The Washingtonian magazine published a piece defending the culture and lifestyle of Washington DC.  They announced their article with this lovely tweet.

Being an ignorant hayseed who has the misfortune to have lived in both Flyover Country and the Deep South, I though I should read this article so that I could understand my intellectual betters, better.

Note to the people in DC: Yes, I can read.  My favorite book is about a character who attempts inveigle the book’s anonymous protagonist into consuming verdant breakfast foods.  It’s quite the nail biter.

First of all, the article was a compilation.  Each of the 13 reasons listed was a separate article written by a different author.

–

Some were pointless:

I make no bones about how I feel about most of what is called art these days.  If Washington DC is not littered with bohemian, hipster, artists who work in poop-smears, that is actually a plus for your city.

–

One missed the point all together:

OK.  The author found six federal employees in DC that actually do some good.  Four of them are scientists or engineers, not typical bureaucrats.  The federal workforce in DC measures at about 47,000 people.  Congrats on finding the 0.013% of federal employees who are worth a damn.  That leaves about 46,994 federal employees in DC who range from worthless to completely-obstructionist-to-normal-life (and yes, I am including POTUS and Congress in that assessment).

–

But two of them really showed some deep and terrible insight into the culture of DC that is the worst combination of elitist and power hungry:

I think the great Milton Friedman said it best when he said “is it really true that political self-interest is nobler somehow than economic self-interest?”

My answer, of course is “no.”  Political self-interest is less noble than economic self-interest.  Why?  Because when I try to make it rich in business, I do so in a free market system in which trade is voluntary.  As a business man, I can’t oppress anybody.  I can’t force or coerce people.  I have to make a product or provide a service that people want, and want to pay me for.  I have to bring value.  I have to create and innovate.

As politician,  to make myself successful, I have to broker power.  To enrich my coffers, I would have to use the power of my office to hinder some at the request of others through regulation.  I create nothing, I only take from some and redistribute to those who support me.  I deal in favors.  My wealth comes from getting to chose who I step on and who I give handouts to.

Obsession with power is worse than obsession with money.  Obsession with power is obsession with control.  It’s the desire to rule over the lives of people.  To bend others to your will with force.  The obsession with money is the love of opulence.  I fear the man who wants to manage the lives of people far more than some mogul on a super yacht spraying his girlfriends with a champagne gun.

Ah yes, paternalism.  Nothing makes me feel more sympathy for my fellow man than my fellow man telling me that he’s smarter than me and that I should be forced to do what he says because he knows what better for me than me.

Don’t take my word for it, take thiers:

“Yes, [DC Bureaucrats] stock-in-trade is abstractions: statistics, seminars, social science. But those abstractions—that out-of-touchness, if you will—are the very things that help our technocrats rise above parochialism. They don’t worry about the effects of policies on their neighbor or on the business around the corner. Sure, our wonks have a point of view, an ideology even. But they cast their arguments in terms of the national interest, and they mean it. If Washington were allowed to make policy—without the heartland and its parochialism getting in the way—we might actually fix this place”

I am a big believer in the value of expertise.  Expertise in a subject is obtained through the combination of education and experience.  Call me cynical, but I had a hard time believing that a bureaucrat in a non-profit, ideological, special interest, think tank; has expertise in whatever field they are trying to regulate.  This is how you get leading presidential candidates pledging to do things that are scientifically impossible.

These people are not experts, they are erudite elitists.  If they really were experts, they’d of been able to predict how changing lending and banking regulations would have resulted in a financial bubble and bust that took out one-third of the money in the economy…and… it’s gone.

The think tank experts told us that we need to stimulate the economy to save jobs.  Turns out the think tank experts were wrong.  The more the plans fail, the more the planners plan.

Sure, the track record of these people is atrocious.  Sure, as soon as you give them the ability to regulate your business (for your own good), they are going to go after your big gulps and texting habits too.  Because they know better.

