Flying the dragon.

I know a number of readers here have seen the world outside of the United States, and I think many will agree with my favorite sentiment:

It's not the people of other countries I necessarily have a problem with, it's the governments of other countries that I have a problem with.

United States government being at or near the top of the list.

I've also often said that if the time came to leave North America, my first choice would probably be Asia.

I have no problems with the Chinese people, mainland, Hong Kong or Taiwan. No problems with the Japanese, the Koreans, Thais, Cambodians, Laotians, Malaysians, Filipinos, Vietnamese.

At no time have I ever been treated other than graciously and with utmost respect and honor in their cultures.

The same cannot be said of experiences in Paris or Washington DC or Quebec.

Radical religions, extremist government ruin people. Of course, those institutions are led by extremist people.

Every crowd seems to have them.

But check out this video. It's breathtaking and exhilarating. The scenery is captivating and truly awesome. It will put a smile on your face.

Most of all, though, look at the Chinese people enjoying the experience. They're just like you and me. You can see the working class people, the smiles on their face for enjoying some time away from the house and the job. The students on the bridge, youthful innocence filled with passion and hope.

I'm an American. I love my country. I served it in uniform, and defended it from behind a badge. But it's the people, our spirit, our history--brief as it may be compared to most other countries--that I defend and not our government.

At the end of the day, we all have the same hopes and dreams.

Share this video. It's a good reminder that although language, looks and culture may separate us, our hearts are interchangeable.

Never forget that.

The government's manipulation of your mind continues. Fortunately, only the idiots believe it.

There used to be a time in which you could actually trust some mainstream financial publications like The Wall Street Journal. But as we've seen of late, Wall Street has fallen into the pocket of Washington D.C., so it stand to reason that the WSJ has as well.

Look at the headline from a few days ago, "Jobless claims fall to nearly four-year low."

By this reckoning, we should be on Happy Street, singing Zippity-Doo-Da out our collective butts.

Why is no one dancing except for the Obamas?

The housing market is down. Gasoline prices are skyrocketing again. Many national retailers, even, like Walgreens are on a national hiring freeze. Jobs lost are not being replaced at the nation's largest drug store chain except in case-by-case scenarios.

But the government releases a report about jobless claims using Enron-accounting like tactics, and a publication once respected like the Wall Street Journal jumps right on and happily parrots what this administration demands we believe.

The reality is that there are a variety of other factors at play here, chiefly of which is that we, as a nation, are going broke faster than Terrell Owens.

Even at 99 weeks of unemployment, or almost two years, people laid off around or after the anointment of the Chosen One have exhausted ALL benefits. They CAN'T apply for new jobless claims because they ain't got any.

So, they become a new statistic to the government by becoming a non-person. They can't file a new unemployment claim, so therefore our geniuses inside the Beltway conclude that they must've found work.

Only the head-up-the-ass elected clowns and their mindless minions can come up with logic like that.

Only the American mainstream media can believe it.

Only Utopian American liberals can trust in our government.

No wonder we're in such bad shape.

Want a more realistic indicator of how our job market is doing? Take a look at the number of Americans on food stamps and other supplemental forms of welfare. Then take a look at how much more our government is wanting to tax the remaining businesses and individuals that have somehow managed to remain financially solvent in order to support the citizens that our government has helped ruin.

Socialism. It's what Obama, the Democrats and the liberals are about. Remember the Chosen One's famous campaign utterance to Joe the Plumber about "When we spread the wealth around, it's good for everyone."

What a dumbass we have for president.

Mr. President, you may be able manipulate the numbers coming out of your cesspool administration, but you cannot manipulate the facts. The facts are that unemployment claims are not going down--the benefits for unemployment are running out for those who cannot find work.

The facts are that more Americans than ever before in the history of the very nation you despise and continue to destroy are on some sort of welfare assistance. Even your own CBO bears this fact.

Oh, and speaking of your Congressional Budget Office? Here's what they have to say about real unemployment. They're reporting actual unemployment at 15% as of January 2012.

Yet one more example why the mainstream media is no longer relevant, nor trustworthy.

Here's an excerpt from that CBO story:

Worse, the CBO reports that the ravages of the Obama Economy have created an unprecedentedly high rate of long-term unemployment, which the CBO defines as a person who has been seeking work for over 26 months.

Over 40 percent of people who are currently unemployed have been out of work for more than half a year, as compared with about one-quarter during the 1981–1982 recession. The extent of long-term unemployment is much greater than would be expected on the basis of its historical relationship with the overall unemployment rate.

That means that during the 1981-1982 recession President Ronald Reagan led America out of–which was the only other time in the post-World War II era that unemployment rose above 10 percent as it did in October 2009 under Barack Obama–long-term unemployment was 15 percent less than it presently is today under Barack Obama.

The CBO report was issued at the request of Rep. Sander Levin (D-MI).

A Democrat with guts. Of course, Rep Levin resides in one of the states most devastated by the Chosen One's politics. Any port in a storm, I suppose.

How will the clowns inside the Beltway try to manipulate this?

Remember all of this come November and vote against every damned incumbent office-holder in Washington.

Throw the CEO's ass in prison.

I read about JP Morgan getting fined some $200,000,000.00 for some scam or another, so I decided to google them.

Holy cow. Lots of fines.

Lots.

In googling for other companies with big fines levied against them, I found CVS and Walgreens, interestingly enough, being fined for everything from blatant OSHA violations to Medicaid and Medicare overbilling.

My question is this:

Why not throw the CEO's asses in prison along with fining these companies?

Hell, it's not the CEO's money being lost. With companies like JP Morgan, it's the investors' money being used to pay fines. With CVS and Walgreens, it's the shareholders' money, the employees' money and the customers--you and me--being used to pay the fines.

The CEO and senior executives get off scot-free.

I suspect if we started tossing CEO's asses in prison for these blatant schemes and huge fines, a lot of that nonsense would stop.

As in immediately.

Anyone want to bet against me?

God Bless Canada. And Australia. And Great Britain.

(From the e-mail stacks)

This was written by a Canadian woman, but oh how
it also applies to the U.S.A., U.K. and Australia.

THIS ONE PACKS A FIRM PUNCH

Written by a housewife in New Brunswick , to
her local newspaper. This is one ticked off lady...

"Are we fighting a war on terror or aren't we? Was
it or was it not, started by Islamic people who
brought it to our shores on September 11, 2001
and have continually threatened to do so since?

Were people from all over the world, not brutally murdered
that day, in downtown Manhattan , across the Potomac from
the capitol of the USA and in a field in Pennsylvania ?

Did nearly three thousand men, women and children die a horrible, burning or crushing death that day, or didn't they?
Do you think I care about four U. S. Marines urinating on some dead Taliban insurgents?

