Matt Furey

Matt Furey in Hospital:

You all probably have seen Matt Furey's ads. He sells a product called "Combat Conditioning," along with another product called "Combat Abs," and several similar things. He advertises on a number of blogs -- I know I've seen his ads on BlackFive, for example.

I have a message today that says he's in a Chinese hospital -- which is a better option on average than an African hospital, but not by much. I wouldn't check myself into one unless I was sure I was going to die otherwise, and had nothing to lose, but here we are:

Although I'm known throughout the world for being strong, right now I feelincredibly weak. The strongest body can be brought down quickly with a morsel of bad food. Right now I'm in the hospital in Xiang getting an I.V. and hope to regain my strength and health very soon.

Regardless of your religious or spiritual beliefs if you can take a moment tooffer a prayer on my behalf I would be most thankful. I sure need it right now.

Hope to back with you very soon.

I'm on the fellow's list because I own several of his products. The Matt Furey program for getting fit and maintaining strength is the best one I've ever encountered. It compares very favorably to the USMC "Daily 16", for example. Many of the insights are the same, but the Furey program incorporates the yoga exercises taught to traditional Indian wrestlers (although, so far, I've never seen the word "yoga" anywhere in any of Matt's stuff -- I'm sure he'd prefer not to have it associated with his products because of its granola connotations). Some of these (particularly the back or "wrestler's" bridge, the gymnastic bridge, and the handstands) are tremendously powerful ways to improve your strength -- and they nicely complement the calesthenics of his program by providing isometric exercise as well. Programs like the Daily 16, which also focus on calesthenics but lack the yoga, don't work as well in my experience.

I mention all this because his advertising gives the calculated impression that he's an arrogant jerk. It's a marketing device to get attention for his product, but I suspect it will cause a number of people to sneer or laugh when they hear of his misfortune. That is not proper -- he really is teaching the truth, and I have myself recommended the program to several people, especially military men who need to develop functional muscle but can't afford the bulk associated with freeweight training due to the military's (and particularly the Marines') absurd height/weight calculations. These are always based on the BMI ("Body Mass Index"), which is intended for small to medium framed people who aren't especially athletic. Big, strong men who work out will always be right at the top of the weight, if they can make weight at all. The Furey program, because it produces functional but not bulky muscle, can be a partial fix for Marines and soldiers trying to work around that.

Anyway, here's to Matt. I hope he gets well soon, the poor SOB. Bad Chinese food, and even the best Chinese hospital, isn't a fate I'd wish on anyone.

Grim's Hall

A Little Mountain Feud:

It seems I may owe something by way of apology to those city neighbors I mentioned in a recent post. I take it back: from now on, I only want bears for neighbors at all. No people, city or country, thanks aye.

The other night I was laying in bed, when off to the southwest I heard the report of a pistol. It sounded like a mid-range caliber, something in the weight of a 9mm or .40 Short & Weak. After a few seconds, there was a second shot, and then a third following two seconds after the second. Then, there were three shots in rapid succession; a pause, and then seven shots more, also rapid-fire.

There was quiet for a bit, and then two more shots.

"Fifteen," I murmured to my wife before rolling over and going back to sleep. "Try to remember, in case anyone asks."

Well, I didn't think too much about it, because as a kid I often heard guys out target-shooting, even at night, down in the Georgia woods. If you work all day, when else are you going to go shoot? And if it's on your property, and you take the right kind of safety precautions, it's legal and fine.

Things are a little different in Virginia. My wife was off visiting the neighbors today -- a chili dog luncheon, some of the local mothers got up for the kids who live around here. She came back with quite a few good stories to tell.

JHD will appreciate this.

Apparently it all started a few weeks ago when one of the boys up the valley started letting his pitbull out to wander. The thing was not all that nice, and it set after the neighbors' cats. Now, most of the houses around here are not within sight of each other, but these two happen to be. So they're "close" neighbors.

Well, the dog ate the cat, and the man was absolutely outraged to find his feline half-devoured the next day. So he told his neighbor that he'd best get that dog tied up, or else. Needless to say, the neighbor did no such thing.

So, the guy shot the dog. It had eaten his cat, after all, and his neighbor refused to restrain it. If it was dangerous to more than just cats, that was probably justified -- although it wouldn't have been a bad idea to call animal control instead. That was in the afternoon.

The story gets a little fuzzy on the details at this point, but by midnight or so, the two neighbors were both, independently, roaring drunk. The fellow with the cat was drunk on liquor, but the fellow with the dog was drunk on real old fashioned moonshine. Turns out there's supposed to be a still around here somewhere.

I gather but am not certain that Captain Moonshine is the one who decided to take a shot at his neighbor. They had been yelling at each other -- the poor wife of the cat-lover reports that her husband was "frothing at the mouth, he was so drunk" -- and then there was the first shot. Our cat lover went for his gun, which he had close to hand as he'd been expecting his neighbor to take exception on behalf of his dog, and shot back. There was one more careful shot, and then they opened up. The poor wife, trying to restrain her husband, was now squashed between the door and the wall as the brutal but cat-loving man attempted to keep her out of his way, while still returning the fire.

They shot until they ran flat out of ammo, and the only casualty was the fish tank in one of the houses -- both of them were so drunk that they couldn't hit each other, or anything near to each other. When they ran out of bullets the real fight began: they cast down their guns and went at it hand to hand, beating each other until the deputies arrived.

It would have been a kindness, all things considered, if they'd just started with that and saved gunfighting for serious-minded folks. These things are not toys. No word yet on whether the arrested are named "Hatfield" or "McCoy."

I'll be interested to see how the county handles the case. My hope, of course, is that these irresponsible idiots get the book thrown at them. I hate to see a free man sent to jail, like I hate to see a healthy man become weak and sick; but I'm willing to make an exception in this case. I'll keep you posted.

MSN Money - Associated Press Business News: Asian Travel Offers British Support

Vacation in London:

That is the advice of the head of the Pacific Asia Travel Association, Peter de Jong. His statement on topic shows that nobility of spirit can be found in travel agents as well as anywhere else:

After the tsunami, PATA urged tourists to visit tsunami-affected areas as part of the recovery process. Today we ask tourists who intended to visit the U.K. to continue with their visit. The resolve and unity of civilized people will prevail.
Well said.

The Fourth Rail

Was the IRA Involved?

It's a natural question, given that the IRA has more experience than anyone in carrying out terror attacks in London. There is no evidence to suggest that they were involved in the execution of the attack -- but there is some reason to think they might have provided intelligence and planning information, as I note today over at the Fourth Rail.

'Reason to think they might have,' I wish to make clear, is a long way from 'proof that they did.' But it is a question that our intelligence services ought to be asking -- and one we ought to be asking, too.

Publius Pundit - Blogging the democratic revolution

God Save the Queen:

I also remember what Pejman remembers about the Coldstream Guards, but also one thing more: that, at the memorial service held at St. Paul's Cathedral, Queen Elizabeth had them play The Star Spangled Banner as a hymn, and sang the words from memory.

English Queens do not sing national anthems, not as a rule. And this was one written about a war in which her own country was 'the other side.' No matter.

My compliments, for what they are worth, to the British for their upstanding behavior in the face of yesterday's attacks. We will know more such days in the future, and would do well to learn how to meet them. The lady who served tea, like the Queen, is a model for us all.

Yahoo! Mail - The best web-based email!

SEAL Memorial Services:

A squid of my association sends. I don't know if civilians are welcome, but if you are close by one of these locations and wanted to go hoist a sign or simply wave a flag on the entrance routes, I'm sure you'd be appreciated by any family heading that way.

It is with great sorrow, that the Naval Special Warfare Foundation and the UDT-SEAL Association announce the memorial services for ten Navy SEALs killed in Afghanistan. Our thoughts and prayers go out to the families of these men during this very difficult time.

In Virginia, the memorial service will be held at 1000, Friday, July 8, 2005, in the NAB, Little Creek Base Theater for the five members of SEAL Team TEN and the one member of SDV Team TWO who died in Afghanistan. The uniform for active duty Navy is Service Dress Blue.

The five SEALs from SEAL Team TEN are:

· Chief Petty Officer Jacques J. Fontan, 36, Class 219, of New Orleans, Louisiana. Jacques is survived by his wife, Charissa.

· LCDR Erik S. Kristensen, 33, Class 233, of San Diego, California. Erik is survived by his parents RADM Edward Kristensen and Suzanne “Sam” Kristensen.

· Petty Officer 1st Class Jeffery A. Lucas, 33, Class 191, of Corbett, Oregon. Jeff is survived by his wife of 12 years, Rhonda, and their 4-year-old son, Seth.

· LT Michael M. McGreevy, Jr., 30, Class 230, of Portville, New York. Mike is survived by his wife, Laura, and their 1-year-old daughter, Molly.

· Petty Officer 1st Class Jeffrey S. Taylor, 30, Class 229, of Midway, West Virginia. Jeff is survived by his wife, Erin.

The SEAL from SDV Team TWO is:

· Petty Office 2nd Class Danny P. Dietz, 25, Class 232, of Littleton, Colorado. Dan is survived by his wife, Marie.

In Hawaii, the memorial service will be held at 1000, Monday, July 11, 2005, at the Punchbowel National Cemetery in Honolulu for the four members of SDV Team ONE who also perished in Afghanistan. The uniform for active duty Navy is Summer White.

