Conservative Bash At Richard Petty’s Home

HERE.

Via Randy

Johnny Carson Lie Detector Politician

HERE.

Via Cousin Bill

Guns And Suicide

Oleg Volk
"Let's examine the idea that removing guns from individual ownership would do anything to reduce suicide rates. We already know that substitution effect happens and people in countries like China and Japan simply find other means to kill themselves. However, US gun-banners maintain that gun suicide is somehow worse than other kinds, so let's consider what kind of weapon is required for a successful suicide.

Generally, only one shot is fired. Any firearm down to a 14th century matchlock would suffice for that. A matchlock can be made with a simple pipe with one end closed with a cap or even left open. In the latter case, more powder or other propellant such as aerosol would be needed but the effect would be much the same.

The projectile has to penetrate very little. If the gun is aimed at the person's eye or ear, there's not even skull bone in the way. Moreover, shots that fail to penetrate the skull would still likely kill by spalling on the inside. So any projectile , from a bullet down to batched stone or even a blank would kill a person who has the gun in contact with the head.

Moreover, the gun doesn't have to be a firearm. A pneumatic nail gun would work as well, as would a bangstick. A crossbow would work just as well. So restricting firearms -- including the obsolete matchlock, flintlock and percussion types would do nothing to reduce the effectiveness of suicides by those who decide to use projectiles to check out.


In other word, anti-gun people think nothing of endangering the lives of millions who want to use firearms for defense under the pretext of reducing the number of suicided -- and they are lying about that excuse, too."

The Highwayman By Alfred Noyes

The Highwayman (My favorite poem. It scared my daughter Bonnie when I read it to her. Both this and The Charge Of The Light Brigade! BT)

Part One
                               I
The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
The road was a ribbon of moonlight, over the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding-
               Riding-riding-
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.

                               II
He'd a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,
A coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin;
They fitted with never a wrinkle: his boots were up to the thigh!
And he rode with a jewelled twinkle,
               His pistol butts a-twinkle,
His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jewelled sky.

                               III
Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard,
And he tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred;
He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter,
               Bess, the landlord's daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

                               IV
And dark in the old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked
Where Tim the ostler listened; his face was white and peaked;
His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,
But he loved the landlord's daughter,
               The landlord's red-lipped daughter,
Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say-

                               V
"One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I'm after a prize to-night,
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;
Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,
Then look for me by moonlight,
               Watch for me by moonlight,
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way."

                               VI
He rose upright in the stirrups; he scarce could reach her hand,
But she loosened her hair i' the casement! His face burnt like a brand
As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast;
And he kissed its waves in the moonlight,
               (Oh, sweet black waves in the moonlight!)
Then he tugged at his rein in the moonlight, and galloped away to the West.

Part Two
                               I
He did not come in the dawning; he did not come at noon;
And out o' the tawny sunset, before the rise o' the moon,
When the road was a gipsy's ribbon, looping the purple moor,
A red-coat troop came marching-
               Marching-marching-
King George's men came marching, up to the old inn-door.

                               II
They said no word to the landlord, they drank his ale instead,
But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed;
Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets at their side!
There was death at every window;
               And hell at one dark window;
For Bess could see, through the casement, the road that he would ride.

                               III
They had tied her up to attention, with many a sniggering jest;
They bound a musket beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast!
"Now keep good watch!" and they kissed her.
               She heard the dead man say-
Look for me by moonlight;
               Watch for me by moonlight;
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way!

                               IV
She twisted her hands behind her; but all the knots held good!
She writhed her hands till here fingers were wet with sweat or blood!
They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like
years,
Till, now, on the stroke of midnight,
               Cold, on the stroke of midnight,
The tip of one finger touched it! The trigger at least was hers!

                               V
The tip of one finger touched it; she strove no more for the rest!
Up, she stood up to attention, with the barrel beneath her breast,
She would not risk their hearing; she would not strive again;
For the road lay bare in the moonlight;
               Blank and bare in the moonlight;
And the blood of her veins in the moonlight throbbed to her love's refrain.

                               VI
     Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot! Had they heard it? The horse-hoofs
ringing clear;
Tlot-tlot, tlot-tlot, in the distance? Were they deaf that they did
not hear?
Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,
The highwayman came riding,
               Riding, riding!
The red-coats looked to their priming! She stood up strait and still!

                               VII
Tlot-tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot-tlot, in the echoing night
!
Nearer he came and nearer! Her face was like a light!
Her eyes grew wide for a moment; she drew one last deep breath,
Then her finger moved in the moonlight,
               Her musket shattered the moonlight,
Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him-with her death.

                               VIII
He turned; he spurred to the West; he did not know who stood
Bowed, with her head o'er the musket, drenched with her own red blood!
Not till the dawn he heard it, his face grew grey to hear
How Bess, the landlord's daughter,
               The landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.

                               IX
Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky,
With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high!
Blood-red were his spurs i' the golden noon; wine-red was his velvet coat,
When they shot him down on the highway,
               Down like a dog on the highway,
And he lay in his blood on the highway, with a bunch of lace at his throat.

       *       *       *       *       *       *

                               X
And still of a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,
When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
A highwayman comes riding-
               Riding-riding-
A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.

                               XI
Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard,
And he taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred;
He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter,
               Bess, the landlord's daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

Notes:

This is the original version of The Highwayman, copyrighted 1906, 1913.

Black And White

Oleg Volk

"........Or You Can Shoot The Sons Of Bitches"

Re-post: One of Fred's best.

RAVENSTOKES ALASKA

HERE
========
Not for children

We Are Not Indebted To The (These) United States For These Rights;

"There are certain principles that are inherent in man, that belong to man, and that were enunciated in an early day, before the United States government was formed, and they are principles that rightfully belong to all men everywhere. They are described in the Declaration of Independence as inalienable rights, one of which is that men have a right to live; another is that they have a right to pursue happiness; and another is that they have a right to be free and no man has authority to deprive them of those God-given rights, and none but tyrants would do it.

"These principles, I say, are inalienable in man; they belong to him; they existed before any constitutions were framed or any laws made. Men have in various ages striven to strip their fellow-men of these rights, and dispossess them of them. And hence the wars, the bloodshed and carnage that have spread over the earth. We, therefore, are not indebted to the United States for these rights; we were free as men born into the world, having the right to do as we please, to act as we please, as long as we do not transgress constitutional law nor violate the rights of others...

"Another thing God expects us to do, and that is to maintain the principle of human rights... We owe it to all liberty-loving men, to stand up for human rights and to protect human freedom, and in the name of God we will do it, and let the congregation say Amen."
-- John Taylor, 1882, Journal of Discourses, Volume 23, p. 263

The Deficit Trials

Time Magazine

"This 60-second commercial, titled The Deficit Trials: 2017 A.D., was made for W.R. Grace, an international chemical company, and was rejected for broadcasting by all three networks last winter. Too controversial and far too one-sided, they ruled.

Nonetheless, the ad will air this week on 150 independent stations across the country."

Via Western Rifle Shooters

Marxism In America

The MARXIST ROOTS OF OBAMA'S RAGE

Via Hamp, SWR