown Clinton staff member” instructs PRN to remove archives of Clinton emails from PRN server

• Mar 2, 2015—NYT releases an article showing that Hillary used a personal email server in violation of State Department rules

• Mar 4, 2015—Hillary receives subpoena from House Select Committee on Benghazi instructing her to preserve and deliver all emails from her personal servers

• Mar 25, 2015—Undisclosed PRN Staff Member has a conference call with “President Clinton’s Staff”

• Mar 25-31, 2015—Undisclosed PRN Staff Member has “oh shit” moment and realizes he forgot to wipe Hillary’s email archive from the PRN server back in December…which he promptly does using BleachBit despite later admitting he “was aware of the existence of the preservation request and the fact that it meant he should not disturb Clinton’s e-mail data on the PRN server”

• Jun 2016—FBI discovers that Undisclosed PRN Staff Member forgot to erase 940 emails from the gmail account he created to help with the PRN server upload

. . .

Now tell me, Comey. Do you really think (as Zerohedge says, tongue in cheek) “Mills, Hillary, President Clinton’s Office were all blissfully unaware of the actions of their rogue IT guy”? You and your agency know Hillary failed to turn over work-related emails to the Committee. You think these curiouser and curiouser shenanigans were all accidental? Are you and Alice living happily together in Wonderland?

There's more at the link.  It's a pretty damning indictment of the FBI and the Justice Department for the way they (mis)managed the Clinton investigation and appear to have displayed what can only be either partisanship, or rank incompetence, in their handling of the entire affair.  What price the rule of law when those officially responsible for its enforcement fail to do their jobs?  (Meanwhile, of course, others responsible for its enforcement continue to selectively make all sorts of problems for those who aren't in political favor.)

The other example is selective enforcement of our laws by immigration authorities.

The Obama administration is delaying deportation proceedings for recent immigrants in cities across the United States, allowing more than 56,000 ... to remain in the country legally for several more  years.

Again, more at the link.

Laws are meant to be universally enforced, not selectively applied.  I swore the same oath of office used by members of the FBI and every other Federal law enforcement agency:

I [name] do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter. So help me God.

I meant my word, and I kept that oath of office during (and since) my term of service.  However, it seems that many (not least FBI Director Comey) are honoring it more in the breach than in the observance.

How can any honorable person swear such an oath, then flagrantly disregard it at the direction of those in political power?  Isn't the only honorable response to resign one's office rather than be a willing accomplice to its corruption?  Or am I hopelessly naive and out of touch with reality?  I hope and pray that I'm not, and the example of some friends and colleagues persuades me that there are many like me in Federal service.  However, sadly, there are many more who don't exhibit the same moral character.

So, is the Rule of Law dead in the USA?  Or is it merely in abeyance for a short time until it can be restored?  Please let us know your thoughts in Comments.  I won't be able to check in often, but I'll look forward to reading the discussion when I have time.

Peter

Blogorado, Day 1

The gathering of our clan has officially begun!  Miss D. and I arrived early yesterday afternoon in the small Colorado town that's the base for our annual blogger gathering.  Old NFO and aepilot_jim followed in our tracks, getting in half-an-hour behind us.  Others were arriving from various points of the compass.  Most of us booked into our hotels, dumped our luggage in our rooms, then headed for the farm where we'll spend most of our time.

It was a joy to meet Farmdad, Farmmom and Farmgirl, our hosts, once more.  This whole shindig started when, at a blogger gathering hosted by the lovely Phlegmmy in Dallas, TX, FarmGirl wistfully asked whether we would attend a similar gathering in the wilds of Colorado's grasslands if she were to host it.  The response was overwhelmingly positive.  It's remained on an invitation-only basis, which has made this a sort of self-selected tribal get-together.  This is the eighth annual gathering, with no sign of anyone or anything slowing down.  The reunions were great fun ("Christina, what happened to your hair?  It's purple!")

To almost everyone's delight, the FarmFamily's abundant brood of barn cats have produced a few kittens, just in time for our gathering.  There were four little and not-so-little bundles of fluff climbing all over everyone within reach, attacking any cord attached to clothing, purring up a storm, demanding to share our food, and climbing into arms, laps and coats for a quick nap.  One of them is black, with the tips of his fur on the rear half of his body fading to silver-gray, almost like a silvertip grizzly bear.  He's very cute and affectionate.  Farmdad is hinting heavily to Miss D. and I that he needs a home, and wouldn't he make wonderful company for our present cat?  We'll have to see about that . . . but he did seem to spend an awful lot of time snuggling into our arms and purring loudly.  I think he and Farmdad have hatched a plot together.

Farmmom and her helpers served up a delicious beef pot roast for supper, complete with carrots and light, fluffy mashed potatoes.  The food is one of the highlights of Blogorado, and this year looks set fair to continue the tradition.  A noble beast, Sir Loin, has shuffled off this mortal coil for our gathering this year, and awaits our gustatory pleasure in various forms and dishes, some already cooked, some planned.  Meanwhile, his mortal remains are filling the FarmFamily's freezers to overflowing - so much so that Farmmom had to appeal to us all to eat hearty last night, because she had nowhere to put any leftovers!  We strove to meat her need . . . you should pardon the (burp!) expression.

Friday morning will be spent setting up the shooting range on part of the farmland.  It's been converted into a shooting range with the bulldozing of berms at various distances to provide backstops.  It's in rolling country to begin with, so with the aid of the berms, almost any shooting activity can be safely accommodated.  There's a handgun range with metal knock-down targets, a hundred-yard rimfire range for .22LR handguns and rifles, a rifle range going out as far as a thousand yards for those who like long-distance shooting, and a shotgun area for those who like to dispatch large quantities of lead in clouds of tiny bits and pieces.  Farmdad and several helpers are planning to build new range tables out of scrap steel and wood (of which there's no shortage in the farm barn).

The shooting will get under way later tomorrow afternoon, as the last arrivals roll into town.  Things will be in full swing by Saturday, continuing on into early next week to take advantage of the Columbus Day holiday and long weekend.  Tamara will have a couple of new toys for us to play with, including one that interests me very much (I own one of the earlier models).  I've brought half a dozen handguns to shoot.  Others have brought expensive and very accurate ironmongery to try out at longer ranges.  (It was amusing to watch aepilot_jim straining under the load of a very thick, very heavy plate of steel as he lugged it into the barn.  We offered suitable encouragement, but little assistance!  I helped by providing moral support . . . I raised my glass in his general direction.  The steel plate will end up as a hanging gong at the 750-yard point on the rifle range, providing audible as well as visual confirmation of a hit.)

