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| Friday, August 7th, 2009 | | 5:32 am |
Nuts and bolts...
Everyone who knows me knows that I'm a gun-nut. Part of that entails loving to take things apart and learn how they work. As an example, my M1Garand was made in September 1941. It's got an early pattern rear sight and was rebarreled in the spring of '51. It most likely saw action in both world war twice and Korea. But the really interesting thing is that the action spring is also the magazine spring. With any gas-operated gun, a small hole drilled in the barrel siphons off a portion of the propellant gasses (burning gunpowder) to extract and eject, and then chamber a fresh round, ready to fire again. Once the action has been opened to extract and eject, a spring is required to chamber a new round and close the action. And herein lies the genius of John Cantius Garand. As the action cycles to the rear during the extract/ eject portion of the loading cycle, the same spring that drives the action forward is also attached by a linkage to the magazine follower (the part that pushes the rounds up to be chambered). That means, while the action is at the rear limit of its travel, the spring is at its most compressed, and thus, exerting the most force on the rounds remaining in the magazine, thus ensuring reliable feeding during adverse conditions. The whole setup is so elegantly simple I could applaud. Many of you probably didn't follow me all the way through that. If you want a hands on explanation, you know who to ask. | | Wednesday, July 22nd, 2009 | | 2:25 am |
Yes, I'm a cammo covered teddy bear....
I know, I know, this seems to be fairly incongruous, considering my occupation. But the fact is, little kids tend to like me. I can't really explain this apparently mystifying phenomenon, except to say that my cartoonish demeanor and propensity towards absurd mannerisms may partially override their natural distrust of strangers. The thing in particular that caused this realization came a few weeks ago, when I crashed at the home of an old friend. I had to go on a business trip the next day, and his house is quite convenient to the airport. His baby girl, just 16 months old, seemed enthralled with my antics. Later in the evening, she tended to squall when picked up by her mom and dad. But when I scooped her up, and put her to my shoulder, she was out like a light in 90 seconds flat. " How did you do that," they asked me. They said it as if I had performed some magic trick. With real magic. "Do what?," I ask, confused. "She never goes to sleep like that." Apparently she usually fusses for an hour or so before she goes to bed. Even when I laid her down on the couch, she murmured, farted, and went silent. My buddy's wife shook her head in confusion. Seems I'm a walking tranq-dart for infants. | | Sunday, June 28th, 2009 | | 3:11 am |
I'm glad I was never in the military.....
Because the desert sucks ass. First of all, its hot. And I'm talking Africa-hot. You're probably thinking to yourself, "of course its hot, its a fucking desert". That's what I thought: before I cooked canned meals just by laying them in the sand for an hour or less. Special attention to the "or less". If you grabbed a gun that was in the sun for as little as 20 minutes, you risked second degree burns. Second, it's dry. Knowing that I'm sounding like a broken record, you're probably thinking, "of course its dry, its a fucking desert". Yeah, its dry. So dry, in fact, that you can dehydrate just sitting on your ass in the shade (when you can find shade). One day in the desert, I drank 3 gallons (about 21 pounds) of water and only had to piss once all day. Third, the life-forms are hostile. The plants have sharp, pointy parts. Worse, they usually have microscopic barbs, so if you try to pull out the sharp, pointy parts, they take flesh with them. The animals also have sharp, pointy parts, though these usually have some kind of poison as well. Fourth, everything is in the ass-end of nowhere. You have to drive for close to an hour before you get to anything that doesn't suck. Fifth, crime is rampant. You have police choppers zooming all over, at under 300ft, at all hours of day and night. Shining bright-ass spotlights. Plus you have ground units with sirens and whatnot. Not to say that the cops don't have a job to do, because they do. Just that they could do it a bit more quietly. Or the goddamn criminals could just go straight, and make everybody's life easier. Long story short, did my time in the desert suck? Yes, it did. Would I go back for seconds? You bet your sweet ass I would. | | Sunday, April 26th, 2009 | | 3:57 am |
Fucking horror show....
