Smoke on the Water

Prime (minister) Time

We've seen this before.

And we've seen what weakness and appeasement accomplishes.  Not a damned thing, and a lot of it.

Four hundred and forty-four days worth, thanks to the detestable peanut farmer who once befouled the esteemed Office of the President of the United States.

Such were some of the earlier salvoes of the present Terroist Wars, which have continued unabated to this day.

Many lessons were supposed to have been learned from fiascos such as the Iranian Hostage Crisis, Reagan's rout in Lebanon, the shameful failure of Clinton and all-too-weak State Department resulting in Blackhawk Down, and countless other capitulations and concessions to the thugs of the mullahocracies. 

Conversely, we thought we'd learned the lessons of strength in the face of terror; witness the lack of any effective attack upon U.S. shores for the past five years.

The only thing theose pedophile worshipping cowards truly understand is a boot pressing their face to the ground.  Instead, we have an elegantly coiffed socialist massaging their tender feelings with a fuzzy-house slipper, threating them with with talk of talk, and more talk.

Talk, talk, talkety talk-talk.

Bullshit!

What 10 Downing St. should have said, but didn't.

Recently, elements of the Iranian Navy prosecuted an illegal assault, taking captive and thus kidnapping fifteen Royal Navy sailors who were lawfully conducting their assigned duties while in recognized Iraqi waters.

This was verified by GPS data as transmitted by the Royal Navy detachment at the time of their capture, as well as by the inept Iranian boatmen who perpetrated this criminal act.  That the Royal Naval detachment was clearly in Iraqi waters is only disputed after the fact by Iran's publishing a secondary, fraudulently altered set of GPS coordinates, and by those sympathetic to Iran and other enemies of freedom.

Now, Iran has threatened to try these Royal Navy sailors.  Such theatre has been Iran's forte', ever since they seized the U.S. Embassy in the '70s, holding that institution's staff hostage for some 444 days.

Britain will henceforth not countenance such affrontery.

That Iran possesses at all any semblance to a functioning navy is in no small part due to the patience and tolerence of Britain and the United States. 

In the past few decades, Iran has fielded terror raids in the Persian Gulf, dispatching armed Boghammer speedboats to interdict shipping in the Straits of Hormuz, and posting and using Silkworm anti-ship missles along their coats for the same purposes.

Coalition forces faced down these Iranian threats in years past, but have never taken the next logical step, the elimination of Iran's ability to project power in the Persian Gulf.

Such restraint is will end in 72 hours time, unless the fifteen Royal Navy sailors in question are released at once, being immediately transported via Iranian Naval corvette to GPS coordinates which the Royal Navy shall convey to the Iranian Navy within the hour.

If, at the end of seventy-two hours from the conclusion of this statement that those sailors are not returned as demanded, the Royal Navy, in coordination with and the assistance of the United States Navy, will systematically destroy and sink every Iranian naval asset larger than a life preserver.

Further, we will eliminate every Silkworm installation on the Iranian coast, and yes, we are monitoring those sites even now, and will destroy that equipment regardless if Iran leaves it in place, or moves it inland in an attempt to preserve those weapons.  Make no mistake, they will be destroyed if the timely return of our sailors is not effected at once.

Iran can avoid further conflict and preserve her Navy by simply returning our fifteen sailors. 

And, should (God Forbid!), Iran both fail to effect that return, and then bring any sort of harm to them in retaliation for Britain enforcing her sovereign will, then I shall ask of Parliment to declare that we are in fact at war with Iran, and will prosecute that war unto the unconditional surrender of the Iranian government.

Inasmuch that mere words have none of the effect of a diplomatic warning of even seventy years ago, it is necessary to convey our seriousness by more than a mere ambassadorial note.  Therefore, I have directed that aviators of the Royal Navy mine the approaches to the port of Shaheed Beheshti. 

This action has been completed during the course of my statement today.

The clock is ticking, and of course, the world is watching.  Iran now has the power of peace in her hands, having only to return our sailors to us within the specified time.  And, peace will remain.

