Games that make you kill

Now that so much gaming has moved from our PC’s to our phones, I find my ravenous urge to kill and maim is no longer slaked by trivial entertainments such as Call of Duty, BioShock  and World of Tanks; nay, I’ve found something better!

Angry Birds!

The Killers
The Killers

Yes, nothing satisfies my urge to chuck chickens at grinning evil green pigs like Angry Birds. If I wasn’t able to sublimate my burning desire for collapsing structures and porcine rolling heads, there is just. no. telling. what I might be capable of…

So heed not my guns and first person shooters- fear my flaming bluebirds!

(side note- did someone put something in the water of my country?)

The Blogfather speaks

…and it would be easy to call it snark, but instead it’s truth (quoted in full):

SO IF WE’RE GOING TO HAVE A “NATIONAL CONVERSATION ON GUNS,” HERE ARE SOME OPENERS:

Why do people who favor gun-control call people who disagree with them murderers or accomplices to murder? Is that constructive?

Would any of the various proposals have actually prevented the tragedy that is the supposed reason for them?

When you say you hope that this event will finally change the debate, do you really mean that you hope you can use emotionalism and blood-libel-bullying to get your way on political issues that were losers in the past?

If you’re a media member or politician, do you have armed security? Do you have a permit for a gun yourself? (I’m asking you Dianne Feinstein!) If so, what makes your life more valuable than other people’s?

Do you know the difference between an automatic weapon and a semi-automatic weapon? Do your public statements reflect that difference?

If guns cause murder, why have murder rates fallen as gun sales have skyrocketed?

Have you talked about “Fast and Furious?” Do you even know what it is? Do you care less when brown people die?

When you say that “we” need to change, how are you planning to change? Does your change involve any actual sacrifice on your part?

Let me know when you’re ready to talk about these things. We’ll have a conversation.

UPDATE: John Lucas emails:

Joe Scarborough, who claims to be a “proud NRA member” just said there is no reason to allow someone to have an “assault weapon” that shoots “30 rounds a second.”

The ignorance is appalling.

Well, yes. It’s MSNBC. But it is interesting that Scarborough — like Mark Shields and Rupert Murdoch — seems entirely ignorant of actual gun law. But to be fair, the National Firearms Act has only been around since 1934.

These are the opinion-makers and the lawmakers. Ignore their ignorance and disregard for the constitution at your own peril. But then again, a lot of you helped elect these clowns, so, I guess I know where you stand.

Just so we’re clear.

Awful, awful times

I do not like this world we have made for ourselves. I do not like the media and its taste for blood after a terrible tragedy. I do not like politicians who cannot wait a decent time before trying to capitalize on a terrible tragedy. Hence, I do not like this world we- all of us– have made for ourselves.

Bob Owens thinks he sees what a facet of the problem is. I don’t know- I just know the news Friday had me crying like a baby as I tried to drive down Schillinger Road.

I am glad I’m going to ground.

Honor between men

A different time, but Honor between men has never changed.

Here it came, just a few miles out, this American bomber that dropped no bombs. Then, suddenly, it was over them and gone. No one said a word. The crew unhooked the hoses, Franz flicked away his cigarette, saluted his sergeant and was gone, off in pursuit of the American plane.

If he could down this one, Stigler would have his 23rd victory, and he’d be awarded the Knight’s Cross, the highest honor for a German soldier in World War II and one that symbolized exceptional bravery.

Within minutes, Stigler, alone, was on the B-17’s tail. He had his finger on the trigger, one eye closed and the other squinting through his gunsight. He took aim and was about to fire when he realized what he wasn’t seeing: This plane had no tail guns blinking. This plane had no left stabilizer. This plane had no tail-gun compartment left, and as he got closer, Stigler saw the terrified tail gunner himself, his fleece collar soaked red, the guns themselves streaked with it, icicles of blood hanging from the barrels.

—-

Stigler, too, was panicked. This plane was going down, and its crew was paralyzed. Stigler pointed to the ground, and, finally, a reaction: The Americans shook their heads. They’d rather die in flames than be taken prisoner by the Nazis.

Stigler was exasperated. As it was, he was risking his own life: Everyone knew the story of the German woman who, just one year before, had been gunned down by the Nazis for telling a joke against the Third Reich. If Stigler’s plane were to be spotted by a civilian alongside a B-17, and if that civilian wrote down the number on his tail and reported him, he was as good as dead.

Then Stigler remembered what Roedel had told him, that to shoot the enemy when vulnerable went against the code of chivalry and honor. Stigler felt he had to do what was right.