–

You know what, if the best defense that DC can muster against DC haters is “were power mad, elitists, who want to micromanage your lives, because we’ve gone to a handful of expensive colleges that have told us we’re smarter than everybody else.”  I’m pretty sure that justifies all the hatred DC gets… and more.

When students at Emory University headed to classes Monday morning, they were greeted with a sight that a number of them couldn’t stomach: Numerous chalk messages around the Atlanta campus supporting Republican presidential front-runner Donald Trump.So about 40 students gathered later that day at the school’s administration building to protest the messages and demand help from university officials over feeling “afraid” and “in pain” due to the political messages.

Source: College Students Say They Felt “Afraid” and “In Pain” After Seeing Presidential Campaign Graffiti Chalked On Campus – Daily Headlines

I know that we complain about what is gonna happen to the future, but if you have kids and think about it, they are going to be more than OK. They will probably be in the top rungs of the Future. Why? Well, how are you raising your kids? Precious and delicate snowflakes or self-assured individuals? They are probably polite and taught not to start a fight, but to finish it once it starts. If When the shit hits the fan, it is not going to be the fetal-position-assuming college graduates that will step up to the plate, but those who were taught right from wrong and to do what it takes to protect family and country. Hell, even if we end up a banana country, who will have the balls to start slapping triggered little jerks and tell them to be proper serfs?

There is no such thing as assault with a deadly whine. And “Safe Spaces” ain’t bulletproof.

“Three days ago, there was a gesture of war, of destruction, in a city of Europe by people who don’t want to live in peace,” he said. “Behind that gesture there were arms manufacturers, arms traffickers, who want blood, not peace, who want war, not brotherhood,” he said.In a reference to the Brussels attackers, Francis condemned “those poor creatures who buy weapons in order to destroy brotherhood”, comparing them to Judas Iscariot, the apostle who the Bible says betrayed Jesus for 30 pieces of silver.

Source: Pope condemns Brussels attackers, arms makers at Holy Thursday rite

I can give many people a pass for not knowing the history of Muslim aggression against Christians since Mohamed was pumping goats and 10-year-old girls in the desert, but that the head of the Catholic Church just memory-holes more than a thousand years of facts is beyond redemption.  But that is what you get when Cardinals play the “Whose Turn Is Now To Wear The White Hat” game and we end up with a Che Guevara in robes.

Via Michael Blane.

3).  A terrorist event is not a self- defense shooting.  I cannot understand why so many who should know better insist of treating an event like this…like the Charly Ebdo, the Paris Attack, the Mali Attack, the Jakarta Attack, the San Bernardino Attack…and now Belgium like it was a mugger in a parking lot.  Once the bad guys open the game, in an event like this you are permitted to take it to any level of violence you wish without any concerns of legality or liability.  Say nothing at all…make no announcements…keep calm and shoot them in the face. If you don’t think you can do that, then please get on the ground and out of the way of those who will at least try.

Source: SUAREZ INTERNATIONAL BLOG – ON TERRORISM IN BELGIUM

Go read the whole thing.

Take heed of this advice. There are events that will set you in a position where the standard rules of living in society simply do not apply. Preservation of Life is the main goal and the niceties of a civilized society disappear during this time-frame.  It does not only have to be a terrorist attack, but also a major collapse of social services and the rule of the law such as full-fledged riots that Law Enforcement cannot simply control.

Shit… charging a man with murder in this place was like handing out speeding tickets in the Indy 500.
Captain Benjamin L. Willard. Apocalypse Now.

I blame myself for paying attention to a Facebook ad and buying a book blind:

And I lost $7.00 to boot on the frigging Kindle book. For those who are wondering why I got a migraine:

M4 carbine

Barret M82

And just for added effect, the ammunition they shoot:

And neither come with a walnuts stock nor are designed for them.

I found out the author is a British lawyer who on average are as dumb about guns as your  local journalist.