So my house hunt continues. It hasn't exactly been going swimmingly. My bank pre-approved me for $290k, though I have enough sense to know that I can't afford anything near that much. Not just because I don't have the $58 grand for the down payment either. So, I've been hunting in the $200k range. By my figuring, my total payment would be only at most, about $250 more than I'm currently paying in rent. It may be that I'm low-balling it, but I tend to be a planner by nature, and a conservative one at that. These properties I'm looking at in that price range, however, are, at best, disappointing. Those few properties I've looked at that meet my criteria, tend to be quite small, and rather short on land. Those that are larger, and /or have a decent plot, well, let me just say that my first instinct in some cases was, "burn this fucker down to the foundation, and start over." Harsh? Certainly. Out of line? I don't think so. Upon more detailed talks with mortgage agents, it appears that I might be able to bump up my prospective price range, to possibly as much as $225-235k range. Once again, I'm hesitant to risk over-extending myself. I'm not adverse to buying a place that needs *some* work. But I don't have the time, and I can't tap too heavily into my friends and family who are subject matter experts, to refurbish a house that requires major projects to be livable. So I guess I'll just have to keep researching and planning. | | Sunday, April 12th, 2009 | | 11:31 am |
Previously, on 23.......
So I got off work at 7 this morning. I have to leave on a business trip at 6 tomorrow morning. That means I have 23 hours. Oh wait, no, it took me a half hour to get home from work. That means I have 22.5 hours. Now, you have to be at the gate no less than 30 minutes before your flight (federal law), and it takes at least 45 minutes to get to the airport in the first place. Figure another 15 minutes to get from parking to the terminal and 30 minutes for check-in and security. Ok, so i have 20.5 hours. Seeing as its the day after Easter, factor in an hour for "in-case-shit", and yet another hour for triple S routine (Shower, Shave, and, well, you know...). Alright, alright, 18.5 hours. It is now about 20 to noon. That means I've already spent over 4 hours doing laundry, organizing, and packing stuff. Soooooo, now I'm down to 14.5 hours. Oh, and I should probably sleep at least 8 hours, (seeing as I've been up since 4pm yesterday)..... Which knocks me down to 6.5 hours (or less, depending on sleep needs and increasing the "in-case-shit" buffer-zone"). 390 Minutes. I know it's just TV, but how the fuck does Jack Bauer do it? Suspension of disbelief fail! | | Tuesday, March 31st, 2009 | | 1:38 am |
NOT ON MY FUCKING WATCH!!!
Congress, unfortunately, is, collectively speaking, rather like a small child. You've to keep your eye on them, or the next thing you know, they're drawing on the wall with crayons. HR 40 is the biggest goddamn crayon I've seen in a while. Quoting here; "To acknowledge the fundamental injustice, cruelty, brutality, and inhumanity of slavery in the United States and the 13 American colonies between 1619 and 1865 and to establish a commission to examine the institution of slavery, subsequently de jure and de facto racial and economic discrimination against African-Americans, and the impact of these forces on living African-Americans, to make recommendations to the Congress on appropriate remedies, and for other purposes." That is so fucked up, I honestly don't know where to begin. Maybe the fact that my family didn't even get to this country until the early 20th century, 50 years after slavery was outlawed. Why should I be held responsible for something someone's long dead great-great-grandfather did to someone else's long dead great-great-grandfather? More importantly, why should my tax dollars go someone whose great-great-grandfather was enslaved? How does four or more generations of separation from slavery justify a check from Uncle Sam? What specific injustice has he suffered? Also, according to this bill, all descendants of slavery may get a check. According to this bill, 4 million slaves were brought to this country. Their descendants now number at least ten times this number. If you give each of them just $10 that's $400 million. And last, but not least, when my forebears came to this country, they faced signs saying "Irish need not apply". Fact of the matter is, everybody who has come to this country has been crapped on, my people included. Do you see any of them standing there, with their hands out? No, you don't. | | Saturday, March 7th, 2009 | | 2:12 am |
| | Friday, March 6th, 2009 | | 4:42 am |
Of all the Denny's, in all the world,
She had to walk into mine. Those of you who know me may (or may not) have noticed that in restaurants and like that, I tend to seat myself so I can see the entrance. I can be fairly OCD about it. So there I was in Denny's, in Warwick, having eggs, sausage, bacon and home fries (at 2245) when she walked in. I couldn't see her face at first, but as she walked away from me to a booth, I found something familiar in the way she walked, the way she carried herself. I thought to myself, nah, that can't be her, can it? The answer came to me when she joined her friends at the booth and laughed at a joke, then sat facing my way, and I could see her face. My ex, from like 8 or 9 years ago. Damn, but that brought back some memories. Good ones, by and large. It sure takes me back. She looked right at me, but either didn't recognize me, or chose not to, so I opted not to go up and say, "Hi! Whats the haps?" Then the thought occurred to me that, I haven't seen this girl in almost a decade, and I recognize her just by the way she walks. Weird. So I finished my breakfast/ dinner, squared up, and shuffled on down the line, thinking, its a small world, after all. | | Thursday, February 26th, 2009 | | 11:17 pm |
The idle mind is the devil's workshop....