And I'm supposed to care that a few Taliban were
claiming to be tortured by a justice system of a
nation they are fighting against in a brutal Insurgency.
I'll care about the Koran when the fanatics in the Middle
East, start caring about the Holy Bible, the mere belief
of which, is a crime punishable by beheading in Afghanistan .

I'll care when these thugs tell the world they are
sorry for hacking off Nick Berg's head, while Berg
screamed through his gurgling slashed throat.

I'll care when the cowardly so-called insurgents
in Afghanistan , come out and fight like men,
instead of disrespecting their own religion by
hiding in Mosques and behind women and children.

I'll care when the mindless zealots who blow
themselves up in search of Nirvana, care about the
innocent children within range of their suicide Bombs.

I'll care when the Canadian media stops pretending that
their freedom of Speech on stories, is more important than
the lives of the soldiers on the ground or their families waiting
at home, to hear about them when something happens.

In the meantime, when I hear a story about a
CANADIAN soldier roughing up an Insurgent
terrorist to obtain information, know this:
I don't care.
When I see a wounded terrorist get shot in the
head when he is told not to move because he
might be booby-trapped, you can take it to the bank:

I don't care. Shoot him again.

When I hear that a prisoner, who was issued a Koran and a prayer mat, and fed 'special' food, that is paid for by my tax dollars, is complaining that his holy book is being 'mishandled,' you can absolutely believe, in your heart of hearts:
I don't care.

And oh, by the way, I've noticed that sometimes
it's spelled 'Koran' and other times 'Quran.'
Well, Jimmy Crack Corn you guessed it.

I don't care!!

One last thought:

Only five defining forces have ever offered to die for you:

1. Jesus Christ

2. The British Soldier.

3. The Canadian Soldier.

4. The US Soldier, and

5. The Australian Soldier

One died for your soul,
the other four, for you and your children's Freedom.

Retail whores.

It happened again, this time at a Walgreens.

I'm standing in line to check out and in front of me are a couple of fat, grossly overweight women, one of whom is talking on her new iPhone and bragging about all its new features.

The counter is loaded with ice cream, cokes, chips and enough candy to make the entire dental industry giddy in anticipation of the cavities to come.

Time to pay up, and you guessed it.

Out comes the food stamp card--known as a SNAP card. Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program, the key word here being nutritional.

I'm steaming. I've been trying to get back home while fighting weather and an impending head cold. Detours and delays equal additional income spent on food, lodging and gas while also resulting in lost income by not being able to be back at the home base. Money which I earned and comes out of my pocket--not the government's.

The cashier bags up the first hog's junk and it fills up that little shopping cart. The second hog places a pack of gum on the counter, whips out her EBT card, which stands for Electronic Benefits Transaction, paid for the chewing gum and got $20 bucks cash back. Then she bought two packs of cigarettes.

Then she did ANOTHER transaction for more gum, got ANOTHER $20 bucks back and used that to buy a case of beer!

I blew.

I let both of those fat, arrogant parasitic pieces of human sewage know exactly what I thought of them. A manager was called. He tried explaining to me the store's "policy" on taking food stamps and EBT and cash back for cigarettes and beer. I told him what I thought. He told me he'd call the police. I handed him my phone, made sure he noted it was NOT a brand new high-dollar iPhone like the one used by Hog #1, and told him to call the police because a crime was damned sure being committed--only not by me, but by him and his Hog slopping clientele.

Police show up. I'm still steaming. Hogs have left. Didn't see what kind of "ride" they were in, but you know, it wouldn't have surprised me if they were in a new car than my pickup truck.

Police tell me I was out of line. I tell the police to basically kiss my ass. They explain the concept of "criminal trespass" to me if the store wants to go that route. I explain the concept of how much CASH my wife and I spend at said store on prescriptions and goods (although that came to a screeching halt). Dipshit manager tells me they don't care WHERE the money comes from (government welfare or cash from hard-working honest citizens) that it all spends the same.

I leave.

For good.

Retail whores.

We have a choice where we can spend our hard-earned money. So long as we continue to spend it at the large corporate entities that support Obamacare, welfare for anyone and everyone simply so that they can skim from it, retailers who buy the vast majority of their goods from communist China, who mark their prescriptions up for insurance reimbursement 1000% or more, who cut thousands of jobs while giving their senior executives huge raises and bonuses. . .

So long as we continue to spend our money with brands like that, we, America, as a nation, will continue to go under. So long as we continue to stay silent when we see the abuses go on, we, America, as a nation will continue to go under.

Nobody wants to rock the boat. Nobody wants to take a stand. Nobody wants to dare have to explain themselves to a police officer.

Son of a bitch.

If our forefathers had thought like that, we'd still be having tea at 4:00 every day and bowing to some king or queen.

Just where, in our societal evolutionary process, did we lose our collective ovaries and testicles?

Money runs our government. Trying to get the whores inside of the beltway to listen to us is futile. They listen to the big corporations.

So long as we continue to feed the big corporations, who in turn, screw us, there is no reason for the Beltway whores to pay us any mind whatsoever. Half the nation pays taxes, the other half doesn't. Washington pays more heed to those who pay no taxes because they are the easiest votes to buy.

And those easy votes are being courted by retail whores like Walgreens and CVS.

No thank you. I'm still free to spend my money where I choose, and I choose not to support corporations who promote and pander to those who abuse a system designed to help those temporarily struggling.

Because when you start putting up your "We welcome SNAP" signs over your private brand JUNK FOOD and ICE CREAM and private brand COKES and PASTRIES, you are promoting a gross abuse of the system.

Think about that the next time you find yourself in one of these places.

Then have the guts to take a stand.

Talk about being hard up for sex. . .

OK, so either the women in Iowa are more than a little homely or this one certain individual who is the focus of this story is so ugly that he couldn't get laid in a whorehouse.

I've been to Iowa and they have pretty girls there. Not as many as Texas or Florida or California, but they got 'em.

So that means this masked man who robbed a sex-toys store of a $250 sex doll, known as the "F**k Me Silly Mega Masturbator" model must be more than hard up.

He must be desperate.

Or, perhaps, he's a fan of Bill Clinton's former Surgeon General, Jocelyn "Let's teach the kids how to masturbate" Elders. If we knew this clown's age (the sex doll robber, not the former Surgeon General), it might shed a clue as to whether or not he was influenced by Ms. Elders, who some say was Bill Clinton's right hand on certain matters.

According to the police, the desperate robber walked into the Romantix Pleasure Palace around 3 a.m. on January 12 and, standing erect at the counter, whipped out his. . . knife and wagged it in the clerk's face.

