WK

Mr. Karrde:

I should like to draw your attention to a couple of posts at Mr. Karrde's blog, especially this one on introducing a new shooter to firearms. But there is also this one, on the ancient gathering known as the Council Fire.

At the beginning of May, I found myself camping with my family in the backwoods of Western New York. One of my younger siblings was receiving a college degree. All of the immediate family came to celebrate. So did all of the living grand-parents.

Every night, the men of the family had discussions around the campfire. Three generations were present at the campfire, and the subjects we talked about ranged from trivial to serious. We discussed the future of the new graduate; we discussed good and bad decisions from the past; we mentioned pro and con points about each of our futures. We also discussed the fine art of living with other family members; we talked about personal boundaries, personal space, and the tensions in personal freedom, love, social duty and moral duty. We roasted marshmallows and talked about great marhmallow-roasts from the past; we enjoyed reminiscences of other camping trips; we talked about car-repair projects and house-repair projects. We talked about books read and events we'd seen. We talked about history, war, peace, depressions, and economic booms.

In the Gaelic, this is called a ceilidh, or "gathering." Today a ceilidh is usually a party of one sort or another, but of old it was a gathering of the clan to discuss matters of import, and to celebrate the joy of being together as a family. An old Scottish Clan, after all, was a family: not always of blood relations, but also including accepted friends and 'part takers in the clan's adventures.'

Nothing quite like one, is there?

FR

"Mercenaries," Again:

Bill Roggio asked me to reply to "The Best Army We Can Buy" by Dr. David M. Kennedy. I have done so at length, at The Fourth Rail.

397

SB 397:

The Senate Bill entitled Protection of Lawful Commerce in Arms is up for a vote this week. Opponents, unable to beat it on the merits, wish to enact this or that poison pill amendment, the most worrisome of which to me are bans on semiautomatic weapons. In any event, this would be a good time to contact your congressmen and tell them not to support such amendments, but please to support the bill.

Follow the link for easy ways to do that.

The Good Frenchman

"World's Top Terrorist Hunter"

Did you know there was a "World's Top Terrorist Hunter"?

Did you know he was French?

The world's leading terrorist hunter is on a secret mission in Sydney to investigate Australian links to global terrorism[.]

A secret mission, you see.

Judge Bruguiere, 60, has been at the forefront of the war on terror for 20 years.... Dubbed by the French as Le Cowboy, Judge Bruguiere is best known for tracking down international terrorist Carlos the Jackal in 1994 and foiling an attack during the 1998 soccer World Cup in France. He is keen for other countries to adopt a French-style system, enabling authorities to hold a suspect for up to two years without charge.

The judicial system for restraining terrorists failed utterly to prevent the development of massive networks across Europe and Asia, but it isn't the fault of men like Le Cowboy. It's interesting that the French themselves characterize their best terror-hunter in those terms, is it not?

These French magistrates did the best they could do, under the constraints of the legalistic system. Zacarais Moussaoui, for example, was being hunted by one of them in England, long years before 9/11. The British, however, refused to allow for his extradition -- or even for him to be questioned by the French judges.

It was an honest try, by dedicated men who wanted to keep this a law-and-order matter, who wanted to prevent it from becoming a war. They failed, but we ought to think of them kindly. They did what they could, when the world still believed that terrorists could be restrained by courts and laws, prisons and judges and extradition. It is to no one's benefit that their system failed; the world would have been a better place if they could have made it work.

PAR

Texas Rangers:

This month's "Special edition" of Arabian Horse World contains an article on a movement that I think is wholly exemplary of where we ought to be going with Homeland Security.

The group is called the Pegasus Airport Rangers, and is composed of civilian volunteers. They used to use the land recently occupied by the airport for endurance race training. When the airport chose to annex it, they volunteered to undergo security training and serve as a volunteer organization, providing security for the airport in return for having a place to go on trail rides.

I can say no more about it than that I approve entirely. This is what Homeland Security should look like: upstanding citizens taking the initiative to protect the common peace. That it involves Texans performing their old volunteer "ranging service" is only icing on the cake.

