Happy Valentine's Day

I've got a suggestion for you guys out there - women, too. If the shoe fits, so to speak....

If you know someone who is afraid or unfamiliar with firearms, how about paying for them to take a Basic Pistol course? If you know someone ready to take the step away from victim status and toward personal responsibility, how about paying for a Personal Protection course?

Loving someone doesn't mean taking care of them - that's not anyone's responsiblity but the individual's. But if you can be a part of ensuring that your loved one is safer tomorrow than they were today, that has to be a priceless gift for both of you.

If you live in Michigan, you can look here for a certified instructor - other states, check here.

The Quest....

The schoolteacher peered in the looking glass, trying to imagine herself in the role of dragonslayer. Generally, she tried to avoid all contact with dragons, sickening, smelly, smoking sluggards, always looking to capture princesses and eat small children, but this time – ah, this time, it would be different. She intended to see the dragon die, no matter what the cost.

First, though, she would need to enlist help. A team – that was the only way to win. With one, there was a chance of failure but with the right three, a triumverate with the right strengths, the right skills, the right minds this fight could be won and triumph was guaranteed.

First she sought the lawkeeper. He was loud and brash, but sure and brave. He spoke more than was necessary but he brought laughter, as well as fairness, into the peasant’s lives. She outlined her plan, quietly, quickly and he agreed without hesitation.

Next came the songstress. She would be needed to lull the dragon, to lure him into the trap. She was more difficult. She had a family to think of, a husband who needed her, who would not willingly see her come into harm’s way. In the end, with the urging of the lawkeeper, she agreed to this strange woman’s plan.

The most difficult was yet to come. How does one persuade a king to join in a dragonslayer’s quest, especially when there is no treasure, no jewels, no gold, nothing to be gained but the safety of peasants who, as a general rule, mean nothing to a king.

Gaining entry to the king might be the tricky part, but once that was done, what to say? How to spin the right tale, sing the right song, wield the right weapon to force him to join them, to add his spirit and his power to the lowly group already joined in the quest. Surprisingly, on their arrival at the rather meager little castle of the king, they were shown immediately into the not-so grand chamber to face the king and tell their story.

He seemed amused at first.

“Sire,” the schoolteacher said, “we have come to ask for your company on a quest. A grand quest, sire, one which will make your name a legend.”

He snorted. “A legend, miss? Do not legends become legends because they have died bravely for their cause? I have no wish to die for your cause, or even for a cause that aids the kingdom. I like my life just as it is, and have no need of legend. Be gone, and take the lawkeeper and singer of songs with you.”

But the songstress, as planned well in advance, began to sing the softest song – a song that lured the king, entranced him and trapped him, without him even realizing how simple its tune had been, and how easily his will had been bent to theirs.

He called his pages and ordered them to bring horses, weapons, and food for their journey. He did not realize, perhaps never would, that his weapons, his glickety-glockety useless weapons would never slay this dragon. There was only one weapon that would end this dragon’s reign. There could be no compromise here.

The dragon’s lair was not far, but it was a perilous journey, and it could not be done alone. It would end with one of the three dead, but which – which would die in the jaws of the evil dragon, known as the Nevil? Which would not return to home, hearth and ham and eggs for breakfast.

The schoolteacher knew, but she could not change the future, she could only salvage the other lives that might be lost if the quest were not completed. Her weapon, her secret, her drive would be the ties that bound three of them to success and one of them to death.

And the dragon would die.

They mounted the steeds provided by the king and rode off, past cheering crowds, impressed, most of them for the first time, with the bravery of their king, who in another age and time might be known as a couch potato. Of course, no one would dare call him such to his face as that would cause severe damage to the offender. The king was not a forgiving soul and he tended to be cranky when his subjects disagreed with his needs and desires.

They traveled into the night, the songstress softly singing songs of faith and courage, the lawkeeper stolid and strong, the king trying to maintain his royal demeanor and the schoolteacher quiet, trying not to attract attention, lest questions should arise that she could not answer.