He then took his love doll, described the manufacturer as "the best piece of blank that you'll ever blank in your entire blanking life" and hauled blank out of the Pleasure Palace.

(There are some more colorful, leave-little-to-the-imagination descriptions in the actual story, but I can't type them here without blushing something horrible.)

Police in Iowa City are asking for your help to apprehand, er, sorry, appreHEND this dangerous pervert. The crime fund is even offering a cool thousand bucks for information leading up to the man's arrest.

Now I'm kind of wondering about a few things, such as--

1. Is crime so non-existent in Iowa City that police can utilize their vast resources to have citizens chase down a masturbation-happy petting, er PETTY thief? Are their no drug dealers or robbers or burglars or auto thieves in Iowa City?

Just curious.

2. Judging from the picture, this meat-beater weighs a lot more than the police's estimate of 165 lbs. That might be a good place for the fearless Iowa City pervert patrol to start. This perv has some pretty good pudge going on.

3. I'm assuming prostitution is frowned upon in Iowa City, but what if the Romantix Pleasure Palace were to "rent" these sex dolls and give patrons their own private little room in the back of the sex shop. Would that still be considered prostitution?

4. If/when this guy is finally caught, will he be charged with A) Aggravated Robbery, B) Kidnapping or C) a sex crime?

And if convicted, will he have to register as a sex offender? Inquiring minds want to know.

So far, though, this is about all we know about this story. We'll bring you more as things come up.

No word on whether or not the sex shop wants their kidnapped love doll back.

A favor paid forward, and with gratitude.

Scrolling through my e-mail box and found this:

Lila has left a new comment on your post "The Forgotten Man":

I adore you!! Sooo I gave you a blog award because of it! http://tslbf.blogspot.com/2012/02/we-gots-awarded-lot.html

The url takes you to the home of the Total Survivalist Libertarian Bitch Fest where the blog award is explained in more detail. Part of the tradition is to forward the award to blogs and bloggers you feel are worthy.

According to Lila, in regards to moi, "An Ordinary American - He is one of the most amazingly blunt and honest men. He is sick of the crap and tells it. I adore him!"

I'm flattered and honored, and in looking at her list of other bloggers she is awarding, I'm humbled.

A Texan humbled. Imagine that.

The conditions state:

1. Copy and paste the award on our blog.
2. Link back to the blogger who gave us the award
3. Pick our five favorite blogs with less than 200 followers, and leave a comment on their blog to let them know they have received the award.
4. Hope that the five blogs chosen will keep spreading the love and pass it on to five more blogs.

In no particular order, here are five blogs I feel worthy of everyone's readership and attention:

1. Lagniappe's Lair. What can I say? It's on the "DMR" (Daily Must Read) list, plus I'm a sucker for German Shepherds. He has a way of writing that makes you feel like you're sitting right there in the living room with him and Murphy. And then there's his encyclopedic knowledge and experience with guns. Holy cow.

2. The Life Of An Aggie. Maybe a strange choice for a Texas Tech alumnus, but this young lady is everything I would want in a daughter. She's smart, has a very good moral and ethical compass, is mature beyond her present years, and she's definitely not afraid of guns. She's also one helluva engaging writer. Read her stuff. The only criticism I have is that she doesn't write often enough. But then, I'd probably raise hell with her about her school being neglected.

3. All Nine Yards. Another Texan, albeit one exiled to Florida. A gun owner and ardent supporter. A fellow pilot. A Texan's no BS way of looking at things. What is not to like?

4. Home On The Range. I'm probably awarding her something she's already been awarded upteen-dozen times already, but what the hell. Brigid is nothing short of absolutely awesome. She's also on my DMR list. She's educated. She takes no BS. She refuses to be a victim. She knows more about guns than most anyone I know. She talks a lot about airplanes AND boats. . . and damn if she doesn't post some of the tastiest looking and edible recipes I've ever seen.

5. That Texas Lady. Another Texan from up on the plains, this lady does Lone Star State gun owners proud. She's active in helping teach other women everything from what gun to purchase to which ammo to carry to what kind of holster to carry it in. Women like That Texas Lady walk the walk, and she has a very nice blog to back up that walk. I'm a relative newcomer to her blog, but after scrolling through it, I couldn't get it on my blogroll fast enough.

So there we have it. My five designees, all of whom are deserving of having you check them out. Without a doubt, they are our kind of people (with thanks to A Girl And Her Gun).

So. . . who are you?

I paid zero attention to the Super Bowl this year.

Zero.

When everyone e-mailed me and asked me who I was rooting for, New York or New England, my answer was always the same:

Neither. They're both a couple of Yankee teams and I hope they both lose.

In college bowl games, if I didn't have a dog in the hunt, I would always root for southernmost team. So in this case, New York is further south than Boston, so I guess it's okay that they won.

But I really didn't care and don't care and will never care.

One thing that did strike me, however, was when browsing The Drudge Report, I ran into one of those stories that has a sidebar link that leads you to another sidebar link that leads you to another.

Boring Monday afternoon, so I kept clicking. And I found this, Celebrities spotted at the Super Bowl.

I need to update the Fios in the cave next to the rock I must be living under, because there are sixty-two pictures of celebrities here and I only recognized a few. I didn't recognize any of the (so-called) super-models, and most of the television actors I didn't recognize.

Most of the shows that I watch involve fishing or hunting or shooting or flying, which negates that fat, obnoxious son of a bitch Alex Baldwin, who I did recognize. Hard to miss that slob's ugly visage anywhere.

I recognized Madonna, even though she had her clothes on, and I recognized Stephen Tyler. Maybe a few others, but for all the other (so-called) celebrities, I was left wondering,

Who the hell are you and what makes you a celebrity?

Or more importantly, why should I care?

The Forgotten Man

The Forgotten Man

Steve Jobs is spinning in his urn right about now.

His beloved company, Apple, has just screwed over millions and millions of loyal customers all over the globe.

As geeks will be geeks, geeks love to tinker with computer and technical related things in which there's not a damned thing wrong with them.

Tinker to tinker, just to be geeky.

The latest geekdom fiasco involves not Microsoft (at least directly) and Windows, for once, but the once bullet-proof Apple computers.

A security upgrade was issued, and for Apple owners, the upgrade was marked as "critical" and supposedly had to do with security.

So millions of loyal and trusting Apple users the world over installed the upgrade, and received a poison pill in return.

Millions of Apple computers around the globe are now crippled. Microsoft Office applications are hobbled--you can read, but often can't save, and can't print.

Quicken will not print checks, and QuarkXpress (design/layout application) all but disappears. Friends in the music and film editing business tell me they're dead in the water.

