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Desert Cat's Paradise
Felis desertus |
![]() "The prudent see danger and take refuge, but the simple keep going and suffer for it." - Proverbs 27:12. |
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Sunday, September 30, 2007September 2007 Pima 3-Gun MatchThe weather has begun to moderate, and my most pressing chores out in the valley are complete. So it's time to get back to shooting. This Sunday was the Pima Three-Gun Match.
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I keep telling Daisycat that we need the feminine touch out at the range, even though she's convinced she's driving some people crazy. Well the one doesn't negate the other, I say. Here she is on the "windows" stage. (Note I had to break it into two parts because it was too long for YouTube to accept as a single massive file...) Part I Part II (I *had* put subtitles in the above two videos, but for some reason YouTube stripped them out. Fnrzz&%@@!) As a point of contrast, here's Cowboy Blob on the "windows" stage: And to show us all how it's *DONE*, here's Jon himself. Note that all four stages are included in this video and still it is under two and a half minutes long. Most impressive! Check out the rate of fire in the middle of the fourth stage. That is a *semi*-automatic he is shooting! Danged if one could tell, eh? Lest you think I'm letting myself off, I assure you I have myself to skewer on this stage as well. Much blundering about mindlessly, as you will see as soon as I have it subtitled and ready to go. Labels: firearms posted by Desert Cat @ 6:12 PM | permalink Teh anti-LOLcat, hnur!![]() Shamelessly stolen from Cowboy Blob (after image caused me to LOL so hard I needed an inhaler...) Labels: cats posted by Desert Cat @ 4:31 PM | permalink Friday, September 28, 2007Arctic Oil Up For GrabsScience Journal - WSJ.com
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In the Arctic this week, researchers aboard the U.S. Coast Guard icebreaker Healy are mapping claims to the spoils of global warming. North of Alaska, the 23 scientists of the Healy are gathering the data legally required to extend national territories across vast reaches of the mineral-rich seafloor usually blocked by Arctic ice. Fathom by fathom, multibeam sonar sensors mounted on the Healy's hull chart a submerged plateau called the Chukchi Cap, in a region that may contain 25% of the world's reserves of oil and natural gas. [Healy in ice] North of Alaska, researchers aboard the U.S. Coast Guard icebreaker Healy are gathering the data legally required to extend national territories across vast reaches of the mineral-rich seafloor usually blocked by Arctic ice. In an era of climate change, these frozen assets are up for grabs, as melting ice allows detailed mapping and, one day perhaps, drilling. Mwhahahaha! posted by Desert Cat @ 4:49 PM | permalink B-52 Nukes Headed for Iran: Air Force refused to fly weapons to Middle East theaterThe following article was posted in it's entirety in the comments here at Vox's site, apparently being some "subscriber only" content from the Wayne Madsen Report. An excerpt is copied below. Now note that I know nothing about this Wayne Madsen, so take whatever grains of salt you feel are appropriate (or adjust your tinfoil hat as necessary). Bolded sections my emphasis:
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By Wayne Madsen WMR has learned from military sources on both sides of the Atlantic that there was a definite connection between Israel's OPERATION ORCHARD and BENT SPEAR involving the B-52 that flew the six nuclear-armed cruise missiles from Minot Air Force Base in North Dakota to Barksdale. There is also a connection between these two events as the Pentagon's highly-classified PROJECT CHECKMATE, a compartmented U.S. Air Force program that has been working on an attack plan for Iran since June 2007, around the same time that Cheney was working on the joint Israeli-U.S. attack scenario on Iran. September 6, hm? Is it any wonder that my sixth sense detectors were leaving me a frazzled mess around that time? (FWIW, they've been going off again this week.) Click on "read the rest" for the remainder of the article. And if you have any credible background information on this author regarding his motivations, connections or funding, would you please let me know in the comments? Thanks. Labels: politics, watching the skies posted by Desert Cat @ 1:05 PM | permalink Open Range RuminationsThe countryside around The Farm is sparsely populated with members of the species Bos taurus and related species. Many of these in ancient times were permitted to roam the hills and gullies without constraint, save that practiced by their keepers and during times of harvest. In more recent times the ubiquitous Wirus barbus has served to define the extents of their range. Still it is commonly understood that if one does not wish the ruminants to lollydag about one's premises, it is one's own responsibility to erect such Wirus barbus as is necessary to constrain their encroachments. Two or three strands attached to posts and sticks is typically sufficient for the task.