Outstanding.

Fire/iron

Fire & Iron:

Summer is upon us, with all her unmercies. The heat today was nearly a hundred degrees. The heat index, which factors the humidity, was one hundred ten.

The heat in the summer's one hundred and ten
Too hot for the devil, too hot for men.

A man does what he can. Last week I cleared out a patch of pokeweed that was flowering, because the boy might have decided that its poison berries were edible like the blackberries and raspberries he already knows. I took a pair of machetes, one in each hand, and went to work until the whole field was laid down. This is a good exercise for those of you interested in bladework, who might wish to learn to fight with two hands. The exercise of cutting needs that your limbs be hard, and your grip both strong and wise enough to keep the blade aligned with the work. This is a four-stroke exercise: Two right (to your inside, and then to your outside), two left (in-out). Cutting out last keeps your off-arm out of the way of the incoming cut.

The next day I mowed over the field, to make sure it was unable to regrow; and then, with some old concrete blocks I found in the clearing, I built a fire lay. I have a cast iron five-quart dutch oven, as well as a few iron skillets that I inherited from my grandmother. These allow me to cook outside in the summer. The heat of supper-making is thereby kept outside of the house, and the food you eat has the flavor of hardwood smoke. Tonight we are having pork chops and beans.

If you didn't happen to inherit such things, they can still be bought from the Lodge Manufacturing Company, in business since 1896. Having a cast iron oven is as good as having a stove outside, which is just the thing for the burning of summer. With a bit of care you can make the whole meal inside or atop one: turn the self-basting lid over, and you can roast biscuits atop it while your meal bakes inside. If you have two, mix that biscuit dough with a can of pie apples, and roast that on the lid or inside. Fry bacon while you roast steaks. Add some onions and jalepenos. I saw a recipie recently for pork or cheap beef cooked in a jar of grape jelly, mixed with chile sauce. Sounds good to me, though I haven't tried it.

Cooking over fire is trickier than using an electric range, but you'll get the hang of it quickly enough. It's a tie to your ancestors, as it is to mine. And it will keep your house cooler to boot.

LibCon

The Liberal Conspiracy:

Our old friend Sovay has returned to blogging after several months' absence. Her first post in a long time deals with an interview with Atta's father. Her sarcasm toward Juan Cole (whom she calls "highly esteemed") is a welcome and noteworthy departure. I assume, at least, that it is sarcasm. Surely there is no one left, following Juan Cole's call for "oppo research" on bloggers who disagree with him, who actually holds the fellow in any esteem. I find it hard to say so, given my respect for scholars; but there we are.

Nevertheless, she does a good service by pointing us to the interview. Her own interpretation is far wiser than Cole's, recognizing as it does the tectonic power of a father's love. Welcome back, girl.

Moving Violations

Moving Violations:

You will notice that I rarely post about 'outrages of the day,' although such things make up a lot of the traffic that drives both the Left and Right blogospheres. Still, my attitude about them has always been similar to that of a Zen practitioner to the chime of a bell: I stop for a moment, take notice of it, and then pass on.

The bell rings, and fades at once. The chime is gone forever, drifting away on the waves of time. Once you are past the moment in which it happened, it is of no matter. It is gone. You and it have moved apart. There are new things to notice, and there are ongoing threads that deserve your continued attention. For the Zen practitioner, the main thread is breath: in, out. There are others for me: war, virtue, mercy, a child, a wife, a friend. There is so little time to spend on these 'scandals' that arise, and perish. I have so little energy for them, with these other things to see and think about.

That said, I have to take a moment to notice this story, courtesy of Cassandra, BlackFive, Mudville and others. I quote from Cassandra's version

The family of a Marine who was killed in Iraq is furious with Lt. Gov. Catherine Baker Knoll for showing up uninvited at his funeral this week, handing out her business card and then saying "our government" is against the war.