That translates into tens of thousands of dollars they lose each day they can't edit on their Apple computers.

More software is affected than I can list, and on the Apple discussion forum, more bad news pours in as more applications are affected.

Apple has been silent. Not a peep. No release. No news. No admission. No patch. No instructions how to undo their little poison pill.

Not a fucking thing from Apple.

So what do you say, Tim Cook, new CEO of Apple? You have your first crisis with millions of your loyal customers stranded and you and your company say nothing, do nothing.

Jobs would've already been screaming up and down the rows of cubes and workstations demanding to get this thing fixed. No less than a dozen incompetents responsible for allowing such a disastrous "minor update" to leave Apple's mother ship unchecked for the damage it would ultimately cause would have been terminated on the spot.

Maybe Mr. Cook is too busy still counting his $378 million dollar salary for last year?

Meanwhile, Apple users and businesses are busy trying to count how much money they're losing while Apple counts theirs.

Jobs has to be spinning in his urn.

Generation Y

People born before 1946 were called The Silent Generation.

People born between 1946 and 1964 are called The Baby Boomers.

People born between 1965 and 1979 are called Generation X.

People born between 1980 and 2010 are called Generation Y.

Why do we call the last group Generation Y?

Y should I get a job?

Y should I leave home and find my own place?

Y should I get a car when I can borrow yours?

Y should I clean my room?

Y should I wash and iron my own clothes?

Y should I buy any food?

Or maybe even, Y should I pull up my pants?

I miss Iraq. I miss my gun. I miss my war.

Yesterday, I talked about my home on the internet, Cast Boolits. I mentioned we have a lot of vets there, from wars ranging back to Korea to the present wars in Iraq and Afghanistan and elsewhere.

One of our members had this piece e-mailed to him.

If you're a vet and reading this, be prepared. It's haunting and it will take you back to your days of innocence that we still futilely search for on occasion.

If you're not a vet, please understand the men and women coming home from Sandland. They've been through a lot. A helluva lot.

Do not categorize them just because some ate sand, were sniped at and saw friends disintegrated by IEDs, and others worked in semi-air-conditioned tents making sure necessary supplies and support got where it was going.

When the shit hits the fan, which is what combat is, there IS only one team--and if the linemen don't block the other guys, then the quarterback and running backs get knocked on their asses.

In combat, that translates into dead. No instant replays. No challenges.

Just dead.

These are the words and thoughts of one such young man. Never have I ever read such a succinct description and soulful pouring of a tortured heart as to what happens to a person.

I Miss Iraq. I Miss My Gun. I Miss My War.

A year after coming home from a tour in Iraq, a soldier returns home to find out he left something behind.

By Brian Mockenhaupt

A few months ago, I found a Web site loaded with pictures and videos from Iraq, the sort that usually aren't seen on the news.

I watched insurgent snipers shoot American soldiers and car bombs disintegrate markets, accompanied by tinny music and loud, rhythmic chanting, the soundtrack of the propaganda campaigns. Video cameras focused on empty stretches of road, building anticipation. Humvees rolled into view and the explosions brought mushroom clouds of dirt and smoke and chunks of metal spinning through the air. Other videos and pictures showed insurgents shot dead while planting roadside bombs or killed in firefights and the remains of suicide bombers, people how they're not meant to be seen, no longer whole.

The images sickened me, but their familiarity pulled me in, giving comfort, and I couldn't stop. I clicked through more frames, hungry for it. This must be what a shot of dope feels like after a long stretch of sobriety. Soothing and nauseating and colored by everything that has come before. My body tingled and my stomach ached, hollow.

I stood on weak legs and walked into the kitchen to make dinner. I sliced half an onion before putting the knife down and watching slight tremors run through my hand. The shakiness lingered. I drank a beer. And as I leaned against this kitchen counter, in this house, in America, my life felt very foreign.

I've been home from Iraq for more than a year, long enough for my time there to become a memory best forgotten for those who worried every day that I was gone. I could see their relief when I returned. Life could continue, with futures not so uncertain.

But in quiet moments, their relief brought me guilt. Maybe they assume I was as overjoyed to be home as they were to have me home. Maybe they assume if I could do it over, I never would have gone. And maybe I wouldn't have. But I miss Iraq. I miss the war. I miss war. And I have a very hard time understanding why.

I'm glad to be home, to have put away my uniforms, to wake up next to my wife each morning. I worry about my friends who are in Iraq now, and I wish they weren't.

Often I hated being there, when the frustrations and lack of control over my life were complete and mind-bending. I questioned my role in the occupation and whether good could come of it. I wondered if it was worth dying or killing for. The suffering and ugliness I saw disgusted me. But war twists and shifts the landmarks by which we navigate our lives, casting light on darkened areas that for many people remain forever unexplored. And once those darkened spaces are lit, they become part of us.

At a party several years ago, long before the Army, I listened to a friend who had served several years in the Marines tell a woman that if she carried a pistol for a day, just tucked in her waistband and out of sight, she would feel different. She would see the world differently, for better or worse. Guns empower. She disagreed and he shrugged. No use arguing the point; he was just offering a little piece of truth. He was right, of course. And that's just the beginning.

I've spent hours taking in the world through a rifle scope, watching life unfold. Women hanging laundry on a rooftop. Men haggling over a hindquarter of lamb in the market. Children walking to school. I've watched this and hoped that someday I would see that my presence had made their lives better, a redemption of sorts.

But I also peered through the scope waiting for someone to do something wrong, so I could shoot him. When you pick up a weapon with the intent of killing, you step onto a very strange and serious playing field. Every morning someone wakes wanting to kill you. When you walk down the street, they are waiting, and you want to kill them, too. That's not bloodthirsty; that's just the trade you've learned.

As an American soldier, you have a very impressive toolbox. You can fire your rifle or lob a grenade, and if that's not enough, call in the tanks, or helicopters, or jets. The insurgents have their skill sets, too, turning mornings at the market into chaos, crowds into scattered flesh, Humvees into charred scrap. You're all part of the terrible magic show, both powerful and helpless.

That men are drawn to war is no surprise. How old are boys before they turn a finger and thumb into a pistol? Long before they love girls, they love war, at least everything they imagine war to be: guns and explosions and manliness and courage.

When my neighbors and I played war as kids, there was no fear or sorrow or cowardice. Death was temporary, usually as fast as you could count to sixty and jump back into the game. We didn't know yet about the darkness. And young men are just slightly older versions of those boys, still loving the unknown, perhaps pumped up on dreams of duty and heroism and the intoxicating power of weapons. In time, war dispels many such notions, and more than a few men find that being freed from society's professed revulsion to killing is really no freedom at all, but a lonely burden.