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However in more recent history, another species has proliferated in the valley. Said species has not the economic value of Bos taurus, whose common name in the language of the barbarian hordes of the Old World has become synonymous with wealth. This is not to say said new species has not been gainfully employed in the past. At present however, every yahoo and his inbred cousin keeps half a score or so of these valueless beasts on full welfare, and what is worse, feels no compulsion to keep them contained within the bounds of their own property. So one commonly finds dozens of the species Canis lupus familiaris infesting the hills and lowlands of my demesnes, barking and yammering and carrying on--chasing, harrassing and bullying the wildlife, shitting and breeding and whelping more of the disgusting creatures. And as it impacts me, they feel no compunction to avoid doing so upon my very own premises and indeed, treat it as a canine superhighway, connecting the "here" of where they are to the "there" of where their filthy tails are leading them. Like the ungulates of the past however, the practical solutions to this infestation in this particular location lie not in prevention or elimination, but in circumscription. The law notwithstanding, one's only real hope is to bar their entry to one's sanctuary. The unfortunate facts of the case are that the aforementioned yahoos and their inbred cousins lack the mental faculties to comprehend the nuances of such proscriptions as "leash laws" as practiced in more civilized quarters, and the lack of proximity to that branch of law enforcement known colloquially as "dog catcher" renders such appeals to authority moot. However unlike the ungulates of the past, Canis familiaris is not so easily constrained, and certainly not by so feeble a deterrent as Wirus barbus on a stick. So it was that I found myself this recent weekend constructing fortifications against the hordes and erecting reinforcements of the ramparts that so ably constrained Bos taurus from ancient times. As I toiled upon this project, a pair of the species Canis familiaris came trotting insouciantly along the lane adjacent to my fence--a cur and his bitch. A sharp command sent the cur fleeing back in the direction from which he came. The bitch continued on her way, giving me a curious look, until a hurled rock convinced her of the need to Depart: Post-haste! A more troubling development was weighing on my mind on this fair morn, however. The day before, a disciple of Cerberus had made his appearance within my demesnes--unlooked for and unwelcome. There is a familiar saying, to wit: "All good dogs go to heaven". Contemplating this, I was most grateful for the truth revealed therein. The truth of the axiom: "The only good dog is a dead dog" implies that no living dog is good. This coupled with the aforementioned saying guarantees there shall be none of this accursed species to be found upon said hallowed ground. Because once dead, it is far, far too late to repent, locking the soul of the wicked beast out of the Blessed Realm forever. However this particular beast had made his way back to the land of the living, arising from the soil of the place where he last glimpsed the light, to trouble once more the inhabitants under the sun. "There is no rest for the wicked, saith the Lord" and so there was none for this foul beast. Still, such are consigned to the Underworld and are normally never seen or heard from again. Why had he returned to trouble my repose? For my dreams the following night were plagued with visions of a field laden with skulls and fossils. The Rich Man was denied the rest that he saw the poor beggar Lazarus enjoy in the bosom of Abraham, due to his wickedness. He was also denied his request to return to the land of the living to warn his brothers of his fate. But had this hound of hell been granted his own request to return--not to save his own soul, but to give warning to the souls of the wicked beasts of his ken who still walked the paths under the sun? All of this I contemplated while taking my luncheon the late morning of the Day of the Sun. As I considered these things, lo, a foul specimen of Canis familiaris appeared outside my window and disappeared in the direction of the Inner Sanctum. I summoned to my hand my Implement of Heavy Metal Hurling +3 and rapidly exited my habitation. Verily, this Implement of Heavy Metal Hurling is as fine an instrument as has ever been crafted by the hand of man! For it is of caliber .45, and not one lesser caliber more suited for the delicate gender, or for men of the sort known colloquially as "pussies". And more than that, it is of the design of the demigod John Moses Browning, honed to perfection and presented by him unto the world in the Year Of Our Lord 1911. And finally, the execution of said perfect design requires perfection in the craftsmanship thereof. No less a name than Kimber was stamped thereon, indicative of the highest level of craftsmanship in the art of the creation of Implements of Heavy Metal Hurling. Plus three, indeed! Stealthily I approached the Inner Sanctum, Implement carefully pointed ahead and downward at a 45 degree angle, finger *outside* the trigger guard, safety on. There! Within the Heart of the Realm of the Little Princess, Bella Nelumbo, the Cur of this morning's encounter, wallowing, WALLOWING! upon her pool, fouling the waters of her still repose with filth and the foul stench of his carcass, and casting her aside rudely into the muck!! Ungainly he arose from his desecration, having become aware of my arrival, thinking to lope off dismissively after the manner of his ken. 