The four SEALs lost from SEAL Delivery Vehicle Team ONE are:

· Senior Chief Petty Officer Daniel R. Healy, 36, Class 176, of Exeter, New Hampshire. Dan is survived by his wife, Normida, four children from his former wives, and three stepchildren.

· LT Michael P. Murphy, 29, Class 236, of Medford, New York. Mike is survived by his parents Dan and Maureen Murphy.

· Petty Officer 2nd Class Eric S. Patton, 22, Class 239, of Boulder City, Nevada. Eric is survived by his Navy SEAL father James Patton, Class 94.

· Petty Officer 2nd Class James Suh, 28, Class 237, of Deerfield Beach, Florida. James is survived his father Solomon Suh.

Those desiring to make donations and/or interested in helping the families of these men, may contact the Naval Special Warfare Foundation, at (757) 363-7490, info@nswfoundation.org, or by writing to Naval Special Warfare Foundation, P.O. Box 5965, Virginia Beach, Virginia 23471. The NSW Foundation has information on programs which can assist the families with their current and future needs. Any assistance you can provide is sincerely appreciated.

If you desire to send condolences to any of the families, you may address your envelopes to the surviving spouse or parents C/o the Naval Special Warfare Foundation, and we will forward to the families.
It's hard to measure the weight of losing such men. They cannot be replaced from the general run of mankind, not with all the training in the world. They are special, indeed.

Xinhua - English

China Chooses Contractors:

Looks like the PRC will be using military contractors heavily in its attempt to modernize its military structure. A lot of this is being driven by Chinese studies of the Iraq war and how the US military fights. It's interesting to see what lessons they are drawing from our experiences.

They've apparently decided that logistics in particular can be farmed out to contractors. Now, that's an interesting decision. I understand the reasoning, but it will be interesting to see how it stands up if China finds itself engaged in a real fight at some point. One of the groups you definitely want to have subject to military discipline, I would think, is the group providing for the logistical needs of your fighters.

Of course, in China, the justice system works somewhat differently than ours (to say the least that might be said!). So it could be that this will be less of a problem under their system than ours.

Grim's Hall

Edge of the Wild, II

I had a close encounter with a black bear today -- first one I've had in a couple of years. Apparently there's one in the area that travels across the property regularly. I'd seen scat, but today I crossed paths with the young fellow in person.

I was on the way back from the swimming lake, with the boy. We were passing a raspberry patch when I heard a large animal move suddenly, crouching among the thorn vines. This would have been maybe ten, fifteen feet away, right off the road. I wasn't sure if it was a bear or a deer at first -- we had seen a doe on the way down -- but because of the berries, I figured we ought to assume a bear. And a bear hitting the ground is a warning sign, which can preceed an attack.

Black bear are not terribly dangerous, and unlikely to charge a full grown man who is obviously aware of them and not afraid. Since we are in Virginia, I take no more precaution of them than to carry a knife in case one of them decides to test the proposition -- but I've encountered many bears in my time, and I really don't expect any trouble from ursus americanus. The big bruins of that species are shy in spite of their size, and a yearling bear such as we have around here -- I knew his relative size from the scat I'd seen -- is even less likely to come after you. You have to be prepared for them, but they are reasonably good neighbors as wild animals go. The deer cause more trouble, eating the wife's flowers.

I've even been between a mother and her cub, once, with some dogs who decided to chase the cub for sport. The mother was alarmed, but once she realized that I was defending the cub rather than aiding the dogs, she stopped and waited until her cub was safe, and then they fled together.

Thus is the black bear. They're not friendly, but they're not hateful either. If we were in grizzly country, things would be different: instead of crouching down to hide, a grizzly would be just as likely to kill you out of hand. If I were expecting that kind of company, I'd be taking Jimbo's advice on a swimming companion -- something in a .30-06 would make a good walking stick.

On the other hand, I'd obviously startled the fellow, to judge from his reaction. So, it was time to move along.

I took the boy and we moved around the patch and back up towards the house, which is atop a small ridge. I met the wife coming down the hill, pistol strapped to her hip. She'd seen the bear heading our way, and decided to come check on us.

Beowulf was not at all frightened. It's not his first bear either, nor even his second. When he was a very little boy indeed, and we lived on Burnt Mountain in Georgia, we had a three hundred pounder who would come and look into the windows from outside the house. He never caused any trouble at all, just curious. We kept food and garbage properly stored, and someone was almost always about, so he did not attempt any scavenging. Beowulf knew his face at the window, and was not troubled even then.

Another time, a little cub broke into our screened in porch. He was also just curious -- there was nothing there to interest him, so he passed on his way directly, but not before looking through the glass.

In any event, it's pleasant to be back in bear country. I realize that it's an odd thing to say, since these are large wild animals who might -- long odds though it is -- attack one of us, particularly the child. But the child is always with either me or his mother, and the bears have never been bad company. I leave him the raspberries, and he leaves us alone. I'd rather have him for a neighbor than many a neighbor I've had in those years we've lived in cities, I can tell you.

It is important to keep proper food discipline, though, which can interfere with gardening: black bears will eat many garden fruits and vegetables, as well as fruit from trees. It's important that they not learn to look for human agricultural products as food sources. The raspberry bush is natural and appropriate; the pear tree you planted near the house is not.

Well, I've been thinking about getting a dog anyway. It wouldn't hurt to provide something to keep the bear from getting too close -- for the bear's sake, since not all people will tolerate it, and the next family may shoot it if it gets close to their house or their regular walking paths. Even if you like the things, and I do myself, you have to consider how the next guy is going to react to a bear that is just a little too used to being around people.

Scotsman.com News - News Archive - Revolutionary principles stand the test of time

Revolutionary Principles:

Thanks to Southern Appeal for this editorial from The Scotsman:

[I]t is also important to say, this 4 July , that one need not have ever visited the US to feel in tune with what it means to be an American. It is an empire of the mind (and the imagination) as much as it is a military and economic superpower. The principles of the American Revolution remain sound. The World Trade Centre no longer stands, but the language of the Declaration of Independence and the Bill of Rights does.

No other country has embedded the "pursuit of happiness" - the great goal of mankind - in the foundations of the state; nowhere else is the idea of liberty so revered. There is such a thing as an American sensibility and it can be felt from the Baltic to the Pacific.

Could the United States be doing better? Wrong question. If not America, then who? No-one, that's who. At its best, America and American ideals remain, in Lincoln's famous words, "the last, best hope of mankind". The United States still believes in a place called hope. As it celebrates its 229th birthday today, we should too.
Scotland was the birthplace of much of the thoughts enshrined in the American way. It has been too long since I have read one of her native sons celebrating those thoughts so openly. Good show, and well said.

Bladework:KABAR

Bladework: KABAR Knives

I was back down at the swimming lake today, and spent quite a while in the water. This provides me with an opportunity to do a little product-comparison for those of you who are choosing a fighting knife.

I mentioned that the last trip involved a KABAR USMC Knife, designed for WWII Marines. We're several days from the swim now, and I can report the following: there is some mild discoloration along the steel edge, and on the butt of the knife where the baked protective layer has chipped due to more than a decade of being used as a hammer in field circumstances (such as, "I don't feel like looking for a hammer. Hand me the KABAR").

It's nothing serious -- it'll clear off with a few strokes on an oiled whetstone. The knife requires minimal maintenance, and it's good to go. The leather sheath took more than a full day to dry, however.

I also own a "Next Generation" KABAR, with serrations, and it was that knife I took swimming with me today. Now, I'm the guy who prefers lever-action rifles and revolvers to anything semiautomatic. The old USMC KABAR is a thing of beauty, and the NextGen one is not. It's all too new, too black, not enough leather.

All that said -- if you're looking for a knife to swim with, it really is a lot better.

The steel blade lacks a baked protective layer, but is instead blasted with glass beads until its outer shell is so smooth as to be essentially immune to water. The result is a knife that is substantially more waterproof than traditional stainless steel, with the good qualities you usually only get with carbon steel. It will not rust, if you take even minimal care of it, but it is not as fragile as regular stainless steel, and it holds an edge better than any other "stainless" blade I've had.

The leather sheath is made from a different grade of leather, and dried quite quickly.

There is a straight edge variant, if you'd prefer that. I would have myself, in fact, but it was not available when I bought the thing -- which, I'm embarrassed to mention, was the very day it came out.

Ahem. Anyway, there you are. If you want a "big knife" of the "Military Fighting/Utility" variation, and you plan to take it in the water, the NextGen KABAR has my recommendation. It's not quite as good a fighting knife as a Bowie style, but the straight blade has a lot of good qualities, and I am certainly proud to carry one myself when I'm planning on getting wet.

Grim's Hall

The Edge of the Wild:

Patient readers have endured my griping about the perils of the recent move -- especially the @#$@ wasps, which stung me up again yesterday. Nevertheless, now that I've managed to get the secure satellite connection working, there are some advantages to living out here.

On Sunday, I took my little boy swimming for the first time. He is three. There is a lake near here, fed by one of the streams that eventually reach confluence with the Rappahannock river.