The Lieutenant Governor found the celebration of Holy Eucharist a good time to hand out her business card and score political points on the Bush administration. Staff Sgt. Joseph Goodrich was in no position to rebut any of her talking points, being unfortunately incapable of dialogue at the time.

Having noticed it, I find I cannot think of a single thing to say. Honestly, words fail me.

The Single Book

Cave Ab Homine Unius Libri

And here is mine. Not the Bible nor the Havamal, nor the Koran nor the Lord of the Rings. If you asked me for one book that told you everything you needed to know about life, I'd pick that one -- The Ballad of the White Horse.

Opposed

Count Me Opposed:

...to anything that the D.C. government is in favor of, but especially this business of putting cameras everywhere.

The government should not be spying on our every move. It especially should not be doing so when these cameras have a nearly zero-percent chance of actually stopping crime -- terrorism or otherwise. Catching the criminals after the fact? Maybe. Fat lot of good that will do with suicide bombers.

Let's spend our resources a little more wisely. You want surveillence in the neighborhoods? Tell the people what to look for, and listen when one of us calls for help on 911. If we feel strongly enough about it to make a citizen's arrest, back us up instead of viewing us as the enemy. We're everywhere already, and we work for free.

We neither need nor want Big Brother to watch us, in order to keep us safe. It would help a lot, though, if the government remembered that we the People are the source of its legitimacy, and its principle ally. If it wants our support, it needs only ask. These attempts to control and monitor us are not welcome, and they are not necessary.

Henry

A New Rifle:

As some of you (well, probably only the hardcore gunfighters) will know, Smith & Wesson this year announced an end to the production run of the Model 19 (blue) / 66 (stainless) "Combat Magnums." This is one of the more famous handguns in American history, a six-shooting .357 Magnum revolver based on Smith & Wesson's lightweight "K" frame. The standard frames run up to N, which is their heavy frame for the .44 Remington Magnums and such. Their new showpiece, the 500, is on what they call an "X Frame."

The 19/66 was designed in cooperation with a Border Patrol officer named Bill Jordan, who was also a renowed gunfighter. He wanted a K-frame .357 Magnum because it would be light to carry, and have the stopping power of a magnum round. And so for fifty years the Combat Magnum type revolvers have been a staple of law enforcement and field carry.

Unfortunately, it turns out that the light frame isn't really up to the pressures of the .357 Magnum. Oddly, this was only discovered recently -- almost everyone who bought one was using .38 Special ammunition, which produces much lower pressures, for their target shooting. It's only when the .357 Mag is run through it constantly that it will stress and break the receiver.

Well, to make a long story short, S&W discontinued the model as of this production year, and I decided to get rid of mine. I took it down to a local place today and traded it in, along with my shoulder rig, speedloaders, etc. All together, it was enough of a trade that I could get something nice.

I already have a perfectly good "replacement" for the 66, which I have actually owned longer and like better anyway -- the 629-4, a .44 on the N-frame. So, I didn't need another double-action revolver.

Instead, I decided to do something I've been needing to do for a long time. I got a .22 rifle.

The .22 rifle is a wonderful thing because it enables you to shoot a lot, really improving your skills. My riflemanship has tarnished badly over the years -- I hadn't fired a rifle at all for almost a decade, I have to admit, having hunted with shotguns and carried handguns for defensive purposes. But there are real advantages to being a rifleman, and so about a year ago I picked up a Winchester 94 in .30-30 and began to practice with it. In the last year, I've probably fired two hundred rounds out of it.

With a .22 rifle, though, you could fire five thousand rounds for the same investment. That means a lot more practice, a lot more fun afternoons at the range, and a lot better riflemanship. So, since I had the chance to get something good, I got myself a good .22 rifle.

To be specific, I got this one, the Henry Golden Boy in .22 Long Rifle. This was Guns & Ammo's "Rifle of the Year" in 2001, and I now know why. What a beautiful piece, with an action as smooth as silk.

