Over $5.00 A Gallon

     I had put off filling up my car.  I started out the non-war war with a full tank and who knew, maybe it would all be over before I ran out.

     It isn't.  I nearly did.  I had too much fun this weekend to remember to get gas, and when I set out for work today, the tank was much lower than I like.  The only name-brand station on my way downtown that I'm comfortable at is at 49th St., and it's rarely the cheapest.

     But an $85.00 refill is painful.  Gotta have it, and it's not like I can't cover the cost, but it's a bigger bite than I'm used to and indications are that the price of oil isn't done going up.  Almost anything that happens in the Middle East right now, especially around Iran, is going to reduce the availability of oil.  Some events will have longer lasting results, but over the next thirty days, you can count on the stuff costing more, even if there's a sudden outbreak of peace, goodwill and brotherhood: damaged refineries and seagoing traffic jams don't get sorted out overnight.

     My present bet is that we're headed for a recession at best.  Oh, our country and the planet keep lurching towards them, and dodging at the last minute by shoving one industry or sector into the mud for awhile as everything else goes roaring past; but sooner or later, someone's going to miss a step, and the damage will become widespread.  Wars, declared or not, have a tendency to break the rhythm.  That can be helpful if things are already really bad; but if they're on edge, not so much.

     Me, I'm going to get my motorcycle tuned up, and shop for saddlebags so it can be more a commuter vehicle.  Mechanic's fees are a one-time cost; gas just keeps on going up.  The motor scooter will follow -- I love it, but 10" wheels and Indiana roads after a harsh winter aren't a great match.  Unlike my car, the motorcycle and scooter will burn regular gas, too.

A Legendary Beast, A Control That Doesn't Exist And A Do-si-do

      Recession!  It's the big new word at present -- but at any given time, you can always find some subset of economists, pundits and politicians who profess to see one on the road straight ahead -- or maybe it's here with us right now!  Oh, noooo!

      There's even an editing war over the word in progress at Wikipedia; people who want us to be in or entering a recession shading, slanting and blowing on the dice, while people who hope we're nowhere near slant, shade and put a thumb on the wheel; you can track it in the edit history and that's a bit of an education in and of itself.

      But a recession is a creature that only shows up in the rear-view mirror.*  They cannot be definitively identified until they are over.  By that time, you are either enjoying the recovery, too busy to bury economists up to their necks in anthills -- or enduring a depression, wondering what kind of second-hand socks make the best soup.

      Recession or not, boom or bust, inflation, stagflation or G-rated flation for the whole family, the blame lands on the President's plate, with a kid's table set for Congress.  Nope, sorry, "The Economy" is not actually a knob on the President's desk.  For most of my life, business was happier when there was a Republican in the White House and they had a majority in Congress, and that often (but not always, hey Mr. Ford?) meant the economy would be good (occasionally on borrowed money, irrational exuberance or the back of a nondeclared war).  The Democrats were not so friendly to business, though they varied widely (and business loathes unpredictability), so times might not be so good, especially for the top ten percent.  But it's all smoke signals and speechifying, occasionally tinkering with taxes.  The Federal Reserve has some control -- but it's crude and laggy at best, and the things they try rarely have the desired effect.

      Republicans were, mostly, pro-business.  Democrats were neutral at best, with strong lean to regulation and hostility.

      That's changing.  The GOP is taking aim at Big Tech, with an eye to breaking them up.  Big Tech is Big Business these days.  And the GOP's become a lot less predictable.  This isn't good news, especially for suits in boardrooms and major stockholders, and that pain trickles down to you, me and the kid stocking groceries every time.

      The Republicans used to be the party of sober men (and very occasionally, women) in office wearing sober suits, speaking soberly about sober issues to one another over five-martini lunches.  The Democrats used to be the "anything goes" party, welcoming shaggy-haired social experimenters with wild ideas and not much cohesion over anything but the lingering programs of FDR's New Deal.  This has changed; we've got more Establishment Dems these days, while the GOP happily embraces fringe thinkers with their own social experiments brewing.  Oh, there are still plenty of stiff-necked country-club Republican politicians, and no shortage of whackjob Democrats with zany notions in and running for office; but the handwriting's on the wall.  There's either a slow turning, or we're going to have loons-in-office on both sides, in numbers large enough to create a cacophony -- and to keep business fretting no matter which bunch is shouting the loudest.  You know who loses in that latter case?  Hint: it's nobody in Washington or on Wall Street.  It's nobody in corner offices or the Oval Office.  It's no one in Congress or the boardroom.  You, me, our neighbors: we get to carry that weight. 