We followed the stream up a cataract of stones from the base, climbing over the stones until we reached the spillway at the top. The lake was spread out before us. Beowulf wanted to go on, but of course he does not know how to swim like his namesake:

Swimming was a popular sport, both to compete in and to watch, and it seems according to texts that it was considered quite fair to try and drown your opponent. Some of the heroes in the sagas are even said to have competed in swimming competitions whilst wearing their armour. (This is possible. We have tried it with the tunic, trousers and shoes, as well as wearing a mail shirt. The effect is to place your body in a more legs down position in the water. This makes for tiresome swimming, and we found that the Breast stroke was the only really viable way to swim.)
I put the boy up on my shoulders, and walked right out into the lake. It was rather like swimming in a mailshirt -- add fifty pounds to your shoulders -- but it was possible. I swam to the dock about a hundred yards away. I hadn't planned on going out into the water, so I wasn't dressed for it -- when we came out, my clothes were dripping wet and so was my knife. Still, I had chosen the WWII-model Kabar for the hike: if it was good enough for Iwo Jima, it certainly won't be hurt by a passage through a Virginia lake.

Beowulf loved it. He immediately ran back to the bottom of the cataract, wanting to go again. So, we went again: the climb up, and the swim across. After that, I made him sit on the dock and watch me swim alone. I can tell from the interest and joy he shows in it that he is going to be a powerful swimmer in his day.

This morning, while working on the lawn mower, I heard a thrashing of limbs off to my right. I turned my head, and saw that a young stag was walking out of the bushes, not twenty yards away. He looked at me in the most astonished fashion -- four points, still covered in velvet -- and I spoke to him. He did not run, but after a moment, dipped his head down and up again quickly to see how I would react to the threat. I told him not to worry, that I was not hunting at the moment, and indeed he did not seem to worry at all. He passed on his way without fear, so far as I could tell.

There remains a lot to be done, and the @#$@# wasps really must go. Still, it's a nice place to be, for as long as we get to be here. Of course, contracts being what they are, in six months or a year we'll have to move again.

Cotillion

The Cotillion Salutes MilBlogs:

I think that all of you gentlemen would enjoy a visit to today's Independence Day celebration at the Cotillion*, the webring for conservative women bloggers. It's a salute to the MilBlogs, which is kind of them; but you may find other things to enjoy as well.

*(If you're like me, and you wondered just what a "cotillion" might be, it turns out it's another word for a debutante ball.)

The Daily Blogster

Signatories:

The Daily Blogster has a fine post [UPDATE: Or not so fine; see Eric's comments] today on the fates of the signatories of the Declaration of Independence. I would like to speak to one part of it: it is sadly incomplete in its account of the fate of Button Gwinnett.

The first part of the tale is told well by the Florida National Guard. You must understand, however, that Florida was on the other side in the Revolution -- and the ancestors of the Florida National Guard were fierce loyalists.

Now it was the turn of the Rebels to invade Florida. Lachlan McIntosh and Button Gwinnett (the latter a signatory of the American Declaration of Independence) organized an invasion force of several thousand soldiers and in the spring of 1777 set out for Florida. Browne’s Rangers and Indians worried about the flanks of the invading army while ships and boats of the Royal Navy denied them use of coastal waterways and rivers. Most of the invading army, once crossed into Florida, spent its time ravaging frontier homesteads and settlements. One portion of the Rebel army was dispatched to loot the British settlements on Amelia Island. Another detachment, 109 Georgia militiamen under Colonel John Baker, while waiting for the main army to catch up, advanced against what it thought to be a small band of disorganized East Florida Rangers. In fact, this was a "Judas Goat" detachment which lured the Rebels into an ambush. Three columns of 100 men each, containing British Regulars, Rangers, and Indians, converged on Baker’s small force. The Rebels were soundly defeated.
Button Gwinnett was the son of a minister who had chosen to make his way in politics instead of religion. A charming fellow, so we are told, he was a successful figure in early Revolutionary politics, which is why he was sent by Georgia's legislature to sign the Declaration of Independence.

Lachlan McIntosh was a relative of John Mohr (gael. "the Great") McIntosh, a hero of an earlier Jacobite uprising. John McIntosh was brought to Georgia by the founder of the colony, Sir James Edward Oglethorpe, a soldier, engineer, and philanthropist whose main design for the colony had been to provide a second chance for 'the worthy poor,' providing them with land and hope instead of the threat of debt prisons. Oglethorpe also had a kind spot in his heart for the Scots, who had fought valiantly for their ancestral king and were now being run off the land. He offered a place to the McIntosh clan, on the Altamaha river where they could serve as a buffer between Savannah and the Spanish settlements in Florida. Oglethorpe and John McIntosh, with their Coastal Rangers, fought and won the famous battle of Bloody Marsh, which defeated Spanish attempts to move against the British colonies from the south. They also established the Highland Mountain Rangers, which continues to exist today as part of the Georgia National Guard.

("Highland Mountain" sounds redundant to American ears, but it is proper in the British military system of the day. "Highland" denoted a force made up primarily of Scottish Highlanders; "Mountain," a force trained or intended primarily for mountain fighting. "Rangers" were a force of mounted infantry assigned to patrol a wilderness or frontier.)

Lachlan McIntosh came from this militant, "Scottish-American" tradition. His family had been brought to America to fight for Georgia, and he fought for her. On the other hand, his family had come to Georgia first because they'd fought against the German fellow occupying the British throne, and when the chance came to do so again, the McIntoshes were only too happy to become revolutionaries. Lachlan later served with George Washington at Valley Forge, and was so treasued by Washington in those difficult days that Washington personally saw to his promotion and, after Valley Forge, gave over command of an important part of the Western frontier to McIntosh. The mission was to open the Ohio river valley by negotiating from the local indians the right to open a string of forts. This mission was also a success, and it paved the way for the great expansion West that came after the Revolution.

Both he and Gwinnett were proud men, and their cooperation on the Florida invasion was sorely tested by the fact that each wished to be in charge. McIntosh was an officer of the Continental forces, but Gwinnett won overall control through his political popularity. Then, when the mission turned into a disaster, sought to blame McIntosh for the failure. McIntosh in turn detested Gwinnett's use of political charm instead of merit, and was sorely offended when he found himself being given the blame for failure when he had been denied the command. In truth, both men were to blame: Gwinnett most of all, for putting himself forward to command when he had no military experience, and McIntosh, for refusing to cooperate with him or even to bring his officers to attend Gwinnett's councils of war. It was this combined failure of leadership that led to the disaster in Florida.

The last part of the debacle came when McIntosh decided to move his forces deeper into Florida to strike at enemy bases, and Gwinnett refused to come. So, McIntosh took just the official Continental Army forces, leaving the Georgia militia under Gwinnett's command. But Gwinnett refused to turn over any of the supplies to which McIntosh's forces were entitled, meaning that the expedition had no food and little ammunition. Unable to carry on with no logistical support, McIntosh returned to Savannah with a heart full of wrath.

On the floor of the Georgia legislature, he testified as to what had happened, and called Button Gwinnett "a Scoundrel and a Lying Rascal."

Two weeks later, Gwinnett challenged McIntosh to a duel. They exchanged fire on the morning of 16 May 1777, not even a year after Gwinnett's signature was applied to the Declaration of Independence. McIntosh took a wound in the leg, and Gwinnett was also hit. Both men fell, but McIntosh got back up and offered to exchange another shot. Gwinnett could not rise: his hip was shattered by the bullet, and he died of his wound three days later.

As mentioned, McIntosh was later sent to serve with George Washington, in part because his shooting of a popular politician made it hard for him to remain effective in Georgia. After his success in the West, he returned to fight in the second battle of Savannah, at which he was wounded and captured by the British. He survived his captivity, however, and after the war was made the master of the port of Savannah. He and Washington met once again when Washington came to tour Savannah in 1791. The President brought new cannons as a gift to reinforce the port's defenses, and these "Washington Guns" are still on display on Bay Street, just by the Savannah government house.

VBIED

The VBIED Threat:

Our friends at Blackwater Security have produced a paper on the subject, focusing on VBIED tech and the possibility for the deployment of such things in America. There is a handy-dandy guide from the ATF on how far you need to evacuate from a suspected VBIED, depending on the size of the vehicle. (I'm told the graphic is unclassified and free for public dissemination. Who knew the ATF did anything useful?)

Sharp Knife

The 1770s Remembered:

I was sure that if I went by Sharp Knife this weekend, Noel would have a fine feast of Revolutionary lessons for us. He did not disappoint.

Post after post points to articles on the history of the Revolution, the culture of the 1770s, the facts of the life of King George III, and many other interesting items as well.

If I were in the business of issuing titles, I would have to award Noel some fitting title in recognition of his excellence at bringing the Revolutionary era to speak to us in our own. If this Independence Day moves you to reflect upon those days, as it should, take some time to read through the selection that Sharp Knife has to offer.

The Gun Line: Aghhh! You Got Me!

Another Tag?

There are certain things which roll downhill, and this is one. Sgt. B. tagged Doc, who tagged me. As always, I'll forgo the pleasure of foisting this off on someone else, but I'll answer the questions. I'm always surprised that anyone cares enough to ask, but obviously some of you do, since I keep getting asked to do these things. Well enough.

What I was doing 10 years ago: Let's see, 1995 -- I suppose I was in college then, working my way through with the Southeastern Detective Agency.

Five years ago: I would have been getting ready to go to China with my wife, and finishing up the classwork in my Master's.

One year ago: Same thing I'm doing now: contract work for DOD.

Yesterday: Mostly just work.

5 snacks I enjoy:
1. Chips and salsa.
2. Full fledged nachos with chili, fresh peppers, and sour cream.
3. Beer (hey, Doc listed Vodka!)
4. Pizza.
5. Mozzerella sticks with pasta sauce.

