The Wood Shed

I’ll defer to the Pinch who found it first: Touching History.

Short version: 9/11 as it played out in the skies, the aviators’ perspective.  Losing sleep on this one for several reasons not the least of which is that it is very well written.

Tim Russert’s untimely death is upsetting on so many levels.  He was an outstanding journalist in a field that demands honor and integrity yet we rarely see it.  Tim asked the tough questions but he did so in a civil, professional manner.  He was the only political analyst I would watch.  I trusted him, counted on him to make sense out of the system when it seemed nobody else could.

This will be a complicated election compounded by the fact that Tim won’t be in the middle of it.  The contenders are both claiming they are right and the other is wrong.  Statements made and misinterpreted or maybe spun in a way never intended.  How will we know the truth?  Who will referee the game?

His death serves to remind us just how fragile life can be.  Tim lived a full life by anyone’s standards but he wasn’t done yet, he was just getting started.  He made our lives better by challenging us to be better citizens, by pushing our political leaders to be accountable, and by insisting on journalistic integrity.  He made us better Americans.

He loved his family and truly loved our country and its political process.  He will be sorely missed and I hope that Meet the Press will continue his legacy of asking the tough questions in a fair non-partisan manner.

In honor of Tim Russert who loved being a son and a father more than anything else, happy Father’s Day.

ATLANTIC OCEAN (May 28, 2008) Sailors assigned to the guided-missile destroyer USS Winston S. Churchill (DDG 81) conduct a refueling at sea with a stranded British sailboat in the Atlantic Ocean. U.S. Navy photo by Chief Intelligence Specialist Kenneth Anderson (Released)

Sailors?  The ones on the big grey boat - yes.  The ones on the sailboat - not really.  This photo and the accompanying caption struck me as funny for several reasons.  The Navy PAO says the Brits were stranded.  Out of fuel to be sure but not exactly stranded.  Pull on the lines and run up the laundry.  Judging by the sea state and light breeze on the water they wouldn’t have gone anywhere quickly but they would have made it eventually.  Generally speaking, no fuel on a rag-bagger means you have no means of recharging your batteries or refrigeration so all your gadgets will start going to sleep and you’ll have to rely on canned or dry goods.  Given the modern world’s addiction to GPS there is a good chance they would have made landfall a few miles off their intended destination.  Were I in their shoes I would much rather be out of fuel than fresh water!

and don’t forget why we have Monday off.

To go boating!

Hamas endorses Obama.  Just goes to show you can’t always pick your friends.

On Sunday, Aaron Klein and John Batchelor interviewed Ahmed Yousef, chief political adviser to the Prime Minister of Hamas, on WABC radio. The interview produced a scoop which, for some reason, has not been widely publicized: Hamas has endorsed Barack Obama for President. Yousef said, “We like Mr. Obama and we hope he will win the election.” Why? “He has a vision to change America.” Maybe Yousef has some insight into what Obama means by all these vague references to “change.”

More from Power Line.

It’s not clear to me what Hamas likes about Senator Obama but my spidey-sense is pegged.

Spider-Man’s Steve’s “spider-sense” manifests in a tingling feeling at the base of his skull, alerting him to personal danger in proportion to the severity of that danger. It appears to be a simultaneous, seemingly clairvoyant response to a wide variety of phenomena.

 Back to 5.2

 They were so close. They had the weapons, the nuclear engineer, and the boats. In a few days the entire package would be loaded again and headed for America. Alberto could now visualize his dream: the collapse of the United States. The coordinated attack would accomplish what September 11th had not. An attack on such a massive and catastrophic scale that America would rip itself apart from the inside. Chaos, confusion, and hysteria would cause the government to collapse and the economy to crumble. Paralysis of the brain and heart would poison the giant and bring it to its knees. Armed citizens would attack Arab and Muslim neighborhoods and mosques which in turn would awaken the Jihadists buried deep in the flesh of the giant. These Jihadists were not imported terrorists that had penetrated America’s borders. They were of the next generation. Most had been born in the United States and educated at the top universities. All made possible by the enormous generosity of the Saudi Wahabis. Americans were so stupid, so blind when it came to money, power, and oil. Their downfall had been planted in plain sight and nurtured all along by the same Arabs that created the energy shortages of the 1970’s and OPEC. How could they not see it coming? First the Arabs choked off the flow of oil just to prove they had control and then they became America’s strategic ally in the Middle East. All the top academic institutions rushed to develop programs on Middle Eastern Studies because the politicians and bureaucrats of tomorrow must be educated on the ways of the Middle East. The Saudis, anxious to solidify their status with the US Government, funded most of these programs and even sent professors to staff them. Jihadists teaching the infidels and controlling the information about global jihad to manipulate the system from within. It was an ingenious plan but it was such an obvious Trojan Horse that it never should have succeeded. And it would not have but for one thing: cheap oil. A reliable, cheap source of oil was the drug that blinded the addict. Now many of these students had graduated and were employed within the government. They were not terrorists in the classic sense but they had been indoctrinated in such a way throughout the educational process that the sight of Infidels attacking Muslims in the streets of America would awaken most of them to the cause and they would rise up. Islam would rule the world as the prophet Mohammed had predicted.