I fired fifty rounds today -- compared to two hundred all year with the .30-30 -- and bought several hundred more. I figure I'll carry them in my truck, and just stop by the range whenever I go out that way. With any luck, and a few months' dedicated practice, I won't have to be ashamed to post pictures of my rifle targets anymore. :)

Comments

Comments on Today's News:

On the British Police shooting dead a suspected bomber -- Good job, too. One can get pretty much the same amount of instant, functional intel from an autopsy and a raid on a dead bomber's home as from a living, but deeply uncooperative suspect who won't give you his name or anything else.

You can get a lot more of use out of that autopsy and raid than you can from a bomber who escaped into the crowd, or who blew the crowd apart. Plus, he doesn't blow the crowd apart; and he doesn't escape to do more mayhem; and you don't have to worry about him being set free by some politician attempting to bargain with the terrorists, as all those IRA bombers were by that same British government.

Of course, if he was innocent, you killed an innocent man. This is a great moral risk, but be honest with yourself: would you rather live with the pain of having shot dead an innocent man, or the pain of having not shot dead a man who proceeded to blast apart a busload of school children? Giving that you're gambling on the two options, your choice is surely clear.

On Bob Byrd -- The Honorable Byrd has a way with words, doesn't he? "One's life is probably in no greater danger in the jungles of deepest Africa than in the jungles of America's large cities... In my judgment, much of the problem has been brought about by the mollycoddling of criminals by some of the liberal judges who have been placed on the nation's courts in recent years."

Well, OK. But the question ought not to be, 'is one's life in greater danger in an American city or an African jungle?' It ought to be, 'is one's life in greater danger in an American city or an African city?' Africa's most orderly cities compare unfavorably even to America's least orderly ones -- those few remaining outposts, like the District of Columbia, which deny the right to keep and bear arms.

And if you want to compare African jungles to the American wilderness, well, let's not even bother. Africa remains both the original human homeland, and the most perilous place on earth. This explains a lot about humans.

On New York City's bag-searches -- Terrorism is very destructive to liberty. But it doesn't have to be. I remain convinced that, before this is over, the war is going to lead to the end of the American city -- not through the detonation of WMD, but through making the places even more totally unlivable.

The economic justification for the city fades every year with the increase in telecommunications and other infrastructure. Combine that with 'just in time' transit systems, and there's no reason to have a city except for deep-water ports. Even these will mainly be necessary as distribution points for the broader society, and collection points for what remains of our manufacture-for-export industry. The manufacturer itself can easily erect a very small "company town" in one of the emptier parts of the country, using an airport or interstate to send its goods where they need to be sent. As is already the case in Savannah, there is no reason for the port city to be occupied with any major industry except the port itself. Thus, even in this case you can have a small city in terms of population performing what remains of the urban economic function.

The need to distribute goods somewhat more widely will result in a heavier use of oil prodcuts; but the increase in telecommuting will vastly decrease our current levels of consumption. My sense is that something like most of our gasoline goes into private cars driving you from home to your place of business. When a sizable part of the culture just stays home to work, that's a lot of gasoline that doesn't get used.

Why, then, should we put up with these violations of the Fourth Amendment, such as we see in NYC today? One can argue that they're necessary on mass transit systems; so why have that many people in one place? The effect of this distribution of the population is the defense of the individual and family from both terrorist and major-power (say, Chinese) threats, and not coincidentally the defense of our economic power base. Thus, it makes sense from both a personal and societal standpoint.

Move to the country. Telecommute. You'll be glad you did, and so will Uncle Sam.

Beer

Beer:

I learned reading The Independent today that Corona has failed in its attempt to do something really dumb:

Eurocermex, European distributors of the market-leading Mexican Corona, has lost in its bid to trademark a physical object: a clear bottle containing yellow liquid (no sniggering please) with a wedge of lime in the bottleneck. This has long been the cool way of serving Corona, possibly because the lime gives flavour to what would otherwise lack it almost entirely, and...

Apparently, they applied to the EU to make it a legal violation to serve another beer in this fashion. Exactly why it would should be illegal for a bar to serve a beer to a customer in the fashion the customer ordered was not clear enough even for the EU, which surely must be the easiest of all audiences for this sort of claim.