I'll continue to post as and when possible.  There's no Internet or cellphone signal at all on the range, and only limited cellphone service at the farmhouse, so posting has to wait until I get back to our hotel room in town every day.  By the time I do that, I'm usually pretty exhausted, so my output will be limited.  Regular blogging will recommence once I get home.

Peter

Nature at her very best

Storm- and weather-chaser Mike Olbinski has produced the latest in his long series of videos, this one focusing on the monsoon weather of the south-western USA.  It's spectacular!  He says of it:

My early scenes years ago had a lot of average clouds and distant rain that didn't have a lot of excitement or energy. But as the years go on, and I learn more and more about chasing storms here in Arizona...I've found myself in better spots to capture the stuff I really enjoy. Strong downbursts of rain, building clouds, lightning...and yes, dust storms.

The one thing I was hoping for in 2016 that the previous years have lacked: Haboobs. Dust storms. Rolling walls of dirt and sand engulfing the deserts and even Phoenix itself. And my wish came true in that regard. Even a very late season, September 27th haboob that I captured right at sunset with glorious colors.

Coming off the heels of filming Vorticity in the spring, with monster supercells and tornadoes, the monsoon is a totally different beast and you'd think it would be less exciting. I don't know. I find them both amazing and inspiring. Weather to me is weather. No matter how mind-blowing it was to witness the Wynnewood tornado this past spring, standing in front of a rolling wall of dust, or a distant lightning storm under the stars...it's all a blast to me and I never get tired of it.

So Monsoon III...the credits will say it, but it was around 36 days of filming, I shot over 85,000 frames and am not sure how much made it into the final cut. The song I used was "Revenge" and "Revenge: Epilogue" by Kerry Muzzey, and I took both of them and sliced and diced until I actually had a six-minute version to fit in with all the footage I captured. I love it.

There's more at the link.

I recommend watching the video in full-screen mode to get the best results.

Lovely!  Time-lapse shooting like that gives one a whole new perspective on nature.

Peter

On the road for a few days

Miss D. and I will be out of town for a few days, so blog posts will be sparse.  I'll put one up as and when I have time, and as and when I have Internet access.  Both are likely to be few and far between.

We're off to attend the annual Blogorado gathering of gun bloggers and their significant others.  Large quantities of ammunition will go downrange, large quantities of food will be eaten, and large quantities of adult beverages will be consumed (not at the same time as the shooting, needless to say).  I daresay we'll return needing a holiday to recover from our holiday!  Nevertheless, it's one of our favorite events of the year, and we're looking forward to seeing old friends once more.

Please amuse yourselves in my blog archives, and with the blogs in the sidebar (although those written by folks also attending Blogorado are likely to be as sparse as this one for a few days!).  Normal service will resume next Tuesday.

Peter

A blast from a war long past

There was widespread dismay when President Truman relieved General Macarthur of his command in 1951 during the Korean War.  Now, information has come to light that it may have been a lot more necessary than was perceived at the time.

The MacArthur firing prompted the Democratic-led Congress to invite the general to address a joint session, which MacArthur moved to applause and tears when he declared that “old soldiers never die; they just fade away.” Among Republicans, there were murmurs of support for a MacArthur candidacy for president. The Senate’s Armed Services and Foreign Relations Committes held joint hearings, at which MacArthur detailed his disagreement with the president and claimed the backing of the Joint Chiefs of Staff for his position.

The joint chiefs contradicted him. The Senate hearings were closed to the public, but a transcript was released each day including all but the most sensitive comments. Omar Bradley, the chairman of the joint chiefs, flatly rejected MacArthur’s call for a wider war. “In the opinion of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, this strategy would involve us in the wrong war, in the wrong place, at the wrong time and with the wrong enemy,” he said.

Bradley’s categorical conclusion proved the most compelling public statement by any official at the committee hearings. For a soldier of Bradley’s stature, with no history of politics, to contradict MacArthur so completely caused even the most ardent of MacArthur’s supporters to pause and reconsider.

Yet it was the statements that were not made public that did the real damage to MacArthur. Not until the 1970s was the secret testimony declassified, and even then it languished in the archives, overlooked by all but a few specialists in a topic time seemed to have passed by. But to read it now is to understand how quickly, and thoroughly, one of America’s most popular generals was undone.

. . .

Other excised testimony revealed a fundamental reason for the administration’s reluctance to escalate in northeast Asia: There was precious little for the United States to escalate with. American air power, in particular, was stretched very thin. Hoyt Vandenberg, the Air Force chief of staff, told the committee that Korea was already claiming a large part of America’s available air strength. “The Air Force part that is engaged in Korea is roughly 85 percent—80 to 85 percent—of the tactical capacity of the United States,” he said. “The strategic portion, which is used tactically, is roughly between one-fourth and one-fifth. The air defense forces are, I would judge, about 20 percent.”

. . .

Democrat Walter George of Georgia, echoing MacArthur’s assertion that “China is using the maximum of her force against us,” said it was unfair that MacArthur had to fight a limited war while the Chinese fought all out.

Omar Bradley responded that George was quite mistaken—and, by implication, that MacArthur was quite misleading. The Chinese were not fighting all out, not by a great deal. “They have not used air against our front line troops, against our lines of communication in Korea, our ports; they have not used air against our bases in Japan or against our naval air forces.” China’s restraint in these areas had been crucial to the survival of American and U.N. forces in Korea. On balance, Bradley said, the limited nature of the war benefited the United States at least as much as it did the Chinese. “We are fighting under rather favorable rules for ourselves.”

Vandenberg amplified this point ... “I would like to point out that that operates just as much a limitation, so far, for the Chinese as it has for the United Nations troops in that our main base of supply is the Japanese islands. The port of Pusan is very important to us ... Our naval forces are operating on the flanks allowing us naval gunfire support, carrier aircraft strikes, and the landing of such formations as the Inchon landing, all without the Chinese air force projecting itself into the area,” Vandenberg said. “Therefore, the sanctuary business, as it is called, is operating on both sides, and is not completely a limited war on our part.”