Alberto stepped out into the early dawn for a smoke. He looked up at the fading stars and wondered about paradise. Would it be worth it? He shook the thought from his head as he scanned the area looking for anything out of the ordinary, something that was not as it should be. He found nothing. The port was starting to come to life. He flicked his cigarette out on the concrete, took another look around and went back inside the warehouse.

A truck arrived and after a minute or two one of the roll-up doors opened. Herut had a good angle from his observation post in the vacant building across the way. Through the open door he saw an ambulance. It didn’t make sense but it was there. He went ahead and shot a few images with the digital camera he had positioned on the tripod in his window perch. The images went out in a burst of encrypted energy from his laptop to Mossad Headquarters via a satellite uplink.

The gun control lobby, by their own admission, hasn’t been able to actually control guns to the degree they hoped.  Unable to restrict the purchase and ownership of firearms, the advocates for an unarmed populace have turned their efforts to the ammunition.  There is a movement afoot in Alabama, Mississippi, and several other states, to enact laws that require each bullet to be engraved with a serial number.  Don’t bother stockpiling supplies of your favorite calibers because should these bills actually pass, you’ll be required to surrender all unnumbered ammo.

When I first read the email concerning this measure I didn’t think it was possible that the Alabama State Legislature could seriously be considering such a bold measure but then again this is the same bunch that has engaged in fist-fights, tantrums, and generally wasted time with senseless filibusters for most of their regular session.  This is real.

Legislation (SB 541) that would mandate, as early as 2009, bullet serialization — the process by which each individual round of ammunition is identified and marked with a laser-engraved serial number — has been referred to the Alabama State Senate Judiciary Committee.

More here.

Anyone with a basic understanding of firearms knows that once a bullet is fired through a rifled barrel and impacts anything of substance it bears little resemblance to its original form. The likelihood that a laser engraved serial number could be recovered from a fired bullet is minuscule. This bill is a blatant waste of time and money authored and supported by people that I’m ashamed to admit this state elected. Stupidity.

If you’re local, please contact the individual who sponsored this insanity and let him know what you think about his efforts:

mailto:rodger.smitherman@alsenate.gov

Thanks to Walt for the tip. Scary stuff right here at home!

Cool shot!

KEY WEST, Fla. (April 29, 2008) A Sailor stationed at Naval Air Station Key West spots a rare rainbow halo in the skies over the air station. According to the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, the halo, which typically indicates rain is on the way, is a ring of colored or white light that encircles the sun when seen through a cloud of ice crystals. U.S. Navy photo by Mass Communication Specialist 2nd Class Timothy Cox (Released)

The continued quest for a Junior Hunter title on the Moose took us over to Flora, MS for the weekend.  All things considered it was partially successful and amusing as hell.  He passed both the land and water series on Saturday under less than optimal conditions: driving rain and wind.  The hunt test was stopped several times to allow lightning to pass through the area.

The weather didn’t bother him nearly as much as it did me.  He doesn’t mind being soaked to the core.  He was so fired up when I sent him after the first bird that he let out a deep “woof” as he charged from the line flinging mud over my head.

Sunday the weather was much better but he never saw the second bird on the land series.  He heard the thud when it hit the ground but never had a chance to mark the fall.  I was watching the action on the field but kept his head in my view so I knew he hadn’t seen it but was hopeful that he would “get the chicken to hand” anyway when his head snapped back left drawn by the thud.  When I released him he split the difference between the first fall that he had already picked up and where the sound of the second had come from.  He went tearing down the field and I had hopes that his nose might pull him left but the slope and the attraction of a spot he knew to be productive drew him back to the old fall.  Twice just to be sure.  After about five minutes at full speed, nose in the grass, he picked his head up and came charging back to the line.  Twenty feet short of giving up he slammed on the brakes, did a 180, and pushed up the hill to continue searching.  He finally located and retrieved the bird but his return trips to the area of the first retrieve DQ’d him.

It was his first stay in a hotel room and within minutes of entering he drank from the toilet and then squared off against his reflection in the full length mirror.  Snoring, bad gas, chasing rabbits in his sleep, and roaming the room at 4:00 am - not the best roommate.  Saturday evening he was so tired he actually fell asleep standing up next to the bed with his head on my arm.