Beer, like wives and sunshine, is one of the great parts of life, something we appreciate and yet don't think about that much. (Also like wives and sunshine, beer is a wonderful thing of which one can nevertheless have too much; though indeed, to round out the similie, in spite of that one will always eventually be wanting more of them again.)

In this very early Grim's Hall post, I quoted a well-remembered passage from an old Robin Hood story, in which the famous outlaws have a picnic involving bread and cheese and a skin of good March beer. That seems like a good way to spend a summer day, and as the weekend is upon us, I will recommend it to you. You probably can't get a good October or March beer at this time of year, but there are several that will do. I find that Red Stripe goes well with the heat, being a little sweeter than usual (Jamaica's other famous beer, Dragon Stout, is likewise far sweeter than stouts normally).

The times grow darker, we see in the news. Well, they were dark in Robin Hood's day as well. Like Robin Hood take your blade and whatever you prefer instead of a longbow, but have your picnic all the same. Down with Prince John, and al Qaeda, and all the rest of the lot of tyrants.

UPDATE: On rereading this note, which I dashed off quickly and without much consideration, I see that I wrote "Beer, like wives and sunshine, is one of the great parts of life, something we appreciate and yet don't think about that much." On reflection, I recognize that this may seem like a shocking or callous statement to some of my younger readers. I should like to say something in that regard.

Young love is a different thing than love when it matures. When you first fall in love, and especially when it is true love, your beloved occupies all of your thoughts.

Once you have been together for a while, however, the challenges of surviving in a hard world will eventually pull your focus away from one another. The challenges and difficulties of life can be demanding -- and none more so than childrearing, which can occupy every last moment that used to be "free."

In that place, the things you value most are the things you don't have to think about. The things you can rely upon, and to which you know you can trust your weight, are the things that count most of all. There is nothing to love better than the thing you can trust, and trust so much that you never have to think about the question.

So it is that the best of good wives may find herself in this category. A bad wife never will -- a man has to worry about one such as that all the time. Those of you who are young women aspiring to a successful marriage might give a thought to becoming that kind of wife.

It may not seem like much, compared to the castles in the air that arise in some of the love songs. It may seem, at first glance, to fade by comparison to the passions and furies of young love. Still, when people are making a life for each other -- and trying to build a life for their children -- there is a lot to be said for it. If you have to think about each other all the time, you will run right up on the rocks. If you need not spend your focus on that, however, you can not only take time to steer -- you can do so knowing that the rest of the ship is being kept in order by a faithful companion and partner.

"Beer and sunshine" isn't bad company to be in, when the play of childhood is behind you, and the labors of the world are your daily bread. In truth, there's little better company to be had in this mortal world.

Scotty

Scotty:

I haven't seen an episode of Star Trek in many years, but it used to run as late-night TV back when I was young enough to still watch late-night TV (i.e., before I had a job and a child, leaving me in the same camp as The Geek when it comes to "lost sleep"). So, after the umpteenth blog pointed to the obit for James Doohan, I finally gave in and went to take a look.

Did you?

At 19, James escaped the turmoil at home by joining the Canadian army, becoming a lieutenant in artillery. He was among the Canadian forces that landed on Juno Beach on D-Day. "The sea was rough," he recalled. "We were more afraid of drowning than the Germans."

The Canadians crossed a minefield laid for tanks; the soldiers weren't heavy enough to detonate the bombs. At 11:30 that night, he was machine-gunned, taking six hits: one that took off his middle right finger (he managed to hide the missing finger on screen), four in his leg and one in the chest. The chest bullet was stopped by his silver cigarette case.

Rest in peace. Sir.

fnames

Foreign Names:

An aside inspired by "the Sheik Marine's" comments below. It happens that I also have a foreign name: a Chinese name, in fact. It was bestowed upon me by a farmer near Hangzhou from whom I often bought vegetables. Native speakers of Chinese have a lot of trouble with my English name, which contains a consonant formation (Br-) that is not found in Chinese. So, for ease of use, I adopted it and used it on all my documents in China.