. . .

In other words—and this was Marshall’s crucial point, as it had been Vandenberg’s—the limitations on the fighting in Korea, so loudly assailed by MacArthur and his supporters, in fact favored the American side.

There's much more at the link.  Great reading for military history buffs, and a solid lesson in geopolitics as well - something that might benefit contemporary leaders, faced as they are with the present confused and uncertain international situation.

Peter

MiG-29's exercising aboard INS Vikramaditya

Last year India commissioned its latest aircraft carrier, INS Vikramaditya.

She was converted from a Kiev class vessel of the former Soviet navy.  The Indian Navy operates MiG-29K fighter aircraft from the ship.  They're launched with the aid of a ski-jump ramp on her bow (rather than catapult-launched as in the US Navy), but land using conventional arresting gear.

This video clip shows Russian-piloted MiG-29K's operating from the ship during its testing and working-up period last year.  Of particular interest is the small size of the ship compared to US Navy aircraft carriers.  Note the comparative sizes of the aircraft and the ship.  The MiG-29K is only a little smaller than the US Navy's F/A-18E/F Super Hornet (i.e. less than 10% smaller in critical dimensions), but it clearly has relatively little room to move about on the Vikramaditya's flight deck.  In contrast, video clips of the US Navy aircraft maneuvering aboard its carriers shows they have much more room available.

Watch the video in full-screen mode for best results.

I'll be interested to see whether Indian Navy fighter pilots, who'll have the opportunity to train with US Navy ships and perhaps fly with their US counterparts, find that the smaller size of their carrier imposes any restrictions on their operations.  For example, severe weather might make it almost impossible to maneuver safely, as aircraft will tend to slide on the deck if it's pitching and rolling heavily.

Peter

"The Story Nobody is Reporting On"

That's the title of Karl Denninger's latest blog post.  In it, he reiterates what he's been saying for years (and I've been doing likewise).

That's right -- the government intentionally destroyed almost 8% of your paycheck and your savings last year, running a $1.423 trillion dollar budget deficit, which is roughly equal to the worst of the "great recession" when tax revenues went through the floor.

Today there is no such "tax shortfall" excuse.

The breakdown of exactly where the ugly is coming from will be published next week.  I already know what is in there because I've been following the monthly treasury statements all fiscal year, but wish to report final "as tallied" facts -- and thus will have another post at that time.

Let me be clear: On the arithmetic if we do not stop this now within the next 4-5 years -- that is, within the next Presidential term -- our government will collapse, our economy will collapse, our health care system will collapse and both the stock and housing markets will collapse.  This is not politics, it's arithmetic.  And the worst part of it is that I am utterly certain that the "references" count, along with the "views" count on this article will both be a fraction of the politically-oriented articles I've recently posted.  That the real end of our way of life in America, a threat that is obvious, mathematically certain, not very far in the future and yet avoidable if we act now fails to garner any sort of serious attention is the real outrage folks.

There's more at the link.  It's essential reading, IMHO.

This really is the crux of this election.  If our political leaders don't stop their deficit spending and stabilize our budget, this nation - and almost every nation in the First World, for that matter - is headed for a collapse of monumental proportions.  Mathematically, it's inevitable.

Peter

"Brings The Lightning" is now available in audio format

I'm very happy to report that "Brings The Lightning", my first Western novel, is now available in audiobook format.

That means it's now available in four formats:  e-book, hardcover, softcover, and audiobook.  It's the first of my books to go the audio route, and hopefully it won't be the last:  I'm already talking with Castalia House about offering audiobook versions of all my novels.  I hope more of them will become available over the next year or two.

There's a surprising amount of work that goes into an audiobook.  It's not just taking the text, finding someone to read it, and "Hey presto!".  The quality of the recording has to be top-notch;  no background noises like traffic passing, toilets flushing, or kids demanding that Mom or Dad stop what they're doing and attend to their needs, at once if not sooner.  There's also the question of matching the voice to the book.  It just wouldn't work to have a Western read by someone sounding like a graduate of Oxford University, or born within the sound of Bow Bells, or educated in Grittystan or some other god-forsaken wilderness.  One has to select a voice that will complement the setting, tone and structure of the book if it's to work.  I think Castalia chose very well when they selected my narrator, Bob Allen.  (You can see more books narrated by him at this link.)

You can hear a brief sample of the audiobook edition at the link;  just click the link below the cover image.  I hope you enjoy it.  The good Lord willing and the creek don't rise (as they still say in the West, and elsewhere), Volume 2 of the Ames Archives will be out next year!

Peter

"Nukey McMeltface"???

You may recall that a couple of weeks ago, the US Air Force announced that its proposed new bomber aircraft would be officially known as the B-21 Raider.  The name was selected from thousands of public contributions and suggestions.  According to Aviation Week's Ares blog, not all of those suggestions were very helpful.

When U.S. Air Force Secretary Deborah James announced an internal naming competition for the Northrop Grumman B-21 in February, she may have underestimated the creativity of airmen and the pitfalls of public polling. Nukey McMeltface and Trump Bomber were among more than 2,100 submissions to a list that was released by the air branch on Sept. 22 after a number of freedom of information requests were filed seeking the document.

The responses ranged from historically informed to odd, witty and downright inappropriate, with airmen requesting the names Death Star, Meme Machine, Chuck Norris, Taxslayer and Mecca Wrecka.

. . .

Although most aspects of the B-21 program are steeped in secrecy, this document gives bomber observers at least 2,100 reasons to smile. Air Force leadership knew the list wouldn't be pretty, but it cannot be happy about making submissions such as "9/11 Coverup, Trump-nator, Dank American Bomber, and God's Sky Toy" public.

. . .

Other suggestions targeted the bomber’s estimated $80 billion price tag, specifically: Costbuster, Dollar Black Hole and Cost Overrun.

Dozens of names played off the UK's attempt at naming a polar research vessel, in which Boaty McBoatface emerged as the winner. James and her Chief of Staff wisely retained the right to select the name instead of holding a ballot, rejecting popular choices such as Stealthy McStealthface, Bombypants McGee and McLovin.

There are many more suggestions at the link.

Well, when they asked the large (and somewhat irreverent) community of aviation enthusiasts to come up with a name, what else did they expect?




Peter

"But he was cleaning up his life!"

I had to laugh at this report about a British 'drug' dealer who wasn't dealing drugs.