      Saw news the other day that Andrew Yang and a few select friends are forming their very own political party, presumably with blackjack and hookers.  "RT" --the former Russia Today -- is pushing it pretty hard, which tells me everything I need to know about the possible beneficial effects of this development: there aren't any.

      Please vote for sane adults, if you can.  If you can't, picking the least crazy might help.
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* Right up there with hoop snakes, behinders and sidehill cattle.

Goodbye, Tektronix

     Fear not, at least for the short term: Tek is still around.  Okay, fear a little: I'm not sure how serious they are about staying around.

     Tek's flat-rate price to repair and calibrate [REQUIRED TEST DEVICE]: $10,500.00
     Tek's price for a new [REQUIRED TEST DEVICE]:  Well north of...........$20,000.00
     Competing, functional-equivalent [REQUIRED TEST DEVICE], Brand A...$7,000.00
     Competing, functional-equivalent [REQUIRED TEST DEVICE], Brand B...$5,000.00
     Competing, functional-equivalent [REQUIRED TEST DEVICE], Brand B'..$4,995.00

     Our dear old [REQUIRED TEST DEVICE] is broken.  I don't think it will be going back to Tek for repair.  Sure, Tek is good stuff -- but the days when LaVoie could clone one by going just a wee bit cheaper on components are long gone.  Every one of these instruments is one input converter/signal processing board and a big old chunk of software, plugged into an entirely conventional computer.  Our [REQUIRED TEST DEVICE] still runs Windows 95, Tek not making updates readily available (see prices above).  I'll miss it.  It's a neat little package, a rack-mount touchscreen computer with a tiny wee screen about 9" wide. 

     Dear Tek: remember when what my employers do was essentially a license to print money?  Those days are gone.  It doesn't look like they'll be back soon.  We can't drop this kind of money on stuff so far into the technobackground that management will never, ever see it nor understand exactly what it does for them.

     Sic transit gloria geektopia.

Sign Of The Times?

     Woke up this morning and after feeding the cats, took a look out  the window.  Across the street in front of the shoe model's house, on the strip of grass between sidewalk and street, something sizeable was heaped up -- leftover from Friday's trash pickup?  Then it moved and I realized it was a young woman, laying curled up on her side, hands tucked between knees, sleeping rough.

     I wondered if something had gone seriously wrong over there; went to get my phone to call our neighbor, The Democrat, and took another look out a different window.  Yep, still there.

     She was gone by the time I had my phone out and went to take a third look.

     Someone sleeping off a night of excessive revelry?  Roseholme Cottage is a fair walk (and longer stagger) from the bright lights and ready libations of "downtown" Broad Ripple, but it's possible.  Homeless?  Also not impossible.  Runaway?  Maybe.

     Odd.  And a bit worrying. I hope she's all right.

MAYDAY: Federal Reserve

     "Mayday, mayday, mayday.  This is your money, calling mayday.  Location uncertain.  Losing value fast.  Gasbag reinflation attempts have only made situation worse.  Mayday, mayday, mayday. I suspect Navagator Bernanke may have succumbed to hypoxia.  Mayday, mayday, mayday...."

     It is, you know.  May Day, that is.

Sequester, Sequester--

     I'm just not feeling pestered by this supposedly dire threat, or no more than is usual.  Congress and the Executive are playing Chicken again.  Unable to settle on a budget, the two have nevertheless managed to spend money the Feds don't have at unprecedented rates and will keep on doing so even after (or, I suppose one must say, if) the "deep and painful cuts" in everything from Head Start the Department of Defense the sequester invokes take effect.

     In fact, those cuts will hardly slow it down, since big, popular vote-getting programs will scarcely feel the pinch.  Cut back the military and air traffic control and let TV newsies tell you just how much more dangerouser your world is?  Sure thing!  Cut aid to disadvantaged children, who are then used to tug at your heartstrings?  Absolutely!  Touch Social Security?  Er-- Only to the extent of a small furlough for workers.  Medicare will be facing cuts: all of two percent (This source --PDF warning! -- says they're both exempt.)  See, if it'll get a solid chunk of voters riled up, they ain't a-gonna do it.

     Bread.  Circuses are free but oh, the Empire does hand out bread.  We have built our New Rome and now we're stuck in it.

     And it doesn't appear that dancing with bankruptcy even begins to get their attention on the Capitol hill.

