Some People Have No Sense of Humor.

Remember the Redneck Christmas decoration post? Well, reader Aaron sent me a link to a news story where some neighbors aren’t amused, it seems.

Display Shows Bleeding Rudolph Hanging From Tree

ORLANDO, Fla. — A holiday display is getting some negative attention from neighbors. A homeowner’s display in the Hunter’s Creek subdivision features Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer hanging from a tree.

“Hunter’s Creek”? And they don’t like a field-dressed deer?

One red light represents its nose and the rest appear to be blood draining from Rudolph’s body. The display represents a hunting technique called field dressing, which is what hunters do to a deer they kill, but many neighbors say it disgusts them.

“It’s just kind of sad for the kids, ’cause they see that and it’s just not a very good example,” said neighbor Kathleen McMahon.

“I don’ think it’s very nice at all. It’s Rudolph and I think that’s really nasty,” said neighbor Bree McMahon.

The homeowner wouldn’t talk to Channel 9 Wednesday night.

Neighbors said they just want the display taken down.

Here’s the picture I like best:

The other deer looks a bit spooked.

Honestly, I can see how some people would be offended, and I don’t have a white wire-frame illuminated Donner or Blitzen hanging in my front yard right now because of that.

But if I had a suitable tree in my back yard…

Racism, Sexism, and Other “-isms”.

A couple of weeks ago I got a solicitation email from “Rev. Billy Gisher” looking for a link to his site, Less People, Less Idiots. I wrote about it on Dec. 1. I perused the site a bit, but am currently unconvinced as to the… well, that’s neither here nor there.

However, the Rev. sent out similar emails to others, and he got another hit from a pretty far-left blog written by – well, let me reproduce her self-description:

Sexually, I identify as straight, and racially, as Chinese Canadian, Asian American, or Asian Pacific Islander American (APIA). Calling me anything else is unacceptable. Religiously, I identify primarily as agnostic, but I also have tinges of buddhism, christianity, atheism and wicca. Yeah, I know, it’s weird. Politically, I’m a feminist (in the equal gender rights way, not the ‘die, man-creature, die’ way), a libertarian-ish democrat (officially unaffiliated with any party), pro-choice, anti-capital punishment, pro-gun control, pro-gay marriage, anti-stupidity, etc., etc., etc.

Her post about The Rev’s site linked to TSM, calling it (and I quote)

a super-duper-uber right-wing gun-blog

Well! I couldn’t let that go unanswered, so I left a comment. Come to find out, she’s doing graduate work at the University of Arizona here in Tucson, so I made certain she understood that the invitation to go shooting – “regardless of your position on the right to arms” – was most definitely open. The discussion got… interesting. One commenter suggested I invite my wife to join the discussion, since I mentioned she’s Okinawan by birth and by citizenship.

Now, my wife dislikes the internet, or at least the blogosphere, and I’ve learned to limit the amount of stuff I force on her from here, but I took him up on his invitation. Unfortuately, by the time I printed out the comment thread and gave it to her to read, it was time to pack the computer up for the work on the house.

Well, it got a reaction. She did something she’s never done before (and swears she’ll never do again). She wrote a reply. Longhand. I finally got the computer set back up last night, and I typed it up and gave it to her to proofread. She’s happy with it. If you want to know the background, please go to Jenn’s post Lesser Idiots, read the post and read the entire comment thread. But I promised her I’d post the piece here as well. Here goes:

Dear Asian Son and Asian Daughter:

My birth name is Hanashiro Kaoru. Hanashiro in both Japanese and Okinawan means “flower castle.”

I do not have high respect for people who hide behind a computer screen and argue and degrade each other in blog comments. I prefer face-to-face conversations. But then that’s me.

Life is so precious and so short… I’d rather live life. So this will be the first and last article I will ever post on any site. My time is precious. I have grandchildren to love and teach (just like all the Asian grandmothers before me.)