A conman who was found to be selling washing powder as cocaine has ended up in court for fraud.

Jamie Lee Taylor, 27, passed off the household cleaning product as Class A drugs for two months.

His enterprise paid off in the short term as he made "a fair bit of money", Teesside Crown Court heard.

But he ended up in the dock as he had broken the law, despite never having sold illegal narcotics.

Taylor pleaded guilty to offering to supply cocaine to others between July and September and "possession of an article for use in fraud" - three bags of white powder - on September 5.

. . .

Prosecutor Rachel Masters said: "Essentially, the defendant is purporting to sell drugs in the way that a drug dealer would sell drugs. He's making a fair bit of money out of it as a result."

Judge Simon Bourne-Arton QC, the Recorder of Middlesbrough, said he needed some time to think about the case.

He said he was not sure about passing sentence from guidelines for offences involving real drugs.

There's more at the link.

I can understand the judge's dilemma.  If he sentences Mr. Taylor according to the guidelines for drug dealing, but Mr. Taylor hadn't dealt drugs, he's likely to win on appeal.  If he sentences him according to the fraud guidelines, what fraud was committed?  After all, no drug dealer sells things called 'cocaine' or 'heroin' - they use street slang names (at least, all those I've met behind bars did so).  That being the case, it's going to be hard to pin down exactly what was sold compared to what the buyers thought they were getting.  Semantics matter, particularly in courts of law.

(There's also the fact that sentences are supposed to be a deterrent to crime . . . not a detergent!)




Peter

A crosswind landing: abort, retry, succeed

This footage was taken at Birmingham airport in England last weekend.  An Airbus A321 tried, and failed, to land in a nasty crosswind.  It had better luck the next time around.  Watch in full-screen mode for best results.

My bush pilot friends would call that 'hairy'.  I can't argue . . .

Peter

My wife has a new toy

Since we married, Miss D. and I have developed a sort of annual ritual.  Every year, I try to buy her a nice Damascus steel knife, something attractive and eye-catching.  I often find good blades at fellow author Mike Williamson's booth at LibertyCon (well, what would you expect from a man who names his business [and its Web site] 'Sharp Pointy Things', and one of whose children is known far and wide as 'Sharp Pointy Daughter'?)

This year, things went a little differently.  I did find a lovely dagger at Mike's booth, but a few of us decided it would be better suited for another of our friends.  (Look for it on the cover of one of Tom's books in the not too distant future.)  So, I had to find another knife for my lovely wife.  Where to look?

Fate took a hand when blacksmith (and knifesmith) Sven from Hunchback Ironworks e-mailed me.  He wanted a set of my books, and wondered whether I'd like to trade them for some blacksmith work.  Well, now . . . yes, as it happened, I did have something in mind!  Several e-mails to and fro later, and he had a commission to custom-make a knife for Miss D.  Unlike any I'd bought for her before, this one would be built 'from scratch', including forging the Damascus billet, obtaining the raw wood, then hand-crafting everything from the naked steel to the finished product.  A one-of-a-kind knife like that would obviously be much more expensive than a set of my books, so I threw in enough cash to make up the difference.

Sven's done a lovely job.  Here are a few pictures to illustrate it.  Click any one for a larger view.

The raw billet of Damascus steel

South American snakewood for the handle

The finished knife

A close-up of the finished blade
to highlight the patterns in the Damascus steel

It's a simple but very practical design, and looks beautiful.  It comes with a rustic-style distressed leather sheath, designed to look well-used.  I think it'll go very well with the (sometimes ornate) costumes Miss D. likes to wear to conventions.

A tip o' the hat to Sven for some great work.  He's posted a few more pictures of the knife on his own blog, and apparently some people have already liked it enough to place orders for their own versions.  If you'd like to do the same, I can certainly recommend his craftsmanship from personal experience.  Drop him a line at hunchbackironworks AT gmail DOT com.  (No, he's not paying me a commission or anything like that to mention his name.  I just appreciate good work, and like to let my readers know about it.)

Peter

Quote of the day

From author, blogger and buddy in meat- and cyberspace, Larry Correia:

This election is a train carrying toxic waste derailing into a sewage treatment plant.

Word.




Peter

Riots, race, law and order

Fred Reed has laid it on the line about the inevitable consequences if riots such as those in Charlotte a few days ago are allowed to continue.  Here's an excerpt.

When government will not or cannot enforce the laws, people prepare to go it alone. This merits attention. It won’t get it. Instead we will hear from the media about gun nuts and white racism, about slavery and discrimination and how we need to confiscate guns leaving black criminals as the only ones that have them. (It will not be expressed so candidly.) When part of the population arms to defend against attack by another part, it is time to think.

It is coming. One day rioting blacks will try to loot the wrong store, burn the wrong house, beat the wrong white man, and hell will cut loose. Talking about law-abiding blacks, law-abiding whites, will make no difference at all. There were law-abiding Protestants, law-abiding Catholics in Ireland. Did that stop the violence?

Three solutions, or ameliorations, offer themselves: Repression of rioting and enforcement of the law. Segregation. And having it go on forever or blow up hugely. Choose. Refusal to choose selects option three.

The problem is not racist police. It is racist blacks. Whites are not burning the businesses of blacks. White people are not sacking the stores of blacks. White people are not calling for the burning of black suburbs. White people do not play the Knockout game.
We are blaming the victims.

And we are encouraging disaster.

There's more at the link.  You really, really need to read the whole thing.  He lays it out logically, rationally . . . and mercilessly.  It really is that bad, right now.

Fred's right.  It is coming.  I know this.  I've worked with law enforcement for years, and I'm still in touch with many former colleagues.  I can assure you that right now, there are high-level meetings going on at federal, state and regional level, all over the country.  Law enforcement officers and administrators know that anger is growing, discontent is rising.  Ordinary, law-abiding citizens like you and I are asking, louder and louder, why rioters and extremists are permitted to get away with their actions while receiving nothing more than a legal slap on the wrist.  Business owners who are losing thousands, even millions of dollars to disruptions and destruction caused by rioters are asking - quite legitimately - why they should be forced to cover such costs when the state is allowing such destruction and such disruption to happen, instead of stopping it dead in its tracks.