They stopped, they slept, they arose early and the schoolteacher led them to the dragon’s lair. Smoke rose slowly from the entrance to the cave and the songstress began her song. Sweetly it drifted o’er the ridge and seemed almost to float on the breeze down, down, down to the dragon and the smoke began to thicken and rise, sulphurous and ugly.

Suddenly, there was a roar, vicious, deep, almost tearing the clothes from their bodies as the dragon stirred and suddenly burst, screeching the dragon screech, the killer screech, the sound of death for one of the four. The singer sang, the lawkeeper drew his sword and the king – well, the king looked royal for as long as he could pretend to feel no fear, which was not very long at all in the scheme of things.

The schoolteacher drew back and to the right of the group, wanting a clear path between her and the dragon, trying not to be distracted by the manly posture of the lawman, or the beautiful song the songstress sung. The dragon flew overhead, swooping down, seeming to be ready to attempt to snatch the king in his royal robes, while the lawman stabbed and poked with his sword. He could not reach the dragon, though, and cried out in frustration.

If only the schoolteacher could lure him just a bit to the right, just far enough to avoid the risk of injuring one of the two who were to live. “Move,” she urged silently, “get out of the way, give me the space I need and I can save those who have been foretold and bring freedom from this dragon plague to the kingdom once and for all.”

Suddenly, it happened. The songstress moved to the left, the lawman to the right and the king was busily scurrying to a small cave in which he hoped to hide. The dragon swooped, snatched the king in his hoary claws and began to climb to the sky with his lunch in tow. Or toes, as the case may be.

The schoolteacher swept aside her robe and pulled her trusty Heckler and Koch P7 (a fine Germanic firearm obtained through magic and witchery that would be best left unexplained lest she be put to death by some foul means by the populace, which had no great love of either witches or dragons!) and squeezing the grip, she found her sight picture immediately as all of her training came to bear. One shot followed another in the double tap pattern she knew so well. Again, again, and suddenly, blood flowed, both dragonly green and kingly red.

The plunge to the valley floor was immediate and brutal. It was obvious to all that both the king and the dragon had suffered mortal blows. There would be no recovery, no songs sung that King Jon would ever hear, but his legend would be great, as would all of theirs.

The lawkeeper would be known forever as He Who Brought the Law to the Valley. The songstress would forever be known as She Who Brought Sweet Songs and Safety to the Subjects and the schoolteacher – ahhh, the schoolteacher.

She had a new position in life. All had gone according to plan, all had resolved just as she could have foretold it had she wished to. She, who had delivered the valley, she who had brought those together that would save all who dwelled there, she would be the one of whom they spoke when they shouted to the rooftops, “The King is Dead, Long Live the Queen!”

So How's This King Thing Work?

Well, you don't get a prize, you do get judged and you have to watch yourself either be carried to the painnacle of success or go down, ignominiously, in flames. You're judged by three (and more) complete strangers and found either supreme or wanting.

On a whim, I decided to throw my name, or blog, as it may be, into the ring on this site. What possesses me sometimes I do not know.

I had to submit a post (the last one done entitled Go Read a Book was mine) and agree to be judged by Bad Example, News From the Great Beyond, and The SmarterCop. What I didn't count on was the challenge question.

I thought I might be asked to write on some politically current idea, or even some socially relevent issue, either of which would be fine with me becaue that's what I like to think I do anyway.

But, noooooo....

My challenge question is: Write a fairy tale set in the blogosphere. Include only two of the judges.

Well, great. Just my style. A Fairy Tale. I am doomed, I fear, but it's all in fun so what the heck. Stay tuned.

I want to WIN!

Ok, so it's blatant self-promotion, but I wouldn't mind taking the crown here....

King of the Blogs

Go, vote for me....

Go Read a Book...