The name was 大 鬍 鬚, which is written in pinyin Da Huxu and pronounced "DAH Hoo-shoo."

It translates into English as "Big Beard," which was quite right: at the time, distrusting (for very good reason) the quality of the local water, I drank only beer and disavowed shaving. As a consequence, I ended up with a fine forked beard that would have been the pride of a Viking warrior.

The name is interesting in two ways. The first is that, in Chinese, the family name is written first. Thus, on all my official Chinese documents, I'm identified as "Mr. Big."

The other thing that is interesting is that "HuXu" means "beard" only by historic accident. It began as the name of a tribe of barbarians in Western China, who wore beards. Most Han Chinese men -- "Han" being an ethnic grouping that includes better than ninety percent of China's subjects -- can't grow beards until they get quite old. As a result, the beard itself became identified with these wild barbarian tribes of the west.

As a consequence, the real translation of my Chinese name is, "Big Western Barbarian." I couldn't have made a better or more honest choice.

Sheikh Marine

The Sheik Marine:

Captain Leggett of Southern Appeal has posted some photographs of himself, attired in a tribal headdress that was given to him by grateful Iraqis at a wedding he attended. He says:

I should note that as soon as My Iraqi hosts saw me in the headdress they immediately began calling me "Sheik Marine," a title I was greeted with by almost every member of the tribe every time I was in the area. Unfortunately, the Marine Corps has not yet seen fit to recognize the authority of my tribal title.

They really ought to recognize it. Lawrence of Arabia proved what could be accomplished by working with the tribal structure, and showing respect for and a willingness to participate in their native conceptions of honor. Well done, Joel. Well done.

UPDATE: In the comments, Joel reveals two more important details:

Y’all might find this humorous. Not only was I made a member of their tribe (Al Ghezzi) I was also given an Arabic name, Kazem Al Ghezzi.

Humorous, no. Impressive, yes.

On another piece of his attire:

My father gave that knife to me when I was enlisted. It is a Randall model 14, in my humble opinion the finest fighting knife made.

You are not alone in your opinion -- many knife enthusiasts love the Randall made knives. My own favorite is the Model 12 "Bear Bowie" design. Yet, as we were discussing on another occasion, the best knife for one fighter is not the best knife for another -- there is a lot of variation that comes from arm length, grip strength, height, and the like. The Model 14 is a very respectable choice.

Excalibur

"The War of Spells"

My favorite article so far to arise from the disruptions in the Philippines is this one. It describes the events in terms of "a dagger in the heart," magic, a divided Church, the "war of spells" that shattered King Arthur's realm, and finishes with an allusion to the sword Excalibur.

It seems almost improper to mention that the 'Sword in the Stone' and Excalibur were two different swords. Nevertheless, they were: the first sword was a gift of God, as the legend has it, to name the rightful king; Excalibur was kept by the Lady of the Lake. Both types of swords have precedents and resonances in other legends -- for the Sword in the Stone, see for example the Sword of the Volsungs (which resonates also, and intentionally, with Aragorn's sword Anduril, or Narsil); for Excalibur, any number of legends about fairy blades kept by water spirits. This last is a perfectly reasonable legend, for many Celtic and Germanic cultures cast swords and other treasures into sacred lakes and rivers as sacrifices. The water maids who keep such sacred blades are a natural point of origin for our Lady who dwelt by, or in, or under, 'the Lake.'

All that said, it is a hopeful sign for the Philippines that they have these legends to draw upon, still so close to mind as to leap into a simple piece of political analysis. A commonly understood legend, underlying your view of the world and present in all or most minds, has been the foundation of many a society in hard times. In politics, if most of you can imagine the problem alike, you can probably imagine a solution. Not so in physics; but this is a political problem.

Dining

Fine Dining:

Via Arts & Letters Daily, I see that the UK Guardian has put together a list of the world's fifty best restaurants. Improbably, to say the least that might be said, fourteen of them are in England, including the world's best: The Fat Duck.