People in neighborhoods all over the country are talking to one another, making plans about what to do if such disruptions come to their area, and discussing what they can do about it . . . legally or otherwise.  I know that for a fact, too.  I may be medically retired, but I'm still a chaplain and pastor, as well as a former military man, and I talk to people from those perspectives.  Some tell me what's on their minds and hearts, what's weighing on their souls.  I'm neither deaf nor blind to the realities of the situation.

The authorities know this is coming.  They also know they can't control it and they can't stop it.  Some to whom I've spoken have said bluntly that they have no intention of trying to control it.  In fact, I suspect those who actively resist the rioters will have an awful lot of sympathizers in the 'thin blue line' when the time comes.  Some may even have let their superiors know, informally, that any order to stop such organized resistance will be met with, if not outright mutiny, at best a very slow, lethargic response.  "By the time we got there, the trouble was over.  All we could do was clean up the mess.  We weren't able to locate any reliable witnesses - only a few radicals who were obviously making up everything they said.  The street cameras were 'shut down for maintenance' just before it happened, so there's no recording either.  Bottom line is, we've no idea who did it.  Pity about that."

I predict that one day in the not too distant future, one of the BLM-inspired riots is going to run headlong into an armed citizenry that's had enough of their s*** and won't take any more.  What happens then is going to make all the riots so far look like Sunday School picnics.

I hope and pray it doesn't get that far . . . but unless the authorities crack down on the rioters and their illegal behavior, it will, because people are going to crack down for themselves.  They've had enough.

Peter

Oops!

A tip o' the hat to reader E. J. for sending me the link to this video.

Thanks, E. J.  I'm still chuckling - although I bet the guys on the supply boat weren't!

Peter

A new social medium I can personally recommend

Like many of my readers, I've grown more and more angry over the politically correct censorship practiced by Twitter, Facebook and other social media.  Twitter, in particular, has been an egregious offender against the concept of free speech.  Sure, it's a private company, so it's not bound by the US Constitution and its First Amendment;  but it's behaving like a left-wing, progressive tinpot dictator, banning or restricting the posting abilities and/or readership of and/or links to centrist and right-wing commentators and personalities.  The practice has become so widespread that it's drawn attention from the media.  I'd registered as a user on Twitter, but never used the platform, largely because of the growing tide of resentment (which I share) against its censorship policies.

I was thus very pleased to learn that there's a new alternative to Twitter.  It's called Gab, and it guarantees explicitly that it will never censor anybody over their political, social, economic or other views, no matter how expressed.  A recent report noted:

Andrew Torba is the 25-year-old CEO of Gab.ai that was sick and tired of seeing conservatives having their opinions hushed by the over-reaching political correctness machine that is taking over America ... He wants to remove any bias from his platform by allowing the users, not editors from his company, choose what content is visible to users.

Gab has been described as a Twitter/Reddit hybrid where users can create 300-character messages that are then “upvoted” or “downvoted” by other users. Meaning posts that users find interesting or useful receive endorsements, much like an online review for a business. Users will also be allowed to “self censor” their posts by filtering out topics they choose themselves, rather than having an employee of the company choose what can or can not be seen.

Torba asserts that Gab is not a right-wing alternative to other major social media networks. The purpose of the site is to prevent censorship of any kind.

“It is not an alt-right Twitter replacement. Anyone is welcome. This is all about stopping the censorship going on right under our noses.”

There's more at the link.

Digital Trends had this to say:

The site has the basic functionality to follow other users, and, like Reddit, features an upvote and downvote system on posts that appear in their feed. The most upvoted posts appear in a popular, or trending tab.

The creators’ beliefs regarding the First Amendment aren’t tucked away in a privacy or site policies section. Rather, the home page flaunts a quote from British Indian novelist and essayist Salman Rushdie:

“What is freedom of expression? Without the freedom to offend, it ceases to exist.”

. . .

While there are some limits to freedom of speech on the site — threats of violence, illegal pornography, or the release of personal information without consent — Gab aims to put the onus on users to handle harassment.

Through keyword filtering, user muting, and the ability to only see content from verified users (the process involves presenting a valid form of ID), Gab removes itself from the moderator role, which it sees as the problem on social media today.

Again, more at the link.

Left-leaning and progressive media and sources are already trying to 'trash-talk' Gab, predicting that it'll become the home of alt-right 'racism,' or be just a flash in the pan, or go the way of many social media startups - into oblivion.  The latter may happen, of course, but I think its support level is already pretty impressive.  It's still under development, so there are occasional hiccups in service and delays in getting things sorted out, but I think it's off to a good start.  (If you apply to join, don't be surprised if it takes a few weeks for your request to be serviced.  There are, AFAIK, only four people on the team at Gab so far.  Like I said, it's a startup.  They're taking things one day at a time, not trying to hire extra staff they can't afford - which sounds like a good business decision to me.)

At any rate, I've joined Gab (my 'handle' - to use an old-fashioned CB term - is @PeterG).  If you, like I, have become frustrated by overt, in-your-face media bias and social media censorship, I recommend it to you.  I'd like to see Gab grow to become a viable alternative to Twitter, with real freedom of speech instead of an overreaching, politically-correct, progressive slant on everything.  (That includes any and all shades of opinion, political or otherwise.)

Whatever your views, drop in on Gab and see what you think.  To learn more, there's a brief tutorial on how to use it, and a video primer on YouTube.

Peter

Useful information for urban conflict situations

A few snippets of useful information have come my way over the past few days.  I thought you might find them helpful as well.

First, courtesy of Old NFO, here's a short video showing how difficult it is for police to make a shoot/don't-shoot decision.  If you get stopped by police for any reason, please think about that, and don't give them any surprises!

Next, Greg Ellifritz (whom we've met in these pages before) offers some good advice on 'Surviving Mob Attacks on Your Vehicle'.  It's an interesting article, and well worth reading in full.  In it, he refers to a video titled 'Using Your Car To Escape A Mob'.  That, too, is worth watching in full.  (I'm afraid I can't embed it here, but you'll find it at the link.

Peter

"A Republic, if you can keep it."

Those words were spoken by Benjamin Franklin after the Constitutional Convention in Philadelphia in 1787, in response to a question about what sort of nation the delegates had fashioned for the citizens of the new United States.