     (Bonus!  "Women, poor hardest hit."  Um, duh.  Trot out the widders an' orphans, Senator, and threaten them some more; and could you please 'splain me how it is moral to use a client class largely of your own creation as a hostage to support your unrestrained spending of the funds with which the electorate has entrusted you and continuing to spend long after those monies are gone?)

     ETA: Y'know, it would be paranoid to suggest that Feinstein, et. al. want you disarmed before the bottom drops out -- which the PDF linked above puts at 2027 - 2028 -- but it sure is interesting how Congress has had all manner of free time to spend plotting and attempting to justify infringing a fundamental, Constitutionally-protected right with the sequester rising up before them like a tidal wave.  Priorities send a message.  What does theirs tell you?

Trying To Beat A Boondoggle Into A Boon

     Dateline: Georgia Street, downtown Indianapolis--  It started as a "party street" for the Superbowl, a "pedestrian-friendly connector" between the Convention Center and what was then known as Conseco Fieldhouse (now Banker's Life).  The city spent nearly $13 million on the re-do.   It even had a zipline! Afterwards, the zipline moved on, the fancy boardwalks turned ugly and the city quickly learned it was homeless-friendly, too -- but not especially business-friendly.

     Ooops.  So the bums were out (who're they, to want a place to sit down? Just because the city's got tables and chairs set out for the public!) and it has been floundering around ever since.

     This season's flat, dead fish is called "City Sidewalks."  It's a kind of holiday market, complete with an ice-skating rink.  --Except it hasn't got any ice.  "Leave your skates at home," the thing is made of some high-tech plastic and they'll provide skates.  Yum, shoe-sharing!  (We had high-tech no-ice ice-skating way back when I was a teenager: it was called "roller skating."  But you weren't required to wear pre-sweated shoes if you owned your own).  The city is hoping -- oh, how they hope! -- that it will draw more than flies and bums.

     Good luck.  One pub-owner along the street rates the post-Superbowl venue a "C+" and he's hardly a disinterested observer.

     Your -- or at least my -- tax dollars at work!  It makes me so proud.

Election: Like It or Lump It

     It's what we got.  If Mr. Obama is a dedicated hardcore gun-grabbin' Marxist, you don't need to sound the alarm, he'll go all Shirker's Paradise an' start after your ARK-1547ses.  If he's a fuzzy-philosophied narcissist with jerk friends (like most Presidents), he will continue muddling on, blamin' Big Business and Wall Street (while bailing them out just like he and his total opposite Mr. Bush already did); the fed.gov will continue to have an indefinite-detention prison camp at Guantanamo and the .mil will still be boots-on-the-ground in Iraq and Afghanistan (just like he and his total opposite Mr. Bush already did) and the claimed right to kill anyone, anywhere, by frikkin' robot drones or a uniformed-services guy with a dedicated look in his eye and an M-4 or a long, heavy needle (just like he and his total opposite Mr. Bush already did), possibly based on secret hearings in a secret court (just like he and his total opposite Mr. Bush already did) or possibly mere Presidential whim.

     And you wanna tell me you're all het up about healthcare* and the different-length-fused time bombs of taxes, deficits and Federal entitlements?

     The first would've been a mess either way, just a different kind of mess and a different fight in Congress depending on how the elections turned out.  The problem there isn't the Presidency so much as it was the Senate, where the GOP threw away two seats over the social-conservative non-issue of abortion after having lured themselves into a game of where-to-draw-the-line with pro-choice folks.  Yes, a non-issue: very unlikely to change in the next six years, and certainly a non-issue here in Indiana, where strong pro-life Republican Richard Mourdock lost the Senate race to strong pro-life Democrat Joe Donnelly.  The stink Mr. Mourdock and the biologically ignorant Mr. Aken† gave rise to may have cost their party other seats, too; I'll leave that for the pundigentsia to dope out.

     The other issues are also a mess either way and for blame, you have to go back to FDR and Ponzi.  Like John Maynard Kenynes, they're safely dead and probably sniggering.  No Congress or President can work it out, it still will go over a cliff and the only questions are how soon and how far it will fall.  (At worst, the U.S. will go the way the USSR did; I expect this will happen in my lifetime, probably in time to reduce my retirement savings to wallpaper.  I still don't know if I should work on paying off this house or try instead to buy acreage with a good well, water running downhill, and room for a good-sized truck garden, but I'm going for tangible assets instead of paper and so should you.  You can't eat a 401k.)