5 songs I know the words to:
1. "My Rifle, My Pony, and Me."
2. "The Old Orange Flute."
3. "Kelly, the Boy from Killane."
4. "Streets of Laredo."
5. "The Marine Corps Hymn."

5 Things I would do with $100 million:
1. Buy very many acres of bottomland out by the Rocky Mountains.
2. Build a fine house on it.
3. Set aside some money for more houses for my childrens' families.
4. Fence it.
5. Buy a large herd of good cattle and a small number of first-class bucking bulls to breed, and go into the cattle business.

5 Locations I would like to vacation:
1. York, England -- there's an old Viking city there.
2. Scotland.
3. The great parks of the West: Yosemite, perhaps.
4. Tombstone, Arizona, during the Western festival.
5. The Winter Range single-action shooting festival.

5 Bad Habits I have:
1. I've been known to drink more beer than is wise on occasion.
2. I've been known to play practical jokes on poor Sovay.
3. Teaching the 2 year old to swordfight was not as wise as it seemed at first. Now he's 3, and has much more strength for swinging things...
4. Impatience with people, especially when...
5. I've forgotten to eat for a day or more because I've been lost in thought.

5 things I like doing:
1. Shooting
2. Tickling the boy.
3. Tickling his mother.
4. Giving Sovay a hard time.
5. Spending an evening, just every now and then, drinking and singing old songs at the pub with friends.

5 things I would never wear:
1. Doc's got good advice here. I'll just assert that everything on his list goes for me, too.

5 TV Shows I like:
1. Firefly -- which isn't on TV anymore, but it was once.
2. I also used to like Babylon 5, but I had the good fortune to encounter it during the first season and watch it develop.
3. I haven't had access to television in a while, but I used to watch the Professional Bull Riders' rodeos on OLN a couple of years back.
4. We're really running out here... when I was a kid, I liked the Lone Ranger.
5. And the dodgy Buck Rogers show from the late 70s.

5 Biggest Joys of the Moment:
1. The boy.
2. His mother.
3. A certain fighting knife which his mother snuck and bought me off Ebay for our anniversary.
4. My extended family.
5. Strength.

5 Favorite toys:
1. I'm not sure I have five toys. I do have an Xbox from a year or so ago.
2. I have some good books, which I even sometimes have time to read.
3. Doc lists a firearm as a toy, but you'll forgive me if I dissent: guns are not toys, even when you enjoy the practice of keeping up the art. Still, if I were to list one, the one I enjoy shooting the most is my Smith & Wesson M629-4, using .44 Special ammo. It's still fun with .44 Magnum ammo, but the Special cowboy loads Winchester makes are just a lot of fun.
4. The boy's little expandable lightsabers -- yeah, I know, it was a mistake to teach him to swordfight. But still, it's fun.
5. Hiking boots. I get a lot of pleasure out of where you can go in them.

5 next victims:

I don't intend to tap anyone else. However, if you're feeling expansive, I'd love to hear what my readers have to say. If you'd like to jump in and tell me some of your favorite things, or bad habits, or whatever -- feel free. That's what the comments are for.

I really ought to make Lizard Queen do this, though, since she hit me with that book thing. But I'm a nice guy, really.

The Belmont Club

Speculation Alert:

Thus he himself names it, but this analysis at The Belmont Club is as good as anything I've seen or thought about the missing recon forces. There's something big going on in the area, and we've had a run of bad luck.

"Bad luck" is an element of Clausewitzian "friction," one that can never be eliminated from the battlefield. However, it can be managed in some ways, chiefly, training and force selection. As demonstrated by the loss of Navy SEALs, however, training can't remove the problem -- just reduce its scale.

Wretchard's advice on roulette is a simplified version of the advice given to me by a former professional roulette player I knew in China.

He was an Australian national, and had since given up the high-stakes game for the more certain payoff of playing the Australian social welfare system: the fellow had managed to take advantage of the very problems of psychology we were just discussing in order to con the Aussie gov't into believing that he was unemployable through reason of insanity, and thus they provided him with a nice pension for the rest of his days. It would have been only modest in Australia, but by moving to China, he was able to live quite well on the same sum.

The principle he was advocating -- and I pass it on to you, not so much in case you should play roulette, as because it is a useful concept in many areas of life -- was to increase your bet in the face of any loss so that when you did finally win, you would be ahead. This means, in effect, not "doubling up," but tripling up.

In other words, say you are betting on red. You lose a dollar. The next round, you bet on red again, but you now bet three dollars: one to replace the one you just lost, one to cover the bet you are now making, and one "for yourself." If you win, you are now not even, but up. If you lose, you increase your bet again: this time, you bet twelve: four to replace what you've lost (1 + 3 on two rounds), four to cover the bet you are making now, and four "for yourself." &c.

Eventually, the odds are that you will win. When you do win, you're ahead for the whole game. Then you start back over at one dollar, and continue to bet one dollar each time until you lose, at which point you start back up the ladder. (Of course, instead of "one dollar" you can bet any amount -- one hundred or one thousand dollars, if you have the money.)

This, he explained, was the real function of table limits -- to close off the ladder at the top end, so that the house retained the advantage. Even that can be overcome, he said, through the (illegal, in most casinos) use of a cartel: a set of fellows who are each ready to step in and throw the maximum amount of money on the bet when it reaches the top of the ladder.

This had worked well for him in his younger days, but was far more labor intensive than the simple collection of cheques (as it is written in British English). Still, the principle is solid enough for occasions, like war, when gambling is inevitable.

GOA Alert-- June 28, 2005

A Particularly Bad Bill:

"Anti-gang" legislation shouldn't leave families facing ten years in Federal prison. I suspect a jury would refuse to convict on these terms, but juries are always something of a crap shoot. This is one bill we ought to defeat before it gets out of the Senate.

Winds of Change.NET: Why does Brian Leiter Want to Kill Poor People?

Gentlemen & Politics:

The Armed Liberal over at Winds Of Change takes on "progressive" rudeness. It is done in response to this post celebrating harsh rudeness as, I gather, an effective means to persuade people. Mr. Leiter argues that one should slap down points of view that are -- well, he would say that they are uninformed and not worth taking seriously. By controlling what game is welcome on the playing field, then, you can have only arguments that support your basic worldview: you can argue about the proper expression of liberalism, but not about whether liberalism has the right answers to the underlying questions (or whether conservatism does, since either side can attempt this technique).

The only rules for discourse at Grim's Hall are that you must be kind to your neighbors, though you are free to disassemble their ideas if you can; and you must be willing to stand and fight for what you assert, rather than being hit-and-run spammers who won't engage with the other readers. I think that system works very well. I don't know how many of you have had your minds changed here about many things -- but I suspect that the influence of a polite debate among free men and women is stronger than Mr. Leiter believes it to be.

I think A.L. raises a very proper objection, by pointing out that the "easy questions" Mr. Leiter proposes are in fact very difficult questions.

One of them -- whether Bush's economic policies are good for "most" people -- I've written about, arguing the other side. Presumably Mr. Leiter would not care to discuss the opposite viewpoint, which is fine; I have no interest in talking to people who are going to be rude to me, or to my commenters. Still, there is a fully developed alternative understanding of the question, one that is based in real-world experience and deeply moving to many people. A political strain that flatly refuses to even consider it is going to do badly in a democracy, which underlines Armed Liberal's point about the problems Leiter et al have in politics.

That is to say that those Liberals among you who read Grim's Hall are better equipped for the political arena than the liberals who read Leiter, even if you're not persuaded at all. It's hard to persuade someone when you've never stopped to consider what they already believe to be true. Any persuasive argument has to start from the ground that the other person currently holds. You have to know where that ground is in order to figure out how to move them to the ground where you want them to be.

That is to say: you can't move a rock without pushing it, and you can't push against it if you don't really know where it is. Even if you actually are 100% correct, you can't persuade people you won't listen to.

Consider Doc Russia's post today, in which he proposes a compromise between Left and Right on judicial nominations: essentially, that we agree to set aside abortion entirely, not considering one way or the other what a nominee's opinions might be, and focus instead on the problem of Kelo. Here, he notes correctly, Left and Right have a common agreement about what we want from a judge, even if there is some difference in how we get to that position. We could, therefore, search for someone on whom we'd agree, rather than simply getting ready to fight over anyone who was nominated.

(An aside: The difference in methods may not be quite as great as Doc suggests. I think most of you would locate me on the Right, but my objection is as much about injustice and political corruption as it is about property rights. I adhere to the defense of property rights because it is so powerful a means to the end of protecting individual liberty, and restraining the powerful from injustice. I think the position on the Right doesn't stop with, "Well, because he owns it," but continues on to add, "and being able to be secure in your property is how good folk can build and defend the dreams they really care about -- home, hearth, family -- without being pushed around by the high and mighty.")

Still, Doc takes the time to understand the Left's position, to consider how it might braid with his own, and offers a compromise that would allow us to move forward smoothly in what is likely to be a difficult and nasty political dispute. That's exactly the kind of thinking that has worked in American politics through the centuries, and it's a fitting expression on Independence Day weekend.

That's not to say it always works -- frankly, I think it's doubtful that either side will let abortion go, and indeed I'm certain that there are many on each side who think it's far more important than any other issue at stake. But I think Doc is right to try to look for a way forward. Old Doc likes to call himself "Grunt" in his posts, and I've heard him say of himself that he's 'really just a thug.' But there's more wisdom in that thug than in some professors, and there's an end on it.

