No Big Deal

Both New Wife and I got our second (“booster”) Covid jabs a couple weeks ago, and boy, how I suffered.

For the next two days, I couldn’t raise my left arm past shoulder height without it aching like a muscle pull.  Then on the third day, it rose again [sic]  without a problem.

In other words, I felt fine — not even mildly “off”, like I did with the first one the day after — and New Wife felt no side effects at all.

I honestly don’t see what all the fuss is about.

I do think that I’m growing a new head out my chest, though that may just be the gin talking.

Gloom

It’s getting on top of me.  The world’s going to hell at breakneck speed, and for the first time I feel powerless to prevent it happening.  Read the headlines of today’s Instapundit — just the headlines, not the stories — and tell me why I should feel any other way.

This feeling has been growing for some time now, which is why these pages have featured so many scantily-clad women, news snippets with snarky commentary, cars and other such trivia.

The weekend’s two posts about the future of the car business sum the whole thing up, really:  change, really bad change, is coming down the pike and there’s not a single thing that I or anyone else can do to stop it.  Standing athwart the tide of history shouting “Stop!” is a completely pointless exercise when yours is the only voice against a cacophony of voices cheering the tide along as history plunges inexorably along towards the abyss of pointless chaos and Dark Ages II.

The barbarians aren’t just at the gates, they’ve chopped the gates up and are using them for firewood to burn up not only our rights, but all those things which give us some small measure of joy.  Modern movies are total shit, modern cars are shapeless and emasculated, modern handguns are like the cars, indistinguishable from each other and underpowered by being chambered mostly for the rat-shit 9mm Paralympic.

The once-Stout Bulldog Brits are being told to cancel Christmas dinners and parties because of a virus that’s more akin to a bad cold — and they’re going to comply meekly, the gutless bastards.  And speaking of gutless bastards, the Australians, once renowned as the most ferocious warriors in the world, are being arrested in parks and confined to house arrest, all for the heinous sin of not wearing a piece of useless paper over their faces — and they’re doing fuck all to resist it.

The only good news of the day is that liberal asshole Chris Wallace has left Fox News;  except that Fox News has become more like NBC since the halcyon days of Roger Ailes, so even the good news is sprinkled with shit sugar.

I need a day off, maybe two.

And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to the range, because that seems to be one of the few joys left.  I’m going to shoot my Mauser’s 8mm ammo till my shoulder aches — I don’t care where the bullets land, I just want to shoot until I can’t anymore.  Then I’m going next door to the pistol range, and I’m going to shoot my 1911 to pieces, or my wrist, whichever breaks first.

My only regret is that I can’t get to the range in a truck with a loud, gas-guzzling V8 engine.

Monday Funnies

So to get out of that dreadful slide into the week, a little humor from the mind of a child:


Now for the grown-up stuff:

Still in the animal world:

…and he lost anyway.

Back to humans:


…probably the only defensible reason for having one.  (Thanks to Reader Quentin for sending me the pic.)


…in which case, they’re going to put up bleachers and sell tickets.

So stretch those limbs, gird your loins, and get to work.

Have The Greens Won?

In the Comments to yesterday’s post,  Longtime Reader and Friend geekWithA.45 said this:

And if you start to dissect exactly where this premise that the internal combustion engine must be phased out, and by what authority such decrees are proclaimed, you end up with a lot of nudge and smoosh; hints of legitimate authority, but without its actual substance.  A regulation here, and interlocking requirement there, a dash of social opprobrium there, it all adds up with zero accountability, socialized responsibility, and no single bad actor to point your finger at.  The art of smiley faced fascism reaches a new high.

Looking across The Pond, where this Green foolishness has reached its apogee, you get statements like this one:

Junior transport minister Trudy Harrison, 45, told a sustainability conference owning a car was outdated ’20th-century thinking’ and the country should move to ‘shared mobility’ to cut carbon emissions.

“Shared mobility” means at best enforced carpooling and such, and at worst public transport, which denies people the freedom to go anywhere except where the bus routes and train lines so they can.  Individual choice, then, is left to bicycles or this confounded electric scooters.

But note the condescension towards “20th-century thinking” — that would be the twentieth century which outdid the Industrial Revolution in its engineering development and progress, that created the explosion of knowledge distribution which outdid the invention of the printing press, and gave individuals all over the world freedoms unknown since the beginning of recorded history.

In fact, if you think about it, the junior minister’s statement would put individuals back onto trains, buses and bicycles — i.e. the transport systems of the nineteenth century — and no doubt for reasons of animal cruelty, no horseback travel would be allowed, thus making the twenty-first century’s inhabitants even worse off than their nineteenth-century forebears.

A couple years ago, BritPM Boris Johnson decreed that internal combustion-engined cars would be banned from manufacture by 2027 — by what law he didn’t say, which is a topic all by itself — thus making the hapless subjects of the Crown eventually reliant on electric-powered transport, to be powered by an electrical system which is even now insufficient for its existing purpose, let alone the gargantuan future needs of all-electric transportation — hence the suggestion of the junior minister (age 45).

All the same is true over here, although I would suggest (or hope) that any U.S. president who decreed the end of car manufacture as we know it would be thrown out of office at the next election — if not before — and the sheer size of the U.S. market would make the demise of gasoline-powered cars and trucks a remote eventuality indeed.

Although, as The Geek has suggested, the internal combustion engine will most likely meet its end by the death of a thousand cuts rather than by any single authoritarian decree.

It may well be, however, that the key word here is “remote”.  I’ve seen several studies among the future generation (under 25 years old) that they are all in favor of the above foolishness — electric cars, mass transport systems etc. — and to be perfectly blunt, if all this is a matter of demographics, then fine:  let the future generations revert to nineteenth-century transportation and be governed by twenty-first century totalitarianism.

My generation will all be dead by then, and the little buggers can live with the consequences of this Green silliness that they and their parents adopted oh-so willingly.

Last In The Line?

Many years ago, Jeremy Clarkson gave a V12 Aston Martin a test drive, and lamented along the lines of:  “What’s terrible is that this magnificent engine is soon going to disappear, because governments and Greens are going to force it to be phased out.  And that makes me very sad.”  Very unlike him to be so gloomy (as opposed to enraged or vitriolic), made all the more so because it was the final scene of a season-ending episode.

I had a similar feeling when I read this review of the Cadillac CT5-V Blackwing, especially this part:

“Cadillac’s engineers knew for a while that along with the CT4-V Blackwing, the CT5-V Blackwing would be the brand’s last internal-combustion super sedan. They wanted to go out on a high, and there’s something gloriously absurd and subversive about this car in particular. By the middle of this decade, Cadillac will be all-electric.”

It’s one thing to hear Clarkson making a prediction, but it’s quite another to be faced with an unstoppable corporate decision.

I’ve never wanted to own a Cadillac of any description or era, but I have to tell you that right at this moment, if I had the cash, I’d go and buy one of these just because.

Then again, why would I want to reward Cadillac, when it’s going to stab us gear/petrolheads in the back soon with their Duracell cars?  With the same cash situation, I would be even more tempted to buy one of these, simply because it has a V12 engine:

     

Don’t even get me started on some of the V12 oldies… e,g,

A pox on the Greens, may they all burn in the gasoline-powered flames of hell.