     Elections are over, we got what we got, and if there's any true colors to be shown while the leopard refuses to change his shorts, you'll see 'em.  You don't make much headway if you keep riding out night after night claiming "The Brutish are coming!" unless you wait for the light to show in the belfry of the Old North Church.

     No matter who won, the relentless march of the Feds towards a police state would continue unabated -- albeit one with happy-face stickers and some degree and manner of the trappings of the former rule of law.  I have never seen a year when the noose did not grow tighter -- usually in a direction most people either weren't looking or had convinced themselves was oooooo-tay.

     Maybe it's time to re-examine your priorities; I will be checking over mine.  And, Republican Party?  Its not about being "too moderate" or "too conservative" on any conventional axis, it's about the being hit and miss on basic, hardcore issues that directly affect the greatest number of potential voters.  That party has a lot of sorting-out to do and I have no hope it will undertake any of it before the next round -- and until they do, they will continue to lose elections.  (See also: Claire Wolfe.)

     I'm done with 'em.  I'm voting a straight LP ticket.  No more handouts to GOPpers (and the rare Dem) who look as if they might stink a little less bad than their opponent. Might as well lose while backing an ideologically consistent group with real answers; the elephant and the donkey refuse to give up their fairytales, no matter what it costs their parties -- or the country.
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* Which reminds me, if you are pro-life, do not stand there and tell me how you want government out -- totally, completely 100% O-U-T -- of me and my doctor's healthcare decisions, because you don't; you just have a different, shorter list of matters in which the .gov can interfere.  It's smaller but it's still a camel's nose, no matter how much you dress it up.
 
† I suppose it's unfair to single him out; most politicians are ignorant of everything except how to solicit a bribe without saying anything chargeable, accept it gracefully when it arrives, what fork to use and who to use it on, and when to say "ain't."

EU Awarded Nobel Peace Prize: Inside Job

Why not?  After all, our current President won the thing for...um, what, winning the election despite American horribleness? Not being G. W. Bush? (But the Nobel Peace Prize has kind of a history of being awarded to foreign heads of the state the Committee has high hopes for, so that's not so far out of line). --But there was a shark in the road ahead:

     Now, the Nobel committee has handed the Peace Prize to the European Union, on the self-congratulatory assertion that the Continent has, somehow, so far managed to avoid starting yet another big war, despite the Archduke-rich environment and an ongoing economic implosion certain to end in wheelbarrows and/or trillion-Euro pocket change.  A committee chaired, by sheerest coincidence, by Thorbjørn Jagland, Secretary-General of the Council Of Europe, a kind of Neanderthal proto-.gov existing side by side with the EU's Cro-Magnon and, as is typical of the way things run over there,* thoroughly entangled with it.

     It only avoids being a conflict of interest because nobody outside the Nobel Peace Prize Committee is interested any more.

     But these days, the Peace Prize should come with a round red nose and some white grease paint, don't you think?  And maybe they can get someone to repaint The Coronation of Napoleon with Thorbjoern in the starring spot, face painted and in the process of sticking the clown-nose on!

     Self-beclowning: now all Europeanish and coooool.  Gak.
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* Give them this, there's a kind of freedom in getting things so completely snarled up that nobody can sort them out.

They're Doing It To Ecuador, Too

And East Timor, the British Virgin Islands, Panama, El Salvador, the Federated States of Micronesia and several other countries: QE3.  Inflation.  See, they all use the U. S. Dollar as their actual money, though some of them mint their own cent-value-equivalent coins as well; another handful of countries use our dollars alongside their own money at a fixed rate of exchange.  While the various dollar-shrinking tricks the Feds are pulling may not make all that much difference to an Ecuadorian buying Ecuador-made goods in Ecuador, he's certain to feel the pinch when he goes to buy a Japanese TV or a Korean car -- or a celphone made in China.  (And let's not even talk about what it does to the tourist trade in the British West Indies, though you can bet they are.)

     So remind me again how the Administration is such a friend to the little guy internationally?  Pity's sake, not only do the folks in those countries have no more chance to vote on the Great Mind (ahem) in charge of the Fed than we do, they can't even vote on the guy who picks him.

     Best of all?  Some of those countries ended up switching to U. S. dollars after their central bank tried to print its way clear of economic woes.  It's the Wile E. Coyote school of economics: does jumping off a cliff work any better when the cliff is a hundred times as high?

Presidential Debates/Why The Hate?