Very sadly, the republic in which we live today would seem like a ghastly apparition to most of our Founding Fathers, who had very different ideas about what they wanted.  Angelo Codevilla has written a very cogent analysis of the state of our Republic at the present time, and where we might go from here.  Here's a lengthy excerpt.  It's heavy reading, but well worth your time.

What goes by the name “constitutional law” has been eclipsing the U.S. Constitution for a long time. But when the 1964 Civil Rights Act substituted a wholly open-ended mandate to oppose “discrimination” for any and all fundamental rights, it became the little law that ate the Constitution. Now, because the Act pretended that the commerce clause trumps the freedom of persons to associate or not with whomever they wish, and is being taken to mean that it trumps the free exercise of religion as well, bakers and photographers are forced to take part in homosexual weddings. A commission in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts reported that even a church may be forced to operate its bathrooms according to gender self-identification because it “could be seen as a place of public accommodation if it holds a secular event, such as a spaghetti supper, that is open to the general public.” California came very close to mandating that Catholic schools admit homosexual and transgender students or close down. The Justice Department is studying how to prosecute on-line transactions such as vacation home rental site Airbnb, Inc., that fall afoul of its evolving anti-discrimination standards.

This arbitrary power, whose rabid guard-dog growls and barks: “Racist! Sexist! Homophobic!” has transformed our lives by removing restraints on government. The American Bar Association’s new professional guidelines expose lawyers to penalties for insufficient political correctness. Performing abortions or at least training to perform them may be imposed as a requirement for licensing doctors, nurses, and hospitals that offer services to the general public.

. . .

In today’s America, a network of executive, judicial, bureaucratic, and social kinship channels bypasses the sovereignty of citizens. Our imperial regime, already in force, works on a simple principle: the president and the cronies who populate these channels may do whatever they like so long as the bureaucracy obeys and one third plus one of the Senate protects him from impeachment. If you are on the right side of that network, you can make up the rules as you go along, ignore or violate any number of laws, obfuscate or commit perjury about what you are doing (in the unlikely case they put you under oath), and be certain of your peers’ support. These cronies’ shared social and intellectual identity stems from the uniform education they have received in the universities. Because disdain for ordinary Americans is this ruling class's chief feature, its members can be equally certain that all will join in celebrating each, and in demonizing their respective opponents.

And, because the ruling class blurs the distinction between public and private business, connection to that class has become the principal way of getting rich in America ... judicial decisions and administrative practice have divided Americans into “protected classes”—possessed of special privileges and immunities—and everybody else. Equality before the law and equality of opportunity are memories. Co-option is the path to power. Ever wonder why the quality of our leaders has been declining with each successive generation?

. . .

Progressivism’s programs have changed over time. But its disdain for how other Americans live and think has remained fundamental. More than any commitment to principles, programs, or way of life, this is its paramount feature ... The pseudo-intellectual argument for why these “deplorables” have no right to their opinions is that giving equal consideration to people and positions that stand in the way of Progress is “false equivalence,” as President Obama has put it.

. . .

Under our ruling class, “truth” has morphed from the reflection of objective reality to whatever has “normative pull”—i.e., to what furthers the ruling class’s agenda, whatever that might be at any given time. That is the meaning of the term “political correctness,” as opposed to factual correctness.

. . .

Never before has such a large percentage of Americans expressed alienation from their leaders, resentment, even fear. Some two-thirds of Americans believe that elected and appointed officials—plus the courts, the justice system, business leaders, educators—are leading the country in the wrong direction: that they are corrupt, do more harm than good, make us poorer, get us into wars and lose them. Because this majority sees no one in the political mainstream who shares their concerns, because it lacks confidence that the system can be fixed, it is eager to empower whoever might flush the system and its denizens with something like an ungentle enema.

There's much more at the link.  The bold text in the final paragraph is my emphasis.

Food for thought, and highly recommended reading.

Peter

Out of the aviation history books

A Chinese-language article provides interesting information about the first use in combat of the AIM-9 Sidewinder air-to-air missile, over the Taiwan Strait in 1958.

Thanks to Google Translate, we can read the story (with some difficulty).  Here's an excerpt.

The US government, after learning that China was prepared to further threaten the use of force against Taiwan, in August 1958 under the "Star Program" codenamed a group of short-range thermal-guided air-to-air missiles, still classified as first-hand secrets, Later officially numbered as AIM-9 Sidewinder missiles, quietly arrived in Hsinchu by air, and more generous authorized base commanders can use the appropriate conditions.

. . .

12th Squadron Reconnaissance Squadron Commander Yang Shikui Major, at 9:45 on September 24 driving RF-84 camera from Taoyuan, the target is Wenzhou and other regions. He was one of nine reconnaissance aircraft. As from the end of July, Taiwan's reconnaissance aircraft on several continents of the southeast coast of the detective, the relative, the increasing frequency of Chinese fighter interceptor. Therefore, the Air Force Combat Command judged that in today's wonders, the People's Liberation Army will be fully intercepted into the airspace of the reconnaissance aircraft.

In order to make the reconnaissance pilot has the greatest tactical use of flexibility, the Wenzhou Bay detective task is to carry out single plane, at the same time, the first 11 Hsinchu flight base battalion, led by the captain personally, sent F-86 "knife" Fighter planes to cover 18. With 18 to cover a way, on the target area for strong surveillance operations.

. . .

All the pilots have been prepared to face the rear occupying attacks of the PLA MiG-17 fighters, and both are full of alert. Because MiG-17 fighter performance is significantly better than the F-86F fighters, if not the general manager of cold Pei sentence: "hold the formation!" At that time most likely there will be post-3-4, will take Dive from the way to avoid being raided.

However, the team leader based on a number of considerations, seeing the left turn of the four MiG17, in order to be more careful, the first formation of a long machine Li Shuyuan immediately break the radio "only Shoufa" requirement, asked the second formation machine to turn left, 2 formation almost everyone at the same time press the button to speak loudly replied: "The left is the MiG machine!"

Because the radio was more old-fashioned, the same time there will be more than send people to interfere, so listen to Li Shuyuan's ears is a mess, so again in the radio shouting: "Leader answer! Tang Jiemin immediately called out: "The left is the MiG machine! Do not play will be they ran!"

Li Shuyuan led the first formation, in determining the batch is indeed the PLA MiG17 fighter, but also to see this by the four MiG17 fleet, turned right and then turned back to my first formation of the right side!

