Audacter calumniare, semper aliquid haeret (Slander boldly, something always sticks) - Francis Bacon, De Augmentis Scientiarum (AD 1623)
We the Politicians of the United States, in Order to avoid a more perfect Union, manipulate Justice, destroy domestic Tranquillity, provide for the common offense, promote general Warfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty for ourselves and our Progeny, do blaspheme and eviscerate this Constitution of the United States of America. ("Zack," circa 1966 -1970)
WELCOME TO THE NEXT CHAPTER! WARNING! WARNING! WARNING! SOCIAL MEDIA IS ADDICTIVE AND EXCESSIVE USE MAY LEAD TO MENTAL HEALTH DISORDERS, REDUCED PRODUCTIVITY, LACK OF SLEEP, SOCIAL ALIENATION, BIRTH DEFECTS, BLINDNESS, AND SEXUAL IMPOTENCY. NOTICE: NO GUNS OR AMMUNTION ARE FOR SALE VIA THIS BLOG. No, I will not trade my Colt Python for some exotic adventures with your hot wife and a future first-round draft pick. CAVEAT: This blog is not suitable for viewing while at work, inside a public library, inside any public or private school, or inside any public or private restroom. Do not view this blog while driving or during sex. THIS BLOG CONTAINS (albeit often very childish) ADULT-CONTENT. DISCLAIMER: This blog is a hobby, it is not a livelihood. Even though much of what I blog about relates to firearms collecting and recreational shooting, I am not an expert (by any measure) on any facet of guns, shooting, hunting, or personal defense. Entries at this blog are akin to good old-fashioned campfire chats or post hunt barroom-bluster; I offer no opinion on what you should or should not purchase, or what you should be using or doing. What does or does not work for me could be long country-miles away from your tastes and your needs. All products, places, and miscellany that I review for this blog are purchased at retail price by me. I do not accept payment, gifts, discounts, freebies, products on loan, demon alcohol, drugs, plea-bargains, probation, parole, Papal Blessings, Presidential Pardons, or sexual favors for doing any review or blog post. TRACKING COOKIES: Google et al stick tracking cookies on everybody. If you are online, you are being spied on via one method or another, for one reason or another; 'nuff said. You may be able to minimize your online DNA residue by using Tor and Duck Duck Go. Vive la liberté! Vive all y'all! Ante omnia armari.To each of you, thanks for stopping by! I appreciate it!
With our economy in the condition that it is in, with all that has just happened in our world and with everything that still might happen, you may be wondering if you really need to run out and spend a goodly amount of your hard-earned cash on a black rifle. The choice should be yours alone, without intereference from the government. You are the only one who can answer that question. If you have heavy debt on your credit cards you may wonder if it is a responsible act for you to add more debt by buying one of these pricey little items. Conversely, if you already own a black rifle you may be wondering if now may be a good time to sell it in order to pay down some credit card debt. You fear there may be another “assault weapons” ban and you fear there may never again be a chance for you to own one, but you can’t help but wonder if a black rifle is truly a must-have item. Again, only you can know what is best for you.
There is only one black rifle left on my rack, a pre-ban Colt Sporter Match HBAR (heavy barrel) .223; it is designed primarily as a target rifle. I don’t own it for tactical reasons, and I don’t own it for practical reasons; I have it just to have it. I have sold other rifles on consignments (through FFL dealers, of course) during some previous “gun-runs” that were caused by pending anti-gun legislation. Such panics were opportunities to make some money. Years ago, I sold one rifle in order to pay for the furnishings needed for my house. If the current high prices of black rifles rise even higher, I may just sell this last black rifle (through a local FFL dealer; this is not a solicitation so please, no email offers) and live happily ever after without an “assault weapon.” If the unthinkable happens in our country, a black rifle would not be my first choice for defense; it would be near the bottom of the list simply because I shoot better with many other types of guns.
Without a black rifle, just what are you to do when hordes of worm infested Zombies wake from their dirt-nap and proceed to devour the brains of the populace? If you are a shooter or a hunter, chances are good that you already have a gun that will serve you as well as any black rifle. If you do not already own a gun, as an alternative to purchasing an expensive black rifle take a look at a good old-fashioned pump 12 gauge shotgun or a lever-action rifle chambered for .45 Colt, .357 Magnum, or .44 Magnum. The .30-30 cartridge, commonly used in many lever-action deer-rifles, is equal to the 7.62.39mm used in the AK-47.
The skill and attitude of the shooter is what matters, not the type of the weapon. Somewhere in a neighborhood near you is a very nice, attractive female who sports an old High Standard Model 200 12 gauge 2-3/4 pump with a 28 barrel, along with a 6’’ Colt Python .357 magnum revolver as a backup. Even without a black rifle she is equal to any challenge; Zombies had best beware. The choice should be yours alone, without intereference from the government.
Please, all of you mother-BLEEPing public officials who are ACTING so indignant over Illinois Governor Rod Blagojevich doing what ALL of you politicians do, just shut the BLEEP up.