You don't have to burn books to destroy a culture. Just get people to stop reading them. -- Ray Bradbury, U.S. science-fiction writer (1920-)

Reading is one of the pleasures in my life that I cannot let go of. No matter how busy everything else gets, I still find time to read, still need words and ideas and the time to explore others' ideas. Some of the books I've enjoyed:

• Guns, Crime and Freedom - Wayne LaPierre
• Guns and Violence - Joyce Malcom
• The Bias Against gun - John Lott
• More Guns, Less Crime - John Lott
• The Federalist Papers - Alexander Hamilton, James Madison, and John Jay
• Anything by Carl Hiaassen or Isaac Asimov
• Almost any mystery, especially a decent procedural
• The Diaries of Adam and Eve by Mark Twain

I wish to share some of that last with you. If you love, or are loved, and did not come to it as if it were a bolt of lightning, that old "love at first site" thing, you may come to enjoy this as much as I do. If, perhaps, you came to love unevenly, with one loving before the other knew, you will value this. It begins:

Monday
This new creature with the long hair is a good deal in the way. It is always hanging around and following me about. I don’t like this; I am not used to company. I wish it would stay with the other animals. Cloudy to-day, wind in the east; think we shall have rain. ... Where did I get that word? ... I remember now—­ the new creature uses it.

Adam's story is one of exploration, frustration, surprise and, eventually, of love. Eve's is different. She loves first, knowing from the beginning that she is a part of him and always will be. Theirs is, as Twain is so capable of telling, the story of humans, their discovery of each other and of love, and their sharing of a life.

Early on, as my husband and I traveled down the eccentric path to finding each other, to coming to understand what love really could be to two people, I told him once that I felt as though I were a burden to him. That I had interrupted his life and that, much as Eve was to Adam, I was that "new creature with the long hair [who] is a good deal in the way."

He responded, "Wheresoever she was, THERE was Eden."

Buy the book. Give it to someone you love. Buy another and give it to two people who love each other.

Both Sad and Sick

Sometimes I see people doing things to children that make me sick. The latest example of this was when I went to go view a blog authored by an illiterate degenerate under house arrest for an undisclosed crime. Released from jail in August, 2004, his blog complains about being under house arrest, having to do community service, his filthy house, having to "piss in a cup" for his probation officer, paying his rent via loans from his mother-in-law (poor baby) and the sad story of his wife and son living in a house in a notorious drug zone on Spokane's West Side.

I looked at the picture of him and his child and up to that point, had been amused in a low level sort of way with this pinhead who thinks I should "die on public tv." But my focus immediately changes and I am no longer grinning at his stupidity and, in shock now, I have to wonder, "Why isn't anyone getting that child out of that environment?"


One assumes that the individuals involved in raising this child don't do it in a complete vacuum - that sometimes people go to their home and see the environment in which this child is being raised. Look at the picture "Daddy" chooses to share with the public. Even the little that one can observe shows trash strewn across the bed on which his child feeds him a piece of fruit.

Jailed for months, not allowed to drive for some unspeciifed reason, living off the wife's mother's contributions, functionally illiterate, certainly not employed (his part time job, he tells us, is trying to "sell shit on ebay"), evincing pride in being able to sit in his probation officer's office high as a kite -

so, i get more pain pills from the doc, and i take three of them before seeing d.o.c.. i was so high in there with my p.o. he knew it but he could not do a thing.

On probation and apparently heavily into drugs, living in a pig sty and this fellow is a "father." The child's grandmother would do well to find a way to get that child out of the hands of this sperm donor. Barring that, maybe she could offer to pay for a vasectomy. Heaven knows this guy doesn't need to be contributing any further to the gene pool.

I know a child advocate out in Seattle. If I could find out who this miscreant really is, I'd drop a dime on him in a heartbeat and see if she couldn't find anyone in Spokane to help this child out of that environment and into a decent life.

One of the saddest things about the direction of this country in the last forty years has been the cost to the children. Liberals cannot seem to understand what the cost is, in human terms, of people like this. They wring their hands, they wonder what can be done to help animals like this change for the better, but not once do they consider that perhaps, what might be best is simply to remove them from society.

Where is Darwin when you need him?

What Do People Want?