Chinese fighters of this illogical action, for a moment the national army pilots have doubts, this will openly leave the tail to the enemy to fight the way, obviously the PLA to lure the enemy tactics, so Li Shuyuan once again to radio warfare: "low there No radar intelligence (radar intelligence)? "War is categorical answer:" No! "

Li Shuyuan saw this opportunity, that "machine" can not be lost, immediately led the first formation machine right to track, and turn to about 70 degrees (East East) direction, from the MiG17 fighter about 1 million feet.

The first formation aircraft to push the nose to get the speed, immediately pulled to 39,000 feet, and then aligned MiG17 fighters, by the 1,3 machine Li Shuyuan, Qian Yiqiang the launch of a missile, see MiG17 fighter 2 Frame explosion fall.

At this moment, at 10:38 on September 24, 1958, the first time in the history of air combat with a missile shot down enemy aircraft records, by the ROC Air Force 44th squadron Li Shuyuan wrote.

There's more at the link, including more photographs.

During the same engagement, one of the Sidewinders hit a Chinese fighter jet, embedding itself in the fuselage, but did not explode.  The pilot made it back to base, from where the missile was sent to the Soviet Union for analysis.  It gave a jump-start to Soviet air-to-air missile capabilities, and was 'cloned' into the K-13 missile.

I have a personal interest in the subject.  South Africa bought early-model AIM-9B's to equip its Canadair Sabre Mk. 6 fighter aircraft.  It 'cloned' the first-generation AIM-9B version into the 'Voorslag' ('Whiplash') missile, which was an engineering exercise designed to build expertise in this technology.  It was never used in combat.  One of them is shown below.

Along with information gleaned from the similar French Matra R-550 Magic missile, the project formed the basis for South Africa's V-3 Kukri missile, shown below, which was itself further developed over the years.

I had some contact with the development team for the the V-3 series of missiles.  It was an interesting time.

It's strange to think that the same basic Sidewinder missile used almost 60 years ago is still in front-line service, albeit with greatly updated and more advanced electronics, motor, etc.  The first AIM-9 model to enter service had a range of only about 2 nautical miles, and carried a 10-pound warhead.  Its infra-red sensor could only home onto a target from the rear aspect (i.e. behind the enemy aircraft, where the engine exhaust was hottest and most visible).  Today's fourth-generation AIM-9X has a range more than ten times as great, a warhead more than twice as large (and much more efficient), and can accelerate much faster to a much higher top speed.  It's also all-aspect-ratio (i.e. it can home onto a target from any angle, not just from astern).

You'll find an informative summary of the missile's development and its various versions here.

Peter

Racism for sure - but not on the part of the police

It seems that certain elements in left-wing, progressive, racially conscious circles are jumping the shark in their attempts to convict police of racism.  Officer.com reports:

In a new report by Charlotte’s WCNC TV, closely following the events as they unfold after the shooting of Keith Lamont Scott, a spokesman for the Charlotte-Mecklenberg branch of the NAACP insisted that the race of the officer doesn’t count because black officers “give up their blackness” when they become police officers; when they put on the blue uniform.

“Many black people who become police officers become blue, not black,” the organization told the station. “In order for you to survive in a police department, you take on the police department’s ideology, ways of life, and culture.”

The implication of that statement is twofold: first, that black police officers ignore their own background, heritage and culture once they put on a police uniform.  How insulting. That individuals who take on one of the toughest and most thankless jobs in the country today could be so soft of will that they bury their own values and beliefs to assume those of the agency that hires them is an insult to those doing so. Further, the implication that every law enforcement agency coast-to-coast embraces a racist outlook and uses such as motivation for performance is appalling.  Following that logic, then every officer who is forced to shoot any criminal is motivated by the race of the criminal to do so.

. . .

As has been reported, representatives of Black Lives Matter, and now apparently also a part of the NAACP, have said that the justification or lack thereof in the shooting of any black man no longer matters.  They now claim that the shooting of any black man for any reason, even if it’s fully legal and justified and required to save the lives of others, is racist.  They’ve also now specified that it doesn’t matter what the race of the officer who pulls the trigger is.

There's more at the link.

To call such attitudes on the part of BLM or the NAACP 'grossly insulting' is an understatement.  To call them 'racist' is nothing more or less than the truth.  Unfortunately, these people are no longer interested in the truth.  If they were, they would have reported - and accepted - the truth about the victim of the Charlotte shooting:  that he was armed, that he didn't obey police instructions, and that he was shot because his behavior was perceived as threatening.  They would have accepted that so-called 'witnesses' lied when they said he had a book, not a gun, in his hand (when all the while the gun was clearly visible on the ground as police tried to save the injured man's life).  They would have acknowledged that the officer who shot the victim was black, not white, and that racism therefore didn't enter into the equation at all.

They did none of those things, because they don't care about the truth.  They care only about inflaming emotions, so that they can lead the mob in its rampage and use it as a political pressure tactic to accomplish their ends.

The truth is not in them . . . so why the hell should I, or anyone else, have any respect for them, or pay any attention to their lies?  And why the hell should any of us have to permit them to invade our cities and suburbs, destroy and loot and steal and threaten and assault and lie, and do nothing to stop them?  As Gavin McInnes put it, to them, rioting has become an 'unbeatable high'.  If the police are going to pull back and give them space and time to riot - as the Mayor of Baltimore so infamously put it, '[giving] those who wished to destroy space to do that as well' - why shouldn't we protect our own neighborhoods, by any and all means necessary?

I suspect more and more Americans are asking those questions . . . and I suspect most of us are coming up with pretty similar answers.




Peter

Chicago's inner city reality

The BBC recently made a short documentary titled 'The lost streets of Chicago'.  It's less than 15 minutes long, but it reveals the tragic reality of inner-city life there.  It's worth your time to watch it.  After you've done so, I'll have a few things to say about it.

Finished it?  Well, think about these things.