I am unconvinced that there is a clear line between politics and crime. What Blagojevich did is a crime only because the FBI taped it. Possibly Obama and Hillary did not have an explicit agreement for her appointment to S.O.S. when she dropped out of the POTUS primary race and tossed her support to Barack, but there was more to their private conversations than "nudge nudge, wink wink, say no more.” No, I am not Obama bashing; I am sure George W. Bush did the same “deals” on a HUGE scale to “appreciate” his supporters, as did Bill Clinton, George Bush Sr., et al. Politics is all about control and power. Money BUYS control, and money BUYS power; political appointments are often rewards, and don’t BLEEPing pretend otherwise. People paying $25,000 a plate to have dinner with a politician are buying clout that is up for sale. When law enforcement busted former Illinois Governor George Ryan, he used two defenses. First, he used the "village idiot" defense, saying that he was unaware of what his subordinates were doing. Second, he said deals and “gifts” are part of politics and that everyone in politics does it. He was correct on the latter. "Pay-to-play" is STILL legal in Illinois; the new state law against it passed but does not take effect until January. Blago was racing Illinois law and he wasn’t bright enough to know that he may have been violating some Federal laws. The FEDS still need to make their case; so far, all they have done is to file criminal complaints. They need to fit together the puzzle of which federal laws Blago's actions violated, and then file their indictment. In turn, the Feds will most likely offer Blago their own deal. Perhaps if Blago has a bigger fish they can hook, some of the charges may go away, “nudge nudge, wink wink, say no more.”
I know it is BLEEPing wrong for me to have this attitude, but I really do not trust politicians, ANY politician, especially CAREER politicians from Illinois, be they Republican, Democrat, or other. Politicians are all BLEEPing whores and pimps. They all ACT self righteously indignant about the actions of Blagojevich, yet they are ALL just as dirty. Blago may be talking to the Feds about some of those other politicians right at this moment; a deal may be in the works, “nudge nudge, wink wink, say no more.”
Remington started making the .22 caliber Nylon 66 rifle in the year 1959 and ended production in 1987 after selling just over 1 million of them. It is a true American classic firearm and now enjoys a cult following among some collectors. Remington knew how to romanticize the gun; some advertisements in the periodicals of the time pictured a parka clad young man with a Nylon 66 in hand, tending to a trapline in the snowy dead of winter. The message was that you were not a true outdoorsman unless you owned a Nylon 66. The rifle was light in weight, durable, reliable, accurate, affordable, and downright cool looking. A young impressionable gunslinger could ask for nothing more. I learned to shoot with my Dad’s guns but my first personally owned rifle was a .22 Remington Nylon 66. I still have it tucked away in the gun safe, it is one rifle I doubt I will voluntarily ever part with. It holds fourteen rounds in the tubular magazine and one in the chamber for a total capacity of fifteen. That trusty old rifle dispatched many troublesome raccoons, groundhogs, and opossums for me back in the old days. It was a companion on many woodland hikes, and a decent enough squirrel gun when adorned with a scope. When using a .22 to dispatch any critter, especially something as large as a raccoon, a head shot is the best shot. It was my experience that, when using a .22, a single body shot to a raccoon rarely provided instant gratification; they are tough varmints, their vitals are small, and raccoons can be quite aggressive when hurt or cornered.
I bought my first house when I was 20 years old, a roomy, drafty old relic in need of more repairs than my meager income, limited carpentry skills, and deep-seated laziness could keep up with over the many years that we lived there. The house was at the edge of large woodland and near a swamp, so invasive creatures were a common problem. On one memorable night, two female raccoons got into the attic at the same time and proceeded to engage in a horrific donnybrook over nesting rights. There is nothing more demonic than the sound of two large raccoons screaming, snarling, and thumping around as they try their natural best to defend turf, especially when the brawl is taking place on the attic side of the thin drywall ceiling just above your head. As I stood beneath them, rifle in hand, pondering just what exactly my next move was going to be, the combined weight and gymnastics of the critters provided the answer by breaking through the ceiling. The snarling raccoons were hanging onto each other with their fangs all the while they were holding onto the edge of the broken ceiling with their paws, both unwilling to give up the fight and both trying not to fall from the attic to the floor below. Rather than wait for the fight to continue at my feet, it was in my best interest to deal with the raccoons while they were still overhead, so I opened fire with the Remington. After four quick shots, two to each critter, they both scrambled over the edge of the broken ceiling back into the attic. Following a brief eerie silence there was the sound of blood running from the attic to the floor where I was standing, then the howling battle resumed. I caught a glimpse of one of the raccoons through the hole in the ceiling and hit it with one more shot, which finally broke up the fight. That raccoon scurried out of the attic, jumped to the ground outside of the house, and from the rear window I watched it disappear into the darkness; I found its carcass in the woods the following day. It took a few more days of adventure to extricate the remaining wounded raccoon from the attic. Ah, yes, those were the good old days; on the other hand, maybe not so good. Click here for a Chuck Hawks article on the Remington Nylon Rifles. I picked up another Nylon 66 in like-new condition about a dozen years ago. You can’t have too many copies of a good old gun.
The yards and fields around here are snow covered, but we haven’t really had a monster storm yet. So far, this winter has been pretty much like last, a typical Chicagoland winter with no sign of global warming. Our high temperature today was 15 degrees F. Since early this morning, all daylong there has been flock after flock of high-flying geese, most of them in V formations, are heading directly south. I haven’t witnessed such a migration in years. Maybe these geese know something that we don’t. Just in case, a brand new Toro brand snow blower now sits in the garage, a Christmas present from me, to me; my personal effort to stimulate the economy. I checked prices at the major stores and compared them with prices from a small, local outfit that has been around for 80 years. The local merchant’s prices were a bit lower than the big stores, so the little guy got my money.
My 10-year old Toro is in the shop for a new drive belt and a tune-up. It will serve as a backup and as a loaner to needy neighbors.
The garage is now clean enough to park one vehicle; with more time and effort there soon may be room for two.