UPDATE: Ok, not quite the end. There's another thing. I appreciate intelligent prose as much as the next fellow, and my favorite writers -- Sir Walter Scott, for example -- can turn a phrase with anyone. But you ought to try to be clear about what you're saying, if only so you yourself realize when you're sounding like a crank. Leiter quotes a fellow who wrote to agree on the importance of shutting down debate:

I teach a 'comparative world religions' course, and chills run up and down my spine when we come to Christianity and must discuss such things as apocalyptic eschatology and substitutionary atonement, knowing what power such doctrines and ideas have held over the masses then and now, here and elsewhere. Reading your blog reminds me that not everyone has gone mad, that not everyone has succumbed to the 'pathology of normalcy' Erich Fromm diagnosed as lacking a disposition toward truth, in his words: 'the fact that millions of people share the same forms of mental pathology does not make these people sane.'
"Substitutionary atonement" means, in this case, "believing that Jesus could die to release mankind of sin." "Pathology" is "the study of disease and its causes."

The author of this piece might have chosen to write, "I teach a 'comparative world religions course,' and chills run up and down my spine when we come to Christianity. Many of my students are sick, because they believe that Jesus died for their sins. Thank goodness not everyone has gone mad, although millions of people share this mental disease." This phrasing is better, if only because it clearly prompts a question: Given that diseases require a cure, just what are you suggesting here?

The answer to that question is frightening enough that it cannot be spoken directly. That is the real reason for the use of jargon words like "substitutionary atonement" -- to provide a barrier between words and actions. The author says he is one of the few who have "a disposition towards truth," but in fact, he is afraid even of the truth of his own thoughts. He dares not phrase them plainly, so they might be understood, so they might require action.

Grim's Hall

Moving (Largely) Finished:

The "moving house without a proper truck" saga has finally concluded itself, and now all that remains is unpacking in the new place. (Hot topic for discussion at Grim's Hall: "Hey, have you seen the other bottle of hornet killer? These things are everywhere.")

Thank you for your patience during this slow-posting week. Hopefully things will resume their usual (ahem) breakneck pace.

Starting tomorrow. I think I need a day of rest today.

Winds of Change.NET: The Alliance: U.S. & India Sign Major 10-Year Defense Pact

Joe's Right:

The India-US Defense Pact is a very big deal. You'll all want to read what he's got about it today. The pact itself is huge, but it's of even larger potential importance: if managed carefully, an India-US alliance could become the most important global force since the height of NATO.

Boffins create zombie dogs | The Other Side | Breaking News 24/7 - NEWS.com.au (27-06-2005)

Oh, Yea! Zombies!

Surely there must be a torch-bearing mob somewhere in the US? Apparently not.

Racial Disparities Found in Pinpointing Mental Illness

Another Psychology Post:

I was a little alarmed to see this week that Tom Cruise came out against psychology. His reasons for doing so are doubtless different from my own reasons (which are described particularly in the comments to this post). I know nothing at all about Scientology, so I'm not in a position to judge its reasoning here. Still, finding Tom Cruise on your side on issues of sanity is somewhat like finding Michael Moore on your side on issues of foreign policy: It has to be alarming.

So, I'd like to take a moment to underline two articles from today's worldwide press that support my contention that psychology is not a science, and ought not to be allowed to exercise the power it does in our legal system and, indeed, our general society. The first is from the Washington Post, and is called "Racial Disparities Found in Pinpointing Mental Illness." Here are some important paragraphs.

Although schizophrenia has been shown to affect all ethnic groups at the same rate, the scientist found that blacks in the United States were more than four times as likely to be diagnosed with the disorder as whites. Hispanics were more than three times as likely to be diagnosed as whites....

The data confirm the fears of experts who have warned for years that minorities are more likely to be misdiagnosed as having serious psychiatric problems. "Bias is a very real issue," said Francis Lu, a psychiatrist at the University of California at San Francisco. "We don't talk about it -- it's upsetting. We see ourselves as unbiased and rational and scientific." ...

Unlike AIDS or cancer, mental illnesses cannot be diagnosed with a brain scan or a blood test. The impressions of doctors -- drawn from verbal and nonverbal cues -- determine whether a patient is healthy or sick.

"Because we have no lab test, the only way we can test if someone is psychotic is, we use ourselves as the measure," said Michael Smith, a psychiatrist at the University of California at Los Angeles who studies the effects of culture and ethnicity on psychiatry. "If it sounds unusual to us, we call it psychotic."

Emphasis added. I assume that the reader understand why that is alarming. This isn't just a "race" story: if anyone's experience, goals, or thoughts sound "unusual" to psychologists, they're insane. You may just need to be medicated for your own good, as in the case of "one thirty-year-old woman" who was talking fast, called people at all hours, and didn't seem to need much sleep. "[H]er charts showed she had been hospitalized for schizophrenia and treated with injectable medications, which suggested that her doctors thought her schizophrenia was particularly severe." In fact, she didn't have schizophrenia at all.

The story lists other things that can be diagnosed as severe mental illness. One of them is "intense religious belief." What constitutes "intense" is obviously just as variable as anything else in this business: whatever strikes the psychologist as "unusual... we call it psychotic."

The second story comes from the Bangkok Post. It is called "Mental Health Problems Soar in Bangkok." The story takes it as read that these problems are real -- after all, psychologists say that they are real.
The number of Bangkok people with mental health problems has soared 900% from 587 per 100,000 to 5,485 in three years, according to a National Economic and Social Development Board report.
The number of people with problems has soared 900%. In three years.

Gonna need a few more "hospitals" to confine these people.

Madder

Kelo II:

The more I think about this, the madder I get. Doc has a post on the topic, and at the bottom in an update he notes that a town in Texas has already moved to take several buildings away from existing companies, in order to build a marina. "The Great SCOTUS Land Grab," they call it.

One of the things that's always bothered me about the way we do things in this country, to be honest, is that you've never been able to own anything free and clear. You pay for it, you pay off any loan you took to cover the cost, and you "own" it -- but only so long as you continue to pay the government, every single year, whatever tax it cares to asses against you for the privilege.

If you fail, of course, they are free to take your land, or whatever else they like, and sell it in order to pay the taxes you "owe" -- based on whatever valuation their own assessors care to put on the value of your property.

The fact that you worked your whole life to build something means nothing at all. In Savannah, I saw many old folks run out of homes they'd lived in all their lives because suddenly, following the publication of Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, it became fashionable to have a second home in Savannah. Nicholas Cage and the like were buying up places; real estate values rose; and the government raised taxes on the basis of this inflated, temporary bubble.

Then they sold those people's houses to pay themselves the taxes that they felt entitled to collect. Rob from the poor to feed the rich.

This is not what America was meant to be about. As I've said from time to time, I'm a Georgia Democrat -- the party that is best known today for producing Zell Miller. But in an earlier generation, it had a truly titanic figure at its head: James Jackson, hero of the Revolution, Senator, State Senator, Governor. James Jackson, "the prince of duelists," was the founder of the party and the defender of its ideals in the difficult days to follow the Revolution.

James Jackson fought four duels during his quest to put an end to just such lawlessness as this.

It was called 'the Yazoo Land Fraud.' The duels were on pretenses, with men famed as killers trying to slay Jackson to keep him from winning his cause. My alma mater, Georgia State University, has it this way:

In 1795 the Georgia legislature sold the state's western (or "Yazoo") lands to several companies of speculators. Rumors abounded that the purchasers had used bribery to secure passage of the Yazoo Act. Jackson, a member of the U.S. Senate since 1793, resigned his seat, returned to Georgia, and won a seat in the state legislature in order to personally organize an anti-Yazoo campaign.... Jackson and his supporters rescinded the Yazoo Act and arranged the public destruction of records associated with the sale. After being elected governor in 1798 Jackson saw to it that the substance of the Rescinding Act of 1796 was engrafted onto a revised state constitution.
"Arranged the public destruction of records" is entirely too dry. Here is what he did: when he had finally gotten the law rescinded that allowed these speculators to buy up all the land, he had the records of all these fraudulent "sales" put together in a big pile on the lawn of the statehouse. An old man he knew came forth with a magnifying glass, and focused the rays of the sun on them until they caught fire and burned. The folks of Georgia said that the Yazoo law 'had been destroyed by fire out of heaven.'

Jackson believed in the 'yeoman farmer,' that ideal of Jefferson's which held that a man who owned his land was free, free in a way that no other man could be. He took those lands and saw that they became the property, not of speculators, but of families.

Still today, the man who owns his land -- his house -- his small business -- that man is free, in a way that no one else truly is. Kelo, along with these punitive and speculation-based taxes, are a direct assault on the principle that James Jackson fought to uphold.

We are called today to remember his daring, his courage, and his ideals. This scourge has been beaten down once before. It can be again: but we will have to be bold.

Thaistunt

A Salute:

The family and I have managed to go from "nothing's going right" to "nothing's going quite right," which is a big step. I'm sorry not to have more time to blog right now, but hopefully as the move settles down things will improve.

In the meanwhile, I have something you might enjoy. I found it while reading The Bangkok Post, an interesting newspaper in many respects. This is a local feature story about all those Thai stuntment who suffer so much to make Hollywood's spoiled brats look good:

Kawee Sirikhanaerat has long learned to accept the inevitable: In every single film he appears in, his character is destined to suffer a brutal death, usually being murdered in the most sadistic and photogenic fashion. One of his dearest memories was in Lara Croft Tomb Raider 2, in which he plays a disposable baddy who's crushed to death by a giant Doric pillar in an aquatic city. "The earth splits and the roof crumbles," he says. "It's quite a death, isn't it?"
I have to say, I didn't see it. But I'm sure it was remarkable.