And unfortunately, I have a lot of mental downtime at work. I get bored, and when I can't read or watch a movie or something, my brain starts running like a hamster in a cage. Chess is a very intellectually stimulating game. It is only played in two dimensions. My job entails four dimensions, and can be infinitely more stimulating. For example; I designed in my head a new type of molotov cocktail. The "Molotov" is, in its basest form, a frangible container, a flammable and often colloidal payload, and an ignition source. The problem is, its not terribly flexible from a tactical standpoint. The typical molotov uses a rag soaked in the flammable payload as the ignition source. This poses a number of problems. First, it must be ignited manually. This can be difficult in certain environmental conditions, such as wind, rain, etc. Also, you must carry a lighter, matches, etc, which also are susceptible to these same environmental conditions. Second, since the whole thing is basically like that alcohol burner you used in high school science class, if you light it too soon, you can potentially burn off a significant portion of the payload prior to deployment. This renders the device significantly less effective the longer it burns. Third, payloads are typically comprised of some combination of petroleum distillates, based on availability and fuel BTU rating. Regardless of the fact that carrying around something that is on fire tends to draw attention (and drawing attention, draws fire), petroleum distillates are complex hydrocarbons, which produce thick black smoke when burned. Which, likewise, draws attention (see above). Obviously I'm not the first person to realize the shortfalls of the basic design. My research revealed that during WW2, the allies produced some fairly sophisticated molotovs. The US Army, for example, produced one designated "Grenade, Incendiary, Frangible". It was a sealed glass bottle, like a bottle of soda or beer. Inside, it used white phosphorus as an ignition source. When the bottle shattered, the white phosphorus (willie pete) was exposed to oxygen, whereupon it promptly ignited. Of course, white phosphorus is very unstable, not to mention exceedingly difficult to lay your hands on. And more than a little expensive assuming you can find some. So, I got bored, and designed a mechanically ignited version. It lacks the drawbacks of the other versions, it has several safety devices built in, and most importantly, it can be built fairly easily from commonly available components. That kind of scared me, a little bit, that I could see the problems with the existing version, redesign it, and, in under fifteen minutes, visualize the components, examine it for flaws in design, correct those few problems I found, and conceive a workable device. All in my head. Too bad I'll never have the chance for testing & eval(it'd probably be illegal), since I've got a hunch that it'd work like gangbusters. Maybe I should have been an engineer. | | 3:30 am |
Kevlar: does a body good!
Why would a person willingly choose to be heavy, hot, sweaty, chafed, and, generally speaking, uncomfortable? Because it could save your life. Body armor has come a long way in just the past few years, and yet..... Still there are those people who put their asses on the line every day who choose to not wear body armor. I honestly cannot understand these people. True, even soft body armor is uncomfortable (unless you go with the high-end *read: expensive* stuff) to wear for long periods of time. True, your odds of actually needing it, whether you're a cop, grunt, or security, are rather small. On the realistic side of the coin.... According to a National Institute of Justice study I read a few years ago, upwards of 65% of the lives saved by the typical "bullet proof vest", are saved in "non-ballistic-events". Whats that mean? By their nature, most types of body armor are designed to capture and redistribute the kinetic forces of an incoming ballistic projectile. In the simplest terms, wearing a bullet proof vest is the equivalent to crawling across thin ice as opposed to walking upright. The force is spread over a wider area. Thus, by their "bullet proof" design, most modern body armor is well equipped to handle a myriad of other kinetic energy threats. This means that more than two-thirds of the lives saved by soft body armor are lives saved in, for example; vehicle accidents, falls, blunt trauma, edged weapons, animal attacks, etc, etc, etc. I have personally known/ spoken to people who have; Fallen over 3 stories onto concrete, who sustained no serious injury Been struck by a vehicle while on foot, who sustained no serious injury Wrapped a vehicle around a telephone pole, who sustained no serious injury Why? Because they wore their body armor. I have also spoken to people who have been shot, have been in bad vehicle accidents, or have sustained serious falls... All of whom have sustained serious permanent injury. Why? Because they did not wear their body armor. Look at it like this; if you picked up someone in a bar, with the intent of engaging in sexual congress, you'd insist on a rubber, right? Well, kevlar is your general purpose rubber. And its good for just about any situation. Personally, I prefer to wear a vest that chafes, is hot, sweaty, and uncomfortable, as opposed to the alternative. | | Friday, February 20th, 2009 | | 10:08 pm |
Decisions, decisions.....