The next one is the Veep-fest and worth a worry; while I am of the opinion that there are dogs who demonstrate more rationality and foresight than Mr. The Vice-Presidente Joseph R. Biden, there is no denying he's got some fire in his belly and in the well-chewed, sound-bitten world of modern televised Executive Branch debates, that could be a very effective technique, especially if Paul "Maths" Ryan tries to play things too cool and logical.

     It hurts to write that.  I'd rather live in a world where histrionics don't trump doing the math; but it's what we've got.

--

     I'd commented to a co-worker on the President's lack of preparedness for the first debate, adding that "...in fairness, he does have a day job."  No sooner said than I realized he thinks it's campaigning, and that the Presidenting thing is more of a part-time gig: show up, sign a few bills, bow to the king or caliph of Moorishastan and hop back on the campaign bus, totin' the ol' nuclear football just in case something needs blowed up.  It'll be interesting to see how he does in the next meet-up.

--

     ...Around the blogosphere, I've found a few instances of what strikes me as the iceberg-tip of a wider issue: some non-Democrat folks faintly hatin' on Ryan for being the variety of semi-wookie who "hands out copies of Atlas Shrugged."  (It's not just you, Og!)

     I don't get it.  Fine, Rand's got herself a powerful loathe on when it comes to religion (specifically, religion used to justify collectivism and sacrificing the individual to the group); fine, she herself was a quarrelsome old lady and no few of her closest followers tend to emulate that behavior -- but they're pullin' in the direction of a smaller, less-powerful government, one with less ability to mess up people's lives including yours.  How's that so bad?  I'm not an Objectivist and even can count myself among the countless thousands of libertarians who, along with most conservatives, were recently dissed and dismissed by a self-proclaimed Objectivist over at Unk's.  We all need to get over it; it's a big world and people hold all manner of damfool notions.  Pull with the people who are headed the same direction as you and argue over how fast, how far and the best way to hold the rope later: the important thing is to get moving!

     L. Neil Smith writes (with some heat) about the fact that the most bitter opposition comes from the people who are nearly on the same side of politics as oneself.  It's a regrettable truth and one we're going to have to start getting over if we're ever going to amount to more than a herd of cats.  You wanna argue about who's the more right, or do you want to stop getting beat up by collectvists, entrenched Progressives and tax-suckling Congresscritters?

It's The End! The End! Aaaargh!

Stansberry Associates has a new TEOTWAWKI vid out; they were pushin' it on the Ijit Tube this morning. I took a look.

Y'know how it's possible to be right in such a way that it looks like you're full of it? For instance, take a real figure, then say, "But if..." and outline a circumstance that's not gonna happen, like gummints suddenly having to pay the same kind of interest rate as you and me on previously-established debt, and then run with it as if it was the actual number? Yeah. Maybe not a real good way to go if the listener happens to be taking notes. They have a history of tellin' the truth a bit costumed; I'm assuming it's simply a bent for the dramatic.

But here's the thing: the sky really is falling. Uncle Sam's greenbacks are less and less obviously the Very Best Choice and their only saving grace so far is that everything else looks worse. The Euro is busy cuttin' itself off at the knees; Iceland's lookin' not Eurozonewards but West to the Loonie for their new monetary base. And the Fed, well, they have the Mint printing more U. $. Dollars just as quick as they can; more dollars chasing the same quantity of goods and services results in-- What is it called, class?

--It could be a whole lot worse than just your house payment turning into the cost of a case of booze; even if your pay chases within sounding distance of the rate of inflation (don't bank on it) and you own a very fine wheelbarrow, there could be worse in the wings. Right now, most international business is done in dollars. This helps keep our own homegrown currency as sound as -- gee, golly, as sound as the dollar. Everyone uses them; everyone has a vested interest in not lettin' 'em go lighter-than-hot-air and float away.

Alas, if way too many are out there, if the dear old $ gets inflated/devalued enough, no bank in the world will want to be left holding it when the music stops; no sheik or autocrat will price his $NATURAL RESOURCE in bucks if the value of 'em will evaporate before he can direct-dial Rolls-Royce or Bombardier.

There's still no serious contender for replacement; the next-most-traded currencies (Euro, Japanese Yen) aren't exactly in fighting form. But our old pals in Red China have been busy writing about the tottering dollar -- and wouldn't they just love to have banks of the world cherishing colorful Renminbi instead?

And what would that do to the price of all those colorful Chinese imports, from iPhones to Mall-Wart socks?

