Heroic Murderous Bastards

Many years back we took the kids to see the Smithsonian in D.C., only to be ambushed by the pathetic, self-flagellating exhibit of the 1941 Japanese-American internment.

Surprise, surprise, they’ve done it again.  Apparently, they also love that rat bastard Commie Che Guevara:

Che would write tender poetry for his wife, and when he departed for the Congo in 1965, left tape recordings of his favorite romantic verse, including Pablo Neruda’s “Goodbye: Twenty Love Poems”. He also left a letter for his four children to be opened and read only in the case of his death.

Oh, how nice.  Here’s how the Left prefers to remember the murderous asshole:

…while my favorite Che pic is this one:

And I find it satisfyingly ironic that when faced with his own death at the hands of his captors, the sadistic prick cried like a little girl and begged for his life.

Sic semper tyrannis.

Monday Funnies – Halloween Edition

Good grief, man, it’s only the Monday before Halloween — no need to get carried away like that!

But if yer gonna party, beware the next day:

Or you can get creative:

And if yer going to go to one of “those” Halloween parties:

…beware the possible consequences, such as July Pumpkin:

…or even Syphilis Pumpkin:

Whatever you do, just Pumpkin away:

And as always, here’s the Mistress Of The Dark:

Now get out there and scare someone.

Desert Island Dames

Some time back, I riffed on the “Desert Island Discs” theme to create a “Desert Island Guns” post, whereupon a couple of you bastards Curious Readers took it upon themselves to ponder about which five women I would like to be marooned on a desert island with (assuming, of course, I was not married and could have my pick of any women in the world).

Five?  Good grief, who do you think I am, Errol Flynn?  Some NBA basketball player?  A 20-year-old boy?

Okay, if the theme for the Guns post was “guns I love to shoot” then here’s my list of the five women I’d love to etc. etc.  In no specific order (because I will not  start a catfight before I even get there):

1)  Salma Hayek.  I love that accent, she seems like fun, and as for the rest, ’nuff said:Downside is that being Mexican, she’s probably jealous as hell, but there ya go.

 2 ) Carol Vorderman.  Apart from her obvious assets, she’s also an engineer and pilot, so during her down time (so to speak) she could fix stuff around the place and fly in supplies of booze and ammo (also Viagra) each week:

3)  Sarah Palin. Apart from her delectability, she cooks and shoots, and I’d love a shooting partner.I know she’s getting a little long in the tooth, but then so am I.

4) Nigella Lawson. Because Sarah’s gonna need time off from cooking for her other activities.  Only I want the earlier, sexier and more bountiful version of Nigella (see below), not the new slimmed-down shrunken model:

5)  Amy Adams.  No way am I going to be marooned without at least one genuine redhead, and Amy is the business:


Helena Bonham Carter.  Because I like a little crazy.

Jennifer Tilly.  Also crazy, and I need someone to play cards with when I’m too tired to do anything else.

Katarina Witt.  No explanation needed.  Also, I need to practice my German.

Monica Bellucci.  Because mama mia.

Juliette Binoche.  French lessons.

And lastly, opera singer Lucy Kay (who can sing me to sleep at night).

Still Relevant?

I’ve been thinking about the SHTF thing recently (as one does), and a random thought occurred to me:  is the venerable AR-7 Survival Rifle still a consideration for inclusion in Ye Olde Bugge Out Bagge?  Here’s the original Armalite AR-7:

I tested one of these puppies many years ago, and I was seriously underwhelmed.  I tried at least half a dozen different types and brands of .22 LR, and I got either flawless feeding and crappy accuracy, or decent accuracy and a 1:3 jam rate.  So I wrote the thing off as a waste of time — just another gimmick.

However, time has passed and the AR-7 has now become the property of Henry Repeating Company — and they’ve made some changes, all for the better.  So the question comes up again:  is the little AR-7 still relevant as a SHTF option?

Apparently, it is — or at least, these guys seem to think so.

And I really like what Henry’s done with it.  The component stowage has been tidied up:

Of course, the packed-up rifle is still not only waterproof, but it floats as well:

…and the addition of a high-viz front sight and scope rail, in my opinion, has made all the difference.

So the original concept has been refined enough so that it is, at least, a viable little firearm — and Henry’s creation of an accompanying mini-bug-out pack (see the first link) has made it all the more appealing.

Nevertheless, I’m still a little dubious about the AR-7, and here’s why.  If one is wandering around in the wilderness after the S has HTF, the whole palaver of having to assemble the rifle into an operating firearm is somewhat time-consuming — and given the exigencies of such a scenario, wouldn’t one want the thing to be ready at all times?

(And I’m not going to get into the argument about whether the .22 LR cartridge is a viable SHTF option because it is, in the function for which it is intended:  popping small game for the pot.  No problem with that.)

My question is that since a modern SHTF scenario involves not only wandering around in some post-apocalyptic landscape looking for squirrel snacks, but avoiding (or at worst, fending off) feral critters of the human persuasion, would the .22 requirement not be better served by a longish-barreled handgun such as the 10-round capacity S&W 617, worn on the hip?