Curmudgeonly & Skeptical#111957134205191629

Kelo:

There have been several responses to the Kelo verdict, of which this is my favorite. Here is mine.

Last summer, the county commission of Forsyth County, Georgia -- which is, in my long experience, just as corrupt a body of public officials as you are likely to find outside of a major city with a well-established political machine -- decided to exercise this same formal power to lay claim to a portion of my boyhood home. This is forested country, down by a pretty little creek named Settendown, which is named after a Cherokee chief. The government decided to take the section by the creek and bulldoze it, in order to lay a large sewer pipe. Why did they need a large sewer pipe? Well, in order to ease the development of a massive subdivision down the way.

It happens that "a few" of the commission members are land developers; and if you add in the ones who have "friends" and family who are land developers, well, you get the idea. Anyway, this was one step from Kelo: they weren't actually bulldozing my family's house to put up a subdivision, just bulldozing part of my family's land in order to put in a sewer pipe so that the subdivision could be built. The part I always liked best; the part where I spent my boyhood with my dogs, where I learned to shoot, and where I spent many hours sitting and watching the water flow by.

The locals tried to fight it, going to the commission meetings, pointing out irrelevant details that ultimately had no bearing at all on the decision ("You know, we're the ones who elected you people, not these developers," for example). In the end, the county issued a decision which was described to me as this: take the money under eminent domain without filing a suit, or else we'll just condemn the land, bulldoze it anyway, and pay you nothing.

So the bulldozers came, and plowed it under.

My father's response to all this was to videotape it and send me a copy. He did this based on his understanding that his-grandson-my-son would enjoy watching the tractors and bulldozers at work. This was, of course, perfectly true.

My own reaction to watching it done was rather different.

Kim du Toit says that we shouldn't be surprised when somebody kills one of these construction workers. I think he's right. I had the impulse myself, and I'm a reasonably nice fellow, kind to children and puppies. It passed quickly: of course, it's not the bulldozer operator's fault that the county is ordering this done. Now, those commissioners... and the developers...

See, there you go. One minute I'm a man who's spent his life in the service of the Republic, and the government that is meant to watch over it. I'm probably more law-abiding than most, at least since I became a father; I even obey speed limits to the letter. But then, one second later, I'm seriously considering setting aside the laws once and for all, and putting things right in despite of the government.

And they weren't even bulldozing the house. Just a corner of the property.

Local governments are corrupt. They've just been handed a tool to line their pockets, and to batter their constituents into submission. The only threat at all, the one at which the commissioners laughed -- "I'll vote against you next time" -- even that is now lost. You think you'll vote me out? I'll bulldoze your house, put up a nonresidential zone instead, and you won't even be eligible to vote in the election.

Thanks for your land, though. Here's a "fair" price for it. Take it, or else.

Here's my pledge: for the good of the public order, I will never -- should I be asked to serve on a jury dealing with such a case -- vote to convict any man for any lawbreaking done to protect his property against predations of this sort. I suggest you each resolve the same. Whether he puts sugar in the gas tanks of the bulldozer, "trespasses" on his property, or shoots some mayor or developer, the worst he'll face from me is a mistrial. He'll walk, if I have anything to say about it. As far as I'm concerned, it's justified. He's just doing what he has to do to protect one of the cornerstones of our civilization against a governing class that has decided to override it.

Has decided to try, I should say. Molon labe.

Fun

Boy Has This Been A Fun Day:

Grim's Hall, virtual, is remaining put, but Grim's Hall, physical, is undergoing its pretty-much-annual move. And what a move it's been.

Today alone I've:

(a) discovered that I've lost $400 buying an internet system that, once installed, proved to be useless because of its (undocumented) inability to access secure sites -- kind of a necessity for someone like me. I'll therefore be back to using dial up, as that's the only other option where we will be.

(b) got stung by a swarm of wasps while trying to install the useless internet system, so that my arm has swollen up to look rather like Popeye's.

(c) found out at 4:30 this afternoon that the moving van promised to us for tomorrow at 8 AM will not, in fact, be available at all, even though,

(d) the carpet cleaners are coming tomorrow at 10, so that all the furniture has to be moved out before then, which coupled with the internet situation means that:

(e) until I can get the dial up account working at the new place, I'll be sitting on the floor in an empty room doing my work.

And, of course, I still have to move the furniture tomorrow. Without a moving van. Hm.

I was supposed to be spending the evening with my wife and Sovay: dear Sovay had gotten tickets to Serenity, a sneak preview down in Norfolk. I've been looking forward to it for a month.

Instead, I spent the evening and night lashing furniture to my vehicles at improbable angles, then unloading it into storage units as the new house -- I think I failed to mention this -- turns out to have been used by the previous tenet, in direct violation of the lease, as a shelter for fully twelve stray cats. Until the carpets and pads are replaced, therefore, I don't actually have a place for my furniture there, either.

Poor Sovay. She went out of her way to do something nice for me, and I let her down. And she didn't even get the fun of laughing at the sight of me, arm swollen to the size of a grapefruit, trying to load a heavy old walnut desk on top of a Chevy.

Froggy in training

Frogman In Training:

Froggy's got a little one. Go have a peek.

Milb. Down

MilBlogger Down:

But not all the way down, thank goodness. Chuck AKA TCOverride has had a too-close encounter with an IED. You might drop by and give his family a kind word -- his wife is watching the blog while he's in the hospital.

Mudville, BlackFive, Smash, and The Gun Line all have posts, as does Kim du Toit and doubtless many others.

Militia

The General Militia:

The last few days, as mentioned, I've had my father up to visit. He left yesterday morning after breakfast, but not before telling me a story I hadn't heard before. It dates to the Forsyth County, Georgia of my youth: back when the local volunteer Fire Department, of which my father was a member, was still getting started.

In those days, Forsyth County was entirely rural. In the southern and eastern parts, it was cattle country, with green and rolling pastures being the main feature of the land. In the northwestern part of the county, it was timberland, and forestry was the main industry. A modestly large county, nevertheless there were often only two deputy sheriffs on duty at any shift. There was no other law, and not much need for any, but on the rare occasion that anything bad happened -- whether a fire or a car wreck or whatever -- they called out the volunteer Firemen to lend some extra, uniformed hands.

So this one day, just about six miles from my own childhood house, a couple of fifth grade kids were returning from their afternoon's sport: shooting their .22 rifles. It was probably target shooting rather than squirrel hunting, but either was a common passtime. They came out of the backcountry and onto their red-dirt road, and started walking home.

Passing a neighbor's house, they saw a couple of men they didn't recognize taking things out of it and loading it into a strange car. The two boys -- fifth graders, now -- yelled at the strangers to demand an answer as to why they were taking their neighbors' stuff. One of the men pulled a gun, and shot at them.

Well, he missed. They didn't, returning the fire with their rifles and getting him through the stomach. He and his friend panicked, but found themselves cut off from their car by the fusilade. One of the boys ran down a powerline cut to get to a bigger road, to flag help. The other tried to keep the strangers pinned.

The two strangers managed to break into a truck that was at the house they were robbing, and they went barreling down the road. However, the kid who went for help found some, and soon the Volunteer Fire Department had cut off all the local roads. By the time the deputy got there, Volunteers were standing in the middle of the roads with shotguns. Nobody had to go get one -- they were in the truck gun rack, in case they were needed.

After the two men drove off in the stolen truck, meanwhile, the other kid went home and informed his family of the robbery. They, along with their other neighbors, got into their trucks and went hunting. They recognized the stolen truck easily -- it belonged to their neighbor, after all -- and ran it off the road. The wounded man gave in at once, but the other one tried to escape into the woods. They chased him down and beat him with sticks until he surrendered.

Eventually, word of this got back to the deputy, who headed over to collect the prisoners. He, poor fellow, missed all the excitement but still got to write the report.

I'm told that was the last robbery in that end of the county for quite a little while.

Tactics II

For those newly on-board, we’re using MCDP 1-3 Tactics (.pdf file) and the previous post can be found in this archive. The intent is not to exhaust each chapter here… but for the individual to read each chapter, hopefully have my post provide a bit more insight into matters, and to definitely utilize the comments section for questions/answers on the various sidebar issues that will pop-up.

The emphasis on Chapter 2 is on Achieving a Decision. For the layman, its likely best to put it this way: ‘Achieving an Intelligent-Decision, Quickly!’

The first few pages illustrate the Marine adoption of a flexible, imaginative, and effective war-fighting approach called maneuver warfare. This is contrasted to the incrementalist view-point best understood throughout WWI trench-warfare or attrition warfare.

Really, American’s should have learned our lessons prior to WWI back in the 1860’s as some of the battles fought in the War Between the States showed rudimentary examples of maneuver warfare. Notably the mobility demonstrated by General Stonewall Jackson… but as the organizational structure of the commands became larger; they adopted an attrition style modeled on the Napoleonic Wars of half a century earlier.

The battlefield geometry created by a Blitzkrieg can be used to explain what I’m talking about. Simplistically, imagine on the opposing side that you have a static line of battle composed of a trench. You on the other hand have a line of battle, but you punch a column composed of tanks and infantry directly through the center of the enemy. Imagine that half of your column turns right, the other half left, and they flank the enemy from the rear. You’ve just completed a double-envelopment. Or, you’ve created two artificial (non-terrain dictated) salients which have ‘pocketed’ the enemy and allow you to eliminate them.