Back in 1969 a film and television critic, Clive Barnes, opined, “Television is the first truly democratic culture - the first culture available to everybody and entirely governed by what the people want. The most terrifying thing is what people do want.”

I wonder what he’d think of television in 2005.

According to the Nielsen Ratings, more than 27 million people watch CSI, which I am ok with – it’s a good show and I mostly enjoy it, which, of course, is why I am good with 27 million other people liking it as well. I'd like to see Vincent D'Onofrio replaced since, one, on a personal level, he's an idiot, and two, the character he plays is so tired, so overdone, so quirky, that it distracts from the show itself. I'll take any one of the Law and Order shows any time.

What doesn’t make sense to me, and probably never will, is that 24 million people watch Desperate Housewives and, even worse, although fewer people do so, is that 20 million people watch Extreme Makeover.

Extreme Makeover. There are people out there, 20 million of them, in fact, that lose an hour of their lives every week, in order to sit glued to the television, watching ugly people made… well, no different. Not that their looks aren’t changed, but who they are remains the same and I can tell you, that’s what makes the real difference in life.

David, a 36-year-old special education teacher for severely handicapped children from Highland, CA, always had a dream of becoming a rock star. With the help of his music idol, Tom Keifer from the '80s rock band Cinderella, David turns out rock hard and rocking. Not only did Tom surprise David with a meeting, but he also collaborated with David on a song written for his wife, Melissa. David had upper and lower eyelid lift, rhinoplasty, chin implant, neck sculpting, liposuction under chin and abdomen, removal of fat from lower eyes, mole removal, LASIK eye surgery, one porcelain crown, 15 porcelain veneers, tissue re-contouring of his lower gums and Zoom whitening.

Now, David’s apparently a really nice guy, doing good work, and was unhappy enough with his appearance to risk national exposure as an insecure guy, with some serious image problems. Well, ok, he does have Tom Keifer as an “idol”, and that does speak to some other problems with David’s psyche but what the hell.

So, two things.

One. David is going to find out, sooner rather than later probably, that appearance means nothing, especially to the person wearing the face. What does matter, of course, is what’s behind the face. David does valuable work, and I hope he does it well. The hands he holds, the hearts he touches, the minds he helps find growth, will never worry about David’s eyelids or droopy chin.

Two. If 20 million people have nothing better to do with their time, no higher ideal, no deeper thought than to sit and stare at a television screen while some near-middle-aged rocker wanna be with his priorities way the hell out of alignment with what really matters publicly humiliates himself, then it may be time for a purge.

Of course, I still like the movie Dogma, so who am I to talk….

And as an aside, if you ever do commit 135 minutes to watching Dogma on DVD, try this with Disc 1:

Select Scene Selections
Hit More until you're at the last page
Hit the number '3' twice on your remote control
Sit back and watch 'How Jay Thinks Kevin Directs' as acted out by the Jay and Silent Bob action figure theatre.

NOTE: You may have to hit 'ENTER' after each number on some players.

I love Easter Eggs.
I mostly hate network TV.

Neal Knox

From the Desk of

Neal Knox The Firearms Coalition
PO Box 3313
Manassas, VA 20108

5 January 2005

Dear Friends,

I’ve always made it a point to deliver the news to you straight – good or bad. Now I’m afraid I have some unpleasant news. As you’re aware, I have been fighting colon cancer for the past year. The doctors tell me that my fight is almost over.

I believe in miracles. I believe in God’s healing power and eternal life through Jesus Christ. I know it will take nothing short of a miracle for me to win this battle.

Should that miracle be granted, I will rejoice; but I rejoice nonetheless, for I’ve been blessed with a wonderful life, a great family, work that I love, and many wonderful friends. Most of all, I thank God for my long-suffering wife Jay Janen who not only put up with me, but has actively supported my efforts for the Second Amendment for nearly forty-nine years.

It’s been a great run!

I had always assumed that long life was my birthright. My father passed away just this past fall at the age of ninety-two.