The list has earned some unreasonably bitter commentary from our German friends:

So again: Congratulations to our English friends! What they were unable to achieve in soccer, they've made up for in the kitchen. And this counterbalances the bankruptcy of their last automobile company. And the state of the London underground.

You can read the list for yourself. I'm dismayed to say that, not only have I never eaten in a single one of these restaurants, I've never lived close to a single one of these cities. In point of fact, I've only even visited one of them -- New York -- and have no plans to plan never to return. Since I didn't eat at any of these places on that occasion, I shall probably miss them entirely. Were I to die tomorrow, I should have missed out on the world's best food -- or rather, its best restaurant food, since both my grandfather's bacon and my grandmother's biscuits were not for sale.

Still, I do like good food, and so I would like to solicit from you, dear reader, two lists of your own. The first list is the finest restaurants you've patronized, and where they can be found -- as well as a bit about them, if you like. The second is your favorites, which needn't be "fine" cuisine at all. For myself, I've dined in a few fine establishments, but my very favorite place to eat is a hole in the wall Mexican joint in Chamblee, Georgia (which town is called by the locals "Chambodia" in honor of the many Vietnamese and Cambodian immigrants displaced by a certain regional conflict of the 1950s-70s).

In any event, here are my two lists. Unlike the Guardian, these are not in order of excellence, just "as they come to me."

Fine dining:

1) The Abbey, Atlanta, Georgia -- it self-consciously describes itself as "French Continental," but what I had were the lamb chops, which you could have gotten in one of those fine English restaurants (I imagine). It is notable for being located in an old church of magnificient decor, which is every bit as enjoyable as the food. And the food was very good indeed. I took my wife there once on our anniversary, and if any of you have the notion, it's worth a trip.

2) The Southern Inn Restaurant, Lexington, Virginia -- Lexington is called "the shrine of the South," being home to Stonewall Jackson's house and the tomb of Robert E. Lee and his faithful horse Traveller. It's home to the Virginia Military Institute, which with the Citadel in Charleston carries on the tradition of Southern military life. The Southern Inn is a fine place to eat downtown, with twists of mint soaking in the ready pitchers of icewater to refresh the throat. I suggest it heartily if you're ever in the area, which you may be -- there's a major interstate that runs right through Lexington.

3) Pizza Hut, Shanghai, China -- No, I'm not kidding. Pizza Hut is a luxury restaurant in China. The Shanghai location (there may be more than one) serves a clam chowder pie, as well as special salads, in addition to pepperoni pizza. Reservations are a wise idea, as they are a very popular restaurant with the upper class.

4) Sunday Restaurant, Hangzhou, China -- We ate there the day we bought the train tickets out of Hangzhou, en route to the airport at PuDong to carry us back to the good old United States. That was about six months after we'd arrived, most of it over a winter in which we were provided with no heat sources. We were in a celebratory mood on the occasion, and so went with a couple of Australians to eat everything we could find. It was a mighty feast, and one I remember kindly.

5) Asia Nora's, Washington, D.C. -- Not only good food, but fine Scotch, if you're so inclined. I don't actually like Asian food that much, to be honest (you might have guessed from my listing "Pizza Hut" as the finest restaurant in China) but I can't doubt the quality of what's on offer here. (An aside -- at a cafeteria once in China I was dining with one of my colleagues, a nice lady who was a Chinese national. She asked me what I thought of the food. "It's offal," I replied, having just identified the meat as stomach. "Awful!" she cried. "I thought it was good!")

6) Biddy Mulligan's, Washington, D.C. -- Too expensive to be considered a "favorite," but the food is of a high enough quality that I go there on occasion. The Irish mixed grill is the best thing on the board. I had it on my last birthday, courtesy of Sovay.

UPDATE: 7) Bilbo Baggins', Alexandria, Virginia. -- I had forgotten about it, but it's a very nice place down on the waterfront. The food is good, and the beer list is astonishing. Everyone's favorite hobbit would have approved.

