That’s a rack of ultra-fine aged single-malt scotches. It had wheels, so you could take it with you, heh heh. I was such a redneck, I just wanted to drink the Scottish beer (and I did), but I did suck down a few shots 20 year-old Lachglenmorangivet in deference to my hosts, and we did indeed have haggis that night, and they had some dude come in and recite some Burns for us as a sort of blessing, Charles. That might even have been the name of the tune…The Blessing of the Haggis.

Needless to say, I never felt more at home outside of the Great Republic of Texas. Golfing, boozing, fishing, crappy weather, a gajillion newspapers…far too cold, though, especially in a skirt.

Ah, here we are — An Address to a Haggis. I’ve eaten worse, and it wasn’t that bad, and the poor bastards are hamstrung by a lack of native chilis.

I had two Guinnesses backed with two shots of Jameson.

I hate to say it, but I’m drunker than I expected. I’m a Scot, not a mackerel-snapping Irish. Irish make me tired with all their talk talk talk. But I have no probken with the idiots taking advantage…I just need to figure out a way to take advantage of the idiots taking advantage.

Some things need to be preserved in amber for my descendants. This here’s one:

Why are they doing it? In a presidential election year, you have to ask? Your Curmudgeon is never surprised when a prominent politician cooks up a new “crisis” in a year divisible by four. The Pandering Steeplechase never actually ends, but the jockeys go to their crops most ardently in a quadrennial year. If they don’t have a ready-made rationale, they’ll synthesize one out of whatever’s available.

The Curmudgeon Emeritus is rarely misaligned with The Fat Guy, and he’s a superiour writer who never fails to show his work.

Kim du Toit’s Crossing America Challenge

The Challenge:

You have the opportunity to go back in time, arriving on the east coast of North America circa 1650, and your goal is to cross the North American continent alone, taking as much time as you need. When/if you reach the opposite coastline, you’ll be transported back to the present day.

Your equipment for this journey will be as follows (taken back in the time capsule with you):

* enough gold to buy a horse and a mule (or two horses / two mules, whatever), and provisions for the first five days’ travel;
* a small backpack containing some clothing and toiletries;
* a winter coat, raincoat and two pairs of boots;
* waterproof sleeping bag;
* an axe, a large sheath knife, a smaller blade, and a “toolkit” knife like a Swiss Army or Gerber Multitool;
* a box of 1,000 “strike anywhere” waterproof matches;
* a topological map, binoculars and a compass;
* a very small toolbox, including a firearm cleaning kit and a few spares for your firearms;
* and a U.S. Army First Aid kit.

Weapons:

* ONE long gun (and 800 rounds, but no scope)
* ONE handgun (and 1,000 rounds)

That’s it.

The question: which long gun, and which hand gun would you choose to take with you?

#1, I would be in absolutely no hurry to reach the west coast and be transported back into 2008, except to see my kids again. But I also reckon I could make my peace with them before I jump into the transporter, and I could figure out a way to signal them from three and one-half centuries ago and make sure that they invested in Google and bet on the Bosox to win the World Serious.

#2, my choice would again be the venerable .44 as the caliber for both long- and handgun. I see not much need for anything more involved than a standard lever-action Winchester carbine, and a thumbbuster Colt SAA model, both with fixed sights. I haven’t fixed on the mix between .44 Magnum, .44 Special, and .44 birdshot-snakeshot-mercury-laced-lead-bullet. But I can tell you that I’d be perfectly happy with naught but .44 mag. Yes, the random rabbit I have to shoot for food might require two rabbits being lined up perfectly for a decent meal, but this is 1650 North America. Food just isn’t going to be a problem, what with all the other supplies. Besides, who wants to kill, gut, skin, and cook a rabbit every damn day when there are 500 billion bigmouth bass ain’t never seen a lure? Freaking whitetails will probably be walking up to you begging to have their throats cut, too. No, your problem is defense, and large game for when you’re tired of bass.