'Twas not to be so. 1) "All firearms are considered loaded" Check. Cocked, locked and loaded. 2) "Never point firearm at anything you are not willing to shoot" Check. Pointed with Intent. 3) "Always keep your trigger finger straight along the frame until on target and ready to fire" Check. As previously noted. 4) "Always know your target and what's behind it" Check. Target: dirt in front of trespassing Canis familiaris. Behind target: Said Canis familiaris, then 300 yards of empty woods, then riverbed, then thousands of acres of vacant wilderness. Having no particular wish to spend the remainder of the morning in the dubious, arduous task of excavating a final repository for said Desecrating Interloper, the target was acquired as noted above and the mechanisms of the Implement of Heavy Metal Hurling +3 engaged. Safety off, aim, fire! The Implement discharged it's Missile with a Most Thunderous Retort, which reached the ears of the Desecrator milliseconds after the spray of dirt dislodged by the impact of the Implement's Missile. (Verily, this Implement of Heavy Metal Hurling +3 gives forth a most resounding BHLAM! when the mechanism is engaged, very unlike the kaPOW or phTING of lesser implements.) Propelled now by a Mightie Wynd from his hindquarters, the Cur rocketed forth through the woods and away! Now it was finally clear to me, the meaning of the appearance of the hellhound on the previous morn. In a flash of insight, his purpose became most apparent. Grimly I marched to where his spectral carcass had appeared, siezed him by his erstwhile scruff, and dragged his bony visage to the gate--all the while the dessicated remnants of his brain rattled within its confines. Taking a length of iron wire in hand, I affixed his leering skull to the portal, and then with much Muttering, Cursing, and Invocation, I inscribed upon his forehead those ancient Runes of Prohibition, a Sigil, a Word of Warding: "Sit! Stay! Guard!" Good boy. Labels: San Pedro homestead posted by Desert Cat @ 8:28 AM | permalink Thursday, September 27, 2007Dems can't make guarantee on Iraq troopsHnar!
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Dems can't make guarantee on Iraq troops - Yahoo! News The leading Democratic White House hopefuls conceded Wednesday night they cannot guarantee to pull all U.S. combat troops from Iraq by the end of the next presidential term in 2013. I recall a saying about a dime and the amount of difference it truly represents? Giuliani-Clinton 2008 Hillary-McCain 2008 Romney-Obama 2008 Ooh! Don't stop! You're moistening the panties of the muddle in the middle... Labels: politics posted by Desert Cat @ 7:53 AM | permalink Wednesday, September 26, 2007I need hair like that![]() Don't I need hair like that? If I was going to have hair (as opposed to not having hair), I would want hair like that. Labels: stream of consciousness posted by Desert Cat @ 7:57 PM | permalink The Ron Paul FileThe Ron Paul File
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For those who know little about the good Doctor, this is a vast trove of information. Is he a nutball? Or is he the sanest of the candidates out there? Read, read, read (and watch a bunch of videos), and decide for yourself. Labels: politics posted by Desert Cat @ 6:04 PM | permalink ABC News: O'Reilly: Blacks Surprisingly CivilizedABC News: O'Reilly: Blacks Surprisingly Civilized
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Allen, who is black, said O'Reilly "doesn't realize dinner can be a civilized affair and we do use table napkins." I have to ask, how much of this is, seriously, the result of the entertainment industry, particularly the rap 'music' industry? I mean come ON! You have this relentless barrage of hyper-negative stereotypes blaring out of car speakers and music videos, you have the whole 'urban black subculture' image that black (and non-black) entertainers and sports figures present to the public on a continual basis, and you're offended that some honky comes into your home and discovers you don't fit the image after all? Whose fault is that, really? Labels: society and culture posted by Desert Cat @ 8:27 AM | permalink Monday, September 24, 2007Attention:It is the position of this blog that, when and if the Republican Party and Republican politicians abandon conservatism and conservative principles, then it is time for conservatives to abandon the Republican Party.