But inasmuch that Iran has percipiated an act of war with their actions regarding our sailors, Britain will but reply in kind.  To do otherwise is only to encourage futher aggression by Iran, and I will not go into history as Chamberlain, embracing a peace that isn't, thus guaranteeing a war which might yet be averted.

I ask the prayers of all in the Commonwealth.

God save the Queen, and may God Save Brittania.

I wouldn't hold my breath watching for such a speech, but I'd stand and cheer if Blair manned-up and gave one like that.  And regardless of the screams from Outer Moonbattia, I'd bet that the larger portion of Western Civilization would, too.

Sooner or later, either a U.S. President, a British Prime Minister or even the Austrailian P.M., is going to be faced with the need for such a statment.

I pray they don't shrink from the moment, as Blair seems to be doing now.

God Save the Queen ain't the half of it.

God Save us all from the appeasears.

Freedom Times Ten

Having survived my recent computer outage, I shall now try to make amends by telling the tale of Sunday last; the weekend of March 18th, 2007.

On this date, I enjoyed the distinct honor of joining with nine other fellow Texans for a period of some twelve hours.  A long day given to a serious course of study, which included both practical and written tests. 

But before I get to the details of the day, first, I need to give some details of context.  You see, one thing I've never before discussed on Smoke on the Water is just what it is I do for a living.  And now, context demands that I do so.

I'm not ashamed of my job, but I have always wished for a smidge of privacy online, a bit of circumspect anonymity if you will.  But now, I do believe that the praise due to my employer far outweighs any professional modesty on my part.

So, with no further ado, let me introduce you to Gene Hamon Ford, in Texas City, Texas.

 

The Hamon family has owned and operated this dealership continuously for a good fifty years.  Though Gene Hamon passed in the '70s, his two surviving sons, Tomy and Jerry Hamon still put in long, full workdays at the delearship.

I've been in automotive sales since 1999, and I can unequivocally state, that this is the finest dealership, for both customers and employees, that one can imagine.  No "freeway store" crap here, just three highy experienced new-car salesmen and two similarly well-seasoned gentlemen in the used car department.  I would not want to work anywhere else.

Moreover, the Hamon brothers are hunters and outdoorsmen of the first order. 

And first-class citizens to boot.  So much so that when some weeks back, I had requested of Tomy Hamon the privilege of using the store's conference room to host a Texas Concealed Handgun license course, that he immediately and enthusiastically gave his approval. 

But when the sign-ups for the class quickly exceeded that small-ish meeting room's capacity, I was a bit trepaditious in asking Tomy if we could set up in the showroom instead.

I needn't have worried; he green lighted that just as readily.

For those of you not so favored as to live in the Lone Star State, an aside about a vestigal blue-law from times past.  An automobile dealer can elect to be open on Saturday or Sunday, but not both.  And given that the long work weeks in the car buisness usually include Saturdays, the result is that we had the facility available on a Sunday for our use.

And use it we did. 

Although we had amassed a sign-on of some eighteen people for the class, due to this n' that, we ended up with ten attendees.  So, moving three cars out of the showroom, we set up our tables, kicked-in the turbo on the coffeepot and the class did indeed come to order at 08:00 hrs, sharp.

Tom Estep, our instructor, holds many NRA instructor ratings, and is one of the original State of Texas certified CHL instructors.  And, one of the best.  Without going into details, Mr. Estep has "seen the elephant" in his military days and can speak authoritatively on the human reactions to stress, use of force and the aftermath thereof.

Moreover, Tom is without a doubt the most highly prepared CHL instructor one can expect to meet.  Truly a turn-key class, with all photos and fingerprints completed in short order.   And given that he brings about a dozen loaner guns with him, ranging from a .380 Bersa to several .45 Kimbers and Glocks.... well, you can't come from his class blaming your failure on him or his similarly able (and qualified) staff. 

Which staff happens to be his daughter, Tammy Estep-Padgett.

Suffice to say that all points of law were well an amply covered; Tom goes quite a bit further than the State requires, delving deeply in to what it is to carry concealed in the real world, and what real world expectations and experiences tend to be.  The questions flowed freely, and the answers were given thorougly, but with a humilty and lack of bombast or bull-headed opinionation which would astonish the average GFW.