Yes, I posted this video before, but this version is edited to display its full Mall Ninja power.

And I am just figuring there might be visitors to the blog who know the term “Mall Ninja” but may have not know about Gecko45.
Ladies and gents, click here for the Shrine of the Mall Ninja.

I am working on a couple of long posts and during my research, I bumped into a couple of old friends:

A dissection kit. I and the rest of the kids in class had one like that in high school. You see, it was a mandatory piece of school equipment that we needed to purchase. I had mine stolen by parties unknown and thanks to my father’s business, we knew people in hospitals who directed us to this other kit:

It is called a Necropsy kit and it was of much better quality that the stolen dissection one. I gave mine to my godson when he entered high school and the idiot lost it.

And some of you may be wondering why would a kid would do with such dangerous instruments in school, instruments that in this day and age would prompt the mobilization of the local SWAT team, the Navy SEALs and MSNBC Remote Coverage?

We dissected bunnies for Biology class. Soft fuzzy bunnies were rendered unconscious via ether, sliced open and the internal organs watched functioning under Morpheus’ influence. Then they were given an overdose of ether until they passed out and organs were removed for further close-up study. This was done under the supervision of the teacher who never touched the animals or the tools or the chemicals: we did all ourselves. No gloves, no face masks, no goggles, just a white lab coat and mostly to avoid the inevitable blood splatter from reaching out school clothes and our mothers raise holy hell. I think there was a first aid kit with band aids somewhere in the Biology lab, but memory is not so clear.

I do need to make a correction: The teacher did touch our rabbit. He was showing us the different anatomical parts and using one of the big straight needled as pointer. Remember that the bunny was still alive, lungs collecting oxygen and heart pumping “…these are the lungs, this is the heart and this is the aorta.” Famous words that would remain in my memory still after 44 years because the teacher punctured the aorta and a jet of warm blood hit him right in the eyes. We did the mature thing and laughed our asses out while the teacher tried to wipe his eyes clean and the “anesthesiologist” was trying to avoid being sprayed with blood also. It is amazing how strong the blood flows though that artery! That jet reached at least four feet vertically.

The teacher regained composure and covered the bunny’s open chest with several layers of gauze. Then he directed our “anesthesiologist” to leave the ether on the bunny till it died in its sleep, ordered us to clean the blood from the table and went to wash his face.  As we complied with his instructions, from another table we heard a loud thump, turned around and saw the body slither off to the ground. We initially figured a kid passed out at the sight of bunny organs in display, but it ended up being that the “anesthesiologist” for that table forgot to close the bottle of ether and  inhaled the fumes till he passed out. Next thing we know, we are introduced to something we had only seen in the movies: Ammonia capsules! Dear God on Heaven they stink and so we did what any reasonable young teen would do: When the teacher was not looking, we stole a bunch of them for later misuse. (Note: People may throw up if you shove a broken ampoule of ammonia under their noses while having lunch. Do not ask how I know.)

The class continued. We removed organs, studied them under magnifying glass, took samples with a micrometer (Home made, that was part of the assignment. I aced it.)  and studied those under a microscope and learned the hard way that you do not compromise the intestines of a rabbit because the insides stink worse than the ammonia. Most importantly, we learned. Nobody got stabbed or punctured by anybody. I don’t even remember if anybody had a self-inflicted wound of any kind, I know I did not and I was a total klutz with sharps back then. We washed our instruments in alcohols, dried them up with paper towels, put them back in the cases and the case went into our bags. Nobody thought about pulling them out during recess or another class. They went home with us and relegated to a corner of our rooms till they were required to be used again.

Now imagine having 20 kids loose inside a lab with a live rabbit, ether and very sharp instruments on this day and age. No, I can’t either. The kerfuffle would make national news and congressional hearings demanded, PETA would be camped outside the Principal’s office and Bloomberg would create Moms Demand Action For Scalpel Safety group.

Old times…