I counted on the same sort of life-span and was planning accordingly. We’ve barely settled into that house in the country that I’ve been promising Jay for so long. I started rebuilding her classic Mustang convertible and have it in pieces in the basement garage. I’ve laid out a 100- yard range next to the house, and was looking forward to having my dear friend Ken Oehler help me set up a ballistics lab in the basement.

Time for those projects was budgeted into the next generation of the Firearms Coalition. The plan was to have sons, Chris and Jeff take more prominent roles in the fight, freeing me up to do other things like shooting and writing books. Jeff moved out here for that purpose over a year ago but my illness sidetracked those plans.

I have long wanted to evolve the Firearms Coalition into a resource for grassroots activists and organizations. The goals of the Coalition would be to provide activists with the resources, training, and technology they need to be more effective in the fight.

Now, I hope you will help Jay and the boys as it looks like they will be taking on this important task without me.

There will be more details in the weeks and months to come, including a new book that Chris, Jeff and I have been collaborating on. I regret that I am unlikely to see it in print, but I am confident in their ability to see it through.

I am thankful for you and the many other friends that have blessed my life making me a truly wealthy man. There have been disagreements, even fights, but the goal of freedom has been a unifying force.

I ask your prayers, both for me and for my family, especially for Jay who never expected to see me go first.

I urge you to continue the fight. Continue your support of the ongoing efforts of the Firearms Coalition and keep the grass roots growing.

Thank you for keeping me in the fight for all these years.

As always: Yours for the Second Amendment,

Neal

And from his wife:

Neal passed away early this morning, January 17. He was surrounded by our children and his brothers and went quickly without pain.

A memorial service has been scheduled for Thursday, January 20, at the Manassas Church of Christ, 8110 Signal Hill Road in Manassas, Virginia. The service will begin at 10:30 AM with a luncheon to follow.

It was Neal’s wish that in lieu of flowers, donations be made to the Firearms Coalition or to Rainbow Children’s Home in Gainesville, VA.

Firearms Coalition
P.O. Box 3313
Manassas, VA 20108

Rainbow Christian Services
6004 Artemus Rd.
Gainesville, VA

Neal’s condition deteriorated so rapidly that there wasn’t time to get the above- letter out before his death. He very much wanted to let you, as a faithful friend, know what was going on. We will post more information on the web site, http://www.nealknox.com/.

I can’t tell you how much Neal has loved the difficult work to which he has dedicated his life. It has cost us much while at the same time being extremely rewarding in so many ways. The greatest reward has been the love and friendship that we have found along the way.

You’re an important part of that.

Thank you so much,

Jay Janen Knox

His obituary:



Neal Knox

Neal Knox, former vice president of the National Rifle Association and long-time leader of the gun rights movement, died at his home on January 17, 2005 following a year-long battle with colon cancer. He was sixty-nine. He is survived by his wife, Jay Janen Knox (Shirley) and his four children; Christopher, Shan, Jeffrey, Stacey, and seven grandchildren.

Born Clifford Neal Knox on June 20, 1936 in Rush Springs, Oklahoma, Neal spent most of his early life in Texas, graduating from Vernon, Texas High School and attending Abilene Christian College. His early working years included eight years in the Texas National Guard, stints in insurance and the oil business, and assignments as a reporter for the Vernon Daily Record and, later, the Wichita Falls Times and Record News. At that same time, he was demonstrating his life-long interest in firearms as a freelance writer for several gun magazines.

Neal’s interest in guns eventually led to his becoming the founding editor of Gun Week newspaper, followed by the editorship of Handloader magazine and the creation of Rifle magazine. From 1978 to 1982, he served as Executive Director of the Institute for Legislative Action, the lobbying arm of the National Rifle Association.

Since 1984, as chairman of the Firearms Coalition, Neal has dedicated himself to writing, speaking and lobbying for the development and support of grassroots gun rights organizations.

During his life, Neal competed in, and often won, competitions in virtually every shooting discipline, including winning a national title in bench rest. In addition to his shooting interests, he was an accomplished pilot, holding instrument and multi-engine ratings.