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En masse. Reduce it to third-world status. I reject as utter bullshit this argument that we have to accept what*ever* alternative the Republicans put up against the Democrats, because the alternative of a Democrat in office is *sOO* much worse than even the worst Republican. Bull-SHIT! If we get Hillary, your precious War on Terror will go right along on schedule. And she can't possibly promote more pork and social spending than this current "Republican" administration and the previous "Republican" congresses did. If the Republicans nominate a Giuliani or similar non-conservative (most of the pack, frankly, and I don't trust Thompson), they deserve to have their asses handed to them in a landslide. Rockefeller Republicanism must be defeated everytime it ascends to power. And it is clearly in firm control of the Republican party at the moment. To arms, brothers! Labels: politics posted by Desert Cat @ 10:42 PM | permalink Bush quietly advising Hillary Clinton, top DemocratsBush quietly advising Hillary Clinton, top Democrats - Examiner.com
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President Bush is quietly providing back-channel advice to Hillary Rodham Clinton, urging her to modulate her rhetoric so she can effectively prosecute the war in Iraq if elected president. Need I say more, really? This is not about what you or I want or believe. They will feed us what they need to, to make us believe what is convenient for them, and then do what they will, no matter the results of the elections. This is why Ron Paul hasn't a sliver of a chance to win, despite his good showing in recent polls. He is not "with the program". Whose program? Well, you figure it out. posted by Desert Cat @ 5:43 PM | permalink Thursday, September 20, 2007Bid to Cut Off Iraq War Funding Fails - New York TimesBid to Cut Off Iraq War Funding Fails - New York Times
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A proposal to cut off money for military operations in Iraq fell far short in the Senate this afternoon, a day after Democrats lost their best chance of changing the course of the war. On November 8, 2006 I wrote this: I'm going to make a bold prediction today. As of today, I stand by my prediction. posted by Desert Cat @ 3:53 PM | permalink Wednesday, September 19, 2007SalviaThis is fascinating.
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Too many idiots barge in on her, and are punished. And the archives are full of their tales. But this one is more akin to my experience. At least the last part of it. I have been in that childhood place many times. I don't know what it means or what she is doing, but the final result is always one of peace. "All is as it should be, my little one. Peace, peace", says Mother. And with my recent state of mind, that is just the balm I need. Update: another more recent account by the same author. Well beyond my experience to date...and wow. Update 2: As a point of reference, here is an account passed along to me from a friend of someone I know. T+24 hours I mentioned elsewhere that strong medicine may be good medicine, and the Shepherdess is strong medicine, if nothing else. I have found that launching from ground zero can be too much of a wrenching experience. Thus I have favored the Green Magic, as it gently lofts me to a pleasant cruising altitude. But all too often it goes no further than this, and I desire a more complete experience. After first preparing the setting, with low lights and sound muffling, I reduced to the bare essentials and settled into the papasan. The green elixir burned as it trickled beneath my tongue, and I waited for the soft thrumming to begin in my extremities. The question was asked of me, "do I want to enter into this public space unclad?" I answered that for the innocent there is no fear or shame. The light in my being began to open up and glory shone through the gaps into my inner chambers once again. When cruising altitude had been reached, the flame descended upon the divine sage, like a match to the fuse of the rocket. I exploded, and ceased to exist. Streamers of taut fuzzy cord, brown and green and other colors stretched out, expanded agonizingly in all directions, first like a daisy opening explosively, then twining and interconnecting into an ever shifting latticework. That was what was left of my body, though at the moment, the concept of "body" held no meaning. A singularity, capable of perception, is all that remained of my mind. A voice urged me to exhale. I made no sense of the command, as I had no longer had any frame of reference to make sense of it in. Somehow a taut strand of cord to my right exhaled and coughed. Briefly opening my "eyes", I vaguely perceived my room, with the stretching, shifting, latticework superimposed over it. Or I might say that the latticework itself perceived the room somehow, while I perceived the latticework. I closed my eyes again. Children's voices around me, faces, bodies. They were toddlers and preschoolers. I was younger than they, a mere infant, and they were my elders. They swirled around me, some concerned, others curious. We were all "her" children, the stern matron perceived at the edges of awareness. The children grew older as the intense stretching and twisting slowly receded. Momentarily, my body returned, and as I caressed my fingertips against my naked flesh, the last of the twisting lattice crumbled with a tinkling sound like icicles falling from a roof. What joy to find one's own body, pulsing with light and racing with sensation! I caressed it, and the sensations brought a surge of inutterable ecstacy in a burst of energetic light. I felt the universe pliable in my hands, and capable of being molded to my will. A familiar voice warned against creating that which would be unwise, as idle wishes had much power in my present state. Bathed in light and ecstacy I could do little more than bask in it, and wait as I slowly faded back to consensual reality. I