You know how there are times when you have two things you want to do, but you only have time for one? Welcome to my life, at the moment. On the one hand, I'm finding great deals on all kinds of tactical stuff I've wanted for a long time. Night vision, holsters, high-end body armor, load bearing equipment, etc, etc, etc.... On the other, I'm well aware that every dollar that I spend on this stuff, stuff that I don't "drop-dead-need-it-right-now" but really want, is another dollar away from buying my own house. I'm right on the cusp. I'm at the tipping point. I mean, why spend over $1k/ month on rent when, for a few hundred bucks more, I could own a house?? Part of me keeps shouting in the back of my mind, "well you might 'drop-dead-need-it-right-now' tomorrow, so you should get it while you can!" At the same time, I recognize that I'm in the eye of "the perfect storm". I have enough cash salted away, I live far enough below my means, the housing market and lending rates and my credit score all combine to a picture that, hell, I very well could afford to buy a house, by myself, at the ripe old age of 27. I am, by nature, a planner. Most aspects of my life I plan with the precision of a military operation. But planning to overcome obstacles requires knowing what obstacles you face. And the more I learn about buying real estate, the more I learn that I don't know what I don't know. For example, did you know that there are non-profit organizations who will give gift money to first time home buyers, for down payments, mortgage closing costs, etc? And by gifts, I mean gifts. As in, you don't have to pay them back. Being a planner, I tend to plan very conservatively. I don't plan based on what I made this year, I don't plan on my base salary, which is only about 75% of what I made this year. I plan on only 80% of my base salary, or 65% of what I made this year. And it still looks like I can afford it. What I really need is to have a sit down with some professionals. Subject matter expert (SME), thats what i need. If anybody knows one (or more!), let me know. | | 8:04 pm |
| | Saturday, February 7th, 2009 | | 2:21 am |
| | Thursday, February 5th, 2009 | | 2:24 am |
Ninety million, five hundred seventy five thousand, five hundred dollars, and ----------------00/100
I think I just had a stroke of genius. Not super-genius, just the regular kind. :) A member of Congress earns $169,300/ year. There are 435 Representatives in the house (correct me if I'm wrong, but 1 per 600,00 people in a state). There are 100 Senators (I would have said, "obviously", but apparently I can't assume things like that anymore). That's 535 jobs. At $169,300 a year, that's a grand total of $90,575,500. Now, many of these people (I don't have figures on all of them in front of me, you understand), come from money, or otherwise don't really NEED that $169,300 a year. Their kids aren't going to starve, in other words, if the checks got cut off. As criteria, lets say that any member of congress who's personal worth exceeds, say, a million dollars, in net assets, less whatever debt they have, are ineligible for taxpayer funded salaries. WTF, if its good enough for banking houses, it's good enough for our elected representatives, as far as I'm concerned. Seriously, John McCain owns, what 7 mansions? He needs my tax dollar, does he? Don't even get me started on the goddamn Kennedy's. Oh, BTW, Congress grants itself raises. Can you imagine that? Imagine walking into work and telling your boss, "yeah, we all talked it out, and you're going to be giving us a 2.5% raise this year. What? We voted on it." | | 12:58 am |
Sorry to Na in advance...
Jesus H Tapdancing Christ!!Are people really this goddamn stupid? I mean seriously! I can convert miles to kilometers (a klick is .621 miles or there about) in my head, but there are PEOPLE OUT THERE WHO DON'T REALIZE THAT .002 Dollars AND .002 Cents AREN'T THE SAME GODDAMN THING? Does it make me a bad person because I pray to a hopefully merciful God that people this stupid take a bath with a toaster before they can reproduce? I actually just came up with my campaign slogan for when I run for public office. "Stupidity: It's an epidemic!" When I'm in office, I shall work tirelessly to remove inane warning labels from things. Cigarettes, alcohol, lasers, power tools, firearms, and anything sharp, will have the warning labels removed. Things such as the above mentioned products are so obviously potentially hazardous if misused that, if people are so goddamn stupid that they need a sticker, label, or engraving to bring to their attention that cigarettes are bad for you, or that firearms are to be handled safely, or that coffee fresh out of the pot is hot, then they deserve whatever removes them from the gene pool. That's why everything didn't used to come with warning labels on them that presumed that everyone had the IQ of a chimpanzee. If you have good parents, they will teach you this shit in your formative years. If not, you will probably (and hopefully) suffer a painful death and not reproduce. Not to toot my own horn as being some super-genius. I'm not. But when I was about 4, and I found what looked like a gun at my grandparents house, I didn't touch it, but went to find an adult. The first time I saw a laser pointer I was, I don't know, in my teens somewhere? Probably 13 or 14 or so? But I knew, because I'm not a moron, that "Hey, I probably shouldn't point this thing in my eye." Oh, wait, they used to call that "Darwinism". Well hot damn. While I'm ranting about stupidity, why is it that every time I type "shouldn't" Live Journal flags it as a spelling error? Are you fucking serious? Should.....not......replace the second "o" with an apostrophe, and voila, I have invented the contraction! God I can't wait to blow something up. | | Wednesday, February 4th, 2009 | | 3:48 am |
Uhm...what?
