At Last, The End

So the interminably-horrible Game Of Thrones  TV show has ended.  Hoo-fucking-ray.

Watched the very first few episodes because the Son&Heir (who had read all the books) said I should, then walked away when Sean Bean was killed — I knew even back then that a writer who slaughters the main characters in his story has only contempt for his readers, and so it proved.

Good riddance.  But hey, don’t take my word for it;  try this bloke’s take on the final episode (if you care):

This whole pitiful spectacle couldn’t have been more stultifying if it had opened with the words, ‘This is a party political broadcast on behalf of the Liberal Democrats of Westeros’. The problem was that Game of Thrones, once so irreverent and mercurial, started to believe its own press releases. After winning more Emmys than any series in history, it imagined it was Great Art. Since its first episode in 2011, which stunned viewers with two electrifying shocks in the final scene, the show has killed off more than 100 characters, not to mention countless thousands of serfs and nameless soldiers – and never paused to regret a single one of them. But that psychopathic streak was forgotten yesterday, as the handful of survivors moped around the city of King’s Landing to a soundtrack of sad cello music.

Sometimes when one has seen an especially-bad movie (e.g. Lord Of The Rings trilogy), one demands a return of those hours of wasted life.  Imagine what one would feel after eight seasons of this shit…

Which reminds me:  I need to call the Son&Heir and mock him.

The Full Texas Thang

Last Saturday I took New Wife out for a Full Texas Day (I know, I know:  never go Full Texas).

Part One was the Fort Worth Gun Show (that was for me, of course, although she found several Girly-things to buy there, and did).  Blessedly, there was more on display than the usual AR-15/Glock/Tacticool stuff (although there was plenty of that too):

… although that mythical unicorn (mint condition Colt Python for under $1,000) was nowhere to be found, of course.  There was a S&W Mod 65-3 for sale, but it looked like it had been towed behind a Ford F-150 for a mile or two, and they wanted $700 for it, so:  pass.  However, there was a vendor selling from a huge  selection of Anza knives, and somehow I managed not to buy a single one (although I could have bought six or seven, easily).

Good grief, they’re lovely knives.  I’m rapidly starting to think of Anza knives as I do .22 rifles — i.e. every home should have at least one — and the next time I go to the Ft. Worth gun show, I’m going to buy another one, because… I shouldn’t have to explain myself on this one, should I?  Here’s one that caught my eye, just because of the shape:

…but honestly, I could also see myself getting any one of these little beauties too.

We were planning on getting a late lunch of BBQ in downtown Ft. Worth (Part Two), but as it happened, there was a vendor at the show from Robinson’s BBQ (“since 1947”) so that was the brisket taken care of — and it was excellent.

We did take a little drive trip through Ft. Worth, and would have stopped to listen to the orchestra playing in Sundance Square, but parking in downtown is crappy, so we didn’t.  Instead, we went out to The Stockyards for a little shopping and entertainment.

The shopping at the various Western wear stores (Part Three) was patchy — some expensive stuff there, Bubba — but I did manage to snag a decent summer-weight vest which doesn’t look like a mil-surp, fishing- or photographer’s vest for a decent price.  New Wife, not so lucky.  (She steadfastly refused to let me buy her some cowboy boots, but hey:  she’s been in Texas less than five months, and I only got a pair of cowboy boots after over fifteen years  here, so it’s a long-term project.)  Also:

Anyway, it was getting late, so we went into Riscky’s for more BBQ and margaritas (Part Four):

Decent ribs, outstanding  grilled shrimp (seriously, maybe the best I’ve ever tasted), and Ernesto the barman is brilliant.  (I tended bar in my distant yoot, so I know the trade.)

Dinner over, we went to Part Five of the Full Texas Thang:

Oh yeah, baby… rodeo! 

Now I have to confess that I’m no expert on rodeo — mostly, I think it’s cheap country entertainment — but you can’t go Full Texas without rodeo, right?  So we watched the bull-riding, bronco busting, calf-roping and all that, until the over-loud PA (and screaming commentator) got to my tinnitus and the hissing/whistling sound became unbearable (my ears are still ringing as I write this, the day after).

But New Wife enjoyed the day thoroughly, even the gun show — although she won’t be going to another one anytime soon — and hey… how often do you get to go Full Texas with a newbie?

Real Goths

…and we’re not talking about the sad, trendy youngins who look sad, feel sad and listen to sad music.  No, we’re talking about the people (of all ages) who are inspired by the gothic novel form, as seen in Bram Stoker’s Dracula.  And where else can one indulge one’s inner Goth than in the town which inspired it all?

When it comes to dressing up in costumes, I’m all for it.  Many’s a costume party I’ve attended wearing Viking dress (complete with battle-ax and horned helmet), or a Roman toga, or a Fifties-era outfit, or a French military uniform from World War I (to name but a few of the personas I’ve adopted).

My rule of thumb:  when it’s a party, it’s fine.  When it becomes your lifestyle, then it’s fucking pathetic.

News Recap

…in which I summarize snippets of news that I couldn’t be bothered to spend more time over.

  1. Disney Corporation reinstates some director I’ve never heard of to make a movie I’m never going to see — yeah, whatever.  Falling tree, meet forest.
  2. Gummint assholes make a guy park somewhere else and try to destroy his business because his bumper sticker hurt their feewings — actually, his bumper sticker (Black Rifles Matter) simultaneously satirizes an anarcho-racist movement and makes a pro-Constitutional freedom statement.  Anyone know where I can get one?
  3. Piers Morgan talks a load of bullshit (again) — I know, not really news.  [totally unnecessary warning:  link contains Piers Morgan]
  4. Chelsea Clinton accused of  helping incite New Zealand massacre — you couldn’t cut irony this thick with a chainsaw.
  5. Senator Elizabeth Warren (1/1024 part-Cherokee) has no sympathy for parents who attempted to corrupt the college admissions process — where can I get my chainsaw sharpened?
  6. The French are revolting (again) — there’s only one answer to all this for granny-grabbing FrogPM Macron:  ban the weekend!  And finally:
  7. Kids skip classes (but for a “good cause”) — creates two (largely rhetorical) questions:  1) given how totally shit the public school system is (regardless of country), was this absence actually a better thing for the kids? and 2) will this mass walkout actually achieve anything concrete in affecting “climate change”?  (All those who attempted to answer “yes” to the latter question, put on the Dunce cap and go stand in the corner.)

Cartoon of the week (via Insty, thence Power Line):

Think of it as visual evidence of this thesis.

Picking My Spot

As promised yesterday, here’s my choice of WitSec relocation:

Traverse City, MI

  • Close to a large body of water
  • Small town but not a small-town mentality
  • Interesting downtown with lots of eclectic stores and restaurants
  • Quite a cosmopolitan population, for a small Midwest town
  •  Four proper seasons — warm summers, cold-but-not-frigid winters with lots of snow, and glorious spring / fall weather
  • Decent gun laws, and more importantly, local county sheriffs who have the right ideas about the Second Amendment
  • Nice airport, with short hops to Chicago (for dinners, shows etc.)
  • Short drive over to Canada, where I can buy cheap prescription drugs / drink coffee at Tim Horton’s

All that said, I was last there several years ago, so if any of you are locals / near-locals, feel free to educate me if the place is going / has gone down the shitter.