picked up and went to bed, where the aftereffects continued in my dreams. ----------------------------------- And this, written a couple of years later: Children the Innocent As a little girl I came down to the water I hadn't been there for two years and said so to someone. No sooner though, I am harvesting the divine sage and decide to make a quid. I am shortly back in her space. I understand better what/how she works after this time. She drew blood. And that blood was transformed into a tremendous physical/sexual energy. Membranes vibrating, quivering with pleasure--she turned inside out all that sublimates, crusts over this essential human energy, and made it alive. She drew blood. And turned it into ecstacy. Man eats plant, plant eats man. Plant has praying mantis tentacles and razor-sharp woman-claws tipped with blood. She is a dominatrix and will flay you alive. Can you handle that? If not then stay away from her. You fools are destroying it for those of us for whom she is a sacrament. Oh, but the light of those jewel-encrusted spaces! The ecstacy of transformation. What plants feel when being eaten she reflects back to our experience. For it is in eating her that she is released into us and "eats" us. There is a reconfiguring and a de-sublimation, and we are transformed back to beings of light, of the pure sexual energy in which we were conceived. And it's not about "sex" per se. This was a revelation this last time. She is called the "virgin shepherdess" by her curators in southern Mexico. Tongue-in-cheek? I don't think so. Because what I saw was that children do not differentiate. They are too innocent to differentiate "sexual" energy from any other. It is only after they begin to grow older that strictures are placed and boundaries are drawn. That which shimmered and sang when they knew everything, is placed in a box, often with extreme shame, and rules and authority proscribe and restrict and lock away that which connects us with every other being on this planet and beyond. It is not about sex. Sex is what happens when a man and woman come together with their bodies of light and join in union to conceive a new body of light. But having been conceived thusly, it is what/who we are. We walk in pure innocence until we are told otherwise. Technical note: the live quid is far preferable to any other method, in my opinion. It is slow enough that you are not wrenched out of your existence with such force that it is traumatic. She grazed her nails across me and drew blood, asked if I hoped to survive my encounter with her. I said something about my life not being in her hands. She replied that no one entered her space without placing themselves at her mercy. I said I wouldn't argue that premise for now. And we proceeded into her space. See how much easier than appearing suddenly in her midst, where she employs her Cuisinart to discorporate the flesh-man who so insolently barged in upon her? Even the Green Magic plus 10x leaf is far too fast and disruptive. With the quid I had control of the continuation of the experience. There was enough there (5-6 leaves or so) that another chew now and then to draw out more juice continued the experience for over an hour. I could have continued chewing for another half hour, but M was coming home soon and I needed to cut the experience short. So far far much better than a sudden discorporation and equally rapid return to reality! No, I know you don't know what I am talking about. And that is just as well. Labels: health and lifestyle, spiritual posted by Desert Cat @ 6:39 PM | permalink Obedient Little SheepPretty Lady asks 'why'?
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I say 'Baa!' More here: Taking Sides in a Tasing - The Lede - Breaking News - New York Times Blog Labels: statism posted by Desert Cat @ 8:37 AM | permalink Tuesday, September 18, 2007Russia Is Back...“Warning Order:” Russia practicing pre-emptive nuclear strikes on U.S. | Northeast Intelligence Network:
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Drowned out in the media by tales of O.J. and Brittney, it is probably news to the majority of Americans that as you are reading this, Russian strategic bombers are conducting a series of long-range training flights, complete with aerial refueling, simulating a full-fledged nuclear cruise missile strike on the Continental United States. These exercises, conducted in a time when world tensions continue to mount, are scheduled to continue through September 21st. Russian strategic bombers Tu-160, Tu-95 and Tu-22M3, and Il-78 aerial tankers are engaged in this exercise, which in all practicality, could "go live" at any time, and the U.S. would have precious little warning should the unthinkable occur. Accordingly, these Russian exercises can and should be viewed as 'Warning Order' exercises which could be executed against the Continental United States and our allies imminently -- even during the execution of the announced "exercises" themselves. In that case the exercise would no longer be an exercise, but a real-world pre-emptive nuclear strike by Russian cruise missiles. Most of you "wet-behind-the-ears" crowd don't remember the Evil Empire. You grew up in an era not overshadowed by the threat of imminent nuclear annihilation. That era appears to be rapidly coming to a close. Welcome to 1984. Labels: politics, watching the skies posted by Desert Cat @ 7:45 PM | permalink Monday, September 17, 2007Money Quote"Naturally the common people don't want war. But after all, it is the leaders of a country who determine the policy, and it's always a simple matter to drag people along whether it is a democracy or a fascist dictatorship, or a parliament, or a communist dictatorship. Voice or no voice, the people can always be brought to the bidding of the leaders. This is easy. All you have to do is tell them they are being attacked, and denounce the pacifists for lack of patriotism and for exposing the country to danger. It works the same in every country."