1. How many families did you see - fathers, mothers and children all living together?  There were virtually none.  Family life is largely non-existent in our inner-city ghettoes.  The result is that children grow up without the role models of father, mother and family stability that the rest of us take for granted.  That, in turn, feeds the nihilistic self-destructiveness of ghetto life.
2. Notice how everybody blames everyone except themselves for the problems.  It's always someone else's fault - the Man, the gangs, the system, the police, etc.  If it isn't some one else, it's some thing else:  drugs, or guns, or whatever.  No-one's willing to say, "The problem starts with me, and if I want to change it, I have to start by changing myself."
3. Notice, too, how everyone simply goes along with the daily routine.  They accept the problems as a fact of life, and wait for outside intervention to deal with them.  They won't - perhaps they believe they can't - do anything about them for themselves.  In most of the places I've lived, that attitude is conspicuous by its absence.  If that sort of violence began to creep in, neighbors would form watches to keep an eye on their own streets.  If some individuals didn't adhere to the unspoken social compact, they wouldn't be around for long . . . one way or another.  (See, for example, how we kept order in Louisiana after Hurricane Gustav in 2008.  What's stopping inner-city locals doing the same for their own communities?)
4. The people involved are human beings, with human feelings, emotions, etc.  However, when they get together in their gangs - as demonstrated by the rapping youngsters waving guns at the camera - they stifle those feelings and emotions, and become high on a group dynamic of destructive behavior.  The police and the authorities, of course, respond to those groups as groups, rather than as individuals - so those in need of help to change don't get it, because they're never addressed as individuals.  It's a no-win situation for both sides.
5. Basically, the authorities don't care.  They could stop this nonsense almost overnight by cracking down hard;  but that would take a large investment of money, and time, and staff, and a lot of hard work.  They don't have those things to spare . . . so they ignore the reality of the situation, and paper over the cracks.

Food for thought, indeed.

Peter

Cycling through Finland . . . in March . . . in hip-deep snow

Noel Coward famously said that "Mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun".  However, it seems that the deep midwinter snow in far northern climes attracted at least one Englishman - and on two wheels, at that.

Tim Moore began a 10,000-mile journey along the Iron Curtain in Finland, riding a Cold War-era MIFA 900 East German urban shopping bicycle (which broke in two on more than one occasion).  He's written a book about his experiences, titled 'The Cyclist Who Went Out in the Cold'.

It'll be published in the USA in November, and on October 6th in the UK.  Here's an excerpt from the book to whet your appetite, published in the Telegraph in London.

When the writer Tim Moore heard of  a new bike trail tracking the old  Iron Curtain, he found himself recklessly inspired. To a child of the Cold War  who had spent his boyhood twiddling  through eerie Soviet signals on  a short-wave radio, the freedom to roam this continent-cleaving frontier still seemed extraordinary.

Having retraced the 1914 Giro d’Italia on a 99-year-old bike with wooden wheels for his last book, and taken on the Tour de France for another, all that remained was to select an authentic steed for the challenge. And quite soon, for €56 via German eBay, he found it: a vintage East German shopping bike.

Superficially a match for capitalist urban bicycles, the MIFA 900 lacked gears, featured a terrible ‘spoon brake’ that had elsewhere died out with the penny-farthing, and was so poorly engineered that it routinely broke in half.

Moore  had barely turned a pedal in a year, and was about to turn 51. The planned trip was 10,000km – three times further  than he had ever ridden in one go. And for the sake of consistency, he set off during the Arctic winter...

To the cyclist, snow is like sand. If you’ve ever ridden a bike on  the beach, you will have an idea of  the consequent impact on speed and ease of progress.

Every kilometre was an attrition of gasps and slithers, one more battle in this hopeless campaign to conquer a hostile infinity.  I gazed through a fleece-framed slit across iced lakes and forests, my snood-muffled huffing the only sound in a cryogenic realm of white silence.

I saw my first reindeer, a mournful taupe column shuffling through the snow with antlers downcast, on their lonely trek to a farmer’s casserole. Once every hour or so a car barrelled waywardly past, piloted by a blank-faced man in a docker’s hat with a fag between his lips.

To preserve my bond with humanity I duly saluted each and every one, though with my many-gloved hands wedged fast in my pogies (as I’m afraid those oven-mitt handlebar covers are known), all I could manage by way of  greeting was a wink. Until we hit minus-13,  and my eyelashes started freezing together.

It was way past six now, and the sun’s long goodbye was gilding the alabaster wilderness  in a manner that would have doubtless looked wonderful through a heated windscreen. I lowered my gaze to the Garmin GPS screen, and watched the temperature flash down to -14.2C.

Somewhere inside their six-layer cocoon of rubber, merino wool and polythene, my toes died, a farewell klaxon-scream of agony fading into wooden numbness.

Far more terrible, though, was the message that soon emerged from within my pogies: the thrice-gloved fingers that had been clawed rigid round the bars all afternoon now felt fluidly, lazily aglow, drawling for release from their four-walled thermal prison.

Here they came, the opiate delusions of hypothermia, luring me off to a peaceful, stupid death.  Withdrawal, confusion, sleepiness, irrationality… My mind riffled desperately through  the stages of hypothermic consciousness that preceded ‘apparent death’ in an online chart I’d found, hoping to recall which one bore the dreaded footnote: ‘By this stage you may already be too far gone to recognise the problem.’

It didn’t help that sleepy, irrational confusion had been my default state for 48 hours. How much further? I looked at the Garmin and met a blank screen – the battery had gone.

Hysteria welled in my guts. Did I have 5k left? Ten? The celestial dimmer switch was on the twist from dusk  to dark, and I hadn’t seen a car for at least two hours.

When the road now curved uphill I succumbed to full-blown panic, pedalling so hard that my studded rear wheel began to fishtail wildly through the snow and its underlay of polished ice.

Sweat sluiced down me, defrosting my eyelashes and stinging the mad red orbs behind them. Calm the f— down! With a supreme effort I steadied my breathing and slithered to a halt, and there, winking through the trees and the frosted gloaming, was a cluster of lights.

So unfolded the longest, hardest days of my entire life. The mornings began with a bleary, fearful peek through many layers of bedroom glass, scanning the sullen sky, the thermometer nailed to the window frame outside, and beneath it the wobbly, last-gasp slalom my wheels had traced through the snow the night before.

Twelve hours later I would stumble into a hotel reception, or a log cabin, or a reindeer farm, and stand there, shuddering and melting, while my refrigerated, undernourished brain struggled to process thoughts into speech.

There's much more at the link.  Entertaining and informative reading - with plenty of misadventures thrown in.  (I learned a lot about saunas.)

The book certainly sounds like an entertaining read, although the journey is not one I'd care to retrace myself!  I'll be adding it to my 'To Read' list.

Peter