I am writing this not on my husband’s behalf. He is too narrow and close-minded when it comes to the Second Amendment. I’m certain that idea comes from his environment. NO! I do not agree with everything he believes. This article is directed mostly to you, “DumbGuy2,” who, by the way, requested my comments.

I have read many print-outs my husband has given me in the past ten years. Mostly they bored me. Into a coma. But your comments awakened something within myself that I thought “familiar.” The teachings of my grandmother and all the elders who thought that all Americans (Hakujin – whites) are bad. Hiroshima, Nagasaki, Tokyo. Battles fought in Okinawa. American occupation of Okinawa. So on and so on. Our history!

When I was nine years old I wore the band around my head and joined my fellow Okinawans in a demonstration against Americans, yelling in the loudest voice I could find, “Yankees go home!” How rad, huh? My Asian son, that year my mother remarried.

I was raised by my ancient Asian grandmother. I still remember most of her sayings: “We are from the Lord’s house. It is in our blood and in our name.” (Some of our ancestors used to work for the King of Ryuku – the Okinawan islands. So she said.) If you left a grain of rice in the bowl, you were yelled at for being ungrateful to the farmers who worked so hard to harvest the rice. Or worse, you were told that all those Chinese gods my grandmother prayed to would be mad, and SLAP!

Jenn, Okinawans from my grandmother’s generation lived by the Chinese calendar. Our ways are the same. Jenn you are young and intelligent. I’d like to give you an important (life saving) bit of advice. From an Asian mother to an Asian daughter, DO NOT MEET ANYONE YOU KNOW ONLY FROM THE INTERNET. James is so right. It is not that my husband is dangerous. He asked me to come if you agree to go shooting. (Too cold! I’m not going.) My husband is naive, but believes in his cause. I would not let my daughter do what he is asking of you. To meet a stranger with guns. Are you crazy?!

Jenn, go live life. Meet people face to face. Travel and meet and see and experience different cultures and their people.

Let’s go back to my Asian son, DumbGuy2. Hate is non-productive and that mindset will blind you from what is so good and beautiful about life. I know… I’ve done it myself.

I had a job that taught me the Greatest Lessons of Life. I was a language operator for MCI. We provided I think around 17 different languages for our customers. We were better than the UN. I worked alongside operators from all around the world. We worked beside the English operators – locals. There I learned, no matter where you are from we loved, we cried, we laughed. We all had the same human emotions. When we were physically hurt we all bled red blood. Asians, Western Europeans, Eastern Europeans, Arabs, Africans, American Indians, African-Americans, whites, Jews, we are all a human race. I teach my grandchildren (whites) who are raised by their Asian grandmother this: “There is only one race on this planet. A Human Race. Don’t ever forget it.”

My Asian son, the greatest man who saved me from this race-hatred that was taught to me ever since I can remember was an Irish-American white man. He is my father – my step-father. I never called him step-dad because he is the only father I’ve known and need. He is my saint and I love and respect him always. But because of all my teachings by the Elders, my father paid for it. Hate is a bad thing.

When my mother got remarried to an American, I was determined to revenge the shame that my mother had placed on my family. (I was only nine years old.) I was bad! My father never gave up on me. He never wavered, had all the patience of all the saints combined. He was always there for me. He taught me the true meaning of family and paternal love. I am writing this article on his behalf. Not all white people are bad. Some are great! My father, George Washington, Einstein, and so on.

So, my Asian son, don’t hate so much. Life is not about us being Asians. Life is about how we all live our lives. But due to my grandmother’s teaching, there are two promises I made that I can’t seem to break:

1) Never forget our language – I just know basic Japanese.

2) Never become an American. Funny, even though I’ve lived here 37 years I still see my grandmother’s face every time I tried to fill out the citizenship papers. So, I am still Japanese. But before my father passes away, I think my love for this great white man will prevail and someday I will become a citizen.

I will end here. No comments please. I’d rather be with people I truly love. Life’s short.

P.S.: Why didn’t the Elders ever mention Pearl Harbor, or the killings in Nanking when I was young?