The punditry will no doubt advise sellin' short and buyin' gold. Me, I dunno; you can't eat it. Brass and lead and Parkerized or blued steel might be more-useful metals. And instead of stocks, we'd likely be better off with goats and chickens, with a garden and the distinctly non-1337 skills it takes to grow 'em up and turn 'em into food. Me, I'm thinking about getting the house re-insulated.

And we'll be wanting some expert advice before things fall apart. Me, I dunno from Wall Street -- I'm more interested in my street.

Funicular? Wilderness Of Mirrors?

I dunno; Federal politics partake of both. Like the funicular (but far less benign), there's a left side and a right side; one's up when the other is down, and they never quite touch in passing (though it's possible to get badly torn up if you get caught in the middle). It travels, but the net motion cancels out.

On the other hand, the amount of mutual dis- and mis-information bandied about makes it generally impossible to be sure of anything but the most banal and inane facts about office-holders and office-seekers. What's true, what's gaslighting, who has his fingers crossed when he says what-- You don't know. You can't know.

Looking at who's running for President -- and who isn't -- I can only conclude the deeper pundits (and perhaps pockets) of both sides have decided the economy is going to tank even worse in the next four years, possibly followed by a nice game of the-center-cannot-hold; the Dems have left a less-than-popular incumbent to take the fall (seriously, have you seen what his own party's Left has to say about the guy?) while the GOP has abandoned the field to a pool of perennial also-rans and perpetual candidates. Other than Mr. Santorum's religious fervor (a bit polarizingly off-kilter for a guy who aims to be President of the entire mixed pot of citizens), the whole bunch of them rate little more interest than "meh."

Their Party seniors can read the wind; what they read, they're not sayin', but what they've left fluttering in the breeze looks more and more like a hurricane flag.

And that's this morning's happy thought. At least I got the link to funiculars in there.

Quick Takes

Very quick -- I had a 4:00 a.m. phone call from work that blew a huge hole in the night's sleep. Not that I'm complaining: I'll get paid for it.


Supreme Court Justice and foe of the Second Amendment Stephen Breyer, held up at machete-point on Nevis:* I'm sure he's greatly relieved it wasn't a gun. Pity there was no possible way the honest folk could stop the crime, h'mm.


The President has sent forth The Great Budget! --And a Raw Deal it is, with any possible end to the red ink pushed out a decade or more. Spend, spend, and tax the rich harder -- at least, until they join their friend Mr. Justice Breyer on Nevis, where a once-in-a-decade $1000 visit by a machete-wielding bandit would look like comic relief compared to the fed.gov's bite. Look for this budget to be no more than a colorful glob in the food-fight of Election 2012 (da-da-dum!) and just as likely to end up in the trash instead of feeding anyone.


The late Whitney Houston, sent home to Newark, New Jersey for her funeral after a a career plagued by drug use. Newark, NJ? Ah, lady, there's the problem! ...Dammit. Y'know, if they'd spend a quarter of the tax money-- my money and yours, too -- applied to the The War On (Some) Drugs in cleverly promoting that being stoned was uncool, we might manage to lose pop singers at a much lower rate -- ditto the several thousand unknowns who check out for every musician or actor found dead in the loo. (Too glib? Too bad -- poor woman spent the bulk of her career on the brink and nobody seemed able to pull her back. For every Whitney or Elvis, there's an army of Jane and John Does dieing by degrees. Don't look for any of them to get three days of oh, whhhhyyy??? on national TV.)
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* Part -- by their accounting, the neglected part -- of the island nation of St. Kitts and Nevis, an ex-British colony, Commonwealth member and with a decidedly British take on firearms. A beautiful place, withal.

So This Is Christmas

It's struck me as a very un-Christmas-y holiday season this year: no snow, plenty of green grass, overcast, rainy days interspersed with sunny ones.

Fewer decorations on houses, too. While Christmas retail sales are up compared to last year, they're not what they were before '08. People (with the exception of a few protesters bitterly holding out) appear resigned to things being bad and staying that way.

--And yet, consider the one-percenters who've been paying off layaways at various stores across the country: kindliness and beneficence are not dead and if people appear a little more distracted this year than they have in the past, it's probably because they're either working, or looking for work.

Me, I struck a blow for (new-fangled) tradition; at my extended-family Christmas, held last week to avoid schedule conflict, my great-niece and great-nephew* received, respectively, a nice fat Amazon gift certificate (she's an insatiable, Kindle-carrying reader) and a mechanical construction set very much in the Gilbert mold. (Speaking of Erector sets...!) And that's the best fun of Christmas for me; in too-few years, they'll be all grown up and anything their spinster aunt could give 'em would be impossibly uncool or misaimed.
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* Or whatever they are, English being, er, "relatively" deficient. The offspring of my sister's oldest son and his wife.