B-17ME-109

What kind of man would risk his own safety for that of a helpless enemy? I guess none of us will know until we face it ourselves. Honor can be a hard taskmaster, but I’ll bet Herr Stigler had no problem looking himself in the eye in the mirror.

tweeted by Doug Ross (@directorblue)

And now you know

Ever wonder where the strange names for groups of animals came from? Wonder no more, through the commentariat at Althouse:

From a book I enjoyed as a kid and still browse sometimes called Why Things Are by Joel Achenbach:

Why Are There So Many Bizarre Names For A Collection Of Animals…?

Our favorite is a parliament of owls, because you can imagine them in powdered wigs. According to James Lipton, author of An Exaltation of Larks, the English nobility had nothing better to do in the fifteenth century than sit around and think up funny names for groups of animals. This was called the venereal game, after the word venery, an archaic term for hunting. Terms became widely circulated by word of mouth, then established though the publication of books of courtesy, which instructed a gentleman how to behave in proper society and among other things use the right name for a bunch of foxes (“skulk”).

Many of the terms are conspicuously cute like a cowardice of curs or a murder of crows. Others sound cuter than they are meant to be; a school of fish is a corruption of shoal of fish, which is an appropriate image. Some others: A hover of trout, a husk of hares, a labor of moles, an unkindness of ravens, a murmuration of starlings, a knot of toads, a gang of elk, a fall of woodcocks, a rafter of turkeys, a kindle of kittens, a pitying of woodcocks, a crash of rhinos, a congregation of plovers, and a bevy of roebucks.

Thar’ ye go….

A blunt truth, which few will like

Those one or two who read the words I write here may have noted that, since the election (excepting, of course, my sad preoccupation with the travesty of Benghazi) I have done relatively little opinionatin’ about things political.

This is deliberate. This comes from a sad realization that, closely as I hold them, my guiding principles are far out of tune with those of the majority of my fellow-travelers. There very group I worry so much about- our children- have voted, and gotten what they wanted. Look at the demographics of the vote and you’ll see what I mean. The Nanny State is what we want and we’re going to get it good and hard.

Allow me to quote from someone much more well-spoken than I am- he writes a blog called Unqualified Reservations and can be quite brutal in his analysis:

Dear conservatives, I have a question for you.  Suppose God appeared to you in your sleep, and gave you a choice.  You could lose your country, but keep your institutions and constitutions.  Or, you could lose your institutions and constitutions, but keep your country.  Which would you choose?

But I don’t have to choose, you say!  Au contraire, mon frere!  I will save my country, by saving her institutions and constitutions!  Which are the best in history ever!  Look at all this corn and bacon!  Dear conservatives, this is just your way of cursing God.  Do you think he doesn’t have enough fools and drunks to look after?

Do you know what terrifies me?  What terrifies me is that not only do I not think America deserves Mitt Romney, I don’t even think America deserves Barack Obama.  After all, a couple of centuries of diligent looking-after has run us up quite a tab with God.  A tab that will be paid or punished.  What terrifies me is that while I see no collective interest in paying the tab, it doesn’t seem to me that the punishment has even begun to begin.  Barack Obama isn’t exactly Robespierre, you know.  “Capable” might be going too far, but “basically decent” isn’t that much of a stretch.

What terrified me about Mitt Romney is that four years, eight years, of Romney would have been pure borrowed time.  There was not even the slightest intention to pay the tab.  Your intention, dear conservatives, was to sleep and be merry.  Your debt is already terrifying.  Fall on your knees, dear conservatives, and thank God from the bottom of your heart that you didn’t put another decade on it.

I want to believe he’s wrong- surely we aren’t that far down the road- but to read the news with open eyes is to be convinced otherwise. Study some history with your preconceptions thrown aside- look at the rise and fall of nations- and see if some sobering parallels with other once-great nations don’t become apparent.

When the boot comes down over the next two or three decades, remember you grew up in the Golden Age. That memory will be all that is left.

The parable of the Boiled Frog will be something to keep in mind.

Me? I’ll be going to ground as far as I can. I’ll be gone soon and won’t have to see it through to the end. Thank goodness.

Christmas snow

Sometimes I see pictures like this and think, “Man, how cool would it be to live there to see that? “

(click=embiggen)

Then I go lay down until the feeling passes, and remember this is where I live…

Snowing in Minnesota, 70 degrees here. Decisions, decisions…

Winter pic via Lileks