Like I said in The Seven Things Meme post, she’s not afraid to argue her beliefs –especially when they don’t agree with mine!

I Hope She Wins a Fortune.

Ravenwood reportsthat 58 year-old Patricia Konie, the woman a California cop assaulted in her own New Orleans home, disarmed and “evacuated” her from that home by force during the aftermath of hurricane Katrina, has filed a federal lawsuit. Among other things, she received a fractured shoulder from the assault. The officer assaulted her in front of TV cameras, and the video is still available online. It’s pretty open-and-shut in my opinion, but then the .gov is involved, so you never know.

The story is here, but at the time of this posting the link isn’t working.

The Seven Things Meme

Gunscribe over at From the Heartland has tagged me with the latest meme. So, here goes:

Seven things to do before I die

Build my ’67 Fastback big-block Mustang.

Build a true 1,000 yard-capable rifle.

And learn to shoot it well.

Shoot a perfect 40×40 in IHMSA competition (if I ever start shooting IHMSA again.)

Win the lottery (I can dream…)

Buy my dream house. (We remodeled this one because I couldn’t get the house I wanted. Yet.)

Write a book on my philosophy – just so I can get my mind around it all.

Seven things I cannot do

Stay off the internet.

Carry a tune worth a damn.

Sleep peacefully through an entire night.

Speak a foreign language. (Studied Spanish in college. That’s gone. Tried Japanese – gotta try again.)

Type fast enough to keep up with my thoughts. At least not accurately.

Get a pilot’s license. (Don’t think I’d pass a flight physical anyway.)

Read fast enough.

Seven things that attract me to my wife

She knows her priorities: Family first.

She’s fierce: about family, about loyalty, about honor, about everything.

Her sense of humor has warped to match mine – I can make her laugh.

Her laugh.

She thinks – and she’s not afraid to argue her beliefs –especially when they don’t agree with mine. (Post to follow illustrating this)

We understand each others space – and we need it. Both of us.

The way she…. No, can’t talk about that. (But WHOA!)

Seven things I say most often

This is Kevin, how may I help you? (To the customers.)

Let me drop everything and work on your problem. (To the salesmen.)

(Recently) It’s how much?

(Also recently) Put it on the card.

(Most especially recently) Aren’t we finished yet?

Sweet bleeding jebus. (Nod to Acidman for that one.)

Thank you. (Really. I say that a lot.)

Seven Books (or series) that I love

The General by S.M. Stirling and David Drake – consists of five books, The Forge, The Hammer, The Anvil, The Steel, The Sword. I read it about once a year.

Eric Flint’s 1632 and all of its ancillary works. Hell of an alternate universe he’s created there.

Lois McMaster Bujold’s Vorkosigan Saga – all of it. And pretty much anything else Lois writes.

The Science Fiction Hall of Fame, Vol. I. I first read this collection of classics from the Golden Age of SF when I was about thirteen. It absolutely hooked me on science fiction. Incredible collection of short stories. And it’s back in print, too.

Heinlein’s The Moon is a Harsh Mistress. I own everything by Heinlein except his last/first, posthumously published novel. The quality of his work faded a bit with his health, but The Moon is a Harsh Mistress helped mold my political outlook, and it’s a damned fine read to boot.

John D. MacDonald’s Travis McGee novels.

Robert B. Parker’s Spenser novels. These last two greatly influenced my personal philosophy.

And seven isn’t nearly enough to cover my favorites.

Seven Movies I watch Over and Over again

I don’t really do this, except when I stumble upon them on TV, but here’s a few:

Pretty much anything with John Wayne in it, but especially The Quiet Man, The Shootist, Big Jake, True Grit, and Rooster Cogburn.

Laurence of Arabia – as long as it’s shown in letterbox. Without commercial interruption.

Aliens – perhaps the best SF action flick ever.