Needless to say, everyone passed both the written and practical exams.

I apologize for having failed to bag some photos of the class in session while in the showroom.  Blame my preoccupation with setting up, and then being very into the class and information therein.  Mea Cupla, Extremis!

Here's the crew:

I Really, Really Didn't Wanna

But I Really, Really Had To.

So, you look and wonder why it is that Smoke on the Water has been so sporadic of late?  Well, there are many reasons, but none so critical as to my presence here as the possession of a reliable, working computer.

Which has increasingly been the issue lo, these past few months.

Given budgetary constrictions, bad timing and other of life's priorties, I have found it more expedient to have purchased second hand or refurbished computers over the past few years.  In fact, the last new computer I bought was the very first computer I'd ever bought.

In 1985.  It was a genuine IBM PC, featuring DOS 2.1, 640k of RAM and a (then) astonishing 20mb hard drive.  And the Princeton Graphics amber monitor was the monochrome pinnacle of the day.  That, and an OkiData wide-carriage dot-matrix printer.  With the software suite that I bought for re-selling to a very narrow target market.  Which I did well for a year, before IBM insidiously undermined their Value Added Retailer agreements, way back when.  Amazing what little one got for $5,500 dollars twenty-two years ago, eh?

Anyway, fast foward to the present.

My aging, refurbished Toshiba laptop had come to me with a recurring problem, that is, that the screen would go black, even though the machine was fully functioning otherwise.  After having replaced two successive LCD screen illuminators, it was determined that those were not the true cause of casualty.  Rather, it was the laptop's internal video card which generated the electrical fault that did-in the LCDs.

Said video card just wasn't worth the cost of repair.

So, meet the New Boss, same as the Old Boss.  On the left, the new Toshiba A135 duo-core Centrino.  1gig RAM, 120mg HD, and all the other bells n' whistles, etc. ad nauseum.  (can you tell I'm not really a 'puter geek?)  The thing came loaded with Wild Bill's newest Vista Home Premium operating system.  Which I'm still trying to come to terms with, but anyway...........

And on the right, ye olde Toshiba XP beastie.  It's still a working 'puter, albiet one in need of an external monitor.  It's future will thus call for it to be configured as the CPU in a desktop-type arrangement.

I've still many files to transfer to get things fully under way, but at least for now, things are looking up.

Oh, and the cost?  Just over 10% of what I'd spend way back in '85.

Amazing.

Now, let's hope for a good week at work so I can refill yonder piggy bank.  That's one awfully skinny looking pig these days.

The Origin and Anguish of Soul

You may remember when Dana first started blogging as an "offspring" of Smoke on the Water.  Having read of this young lady's growth and progression in life has been at times sad, but mostly, inspiring, as she's overcome just about every obstacle imaginable.

And now, sadly, that which should have been unimaginable, has manifested it's ugly presence in her life.  The price is her marriage, home and security.

A great price, but not so great a price as her life.

The Origin of Soul was shut down some months ago, as Dana sought to reduce her "find-ability" insofar as a very dangerous paternal figure in her life crossed the line, from antagonist to stalker.

And so, the Origin of Soul became Frankensoul, and then finally, The Juggler's Mistress, entitled "Mia" on my blogroll.  But you may of course now know that it's Dana at that keyboard.  Her most recent post is "The Shit Has Hit The Fan''.

Indeed, it has.

Her soon-to-be-ex-husband now stands charged with placing her life in peril.  By her direct request, I give you the story in Dana's own, unedited, words:

Different, by Design

Even though I served but one hitch in the USAF, I did grow up in a family with a rich military heritage.  My Dad is a retiree from 24 years of U.S. Naval service, the bulk of it in submarines.  My late uncle, a U.S.A.F. test pilot; felled long before his time by the family curse, a bum ticker.

I've got relatives who've done Army time, and my maternal Grandfather was a Marine veteran of the bananna wars in Nicaragua. 

I know the voice of authority.  I've given orders, and have obeyed far more orders than I have conveyed. 