As Seen Near TV!

Dood, u r doin' it wrong: "Being a veteran of many sweet potato pies I can firmly attest that done right and after a few seconds in the microwave, you're eating a slice of heaven."

...No. Plain no, 'cos once you've spent a few seconds in the microwave, everything tastes different -- and it's a slice of heaven just to be let out.

(Comment to an article about an obnoxious Al Sharpton anti-GOP ad (possibly the one Og mentioned), in which he is blaming them for the bad economy.)

* * *
Look, Al -- can I call you Al? No? Okay, Hey You: y'know what entity screwed up the economy? Congress. Not a damn' one of 'em stood up and read the phone book or Ulysses to stop the crazy; oh, hells no, they egged one another on, the two parties double-dog-daring one another and they're at it again, still thinking they can drive the vehicle they keep putting in a ditch.

As near as I can tell, the vast majority of Federal incumbents don't give a fat damn about economic recovery by anybody's lights -- not Rand's, not FDR's, not Hayek's or Keynes' or even Eugene V. Debs's. All they care about is tryin' to maneuver things so the other guy's party looks like a sack of bastards, then pointing-in-alarm while snickering in unholy glee. They'd be depantsing one another if they could get away with it.

I think we ought to pair 'em up, hand them Go boards and make them play. Then every three days, pick ten at random, knock 'em out and leave 'em, solo, in jeans and T-shirts along desolate sections of railroad track, flat broke and without ID; meanwhile, we elect replacements and we keep at it until one or more grows a spine and stops playin' games. And I'd volunteer to wield the knockout mallet, too, but I think my breakage rate would be too high.

Never happen. But what a sweetly comforting thought!

Right to -- Uh-Oh!

Looks like Indiana may become the next "Right To Work" battleground. While I dislike being made to join an organization with political goals very different to my own, sometimes I'm greatly tempted by Enrico Fermi's deeply-held belief at all change was for the worse; the amount of bad blood, grotesque posturing and pointless protests these kinds of fights create may be worse than the ills of old-time unions. Public-employee union fights are the worst -- perhaps they have too much free time? -- but I believe membership in them is voluntary in Indiana; we'll see more UAW types, I'll bet.

--But I talk about that, in part, as a long-time member of one of the weakest skilled-trade union locals on the planet, so don't for a minute assume I'm not mostly concerned it will make my life more complicated. (Mind you, there's no exclusive jurisdiction left for my shop -- meaning most anyone can do our work, the problem being if they'd work for less than we're paid, they aren't going to be very good at it. And, in fact, the non-union shops around here pull down about the same wages and benefits, some a little better, some a little worse. I might not like the price but it's approximately what the market supports. Still would be nice to get a raise -- we volunteered to not take one that would have happened in 2008 and haven't had one since.)

There's yet another way, though; even in a no-right-to-work state, you're not obliged to pony up for the political activities of a union you had to join if you wanted the work: you can opt out of the fluff and pay only the financial core, the costs of collective bargaining, contract administration, and grievance adjustment, and not bear the burden of helping to stuff cash into Senator Pork's slush-fund or bus ijits to jam up the Statehouse halls. There is a downside: if you go fi-core, you can't hold a union office and you can't even vote on contracts; whatever the boys and girls paying for the full ride want will have to do you.

--But when the blowhards go on TV and say there's only their way or hell-on-earth, or wax magnanimous and "admit" the only-only choices are mandatory membership, rah-rah rallies an' all or right-to-work under the grinding heel of capitalist oppressors or the outstretched hand of a modern-day Hank Reardon, understand they're blowing smoke. They don't know what they're talking about -- or they don't want you to know.

I'd kinda bet on the latter.

And remember -- "You can't get blood from a turnip," but while "gold won't always get you good mercenaries, once you get good mercenaries, they can always get you gold." It cuts both ways.

Update: Speaking of unions -- and I believe they're an open shop -- the Star's newsroom's own Newspaper Guild staged a little rally across the street from The Building That Still Looks Like A Newspaper (ignore the aching void where presses once roared and rumbled). Ah, there's a quandary for the modern, Left-leaning Editor! Some of Ruth's commenters trot out predictable 1930's sloganeering, but this animal is starting to show signs of slightly different stripes. Anyway, it's an "I'll pop popcorn" moment for me, no matter who wins. (I still think the Guild otta just cut out the middlemen and go into the news biz themselves. Ghu knows, the Star appears to be getting right out of it.)