Sure, the 16″ barrel of the AR-7 is always going to be more accurate than the 6″ barrel of the 617, but in reality, if one is potting critters over unscoped sights, the shorter distances in practice make the issue somewhat moot, I think.  And if we’re going to insist on a semi-auto .22 firearm, then there’s always the Buckmark URX Contour, with a 7″ barrel (and rail for a scope/red-dot arrangement):

Here’s what I think, at the end of all this.  I like the AR-7 concept, a lot.  I think that as a “stow away and forget about it” addendum to the trunk of your car or storage space in your truck — especially with that survival pack — it’s a winner.  Henry’s rather clever payoff line for the AR-7 is “Don’t leave civilization without it”, and I sorta-agree with that.

But I think that as a SHTF tool, the .22 LR function would be better left to a handgun, while the actual survival  function is delegated to an AR-15 or AK-47.  But that  said, there’s nothing wrong with having an ultra-lightweight rifle in your hands or in your backpack, either.

As you can see, I’m hopelessly conflicted about the AR-7.  Feel free to untangle, explain or even cast insults upon my thoughts, in Comments.  All such would be quite welcome.

Snowflake Report

Good grief, why bother to go if clapping is going to intimidate you?

Snowflake students at Oxford University are the latest to demand that clapping should be banned because applause noise can trigger anxiety and want ‘jazz hands’ to be used instead.
The idea for a British sign language alternative for clapping involving the waving of hands was put forward at the student union’s first meeting of the year on Tuesday.
Sabbatical Officers Roisin McCallion, Vice President for Welfare and Equal Opportunity and Ebie Edwards Cole, Chair for Oxford SU Disabilities Campaign, successfully passed the motion to mandate the encouragement of silent clapping.

My suggestion is that for “clapping”, substitute “slapping”, but no doubt some fainting fairy is going to have a problem with that too.  And if the noise of clapping triggers that much anxiety in them, I wonder how they’d react to gunshots.

And note the caption for a couple of the pics:

Sabbatical Officers Roisin McCallion (left), Vice President for Welfare and Equal Opportunity and Ebie Edwards Cole (right), Chair for Oxford SU Disabilities Campaign, successfully passed the motion to mandate the encouragement of silent clapping

Yep, that’s what education is all about.  “Sabbatical Officer and VP Welfare and Equal Opportunity”, my aching ass.

And to think that one of my greatest dreams once was to attend Oxford.

Not Too Far Away

This preciously-named website has a survey of the single best BBQ restaurants by state.  I’m not that up on BBQ — for the record, I prefer the spicier Memphis type, rather than the sweet Texas manifestation, but when ya live in Texas… according to the folks at Delish, it seems that the place to go is Stanley’s, in Tyler.

Maybe so, but Tyler is over a hundred miles away from Plano, and even for Texas — where distance is measured in six-packs — that’s an awful long way to travel just for smoked meat.  (It also means that because of MADD [spit]  one can’t have a few beers with the BBQ, which I think contravenes some state law.)

Anyway, it’s not like we don’t have any decent places within a couple zip codes of here (also a short trip, by Texas standards).  Most notable among these are Hard Eight (TWO locations nearby!!), Sonny Bryan’s, Winners and Lockhart (both in Old Town Plano).

But (and my non-Texas Readers will forgive the parochialism) I wrote this post to bring to my Local Readers’ attention a place called Delta Blues (just off Windhaven and the Dallas North Tollway), which is the latest offering from the famous Pappas Brothers company (Pappadeaux, Pappacitos, Pappas Steak House etc.) and which replaced the old Bone Daddy’s establishment at that address.

I went there last Tuesday with the Son&Heir for our sorta-monthly meet-up (when we don’t go to the DFW Range, that is), and good grief:  it is, in a word, wondrous.  I didn’t try anything other than the pork (pork-belly starter and a pulled pork sandwich) because PORK, and let me tell y’all:  best pork I have ever — ever — eaten.  And I’ve eaten a LOT of pork, all over the world.

What Delta Blues has done has created a BBQ place that, contra  the usual BBQ ethos of the down-home, slightly scruffy joint, is about as close to fine dining as BBQ will ever get.  It is admittedly quite expensive — at about the same level as Hard Eight — but the food is much, much  better than average, and it’s served by waiters, not self-serve or cafeteria style like many such places.

It’s so good that I’m going to take New Wife there on Sunday for Sticky Pork Belly Bites and a side of giant fries.

(Honestly, my mouth is watering as I write this.)

The only caveat is that like British pubs, Delta Blues has somewhat eccentric dining hours:  11am – 2.30pm and 5pm – 10pm during the week — and it’s CLOSED on Mondays;  but they’re open 11am – 11pm on Saturdays and Sundays.

Don’t care about any of that:  there’s a new kid in town, and it’s got my number.

Sorry, Tyler;  Stanley’s will have to wait until my next road trip out to East Texas.

By the way:  for Memphis BBQ we have Red Hot & Blue, also in Plano.  Are we spoiled, or what?