Favorites:

1) El Taco Veloz, Chamblee, GA. -- Not much to be said about this place except that non-Spanish speakers would be advised to remember that "lengua" means "tongue." Don't miss the salsa verde or the chiles rellenos. Oddly enough, this restaurant is part of a chain, but all the others have a different name: Taco Prisa, which also means "Speedy Taco."

2) Kevin Barry's Irish Pub, Savannah, Georgia -- The best Irish Pub I've ever attended, and I attended it often in my Savannah days. MilBloggers will want to visit the Hall of Heroes (and cigar bar) on the second floor, which honors the US military; Irish sympathizers will want to visit Liberty Hall, which honors especially Kevin Barry but also all IRA veterans. This is not a pose; the owner is quite serious about it, and is a collector of historic weapons associated with Irish republicanism, including antique pikes from the 1798 rising. Yes, yes, I know, but check the calendar on their website, and go on a night that Harry is playing. You'll understand.

3) The Mellow Mushroom, throughout Georgia and points north (but not far enough north). -- The best pizza in Georgia, although a close second is Vinnie Van Go-Go's in Savannah. The Mushroom is better, though.

4) The Reggae Cafe (also, The Reggae Bar and The Reggae Pub), Hangzhou, China -- expensive enough to be "fine dining" by Chinese standards, but cheap enough for a Westerner to eat there often. The Szechuan pizza is great, and the reggae burger -- which is actually a sausage patty, served with a fried egg over hard on something resembling a bun -- is surprisingly good. For a year after I came back from China, I put a fried egg on my hamburgers. (I see from this list that it still exists, and not only that, but there is now an Irish pub in Hangzhou with Guinness on tap. If that had been there when I was there, I might have stayed another year or two, if we could have gotten the wife over that double pneumonia).

5) The Griffin Tavern, Flint Hill, Virginia. The pizza is the best pizza I've had since I left Georgia, no question. They have things as cheap as burgers, or as expensive and fancy as you like. It's the only restaurant around, so if you're off in this section of the woods, the Griffin is all there is -- but you couldn't do better in a major city, I'll take an oath on it. This is my favorite restaurant in Virginia, but it's a long trek from anywhere you're likely to be. Still...

6) Molly's Irish Pub, Warrenton, Virginia -- Hm, it may be that I'm detecting a theme in my recommendations. Have the Shepherd's Pie. Beowulf likes the ice cream.

7) The Childe Harold Pub, Washington, D.C. -- The Childe Harold restaurant is a fine dining place, to be avoided if you'll have my recommendation. The Childe Harold Pub is in the basement, and is an entirely different sort of place. Grab a table in the back of the Pub and have a Guard's Burger, or belly up to the bar at happy hour. If you like pasta, they have a kind of chicken pasta that Sovay always orders. It's very good, I can attest, having eaten more of the stuff than she has herself -- she eats like a bird, the girl. The Childe Harold takes its name from a poem by Lord Byron about a knight on pilgrimage.

Well, there you go. What have you got?

UPDATE: A couple more favorites from Atlanta, which I remembered later:

8) Savage Pizza, Atlanta, Georgia. -- A comic-book themed restaurant, but what great pizza.

9) La Fonda Latina, Atlanta, GA. -- The quesadillas are excellent, as is the fresh salsa. They make good sangria, too, as I recall.

Pape

4th Rail Post:

I have a post up at the Fourth Rail on Dr. Pape's work.

OPSEC

OPSEC

Secrecy News has a link to another recently available government document, which comes from the Interagency OPSEC support staff. The Federation of American Scientists, which underwrites SN, has published a copy of it on their website.

The piece is the Intelligence Threat Handbook.

The notion is to provide a basic awareness of intelligence techniques used against America by major powers, especially Russia and China. The piece intends to help government agencies recognize and avoid what may be intelligence gathering missions by foreign powers.

I pass the link on to you because some of you work in sensitive areas (not only in the government!) and will benefit, and others of you will just be interested in this insight into Chinese intelligence. Have a look.