Seven Suckers I want to infect

Steven Den Beste


Doc Russia

Fran Porretto

Mike of Feces Flinging Monkey

C. Dodd Harris – Leave it as a comment, Dodd.

Ry Jones

Here’s the questions:

Seven things to do before I die
Seven things I cannot do
Seven things that attract me to (…)
Seven things I say most often
Seven books (or series) that I love
Seven movies I watch over and over again (or would if I had time)
Seven people I want to join in, too.

It Takes a Lot to Piss Me Off.

Getting blatantly lied to generally does it. People displaying ignorance, on the other hand, just piques me a bit. But when someone takes ignorance, ingests just enough fact, and then regurgitates – let’s not pussyfoot – vomits their asshole opinion, sometimes that’s enough.

Today, I had just such an experience.

The lefty blog The People’s Republic of Seabrook, run by one Jack Cluth, has as its address “” – just so we know that Jack’s an intellectual, I suppose. Jack is an unabashed Leftist, victim of Bush Derangement Syndrome, and all-around opponent of the war in Iraq, given the postings I’ve reviewed there. But one really took the cake. Not the post, so much. That’s just a combination of his personal political bias combined with his ignorance of matters military and his knee-jerk reaction to a three-hundred word “news” story.

No, what pissed me off was the picture he chose to illustrate his post. I don’t know if he created it, or if he plucked it off the web somewhere because it appealed to him – and in either case I don’t really give a damn – because it illustrates his derangement perfectly.

Let’s discuss the story – hell, let’s reproduce it in its entirety:

Family Upset Over Soldier’s Body Arriving As Freight

Bodies Sent To Families On Commercial Airliners

There’s controversy over how the military is transporting the bodies of service members killed overseas, 10News reported.

A local family said fallen soldiers and Marines deserve better and that one would think our war heroes are being transported with dignity, care and respect. It said one would think upon arrival in their hometowns they are greeted with honor. But unfortunately, the family said that is just not the case.

Dead heroes are supposed to come home with their coffins draped with the American flag — greeted by a color guard.

But in reality, many are arriving as freight on commercial airliners — stuffed in the belly of a plane with suitcases and other cargo.

John Holley and his wife, Stacey, were stunned when they found out the body of their only child, Matthew John Holley, who died in Iraq last month, would be arriving at Lindbergh Field as freight.

Matthew was a medic with the 101st Airborne unit and died on Nov. 15.

“When someone dies in combat, they need to give them due respect they deserve for (the) sacrifice they made,” said John Holley.

John and Stacey Holley, who were both in the Army, made some calls, and with the help of U.S. Sen. Barbara Boxer, Matthew was greeted with honor and respect.

“Our familiarity with military protocol and things of that sort allowed us to kind of put our foot down — we’re not sure other parents have that same knowledge,” said Stacey Holley.

The Holleys now want to make sure every fallen hero gets the proper welcome.

The bodies of dead service members arrive at Dover Air Force Base.

From that point, they are sent to their families on commercial airliners.

Reporters from 10News called the Defense Department for an explanation. A representative said she did not know why this is happening.

Now, I’d like some follow-up on this piece. “With the help of Sen. Barbara Boxer” Matthew Holley was “greeted with honor and respect.” Even though, I suppose, he was shipped as (gasp!) AIR CARGO!

This isn’t, however, what pissed Jack Cluth off. Let me quote from his post:

OK, let’s imagine something for just a second. Let’s say that Bill Clinton was still in office. And let’s say that the bodies of dead American soldiers were being shipped to their families as freight, stuffed in the cargo hold of a plane along with the luggage?

If Republicans were to get wind of this sort of Democratic perfidy, CAN YOU IMAGINE THE WEEPING AND GNASHING OF TEETH, AND THE PEALS OF RIGHTEOUS INDIGNATION that would be raining down upon a Democratic Administration? And guess what? They’d have a damn good point. So why then is it acceptable for Our Glorious Leader’s Administration to be shipping the bodies of fallen soldiers as they would Aunt Ethel’s luggage? It’s simple, really; because Democrats simply lack the cojones to to raise Hell and demand that this disrespect stop IMMEDIATELY.