I have been feeling fairly belligerent lately. Something is pissing me off. I'm not sure if what's pissing me off is the fact that my grandpa ( who was one of the best men I've ever known), died about a year ago, on Valentine's day, no less. It might be that coupled with the fact that I've been single for the past 8 years. It might be that I'm frustrated with the morons I work with. Whatever the reason, I feel hostile, and I now have the perfect opportunity to vent my spleen in a productive way. By shooting people and blowing shit up, in a training environment. And getting paid for it. Getting paid to vent your spleen, now, THAT'S a vacation. | | 2:28 am |
| | Sunday, February 1st, 2009 | | 6:06 am |
It occurs to me...
That every adult should be trained in the common infantry small-arms families. Here are the "Top 5", (not in any particular order), The M-16/ M-4/ AR-15 family, and derivatives thereof The AK-47/ AK-74/ AKM family, and derivatives thereof The G-3/ G-33/ MP-5 family, and derivatives thereof The FN-FAL/ FN-FNC family, and derivatives thereof. The M-1 Garand, M-1 Carbine, M-14 family, and derivatives thereof Every adult, male and female, should be able to load, operate, unload, and disassemble any weapon in this group. If the "SHTF" (Shit Hits The Fan), you are definitely going to encounter one (or more) of these weapon systems, either bearing them, or subjected to them. Thus, it behooves you to know as much as you can about them. If you know how to work a weapon, what its needs are, what ammo it eats, how it will break, and how to fix it, you will be way ahead of the curve when SHTF. See also; Hurricane Katrina. That's just about as SHTF as things can get. | | Wednesday, January 21st, 2009 | | 12:48 am |
Units of Measure
So I replaced a seal on my transmission today. It seems like a straightforward job until you start looking at everything else you have to take apart just to get to what you want. And then, of course, putting everything together again. The whole process is rather complicated by metric vs. standard. On a single vehicle, obviously, different fittings, nuts, bolts, etc, are different sizes. But when you have different sizes in two different systems of measure, well, things quickly become a royal pain in the ass. To replace a single $4 metal flanged rubber gasket, I needed a 12mm and 15/16in wrenches, as well as 10mm and 5/8in sockets. The problem is there's no nice neat diagram listing "bolt A is 9mm" or "nut B is 3/4in". You just have to eyeball it, guess, and then its trial by error. Strangely enough, strong knowledge of firearms makes the whole thing a lot easier. For example, our .50 caliber machine gun round is known pretty much everywhere else as the 12.7mm. So I might look at a bolt and be like, "Hm, looks like about a half inch. Better grab a 12 and 13mm socket while I'm up." Huzzah for a multi-use knowledge base! | | Monday, January 19th, 2009 | | 10:28 am |
Wanted.....
Mossberg 930 SPX Shotgun. Either this one, or barring that, this one. I don't know if the goddamn factory burned down or what, but nobody's got them, and nobody can get them. I must have called about an even dozen different gun stores, sporting goods stores, etc, over the past month; some of them two or three times. Actually, I know the factory didn't burn down. The answer is in my new icon. People are shittin' kittens, as the saying goes. 6 months ago, AR-15 magazines were $9 bucks a pop, even less than that if you bought a bunch of them. Last week I was in a gun shop, looking for this shotgun that has become my white whale, and they had a big box of them. How does $43 per grab you? And people were bloody paying it! I saw some guy walk out with three of 'em, and he was happy about it! Absurd! Anyways, if anyone happens to run across either of the above shotties, let me know. |
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