As one Time’s Reporter wrote in 1939:

The battlefront disappeared, and with it the illusion that there had ever been a battlefront. For this was no war of occupation, but a war of quick penetration and obliteration—Blitzkrieg, lightning war. Swift columns of tanks and armored trucks had plunged through Poland while bombs raining from the sky heralded their coming. They had sawed off communications, destroyed stores, scattered civilians, spread terror. Working sometimes 30 miles ahead of infantry and artillery, they had broken down the Polish defenses before they had time to organize. Then, while the infantry mopped up, they had moved on, to strike again far behind what had been called the front.
Time Vol. XXXIV 1939


During World War II, German studies of operations on the Eastern Front led to the conclusion that small and coordinated forces possessed more combat worth than large and uncoordinated forces. Hopefully, we can now understand that in today’s modern, fast-moving, battlefield, he who makes the most intelligent decision quickly will likely prevail.


This theme is demonstrated by the chapter’s two battlefield examples:

Anzio 1943
Major General Lucas failed to take the opportunity to quickly advance on Rome and cut-off the German’s in Southern Italy. For those interested, a semi-successful (Monty screwed the pooch) example can be seen in the Falaise Pocket in which the German Seventh Army was destroyed. Had General Lucas not waited seven days in order to build up his logistics, he likely would have placed the Germans in a similar situation.

Cannae 216 BCE
Hannibal made excellent use of his opponents attempt to crush his center; he had his strong left flank composed of cavalry smash the enemies right and envelop the enemy… this newly formed salient led to a pincer movement as Hannibal rolled up his flanks.

‘Understanding Decisiveness’
Hopefully the previous pages have illustrated the importance behind achieving a decision and that making a decision is not always easy. What I thought important in this section is the concept that a battle must lead to a result beyond itself. This again marks the marriage of Tactics and Strategy.

‘Military Judgment’
“Military judgment is a developed skill that is honed by the wisdom gained through experience.” Training and experience cannot be stressed enough. The later sections ‘Understanding the Situation’, ‘Critical Vulnerabilities’, ‘Shaping the Operating Area’, ‘Main Effort’, ‘Boldness and Ruthlessness’, will be best understood by the laymen by reading the given text paragraphs.

Many people believe that brilliant commanders pull the proverbial rabbit out of the hat regarding operational planning; indeed, many of the quotes from famous Generals discuss how reliance on dogmatic doctrine is a sure way to defeat. This is true to a certain extent… but what the arm-chair General fails to realize is that every brilliant commander was schooled in the basics. Much like poetry, where the emphasis is on inspiration and artistic license… there are many years learning the basics. Intuition only applies to Military Judgment because it appears to be that way to the uninitiated, what they fail to see are the years spent learning the basics which allow the brilliant mind to reach lightening fast decisions.

IRAQ THE MODEL

Iraq The Model:

I was astonished to be informed that Iraq The Model has taken note of a post I wrote over at the 4th Rail. I've had the honor of meeting these gentlemen. Their bravery in the face of the insurgency remains a tremendous inspiration. I've not forgotten the lesson I learned from meeting them, and I hope others will not forget their example either.

Grim's Hall

Father's Day:

I had a great gift for Father's Day: my father came to visit.

He wanted to see his grandson, whose birthday, as it happens, is today -- as is my wedding anniversary. Some years, they all happen on the same day, as they did the year I was married. I told my father-in-law that my first Father's Day gift to him was taking his troublesome daughter off his hands.

Or maybe he told me that. I think we both thought of the joke.

This year, my own father trekked up here from Georgia, along with my mother. We went yesterday morning to the Warrenton Father's Day Auto Show, which is a neat little event. They close off main street, and park antique cars all up and down it. I meant to take pictures, but forgot to bring the camera. They had some good looking Galaxies, a number of Corvettes (parked in a row, so you could see the development), some 30's and 40's era Fords, plenty of 50's era Chevys, quite a few hot rods of various types, and one Vega -- a car that both my father and I found surprising to discover in a car show.

It's interesting going to these things with my father, who grew up working in his father's auto shop in Knoxville. He would glance at a vehicle up the line and say, "Oh, look, a X Y Z," where (X) was the make, (Y) was the model, and (Z) was the year. He was never wrong, not even about the year. He could tell you about the particulars of the engines' construction, as well as amusing stories about famous cars of that type he had known in the past.

It was a great way to spend the morning. We finished off with lunch at a trailer serving barbecue. It was labeled "Blue Ridge BBQ."

"Do you reckon it'll be Virginia style barbecue," my father asked, "or Appalachian style?" For those who don't eat barbecue, or haven't traveled in the South much, the difference is mostly this: Virginia style sauce is vinegar based, whereas in the southern Appalachians, it's usually ketchup-based.

Turns out the folks at Blue Ridge BBQ had decided to split the difference. They served pork, and let you add the sauce you wanted: either a ketchup based sauce, or the vinegar based sauce. It's not quite as good as having it cooked in, but it was pretty tasty. Naturally, I had the Appalachian style sauce.

Well, that's how we spent Father's Day here. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go prepare gifts for the boy. Beowulf is three today.

anarchy

"Anarchy At Sea"

I came across an article by that title from a 2003 copy of The Atlantic. It's a fascinating story, which turns out to be available here. JHD will appreciate it, if he hasn't read it already. It's the story of ships at sea, merchants under false flags, and the perils they often meet:

The Flare was a dry-bulk carrier, flagged in Cyprus, and it had a multinational crew of twenty-five. The voyage was extremely rough, with waves exceeding fifty feet. For two weeks the Flare slammed and whipped, flexing so wildly that, according to one survivor, the deck cranes appeared at times to be touching. As it was approaching the Canadian coast late one night, the Flare broke cleanly in two. The entire crew was on the stern section, which listed to the side and began to sink. Strangely, the engine continued to turn, slowly driving the hulk on an erratic course through the night. The crew managed to launch one lifeboat, but it broke away before anyone could climb aboard. The men were panicked, and ultimately twenty-one of them died. But before the end on the sinking stern, there was a moment of savage euphoria when a ship floating in the opposite direction suddenly loomed out of the darkness ahead, as if it were coming to rescue them. The terrified men cheered. To their horror they then saw the name FLARE written on the side. It was of course their own detached bow section, and it passed them by.
There's quite a bit more, for the interested.

HOT STOCKS: Revolutionary Rifle Ball Stock

Wild:

Military.com has a fascinating article today on a new type of rifle stock -- one that would be modular, with a major part of it permanently mounted on your body armor. It would connect to the part remaining on your rifle via a ball-and-socket system. And, it would tie into an "augmented reality" system, serving to connect you and your rifle without the need for a tether cord.

This is the kind of thing I'd really like to try out sometime. It sounds good -- but will it work, or will that extra data become confusing? Only one way to find out.

Daniel

New House:

Daniel has moved his virtual house. He's also welcome to post here, though -- in fact, aren't we due a lecture on tactics, Daniel?

365 and a Wakeup: Return to Namelessville

365:

Has a beautiful post today.

Galley Slaves: Liberal Blog Ascendancy

On Ascendancy:

Galley Slaves cites super-liberal blog MyDD (also cited today by Southern Appeal). The argument is that the liberal blogosphere is outpacing the conservative blogosphere, because right-wing blogs don't allow comments:

Unless right-wing blogs decide to open up and allow their readers to have a greater voice, I expect that the liberal and progressive blogosphere will continue its unbroken twenty-month rise in relative traffic. Conservative bloggers continue to act as though they are simply a supplement to the existing pundit class, without any need to converse with those operating outside of a small social bubble or any need to engage people within the new structure of the public sphere.
I've always thought of Grim's Hall as a "virtual mead hall" for warriors -- not just fighting men, but people with the fighting spirit. The comments have always meant more to me than the posts, and I'm glad to talk to any of you. As I noted, I pass out "keys" to military men sometimes. Perhaps I should be doing more of that. I prefer to do it with folks who've hung around and commented for a while, so we know you and know you'll be a good mead-bench companion. If you think you'd like one, though, email me.

However, my initial reaction to this story is the one that Mr. Last gets around to after a while: as important as blogs are, unless they translate into physical reality at some point, they don't mean much. If you spend two hours a day reading blogs, but you take the information and put it to practical use in the world, it's an extraordinary and powerful tool for you.

On the other hand, if you spend five hours a day reading blogs, commenting, arguing, refining positions, etc., with people who more or less agree with you already, you're wasting a lot of energy and time. It's distracting you from achieving anything in reality. You'd be doing more for your cause if you took a second job, and donated the money to a charity that supports your interests.

So, you know, it's nice to have big blog hits. On the other hand, does it impact the world in which you live -- or does it become the world in which you live? If the latter, it's hurting rather than helping you.

John Wayne - The Early Years Collection | RowdysDVDs.com - Movies, Music and Television on DVD

Iterations:

I rented a copy of "John Wayne - The Early Years Collection" the other day. It consists of a number of movies made from 1934-1936. These were "early" years for John Wayne, but not all that early for movie making: a whole generation of earlier stars and directors had come and gone, whose names we have already almost forgotten.

Wyatt Earp had come to know several after 1901, when he returned to California from the Alaska gold rush. At that time, he was telling them stories and tales of the West that were already not fresh. The shootout at the O.K. Corral had happened in 1881, twenty years earlier. In the interval, Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show had fixed the popular image of the West. Earp helped them make movies that had the right feel.