Old Jack is angry because the Democrats haven’t made a talking point out of it.

Here’s a clue, Jack: The military has always shipped deceased service members home by air cargo – with escort. Why the Defense Department representative didn’t know that is beyond me. Perhaps the reporter didn’t call the right department? Regardless, what would you prefer – private jet? Wouldn’t you then complain about the expense? Ship them in a first-class seat with a martini to hand? Detail an Air Force cargo jet for each individual soldier?

If you knew anything about the military, you would know that usually – not always, but usually – they treat their dead with the utmost honor. And if you read any of the right-wing or milblogs, you would have read this Rocky Mountain News in-depth report on just how the Marines honor their fallen, Final Salute. However, it runs a wee bit longer than 305 words and it requires an attention span. And some shred of honor.

Let me quote some of it:

The American Airlines 757 couldn’t have landed much farther from the war.

The plane arrived in Reno on a Friday evening, the beginning of the 2005 “Hot August Nights” festival – one of the city’s biggest – filled with flashing lights, fireworks, carefree music and plenty of gambling.

When a young Marine in dress uniform had boarded the plane to Reno, the passengers smiled and nodded politely. None knew he had just come from the plane’s cargo hold, after watching his best friend’s casket loaded onboard.

At 24 years old, Sgt. Gavin Conley was only seven days younger than the man in the coffin. The two had met as 17-year-olds on another plane – the one to boot camp in California. They had slept in adjoining top bunks, the two youngest recruits in the barracks.

All Marines call each other brother. Conley and Jim Cathey could have been. They finished each other’s sentences, had matching infantry tattoos etched on their shoulders, and cracked on each other as if they had grown up together – which, in some ways, they had.

When the airline crew found out about Conley’s mission, they bumped him to first-class. He had never flown there before. Neither had Jim Cathey.

On the flight, the woman sitting next to him nodded toward his uniform and asked if he was coming or going. To the war, she meant.

He fell back on the words the military had told him to say: “I’m escorting a fallen Marine home to his family from the situation in Iraq.”

The woman quietly said she was sorry, Conley said.

Then she began to cry.

When the plane landed in Nevada, the pilot asked the passengers to remain seated while Conley disembarked alone. Then the pilot told them why.

The passengers pressed their faces against the windows. Outside, a procession walked toward the plane. Passengers in window seats leaned back to give others a better view. One held a child up to watch.

From their seats in the plane, they saw a hearse and a Marine extending a white-gloved hand into a limousine, helping a pregnant woman out of the car.

The piece runs twelve pages. I guarantee you that if you have a soul, you’ll be in tears by the end of it. Barbara Boxer need not apply.

Now I ask you: Which party do you think would be more willing to ship our honored dead home like this:

That’s the picture Mr. Cluth used to illustrate his outrage. Which party is shouting “We can’t win! Cut and run! Cut and run!”

Marines not honoring their dead? Not on this planet. But I’ve about concluded that the Democrats in power and their vocal supporters have lost any hint of that virtue.

UPDATE: In true compassionate, inclusive, diversity-embracing Leftist style, Jack’s most recent post suggests that he’s in favor of the homosexual rape of prisoners by prison guards. So long as the rape victim is a Republican.

But his side deserves to be in charge.

Update II: Jack’s discovered this post, and has a reply up. Read the comments.

Update III: Jack seems to think that posting a Ted “I’m a piece of human excrement” Rall “cartoon” is a rebuttal. Or he never bothered to read the Rocky Mountain News piece. Wouldn’t want to confuse himself with anything like facts.

No, I’m Not Dead…

…and neither is this site. I should have my home computer reconnected by Tuesday. However, we still have a lot of reassembly work to do around the house, so my time is going to be severely limited for a bit longer.

Thanks for checking in here, though.

I Love My Wife, But Sam

What a woman!

I kind of like the Steyr AUG, but I’d prefer the new semi-auto version of the FN P90. (Hint, hint.)

(Still posting from work.)