#3, there are some really interesting combos in the comments.

#4, if I were forced into seperate ammunition camps, then it would be the .308 for the rifle, and the .44 for the pistola. The rifle would be the Steyr Scout if money was no object. And I’d probably stay with my trusty Ruger Super Blackhawk for the hand, but I’d want some bad-ass grips on it. Like, bois’d'arc, or something that just didn’t wear. Ivory would be good. I’d be tempted to go with a 12 guage shotgun as the long gun, too. Lots and lots of things can be done with the 12ga.

Hmmm…seems like all I’m missing from this list is the Steyr Scout (duh) and the .44 lever-action carbine.

And, really now, who’s guaranteeing that you’re not going to have to walk across America in 2008, anyway? That would be a good game, too, and it’s something worth throwing into the pot.

Today, I learned QuickBooks. I also re-learned why I both detest and admire Intuit. That was the first half of the day. The last half of the day, as counted by hours since awakening and expected to increase percentage-wise, has been spent entering mundane administrivia into Quickbooks. If I had to guess, I’d say that between government regulations and accounting, there are about 100 billion reasons not to ever even consider starting your own business. From scratch. In your garage. Nope, keep working for The Man, draw that salary, suck up those benes. It is fantastically easier.

I’m taking a break by looking at Toughbooks and their ilk. The state of ruggedized touch-screen technology is very sad. The mobile PC market has been practically abandoned, a virtual ghost town, with the advent (and adoption) of smartphones and telephonic PDAs. So these producers get ginormous margins on their stuff. And it’s stuff I need. Can I get net-30 on that, Mr. Panasonic? I’d suggest a ruggedized PDA, but I cringe at the thought of the price of such a beast.

If I do that, too, I’m thinking of going back to the enormous desktop tower PC as the TFG Mainframe, but this time running Linux. They’re now much quieter, somehow, and cloud computing has changed the game completely. I can almost run any operation from a Treo (and you iPhone nerds can just go worship Little Stevie some more and not comment here) these days.

I did get in a brief nap during the rain-delayed and rain-shortened Bristol Busch race. I’m tired of all the Cup drivers hogging up the limelight over there and in the trucks. I understand why they do it…if they ran lawnmower races on those tracks, I’d sure do it so I’d know the track felt. Still, I kinda want to see some new faces and hear some new stories. This will tell you how much my teevee diet consists of SpeedTV, too…can we let Kenny Wallace into the circus somewhere? There’s never been a more boring ‘personality’ consistently taking up air-time, and that guy wants nothing but an Audience. I reckon six-years olds and their parents will be acceptable to him.

There’s Tejano music wafting in through the window - welcome to Bexar Co. Or as I like to call it, Mexico Jr.

How It Works: The Airborne Laser Cannon | Popular Science

Boeing’s new laser cannon can melt a hole in a tank from five miles away and 10,000 feet up—and it’s ready to fly this year

My gosh, but that is just awesome as hell.

…that rare reader but frequent (and welcome) commenter Charles Austin just tonight, in a brief burst best measured as bottle of wine, has exceeded his entire blogging output for 2006-7.

I thank our beneficent Lord for RSS.

Jumping Haysus on A Pogo Stick. I wander in to find that

• The Federal Government of These Here United States is bailing out a GDMFSOB investment bank? How about we let the business fail, if they’re run so damn bad? Or is this an all-callers bailout?
• The American dollar is below that of the Swiss franc, and we all know we can turn to the Swiss in times of need.
• The RNCC treasurer has pocketed, with vengeful fraudulence, $1,000,000.
• The Democrats STILL can’t get their shit together about delegates from two of the larger states in These Here United States.
• Somebody besides me and a hundred other poker players realized that the revenooers are looking at your bank accounts.

Is your gunpowder dry? Because, I gotta tell you, there’s not one bit of that that smells good about either the Republic given to us by the Founding Fathers, or for the wheezing, decrepit political parties that have hived off increasingly small and ridiculous…well, I can hardly call them leaders, can I?