Tom Mix starred in over 300 such movies, most of them made before sound came to film. Most of his films do not exist any more. By the time John Wayne's early movies were being made, the Western was thirty years old, with well-established forms. These changed little until the 1950s.

What we today think of as "the classic Western" is probably High Noon. But High Noon was almost a complete rejection of all the Western's standard modes. The lawman, who wears a black rather than a white hat, enjoys no support from the people; in the end, though he has done what they dared not, he has lost their respect and has lost respect for them. He leaves the town in disgust, rather than riding into the sunset. John Wayne, by then a veteran star of twenty years' experience, called the movie "un-American."

But Wayne made a similar movie himself ten years afterwards -- The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance. It is in some respects even darker than High Noon. The upstanding Western hero of the film, played by Wayne, is a white-hat wearing cattleman of the classic mold. But when he shoots Liberty Valance, it is from ambush with a rifle; and doing so is the ruin of his life, as he loses his girl, burns his home in drunken misery, and dies in poverty. Meanwhile, a good-hearted lawyer from the East gets the credit, wins elected office, and gets the girl as well.

We today would probably think of these as classic Westerns, because we have even more radical changes to compare with them: the Clint Eastwood Italian westerns, for example, in which the hero is largely amoral. If you were going to say two things about Westerns that made them Westerns, it would be these: 1) The movie is set at least partially in the American West, and 2) it is a film about morality. The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly is a film about morality -- sort of. A Fistful of Dollars isn't even that. The success of these movies inspired a score or more of (mostly lousy) Westerns about amoral or immoral "heroes," including what must be the least probable portrayal ever of Doc Holliday, by Stacy Keach (later to do a pretty good Mike Hammer, though he was limited by the need for his scriptwriters to write for pre-cable television).

Clint Eastwood came around to making Unforgiven, which he designed to say "everything I've always felt about the Western." It turned out to be the best Western in a generation, because it returned the moral structure that underlies the Western. This was not, exactly, what Eastwood intended to do -- if anything, he wanted to show how that moral structure gave itself over to barbarism. Nevertheless, because his characters were interested in morality, aspiring to it or rejecting it, Unforgiven is powerful as no Western had been in a long time.

There have been several more recent Westerns, and they've been good by and large. They've also been a return to roots. In some respects, Open Range is almost a reversal of High Noon: the entire town comes out with rifles, unasked, to defend strangers they really aren't sure about; and in the end, the ability of one of those strangers to do violence for justice is enough to win him a place in their hearts. Where Gary Cooper left in disgust, Kevin Costner found a home and the respect of a people.

Tombstone, of course, returned the Wyatt Earp legend to its traditional form.

Meanwhile, Tom Selleck has made some great Westerns lately. Though his first -- Quigley Down Under -- was unusual for being set in Australia, it was a solid Western. His later ones are a complete return to roots, usually including even the white hat, and being based on long-beloved stories by famous writers. Crossfire Trail, Last Stand at Sabre River, and Monte Walsh, the last one an ode to cowboying.

I think this underlines a great truth about art. The changes in the Western are similar to the changes in the wider art world, except that they started later and ended quicker. It was not until the 1950s that the structure of the Western felt so stale that directors set out to shake it up, in ways that were shocking at the time ("unAmerican"), but now seem like a classic part of the genre. Like visual artists, the makers of Westerns became excited by the idea of playing with the structure, and they did some great things by thinking new thoughts about the old modes.

But then came a generation of artists who knew little about the classics, and had only studied the rejectionists. They did not understand that the power lay in the eternal form -- the great truth that was being explored by the art. The rejectionists had been able to achieve great things because they involved the audience in thinking about that great truth in new ways. The later generation, never knowing what the truth was, never having learned the basics of the art, made spirtually empty garbage.

It was only through a return to the traditional forms that we could escape that, and recover the meaning and power of the art. This is a lesson that the Western seems to have learned quickly -- perhaps because it was lucky to have Eastwood, one of the first rejectionists, still around to remember what the genre had originally been about. Unforgiven did a lot to set the Western back on track.

The remaining arts must learn the same lesson if they are to survive. If poetry and orchestral music, painting and sculpture cannot learn these things, fewer will study them, and fewer will care to hear or see the works of those who do. The Western points the way for them.

It does that for us, too. That's why it survives, after Tom Mix, after John Wayne, after the 'Old Chisholm trail is covered in concrete,' and "cowboy" is considered an insult in lands that once sent them forth.

Speaking of weapon physics, a friend sent me this link: The Box of Truth.

It is entertaining, if nothing else, but like the guy says. "Shooting stuf is fun".

I hadn't ever given the properties of dry-wall much thought.

Knife Review : commentary on knives, sharpening equipment and related products.

More on Knife Physics:

For those interested, it turns out that the Physics department of Newfoundland's Memorial University has a page devoted to knife reviews. I have to say that I'm impressed:

Graduate programmes are offered at the M.Sc. and Ph.D. level in Atomic and Molecular physics, Condensed Matter Physics, and Physical Oceanography. Experimental, theoretical and computational research topics include non-linear dynamics, membrane biophysics, polymer physics, magnetism, strongly correlated electron systems, optical and vibrational spectroscopy, atomic collision, ocean acoustics, and ocean circulation.
And yet they still found time to test fighting knives to see how well they penetrate phone books.

I do love a practical scientist.

eBay item 6539278490 (Ends Jun-15-05 11:51:03 PDT) - Stek Damascus Cowboy Fighting Knife

I Wish I Had $255:

Yeah, I know. I've got a lot of knives. But if I had the "buy it now" price for this in my wallet, I'd snap up this beautiful knife. This guy really knows what he's doing. It's not only top quality pattern-forged steel, it's exactly the optimum length: eight inch blade, four inch backstrap, thirteen and a half inches overall.

Now that's a fighting knife.

Immigration Law as Anti-Terrorism Tool

"Immigration Law as Anti-Terrorism Tool"

Perhaps you saw today's front-page article in the Washington Post:

Whereas terrorism charges can be difficult to prosecute, Homeland Security officials say immigration laws can provide a quick, easy way to detain people who could be planning attacks. Authorities have also used routine charges such as overstaying a visa to deport suspected supporters of terrorist groups.
Once everybody gets finished muttering, "Well, so the Bush administration is finally doing something right," I should point out that this paragraph isn't the lead, though it is the lede. It's actually paragraph number six.

Paragraphs one through five are a sympathetic portrayal of a poor Lebanese fellow who was arrested by a vicious, arrogant, masked Federal agent in a surprise raid on his home. Grim's Hall hates that: police should neither be allowed to wear masks, nor conduct military-style raids. Nevertheless, they do.

Paragraphs eight through ten are given over to "Muslim civil liberties activists" who charge the following: "They argue that authorities are enforcing minor violations by Muslims and Arabs, while ignoring millions of other immigrants who flout the same laws."

Paragraphs eleven through sixteen point out that Muslims were rarely the focus of immigration law before 9/11. Ahem. You don't say. (There is also a note to the effect that certain roundups have been "controversial," and there is a gratuitous description of our intelligence and law-enforcement services as inhabiting a "murky" world.)

There follows then a long series of paragraphs providing another sympathetic portrayal of a poor Muslim immigrant who came under Federal scrutiny for donating to one of bin Laden's charities. She claims she is innocent, and perhaps she is; but the government, heavy-handed thugs that they are, decided after watching a few jetliners slam into our buildings that they wanted to be sure.

Finally, toward the bottom of page three, someone from DHS is actually allowed to respond to the charge: "Are you thugs targeting Muslims?"

In the interest of balance, they are permitted to cite two success stories to go with the two examples proposed by the Post at the beginning. Here we are:
For example, Nuradin Abdi, a Somali immigrant living in Ohio, was locked up on an asylum-fraud charge in November 2003. He was subsequently charged with plotting with an al Qaeda member to blow up a shopping mall. He has pleaded not guilty.

ICE officials also point to cases in which they have deported active supporters of terrorist groups, including at least two men who had attended guerrilla training camps in Pakistan.

That's all that is said about these cases, after two and a half pages of intense beating on DHS for the two cases the Post didn't like.

There are two more pages in the article. The first one is devoted to the government's case, which is presented thus: 'It's hard to charge people with terrorism, but we can easily deport them if they've violated immigration law. National security is "guesswork," so we're doing our best with what we've got; and anyway, we ignored counterterrorism in the 1990s, and look how that worked out!'

The last page, to bring the article to a circle, is devoted to another sympathetic portrayal of a Muslim immigrant.

I am left drawing these conclusions:

1) The Post is opposed to using immigration law to address counterterrorism issues, on the grounds that it might not be completely fair to all parties involved.

2) The Post, while willing to conceed that these national security issues exist, weighs the whole mess of those issues as being somewhat less important than the handful of cases anti-enforcement advocates pointed out to them. The Post dwells on those cases for three and a half pages of the five page article. It gives less than two paragraphs to the cases cited as successes by DHS, plus another paragraph to a third case later on.

3) Neither the Post, nor the anti-enforcement advocates for whom it is carrying water, actually intend this claim to be taken seriously: "They argue that authorities are enforcing minor violations by Muslims and Arabs, while ignoring millions of other immigrants who flout the same laws." This is not a call to enforce immigration law in an evenhanded fashion.

It is a call to stop enforcing immigration law at all.