The military is not only a different organization, it is an entirely different society, culture and mindset.  Which, is why the average civilian can never comprehend the fraternity which is the Brotherhood of Arms.  Hell, they can't even grasp the depths of their ignorance of the military, period.

Raging Dave has written a bit on the topic, and I commend his thoughts to you.  Read, as they say, the whole thing!

So, in all the debate over gays in the military, one comment left by our polite commenter kinda jumped out at me, and I'd like to devote a post to my response. The comment was (and I'm paraphrasing here) "It's time for the military to play by the same rules as everybody else."

And I'm going to have to respectfully disagree.

The military is unlike any other job, situation, or lifestyle that you can find, except for perhaps the police and firefighters. Our job is to walk into hell and start pissing on the flames to put them out. And whenever you do that, somebody is going to get burned.

And the left is, as always, steadily roasting our troops with talk of defeat, withdrawl, cuts in funding and the traitorous undermining of the Commander in Cheif of the Armed Forces. 

I find it ludicrous that the very leftards who claim to support the troops, specifically do not support the opinions of those troops when it comes to military policy.

Keep that dichotomy in mind the next time you hear various and sundry liberals traitors as they continually wax ignorant on topics martial.

Doings and Writings

So as usual, I'm the usual number of weeks behind the power-curve in the blogosphere.  You oughta be used to that from me, by now!

But the time off screen has not been time spent in vain.  Pursuant to the imperatives of (the pending) H.B. 1022, I have elected to effect an early B.A.G. day purchase.  More details later...but it is in 7.62x51, and it'll arrive at my local shootery this coming week.

Feinstein and Boxer can choke on it.....literally or figuratively; I care not!

Second, this coming Sunday will see the culmination of many weeks of effort.  Let's just say that the Nation of Riflemen is increasing, no matter what the freedom-hating libtards of the Brady left might wish to the contrary.  We're increasing, and we're going to continue to do so as long as I have one remaining breath.

Only an armed populace can stand against the onslaught of not only leftism, but their ongoing appeasement of the jihadist.  We've seen how that plan is working for 'em in Europe.... I'll be damned if it plays for 'em here.

To that end, even though I'm late to the party, I want to introduce to you Sgt. Major J.D. Pendry.  The good Sergeant saw fit to pen one of the finest rants against this nations' fifth column of liberals traitors that I've ever read.  But, before I give you that link, I'm going to give you his follow-up to the original.  Read them in the order I'm giving to you, i.e; reverse order, to fully grasp what it is he conveys.

From his follow-up:

Hate-mailers categorize you in order to bolster how they think.  Mostly, mine begin by calling me a neo-con, Democrat hating Republican partisan.  I’ve even been accused of being invented by desperate Republicans.  As they read, they failed to see the common thread that’s so obvious.  The people addressed in the article have by their words and actions brought harm to the military throughout their political careers.  It isn’t my fault that they happen to belong to the Democrat party.  I can only conclude that people who can’t see that must agree with those mentioned who disparage members of the Armed Forces and Veterans.  So, am I a partisan?  Yes, if serving members of the Armed Forces and Veterans are a party, then I’m a partisan.

I'll tell you this much.  Thats one Sgt. Maj. who will never have to buy his drinks in my presence.  Ever.  From his original tome:  "On Your Hands", first published on June 24th, 2006.

This excerpt resonates now, every bit as clearly is it did on the day he first posted it:

Harry Reid, Nancy Pelosi, Carl Levine, Barbara Boxer, Diane Feinstein, Russ Feingold, Hillary Clinton, Pat Leahy, Chuck Schumer et al ad nauseam.  Every time you stand in front of television cameras and broadcast to the Islamic Nazis that we went to war because our President lied.  That the war is wrong and our Soldiers are torturers.  That we should leave Iraq, you give the Islamic butchers – the same ones that tortured and mutilated American Soldiers  - cause to think that we’ll run away again and all they have to do is hang on a little longer.

Which is all the more reason for us to be rallied, to be loud, to be armed, each of us.  We can not be Europe, we can not appease, we must not capitulate.

We will not submit.

Ever.

A Dog Returns to it's Vomit

Shouldn't be too surprising...........