Category: Advice

Shutdown

Advice, Drive Time

As Longtime Readers know, I’m not shy to take the occasional swipe at Oz and the Strylians.  This, however, is not good:

We are fifteen days into the Iran–US war. The Strait of Hormuz, the narrow stretch of water through which 20% of the world’s oil and gas normally flows, is effectively closed. Tankers have been hit. Insurers have pulled coverage. Commercial shipping has ground to a standstill for over a week. Brent crude closed Friday at US$103 per barrel, up from $70 before the war, having already spiked to $119.50 during the week. Iran’s military spokesperson has warned oil could reach $200.

Australia imports over 90% of its refined petrol, diesel and jet fuel, almost all of it processed in Asian refineries that are now hoarding output for their own populations. China has banned refined fuel exports. Thailand has suspended petroleum exports. Singapore and South Korean refineries are operating under force majeure. The International Energy Agency has just announced the largest emergency stockpile release in its 50-year history — 400 million barrels across 32 nations.

When the world’s energy watchdog fires its biggest gun, you don’t need a PhD to know the situation is serious.

I hope my Oz Readers (both of them) will take this warning to heart, if they haven’t already.

It’s no longer a joke.

People Who Matter

Advice

In talking about how he has had to deal with online hatred and attacks, Greg Lukianoff passes on the advice he got from some wise man:

You can have friends whose opinions you don’t take seriously, and you can have opponents whose point of view you very much do. So, pick your ten. Figure out who the small number of people are whose judgment you genuinely trust, the people who know you well enough and love you enough to tell you the truth when you’re wrong, when you’re being unfair, when you’re getting carried away, or when — to use the technical term — you are full of shit. Then, when the crowd is screaming, when the internet is losing its mind, when strangers are confidently informing you who you are and why you did what you did, bring it back to those ten. Ask yourself what they would think. Ask yourself whether they would be disappointed in you. Ask yourself whether they would tell you that you had acted unfairly, or out of vanity, tribalism, or cowardice. Or even better, go and ask them yourself.

In my case, I don’t have ten people to call upon, because quite frankly, I don’t give a flying fuck what strangers think of me, and never have.  I do care what certain people think of me, but that number is really small — far fewer than ten — and which people depends on which topic is under discussion anyway.  I am friendly with people who are more liberally-minded than I am, or who are deeply religious, for example, so occasionally I might pause before opening my big yap to expound on what has raised my irritation level, but I have to say, I don’t pause for very long.

People who know me also know about my opinions, and by and large they accept them, or not, as the case may be.  I don’t change my opinions very often anyway, because in most cases they have come after long and detailed contemplation, so (in the absence of further information) there’s little reason to change them — and “because this might offend Person X” is not a reason for change.

That said, if I am occasionally guilty of being full of shit, I will accept the excoriation from these few people and either change my position or else at least acknowledge my stupidity.  Most of the time, it’s because they know more about the topic than I do, and I bow to their expertise without a second thought.

But for the rest?  I don’t care a fig, and never have.

“Dear Dr. Kim”

Advice

“Dear Dr. Kim:

“I’m a free spirit; I love taking risks and having sex with strangers. I’m 30 and I’ve tried conventional relationships. Boring. I can’t stand guys telling me to what to do. I can’t think of anything worse than being tied down to one person.
“From hook-up apps and dating websites to old-fashioned pick-up joints, nothing thrills me more than spotting someone I fancy and dragging him back to mine. That’s not to say that I don’t enjoy risky sex in cars, down alleys, in parks and on beaches too – because I really do. Just recently I’ve had married men, toy boys, freaks, weirdoes and normals and I’ve lapped up every one of them. Finally, I’m taking life by the throat.
“I look fitter and sexier too. People are saying that I’ve got an amazing glow and energy about me – and I put that down to the great sex I’m having.
“Here’s my problem:  My folks keep nagging me to find a partner and settle down. They call me an embarrassment and a disgrace. They claim that my lifestyle is out of control and that I’m in danger of burning out.
“So the price I pay is constant grief from my old-fashioned, interfering family. Of course, they don’t know the half of what I get up to, but they can’t stand that I’m a single woman with a high sex drive and the ability to attract dishy blokes. I’ve just had the most monumental row with my older sister who called me a slut and an embarrassment. How do I make everyone understand that I just don’t care?”
— Bonks Anything, UK

Dear BonksALot:

I’m not going to get into any morality plays with you, because like a suicide bomber, you’re pretty much past redemption.  (Although I have to say that your sister has it pretty much nailed, so to speak.)

What I’m curious about is how your poor family got to know all about your freestyle bonking.  Do you tell them all about it at every opportunity?  Have others been telling them about it?  Do you post your tawdry little stories on Instagram or TikTok or whatever?

Frankly, I’m pretty sure that your next letter to me will be a complaint that your family no longer wants to see you or have anything to do with you — no invitations to Christmas dinners, nor to weddings and so on.

Go on and be happy with the lifestyle you’ve chosen for yourself.  You deserve it, and all the consequences thereof.

—

Short-Range Zero

Advice, The Gun Thing

Ron Spomer tells you how to sight in your scoped rifle when you don’t have access to a long range.  (You may sometimes need a buddy to help you, I think — Ron does.)  And I have to tell you

Here’s my take on this.

A vast preponderance of shots are made at what I’d call short range:  less than 150 yards.  And if you do most of your hunting in any kind of woodland, it’s likely to be less than that — think 50 yards.  So if you’re doing this kind of shooting, then a 30- or 50-yard zero makes a lot more sense.  (Frankly, if you’re shooting at about 50 yards or less, I seriously question whether you need a scope at all.)

I think the longest shot I ever took back in South Africa was a measured (by pacing off) 325 yards, and I have to tell you, had I been more experienced a hunter back then, I probably would have backed off and not taken it.

Now?  If I were to go hunting at all (which is highly unlikely), I’d set my limit at 100 yards, and probably less than that.  I’d use a low-power scope (maximum 5x) if indeed I used a scope at all — and I’m pretty sure a red-dot scope would do the trick, instead of a crosshair or mil-dot reticle.

Remember that most of the time, you’re shooting at a side plate-sized target, and as such, a 3-MOA sighting group would be more than adequate.

Leave the sub-1″ stuff to the target professionals, and let’s not even begin to talk about the ultra-long distance 1,000 yard shooting.  That’s sniper-grade accuracy, and 99% of all riflemen aren’t snipers or even close to being snipers.  Hell, at my very best I wasn’t a sniper, mostly because of my crappy eyes.  But I was quite a competent hunter.

Know your limitations.