Yet even at its lowest points, war is like nothing else. Our culture craves experience, and that is war's strong suit. War peels back the skin, and you live with a layer of nerves exposed, overdosing on your surroundings, when everything seems all wrong and just right, in a way that makes perfect sense. And then you almost die but don't, and are born again, stoned on life and mocking death. The explosions and gunfire fry your nerves, but you want to hear them all the same. Something's going down.

For those who know, this is the open secret: War is exciting.

Sometimes I was in awe of this, and sometimes I felt low and mean for loving it, but I loved it still. Even in its quiet moments, war is brighter, louder, brasher, more fun, more tragic, more wasteful. More. More of everything. And even then I knew I would someday miss it, this life so strange.

Today the war has distilled to moments and feelings, and somewhere in these memories is the reason for the wistfulness.

On one mission we slip away from our trucks and into the night. I lead the patrol through the darkness, along canals and fields and into the town, down narrow, hard-packed dirt streets. Everyone has gone to bed, or is at least inside. We peer through gates and over walls into courtyards and into homes. In a few rooms TVs flicker. A woman washes dishes in a tub. Dogs bark several streets away. No one knows we are in the street, creeping.

We stop at intersections, peek around corners, training guns on parked cars, balconies, and storefronts. All empty. We move on. From a small shop up ahead, we hear men's voices and laughter. Maybe they used to sit outside at night, but now they are indoors, where it's safe. Safer.

The sheet-metal door opens and a man steps out, cigarette and lighter in hand. He still wears a smile, takes in the cool night air, and then nearly falls backward through the doorway in a panic. I'm a few feet from him now and his eyes are wide. I mutter a greeting and we walk on, back into the darkness.

I salute you, Brian, with every ounce of respect I can muster. Your generation of veterans makes my generation proud, just as we strived to make the generation that trained, nurtured and fought side by side with us proud.

God Bless you, Brian, your comrades and God Bless every single man and woman who stand at the ready to defend us from evil.

Wounded Warrior Project. Guitars For Vets. Lots of groups out there helping veterans like Brian come back to what our generation called "the world."

Like the vets, these organizations don't ask for much, but they give a lot.

Help them out.

We owe our veterans.

Internet gun commandos. *Sigh*

With a nod to Old NFO, I start this post with a deep, resigned sigh.

Internet gun commandos. Entertaining or irritating?

For the record, I call one and only one internet "discussion forum" home, and that would be Cast Boolits. There, I actually post and contribute, trade PMs (private messages), buy stuff, contribute financially to the forum's well-being, and have actually met some of the members and had lunch/dinner with them, etc. I'm a member of a boating forum BoaterEd, but read only and haven't posted in several years. Also a member of an aviation forum, but have never posted--read only. Anything I want to know, the "search" function is my friend. There are a few gun forums I'll stumble upon courtesy of a google search, but I've only joined one which was the Pennsylvania gun folks place, and I've made a few remarks there but not lately.

Cast Boolits is my home.

I'm a gun guy. A one hundred percent Texas pro-Second Amendment "get out of my damned face with your commie stinking gun-control bullshit" bonafide gun guy.

I wear the Gun Blog Black List badge with honor and with pride.

Some folks used to be fond of saying, "If you don't like Hank Williams, you can kiss my ass." I'm fond of saying, "If you don't like me having guns, you can kiss my ass."

I've carried a gun in defense of my country and fired it. I've carried a gun in defense of my fellow man by way of law enforcement and fired it. I've carried a gun in defense of myself and family by way of a concealed handgun license and have fired it. I believe in defense of country, defense of fellow citizen, and defense of self and family.

If this bothers anyone, I refer you back to the Hank Williams line.

I also reload my own ammo, which I refer to as handloading when it comes to my match-grade ammo. And I also cast my own boolits--known as bullets to the unwashed among us.

So Cast Boolits is a great place for bonafide gun guys like me.

Our crowd, I've been told, can be kind of intimidating to new or younger shooters. I once read a quote about us on another well-respected gun forum with a membership that numbers well over one-hundred thousand in which one of the original members and a moderator said, "Those old farts at Cast Boolits have forgotten more about reloading and casting and shooting than ninety-nine percent of us will ever know."

Some of us kind of resented being thought of as "old farts," so we did a poll and found out, damnit, that most of us ARE old farts.

So, when some youngster with self-inflicted delusions of grandeur when it comes to his "shooting abilities" shows up out of the blue, ostensibly to impress us with his knowledge, skill and experience, we can be kind of a tough crowd to impress.

Someone once called them "mall ninjas" in honor of some comic book character who went by the name of "Gecko45." I thought it was all a joke until someone e-mailed me the link to the legend that is now Gecko45.

Holy mother of mariachi midgets. That was the funniest stuff I have ever read in my life!

I'm thinking that this Gecko fella is over the top on purpose. . . kind of a satirical toss at some of the internet gun commandos who aren't quite as over the top, but instead are far worse because of something else:

They believe what they write about themselves.

I remember one rainy day a few weeks ago. . . I'm at home, watching it rain and eating a bowl of my homemade chili and surfing the net. One link leads to another which leads to another. I call it the "Lost In You Tube" syndrome. Anyhow, I end up on some obscure gun forum about modified "tactical shotguns and cloned H&Ks."

You can find anything on the internet.

Some guy named "Frog" was one of the room monitors and he was scolding some new member for making fun of a guy who had dressed up in his airsoft combat costume, but was holding his actual pimped out shotgun in one picture, and his pimped out something gun in another picture.

Oh. My. God.

It was then that I finally understood the term "internet commando" and "mall ninja."

I read the discussion, did a little digging (it was still raining outside, after all, and I had plenty of chili left) and found out this clown referred to himself as an "educational tactical security specialist."

WTF?

Further digging revealed he was an unarmed school security employee in Houston, Texas. In fairness, he WAS hoping to move up in the security company and be transferred to one of the shopping malls they had under contract.

Oh. My. God.

One of the people in the discussion with this mister Frog fella actually asked the Houston school-crossing (unarmed) guard if he was, or was related to, the legendary Gecko45. No, the fellow replied, but he admitted to having a "great deal of respect" for Gecko45.

Even more frightening was the legions of DEFENDERS this clown had defending the two or three guys deriding him for looking like a cross between Idi Amin, Colonel Khadaffi and Rambo all dressed in SEAL Delta Force nomex basic black.

Read that again: Other guys were defending him for his delusions!

Oh. My. God.

So all of this comes crashing back to me when I stumbled across another post by some kid from somewhere in the lower South bragging about how "all his friends are impressed with how great he shoots" and how he "shoots his initials in the target" and that they all call him "Sniper, because he's that good."