Drudge makes millions per year for that kind of thing. A picture of a cute actress, juxtaposed with a picture of a furry flying mammal, and a link to a limey tabloid.

I kneel. Who would have ever thought?

Waylon and Travis:

Travis, doing what is a Waylon song:

Fuck, I’m wandering off into mainstream. I’d stick up an Old 97s song here, but everything on the video interweb things sucks, so imagine you’re listening to good old Ken Bethea rip the stuffing out of 504 live, which, I can assure you, was quite wonderful.

So I had a few nips and I got an a George Jones kick:

Simply perfect for me…

Kinda not too far from the mark either…

George and Emmy Lou…fooking priceless, man, priceless.

Damn it all to hell…where did all these guys go?

People ask me, when I get all wound up and start pontificating about music, just what the hell I mean. Here’s a significant part of it, right there on the internets. That’s classic stuff, right there, kids, and it ain’t even scratched the surface, but if you can learn to love the sounds of George Jones, you’re alright in my books. Ain’t nothing changed.

Gary Stewart’s my other boozing favorite…just watch that pedal steel dude’s hands at the beginning, and then listen to just the steel all the way through, if you can find it in you to ignore the world’s most heartbroken man ever. Damn, that’s awesome boozing music. You don’t need no videos, just that voice and that band. Makes me love itunes even more, cuz I can get it all right here in my shirt pocket, heh heh.

Silda Spitzer, Profile of an Accomplished Woman - washingtonpost.com

Like I told some random drunk, you had to know these glowing profiles were on the way. The funny part is that she was one of the advisers advising Whoredog to not cut a deal and resign. Which he promptly did anyway. Me, I think she’s angling for a run at something a year or a few out. It would be a perfect resume for an Obamarica.

Becuase, this is a classic TFG evening. I worked like a dog, from say, 7ish am, till 4ish pm, then I went to have a beer, got involved with a ridiculous literary discussion with a guy, got involved with a political discussion with a guy and a gal, wrote down three hundred to-dos on a bar napkin which now rests before me, and I’ve got a poker tournament to play in, as well as all the damn blogs I like to read, that is to say, I enjoy reading, and I’ve had nothing but sweet booze down my spout since 1ish, and I’m not terribly hungry, but I know I will be around midnight. Plus, two tons of movies sitting in the queue that I could be relaxing over, instead of sitting here typing this and folding. And I really need to go see this guy in the morning to get a low-down on a situation that I might be able to profit from.

I know my father and grandfather didn’t deal with this kind of thing. Why must I? I’m far less equipped to do so than either one of those guys were.

Ach…shoulder to the wheel and nose to the grindstone.

The Great American Blog » Blog Archive » Solving problems with technology rather than law

This is an example of solving a problem through technology rather than by regulation and law, and that’s what we do in networking.

Until you run smack into a guild that’s been protecting it’s own for decades. How information technology avoided it for lo, these many years, I’m quite unsure. I know I thought we could always outrun the collectivists intellectually, and honestly, we have, but check what you’re paying for your iPhone’s data access to a third-world wireless network and how bloody happy you are since it’s blessed by Jobs. Check the a-holes Richard is sparring with.

I predict we, the people, will find the equivalent of the college football coach who first used the forward pass, and the rules won’t catch up until we’re dead. I fear that we won’t bother, though, since so many think this great networked stuff is a birthright, and President Changie McHope will deem it so, and then we’re all doomed.

There’s something beautiful about Marcia Ball followed by Steve Earle followed by The Allman Brothers followed by Justin Trevino. I’m so glad I’m a Texan that I can not only know these guys, but appreciate what they mean in the so-called Grand Scheme of Things.

And I had nothing to do with it…just soaked it all up, where it was, and where I was. It’s silly to even care as I approach 50, but screw it. I love it so much.