Occupy Bloomberg

On the one hand, they're leaving reeking mountains of refuse in NYC parks and, in one infamous instance, dumping on police cars; on the other, they're irking Mayor Bloomberg bigtime and criticizing the Commander in Chief.

Impossible to love, hard to hate, especially as long as they keep on waving those "End the Fed" signs. Oh, if only they wanted hard currency to replace it, instead of Ithaca Hours. Still, think of all the real work that's getting done in the places where they aren't, all the parent's couches unslept-upon, all the fridges unraided. It's an ill wind that blows no one any good, though downwind of an NYPD squad car might not be the place to be.

I think Thomas Jefferson, who once observed a revolution every decade or so might be about right,* would find the Occupiers of Wall Street more than adequately revolting. Me, I'm just grateful the local version is, so far, trying to be good neighbors while still chanting and waving signs -- it will be interesting to see what tomorrow reveals in Indy. Rebecca Riots, maybe? Just leave the cop cars alone, willya?
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* This would be before the man got stuck with the Presidency.

Yeah, Yeah, So's Yer Old Man

I have to disagree with the guys who say the "Occupy [Insert Location Name Here]" protesters are nothing at all like the TEA Party movement. Based on the photo here, I'd have to say they're at least 20% similar: please read the signs carefully; they include "2 Parties, No Voice," "End the Fed," "NO BAILOUT" and "Repeal the PATRIOT Act."

Y'know, for a bunch of Wobblies, half-baked Reds and union types who could miss a few days work with no effect, that's not too bad. I could almost forgive the Send Us A Tyrant sign ("Stop The Debate!") and the false dichotomy next to it. Almost.

(What is this thing so many people do now, whenever a bunch of people with whom they disagree show up, "Singing songs and carrying signs/Mostly say, 'Hooray for our side,'" their very first comments are that it's all fake, staged, Soros- or Koch-funded Astroturf? No, it ain't; love 'em, hate 'em or just want to get to the office, when the streets are clogged with People With A Message, they're really there. They may some of them be idiots or dupes, or just out to make trouble -- but they are there. They showed up. Joe Biden may be an idiot but when he avers that both the TEA Parties and the Occupiers are against bailouts, frustrated with politics-as-usual and generally smell a rat, he's being pretty accurate.)

Speaking of "Stop The Debate," frikkin' Harry Reid may be a friend to gunnies, but geesh-o-Pete, he's no fan of tradition; man actually pulled the pin and lobbed The So Called Nuclear Option into the Senate, quashing a GOP effort to put Mr. Obama's jobs bill to a vote before he had all the votes whipped into line. Mr. Reid reminds us that the Stupid Party and the Evil Party do, sometimes, swap places. He appears to be the first to put this into play -- and it's a game-changer. Ahh, for the good old days, when the Senate at least pretended to debate while diddling pages and secretaries.

You can blame paint chips in his breakfast cereal or fluoridated water;* me, I'm layin' this mess square at the doorstep of the ill-considered 17th Amendment, which needs to be amended right back. Ah, well, kiss it goodbye; it probably won't be until well after we're gone that some latter-day Imperial President appoints Speedy, his favorite racing tortoise, to the Senate and in the meantime, Mr. Reid will do right nicely as a substitute.
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* Not that I would in any way mean to imply the august body of men and/or women comprising the United States Senate was a mob of impure saps. Oh no. Not ever. Never. Well, hardly ever.

[stevenwrightvoice]Hooray, There Is A Budget Deal[/stevenwrightvoice]

Yeah, the Lincoln-green smoke rose up from the vent stack at 1600 Pennsy a couple hours ago. The Feds got themselves a budget deal.

The President claims the new budget deal pushes us back to Eisenhower Administration levels of public spending. Well, it's not Calvin Coolidge levels, let alone Peyton Randolph, but I suppose it's a start. On the other hand, specificity has not been his long suit and no one outside the principals (if them) and their stenogs and eager lackeys have actually seen the thing, so for all we know, it leases Alabama to the Martians as a game preserve to offset Federal spending.

Time will tell. No word at all about it containing an requirement to balance the fed.gov budget. And remember, it's not a Depression, it's not a Depression, it's not a Depression...

PS: This.