He argues a bit with a few folks, then goes on to state that "nobody wants him shooting at them" because he's that good.

What a warrior, eh?

I was in the Air Force many years ago. We delivered Death and Bad Things to people and places we didn't like very much. The Death and Bad Things often went by the name of U.S. Navy SEALs and Green Berets and U.S. Army Rangers and Recon Marines. Pretty nice guys as long as you saluted the same flag. Stone cold professionals. And if they happened to have a difficulty or two in getting away from whatever appointment we dropped them off at, we had these fellas called Pararescuemen, or PJs, that made Superman, Bruce Lee and John Wayne all take two respectful steps back. The PJs didn't give two shits in Cheyenne where you were at or how many people were around that didn't like you--if you needed getting out, they got you out.

Now those are warriors. Real warriors. Hell, I salute ANYONE who gut-checked it up, left home and strapped on a pair of combat boots. Hey, you sacrificed. You served. You did your part.

Thank you.

But these internet warriors. . .

When I read about these guys on the internet shooting their initials in a target or being called "sniper" by their friends or telling us about how many "$100 bills" they've won on shooting bets, I smile.

Then I go re-read the Legend of Gecko45 and figure somewhere, this guy must've been the world's greatest sexual performer because he certainly spawned a helluva lot of offspring.

Let's shoot some prairie dogs.

A friend of mine from CCI Ammunition sent me this.

Be forewarned: It's a little addicting.

Let's shoot some prairie dogs!

Enjoy.

Meet Chump of the Decade, Terrell Owens.

Why did the headline not surprise me?

Terrell Owens says he's broke, "in hell."

According to the story in Yahoo, and with excerpts taken from an interview with GQ, Owens made somewhere in the neighborhood of $80 million during his tumultuous, controversy-filled career.

For those of us that will never see eighty-million dollars, the figure looks like this:

$80,000,000.00

Lot of zeros in that figure, but the biggest zero is Owens himself.

For the record, I thought TO sucked. As an athlete and especially as a human being. I had a minor business dealing with him some ten years ago, a very minor business dealing and he was a complete ass. One of our clients thought they might consider an endorsement from this overhyped nimrod. It took us less than ten minutes to realize the monumental mistake and walk out of the meeting.

To listen to him that day, you would've thought he had a friggin business PhD from MIT. He has a PhD all right, it's a Piled Higher and Deeper degree, and it's from BSU--Bull Shit University.

To listen to TO talk about his athleticism, you would've thought the Heisman was going to be re-named the Oweisman. I--and legions of others--know better. I saw him drop passes in Dallas that should've been caught. For the money the Cowboys' idiot owner wasted on TO, those passes should've been caught, branded, BBQ'd and personally stagecoached into the endzone by TO.

I always thought TO should've tried catching passes with his mouth. Big target and always open.

And now the idiot's broke, and as usual. . . blaming everyone but himself for his problems.

Funny thing is, who can he blame for the four kids he sired by four different women that he admits never having really dated? He refers to three of them as "repeat offenders."

All four are suing him because he has no job, no money and can't pay the combined $44K the courts ordered him to pay. (On a side note, any woman who claims to need $10,000 a month in child support is every bit as full of crap as the idiot who impregnated her. I have no sympathy for these women and consider them little more than prostitutes who are suing for breach of contract.)

No NFL teams will even talk to him, and TO claims it's the media's fault.

Maybe he wants to look at the calendar? The stupid arrogant SOB is 38-years-old, which is ancient in the NFL, save for Brett Favre. What idiotic owner (shhhh, Jerry Jones might be reading this today) would pay an over-the-hill, loudmouthed, locker-room wrecking has-been with concrete hands any sort of money at all to come join his team?

But Terrell says it's everyone else's fault. He even goes so far to say that even knowing all the mistakes he made, he wouldn't change a damned thing because it would "disrespect his grandmother, who raised him."

He blew $80,000,000.00 dollars and has stooped to blaming his grandmother.

What a chump.

Unfortunately, in the NFL and professional sports, Terrell Owens isn't alone. But at least for once, he stands at the top of something.

Stupidity.

Southern pride and mainstream BS.

The media learned a valuable lesson in 2008.

Pick the Republican candidate and they're guaranteed to get the Democrat elected.

Up to this point, the mainstream has been cramming Mitt Romney down our throats and up our collective butts.

In Iowa and New Hampshire, the media pushed Romney on us. Except in Iowa, Santorum pulled a rabbit out of his hat.

The result?

The media is all but ignoring Santorum. No headlines, no substantive interviews, no coverage. Instead, they continue to create a bigger controversy between the establishment candidates Newt and Mitt.

Kinda like they did with Rick Perry, Herman Cain and Michelle Bachmann when each of them pulled out their own rabbits and began soaring in the polls.

Ignore them, concentrate on who THEY want and trust the average American to be stupid enough to blindly follow.

Seems that didn't work in Dixie. In South Carolina, Mitt got his yankee ass kicked--both in the debates and at the polls. He ain't looking so hot in Florida, either.

The media's solution? Shut the American public's response and feedback down. No more cheering or applause at the debates.

Bullshit.

The irony is delicious. The great stalwart of "freedom of speech" and "freedom of expression" is the first to shut down anyone with whom they disagree with. You see in "letters to the editor" sections of newspapers everywhere--perhaps giving us another reason why most newspapers are in serious financial trouble.

The big problem for the media is that the primary debates and cauci are moving into the South, and us Southerners don't cotton to big-city yankees. South Carolina proved that. I suspect Florida will, too, although I only consider the northern half of Florida to be part of the United States. The southern half is more akin to a third world country, thanks to the northeastern liberals who've retired and moved there and now are trying to insist on making Fort Myers exactly like Trenton, New Jersey.

So now the secret is out. The media doesn't want your feedback during the debates. Newt says BS to that and threatens to boycott the debates if the audience can't clap or cheer.

Good for Newt.

There is a reason more and more Americans get their news from the internet and alternative/new media. Crap like what's being pulled at NBC, the New York Times, et al, is why.

Why AARP can kiss my ass.

From the e-mail stacks. . .

Dear Mr. Rand,

Recently you sent us a letter encouraging us to renew our lapsed membership in AARP by the requested date. I know it is not what you were looking for, but this is the most honest response I can give you. Our gap in coverage is merely a microscopic symptom of the real problem, a deepening lack of faith.

While we have proudly maintained our membership for several years and have long admired the AARP goals and principles, regrettably, we can no longer endorse its abdication of our values. Your letter specifically stated that we can count on AARP to speak up for our rights, yet the voice we hear is not ours. Your offer of being kept up to date on important issues through DIVIDED WE FAIL presents neither an impartial view nor the one we have come to embrace. We do believe that when two parties agree all the time on everything presented to them, one is probably not necessary. But, when the opinions and long term goals are diametrically opposed, the divorce is imminent. This is the philosophy which spawned our 200 years of government.