A memorial service has been scheduled for 10:30 A.M., Thursday, January 20, at the Manassas Church of Christ, 8110 Signal Hill Road in Manassas, Virginia.

In lieu of flowers, the family requests donations to the Firearms Coalition Neal Knox Memorial Fund, Box 3313, Manassas, VA 20108. Tax-deductible donations may be made to Academics for the Second Amendment Neal Knox Memorial Fund. Contributions may also be made in his name to the Rainbow Children’s Home in Gainesville, Virginia.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Neal will be missed by each and every one of us devoted to the Second Amendment fight. He was a part of my education on the issues and I enjoyed his writings, which live on as a part of his legacy.

Newdow is Old News....

From this morning's Legal Times:

Newdow Expected to Appeal Decision on Inaugural Prayer
Tony Mauro
Legal Times
01-18-2005

Time is running out, but Sacramento, Calif., atheist Michael Newdow still hopes to stop President George W. Bush from beginning and ending his Jan. 20 inaugural ceremony with prayers by two Protestant ministers.

Newdow is expected to appeal U.S. District Judge John Bates' decision late Friday rejecting almost every claim Newdow made in challenging the prayers.

Bates said Newdow's suit mirrored too closely a similar suit he filed and lost after the last inauguration. And Bates doubted he had the authority to enjoin the president from inviting whomever he wanted to speak at his inaugural.

At a hearing before Bates in U.S. District Court in D.C. on Jan. 13, Newdow -- who addressed the court by speakerphone from California -- had argued that the inaugural amounted to state endorsement of religion at "the grandest civic ceremony our nation has."

Newdow made headlines last year for his Supreme Court challenge against the words "under God" in the Pledge of Allegiance.

The Honorable John Bates did that rare thing making a common sense decision and I applaud him for that.

More and more, I get the feeling that for Mr. Newdow, all that matters is the headlines. And for that, no applause is necessary or desirable.

I'd Rather Not, Thanks...

Giving credit where credit is due, NewsMax.com reports:

In a development first covered Tuesday morning by "Fox and Friends" host E.D. Hill, the report says:

"Heyward recalled speaking to Rather on Monday, September 6, and being told that the story was thoroughly vetted. Heyward also told the Panel that Rather said he had not 'been involved in this much checking on a story since Watergate.'” [page 104]

The only head left unrolled at CBS after the Memogate debacle, Dan Rather has pretty much represented himself throughout this as right, Right, Right, Right! Not politically, of course, because he obviously believes anyone to the right of Marx is still too Republican.

Unfortunately for Rather, he's been flat out busted and a couple of things finally came into play. First we get to see what media whores really do when TSHTF. They point their dirty little fingers and people start to go down. Rather only made it as far as he has for two reasons. One, the network thought it could weasel out of looking like it was run by a collection of idiots (first wrong assumption) and two, the network really cannot legally risk admitting Rather knew it was completely a put-up job - and make no mistake about it, it was - because of the legal hassles that could have enused. And still may.

Two and a half months after the incredibly stupid broadcast, Rather announced his retirement. Two months later, the report comes out and heads roll. Now with four people fired, we only need to wait two more months before Rather is gone. Unfortunately for See-BS, they'll need just a tad longer to regain any measure of credibility.

The simple fact of the matter is, Rather's ego outgrew his abilities and he took the big fall. I'll be happy to see him gone, but I have got to ask the Decison Makers at headquarters, "What the hell are you thinking? Do you boobs there behind the big, unblinking, myopic eye really think your credibility will be improved by hiring Katie Couric?"

One request I do have for the Rathers, Michael Moore and his oily ilk, the Power Mad Soros Group types and the rest of the Useful Idiots out there.

Will you please find something else to do with your time and let the elective process go forward as honestly as it can? Let the little guys among us make mistakes and the few of you knotheads that think you're so damned much smarter and richer that you ought to be able to decide who our presidents should be just shut up and leave us the hell alone. I, for one, am sick to death of you.

And I am not alone.

Funny bit - read it for your grin for the day:

Judge Judy talks to Dan and Ms. Mapes.