Once upon a time, we looked forward to being part of the senior demographic. We also looked to AARP to provide certain benefits and give our voice a power we could not possibly hope to achieve on our own. AARP gave us a sense of belonging which we no longer enjoy. The Socialist politics practiced by the Obama Regime and empowered by AARP serves only to raise the blood pressure my medical insurance strives to contain. Clearly a conflict of interest there!

We do not understand the AARP posture, feel greatly betrayed by the guiding forces that we expected to map out our senior years and leave your ranks with a great sense of regret. We mitigate that disappointment with the relief of knowing that we are not contributing to the problem anymore by renewing our membership. There are numerous other organizations which offer discounts without threatening our way of life or offending our sensibilities.

This Obama Regime scares the living daylights out of us. Not just for ourselves, but for our proud and bloodstained heritage. But even more importantly for our children and grandchildren. Washington has rendered Soylent Green a prophetic cautionary tale rather than a nonfiction scare tactic. I have never in my life endorsed any militant or radical groups, yet now I find myself listening to them. I don't have to agree with them to appreciate the fear which birthed their existence. Their borderline insanity presents little more than a balance to the voice of the Socialist mindset in power. Perhaps I became American by a great stroke of luck in some cosmic uterine lottery, but in my adulthood I CHOOSE to embrace it and nurture the freedoms it represents as well as the responsibilities it requires.

Your website generously offers us the opportunity to receive all communication in Spanish. ARE YOU KIDDING? The illegal perpetrators have broken into our 'house', invaded our home without our invitation or consent. The President has insisted we keep these illegal perpetrators in comfort and learn the perpetrator's language so we can communicate our reluctant welcome to them.

I DON'T choose to welcome them.

I DON'T choose to support them.

I DON'T choose to educate them.

I DON'T choose to medicate them, pay for their food or clothing.

American home invaders get arrested.
Please explain to me why foreign lawbreakers can enjoy privileges on American soil that Americans do not get?

Why do some immigrants have to play the game to be welcomed and others only have to break & enter to be welcomed?

We travel for a living. Walt hauls horses all over this great country, averaging over 10,000 miles a month when he is out there. He meets more people than a politician on caffeine overdose. Of all the many good folks he enjoyed on this last 10,000 miles, this trip yielded only ONE supporter of the current Regime. One of us is out of touch with mainstream America . Since our poll is conducted without funding, I have more faith in it than ones that are driven by a need to yield AMNESTY. (aka - make voters out of the foreign lawbreakers so they can vote to continue the government's free handouts). This addition of 10 to 20 Million voters who then will vote to continue Socialism will OVERWHELM our votes to control the government's free handouts. It is a "slippery slope" we must not embark on!

As Margret Thatcher (former Prime Minister of Great Britain) once said "Socialism is GREAT - UNTIL you run out of other people's money".

We have decided to forward this to everyone on our mailing list, and will encourage them to do the same... With several hundred in my address book, I have every faith that the eventual exponential factor will make a credible statement to you.

I am disappointed as all get out !!!!

I am more scared than I have ever been in my entire life !!!

I am ANGRY !!!

I am MAD as hell, and I'm NOT gonna take it anymore!


Walt & Cyndy
Miller Farms Equine Transport

Something California excels at.

"Frankly, I don't know what it is about California , but we seem to have a strange urge to elect really obnoxious women to high office. I'm not bragging, you understand, but no other state, including Maine , even comes close. When it comes to sending left-wing dingbats to Washington , we're number one. There's no getting around the fact that the last time anyone saw the likes of Barbara Boxer, Dianne Feinstein, Maxine Waters, and Nancy Pelosi, they were stirring a cauldron when the curtain went up on 'Macbeth'. The four of them are like jackasses who happen to possess the gift of blab. You don't know if you should condemn them for their stupidity or simply marvel at their ability to form words."


-- columnist Burt Prelutsky, Los Angeles Times

Congress, Wall Street, listen up and listen good.

I'm fed up.

You and your SOPA crap have touched something off in me.

So be advised this:

I'm an American citizen.

I'm armed.

I'm trained.

I'm experienced.

I'm pissed off.

I'm not alone.

Better pay attention.

My days of being a conservative may soon be coming to an end.

I just received one of those "Oh my God!" e-mails. You know, the kind that forewarn you of the world coming to a catastrophic end unless you call your Congressman's office and raise hell about stopping the passage of some nebulous bill or the other.

This one had me scratching my head, then navigating towards the Google and Bing buttons to do a little searching on my own.

Then I called my elected officials' offices and raised pure bloody hell. Screamed at them, I did. Loudly and profanely.

Told them my days of being a campaign-supporting conservative were quickly coming to an end.

The SOPA (Stop Online Piracy Act) is to the internet what Obamacare is to medicine.

A death sentence.

SOPA (HB 3261) effectively gives unbridled power to the Attorney General, the same one, mind you responsible for the murder of a federal agent ala Fast and Furious, to regulate the internet and not just "including" businesses, but especially businesses.

Right up to and especially including blogs like this one and online classified ads sites like craigslist.

The supporting corporate sponsorship of this draconian bill include some of the richest corporations, and their fat-assed CEOs, in all of America, such as:

RIAA, MPAA, News Corp, TimeWarner, Walmart, Nike, Tiffany, Chanel, Rolex, Sony, Juicy Couture, Ralph Lauren, VISA, Mastercard, Comcast, ABC, Dow Chemical, Monster Cable, Teamsters, Rupert Murdoch, Lamar Smith (R-TX), John Conyers (D-MI)

Now I'm a capitalist at heart, and have been since I mowed my first lawn for a dollar, and then went on to get my first paper route. I retired from the advertising and marketing industry, which is about as capitalist as it gets.

But there is no way in hell you can--or will--ever convince me that any CEO is worth $50 million dollars a year, plus stock and bonus options. For the record, you'll never convince me that any professional athlete is worth that, either. I've negotiated enough endorsement contracts with professional athletes to pitch clients such in the categories of sports drinks, soft drinks, fast food, etc., to know I have a leg to stand on here.

But there is a difference between a $10MM/year CEO and a $10MM/year professional athlete.

The athlete actually has to perform, has to have the ability, and fans pay money--by choice--to see or watch the athlete and his team perform.

Not always so with CEOs.

When is the last time the CEO of, let's say Walgreens or CVS or Walmart or Sears or Target spent a week working the cash registers--the source of all income for their companies? Or when is the last time these same CEOs had to unload the huge trucks that roll in all hours of the day--the source of goods for which the cashiers ring up the sales, and for which deposits pay the companies' expenses starting with the million dollar salaries?

And when CEOs perform badly, as most of them inevitably end up doing, and get fired, as most inevitably end up doing, why do they almost always get seven and eight-figure golden parachute bonuses to soften their fall?

I've been fired from a job exactly one time, and all I got was a severance check and shown the door (I was in college working part time for one of the above mentioned retail companies).

I saw a store manager get fired and all he got was his vacation he had "banked" and a one-month severance check. The man had over thirty years with the company and was fired basically to make room for the younger, greedier Number Two man to move up.

Two years later, the CEO of this company was fired when the company was underperforming horribly AND was sued by the U.S. Department of Justice for age-discrimination. The CEO walked away with over $15 million in cash payouts, plus the remaining fourteen months on his contract, plus health benefits, plus his life insurance policy was paid off.

Translation: The CEO fucked over the company and employees and shareholders and walked away with over $20 million dollars.

CEOs have only gotten worse, and now they are threatened by little people like you and me who may like to shop for stuff on craigslist. They claim we're "stealing" business from them--"them" being Walmart, Target, Walgreens, et al. The elected asshats claim we're "dodging taxes" by buying directly from our neighbors.

What a bunch of crap.

This nation was founded upon individual relationships of our own deciding. The business I retired from was based upon "build a better mousetrap and the world will beat a path to your doorstep." Small business is THE engine that drives our economy--not the Wall Street conglomerates.

I have nothing against the acquisition of wealth so long as it's done honestly and ethically. But when our top business people have done nothing more than politic their way to the top, then appointed board members who continue to inflate each others' salaries and benefits and all at the expense of the very people making thos companies work who live in fear every single day as to how much longer they'll be employed, then we have a problem.

Likewise, when these crooked, greedy sons of bitches are threatened by individuals in Fish Bite Falls, USA who are selling their handmade quilts on craigslist, then we an even bigger problem.

Government and more regulations are not the answer.

More support of the "little guy" business is the answer.

I try to avoid publicly-owned businesses whenever I can. It gets harder at times, and even when I shop at my neighborhood hardware store, I realize that many of the products I buy end up supporting one of the CEOs whose ass I'd really like to kick.

And while that can't be helped, the initial purchase of my goods goes towards my community neighbor who opens his hardware store up each morning and who has put two sons and one daughter through college by way of his hardware store.

Likewise, I all but boycott corporate-owned restaurants. Their food sucks anyhow, compared to mom & pop restaurants.

There are exceptions to my shopping with Cabela's and Bass Pro Shops being notable exceptions. For a long time, I supported Sears because of how they correctly handled and treated their veterans who were sent off to war. There are some responsible large corporations out there and I will continue to support them.

But for those who want to support bills that will shut down mom & pop internet businesses?

Kiss my non-corporate ass.

Gunsamerica.com & Paul Helinski. Where ignorance meets arrogance.

First off, be advised that if you're reading this, you're basically an idiot according to Paul Helinski, CEO of something or someplace called "Gunsmaerica.com"

I went to check it out and it just looks like a big electronic bidding house or auction place for guns, and it's on the internet.

The same internet Helinski seems to think he should own when it comes to guns and serious gun talk.

There are some serious ironies going on here, but first--as journalists would say--a little background. In fact, I'm going to do the background as a direct quote from Mr. Helinski regarding his view of blogs, those who read blogs, those who sponsor blogs, those idiotic gun manufacturers, dealers, suppliers who like or advertise on blogs, etc.

Ready?

"Now the question is when you are going to start qualifying internet media? We have to crawl over nobodies who can install wordpress and have nobody reading anything they write, It isn't so hard to qualify internet media using Alexa.com and Compete.com. Why do you waste the manufacturers' time and make the real internet media have to deal with wish I were internet journalists who are just using your stamp of approve to solicit review guns and accessories? You've created this giant gorilla in the room and we all have to deal with it, and you may think the industry takes your numbers seriously, but everyone sees things for what they are. If you are serious about bringing value to your exhibitors, you need to vet the press list."

"There is nothing like killing yourself for ten or fifteen years to have to wait for a guy to shoot his video for Colt on his cellphone at media day."

"You are a wanna be internet media professional. Why don't you go into Compete.com and compare gunsamerica.com to any other gun website, not just blogs. You've never heard of us, and we are the industry leader in internet readership, after 15 years of hard work and dedication. Why should I have to wait for you to finish taking a video with your phone at range day?"

Why isn't that sweet?

I liked the "wannabe" as it kinda reminds me of when Helinski was trying to get in the gun business. He used to be an IT guy. Translation: computer nerd. While I have no way of knowing it to be a fact, I would presume due to Mr. Helinski's elitist attitude that he was probably one of the top nerds at Apple or Microsoft, literally hovering just underneath the shadows of Steve Jobs or Bill Gates.

After all, he seems to have so much contempt for "wannabes" that there is simply no way he himself could've ever started something outside the IT (computer nerd) world unless he was the bona fide real deal. Right?

Secondly, I find it ironic as hell that in the early days of his Gunsamerica.com thing, Mr. Helinski lowered himself to the depths of "wannabes" in the form of gunnuts.com, a blog and podcaster, and actually gave a podcast talk in which he kind of rebuked folks who ordered or bought direct--bypassing the "stocking" dealers as he referred to them.

But Gunsamerica.com is kind of a bypass of "stocking" dealers, isn't it?

I guess once you sail past "wannabe" status and into "CEO" status, the criteria by which you judge yourself changes.

Didn't we see that with a less-than-reputable self-pronounced CEO of some scam called "Gunpal" that later morphed (and crashed) as "Gpal?"

So Mr. Helinski falls into the same trap he bitches at others for--becoming an electronic CEO.

Oh, but he's legitimate because he says he is. The rest of us aren't, because he says we aren't.

Seems he isn't making too many friends in the gun industry now that he's come out of the "anti-everyone-but-himself-as-a-serious-blogger" closet.

Here's a big clue for you, Mr. Helinski: You don't own the SHOT Show. The vast majority of manufacturers would much rather have 450 electronic journalists/bloggers pitching their goods honestly and unbeholden to paying advertisers rather than less than a dozen dying paper & ink rags.

Oh, and there have been a few other intellectually-challenged folks like you in the gun world make disparaging remarks, and their booths at SHOT Shows and NRA annual meetings stayed pretty danged empty.

Conclusion? Dumb move, dumb statements and dumb attitude for Mr. Helinski to have.

Only thing he could do dumber would be to sign up Gpal as a payment service.

And it wouldn't surprise me if he tries.