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-- Hermann Goering, Hitler's Reich Marshall, at the Nuremberg Trials after World War II. More of interest. Update: You watch it with those branding irons! Try thinking for a change. It's what I am doing. posted by Desert Cat @ 10:29 PM | permalink The Evolutionary Brain Glitch That Makes Terrorism FailCommentsposted by Desert Cat @ 10:21 PM | permalink Are We There Yet??No, glasshoppah. The journey never ends in this lifetime...
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The mobile home installers wouldn't come back and install the last length of gas pipe to reach the propane tank pad location. So...well, you know the story. I was not out there the weekend before last (shoveling alligators on the home front), and this Saturday was spent addressing "deferred maintenance" issues on Doozey. So Sunday's gas piping installation was it this time. There are times out there, especially at sunset, when I could swear I was in the midst of a moving postcard: (dont' forget you can click to enlarge) ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() I know how easy it is to do, but may I never become jaded to the above. Labels: San Pedro homestead posted by Desert Cat @ 6:07 PM | permalink Thursday, September 13, 2007Drug czar gives warningHey! Hey "terror warriors"! What was that about these new vast government powers only being used to combat terrorism again? Oh yeah, right. "Terrorism" is now able to be defined as *anything* the government doesn't want you doing. And remember your usual guarantees of due process and all that "rot" don't apply in that case.
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Get your head out of your ass and smell the season... Drug czar gives warning : Local : Redding Record Searchlight: The nation's top anti-drug official said people need to overcome their 'reefer blindness' and see that illicit marijuana gardens are a terrorist threat to the public's health and safety, as well as to the environment. John P. Walters, President Bush's drug czar, said the people who plant and tend the gardens are terrorists who wouldn't hesitate to help other terrorists get into the country with the aim of causing mass casualties. Right-o. All those hippies with a pot plant in their closet are standing by, ready to cause mass casualties in this country. Can you say "hysterical propagandizing"? Can you say "demonizing in preparation for terrorizing"? via Anna posted by Desert Cat @ 7:43 PM | permalink More TEOTWAWKI ResourcesI suppose I shouldn't be surprised, but sometimes it catches me off guard to see the wide variety of different worldivews that people with an interest in preparedness-related information and products have. For example, the previous post was linked to an atheist survivalist. Survivalblog.com is run by a Christian man. Mormons have had a preparedness outlook from nearly day one. And this particular link is to a site with an eco-hippy orientation. "Whatever", I say. This site has a *ton* of products related to preparedness and the aftermath of TEOTWAWKI: Sustainable Village -- Products Index
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And while I'm at it, let me drop in a link to Lehmans, supplier to the Amish and probably the numero uno place to look for this kind of stuff, and this list of links from Joel Skousen, author of The Secure Home. Update: And finally a semi-related site geared to the motorhead: Utterpower Update 2: Still more related -- Don Rowe Inverters Labels: resources posted by Desert Cat @ 1:23 PM | permalink Wednesday, September 12, 2007SHAZAM!Saving Money With A Thermos Bottle
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and The Perfect 3.3 Cent Breakfast What an absolutely **genius** and low low low energy way to cook staple foods! Not to mention low labor. Note to Daisycat: find us a couple of the Alladin Stanley stainless steel thermoses mentioned in this article. Update: Here. via Survivalblog Labels: preparedness, resources posted by Desert Cat @ 10:14 PM | permalink Gone Fission...12 September 2007: A man who was questioned by New Jersey State Police on Monday and then let go after he was found taking photos of the Delaware Water Gap bridge was later discovered to be on the FBI's national terrorist watch list. Catch and freakin' release?! Put 'em back into the water to maintain the population so they get bigger and put up a more sportin' fight next time? At the same time as THIS. Via NEIN Labels: politics, watching the skies posted by Desert Cat @ 4:35 PM | permalink Tuesday, September 11, 2007So...Commentsposted by Desert Cat @ 12:14 AM | permalink Monday, September 10, 2007The Ron Paul epiphanyVox Day:
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First they ignore you, then they laugh at you, then they fight you, then you win. And somewhere in there is a whole lot of mindless, hate-filled frothing by those who seem to be threatened by his candidacy. Read the rest. Labels: politics posted by Desert Cat @ 9:32 PM | permalink Stone Age in a Single NukeWarning says Iranian SCUD could do $771 billion damage
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A new report says a SCUD-type missile launched from a small ship 200 miles from the coast of the United States could unleash a nuclear-generated electromagnetic pulse over Washington, D.C., that would leave behind $771 billion in damage. The fifth angel poured out his bowl on the throne of the beast, and his kingdom was plunged into darkness. Men gnawed their tongues in agony and cursed the God of heaven because of their pains and their sores, but they refused to repent of what they had done. Revelation 16:10-11 posted by Desert Cat @ 8:52 PM | permalink ![]() Labels: baby posted by Desert Cat @ 7:16 PM | permalink Chip Implants Linked to Animal TumorsThe Associated Press: Chip Implants Linked to Animal Tumors
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When the U.S. Food and Drug Administration approved implanting microchips in humans, the manufacturer said it would save lives, letting doctors scan the tiny transponders to access patients' medical records almost instantly. The FDA found 'reasonable assurance' the device was safe, and a sub-agency even called it one of 2005's top 'innovative technologies.' But neither the company nor the regulators publicly mentioned this: A series of veterinary and toxicology studies, dating to the mid-1990s, stated that chip implants had 'induced' malignant tumors in some lab mice and rats. 'The transponders were the cause of the tumors,' said Keith Johnson, a retired toxicologic pathologist, explaining in a phone interview the findings of a 1996 study he led at the Dow Chemical Co. in Midland, Mich. Then I heard a loud voice from the temple saying to the seven angels, "Go, pour out the seven bowls of God's wrath on the earth." The first angel went and poured out his bowl on the land, and ugly and painful sores broke out on the people who had the mark of the beast and worshiped his image. Revelation 16: 1-2 posted by Desert Cat @ 3:21 PM | permalink Friday, September 07, 2007![]() Labels: baby posted by Desert Cat @ 6:02 PM | permalink Thursday, September 06, 2007![]() Labels: baby posted by Desert Cat @ 4:35 PM | permalink Wednesday, September 05, 2007![]() Labels: baby posted by Desert Cat @ 10:54 PM | permalink Here Comes Henriette ![]() Hurricane Henriette, that is. But not for long. Landfall on dry deserts tend to rapidly dissipate tropical storms. By tomorrow morning she will be nothing but a thick blanket of moisture spawning heavy thunderstorms across the southwest. Right at this moment thunderstorms are brewing. The outermost band of moisture just reached us a couple of hours ago. Update: Overnight drizzle is all. New Mexico got the better part of the rain. posted by Desert Cat @ 4:37 PM | permalink Tuesday, September 04, 2007Blog World ExpoBlog World Expo
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Ooh! Ooh! I can hardly stand not to go! *ahem* Not likely, by the way. I'll be in Vegas two weeks after this for another installment of GeekWorld University--this time with Daisycat in tow. Somehow I can already hear what Steve H and Dennis the Peasant are saying, or are likely to say about this event. I don't even need to go to their sites to read their commentary. And TBH with the lineup of blowhards and the oh-so-self-important of the blogosphere at this event, I'm sure I can miss it without real consequence. In other news, Rodger, my endless source of mirth, merriment and political satire is hanging it up. I am distressed. Most! Not as much as losing a kitten distressed me, but gawhd, it comes close! Labels: blogospheric navel-gazing posted by Desert Cat @ 8:28 PM | permalink Kombucha supplies (& other good stuff)Just another entry for my "resources" list. (For those of you infrequent readers, this is more for my own use than anything, because my bookmarks are a mile long and a total mess, and hard drive crashes have a nasty habit of losing my bookmarks. But you might find something of interest in these links too.)
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www.HappyHerbalist.com I just brewed up a pot of sweet tea and started a fresh batch of kombucha with a starter I just received in the mail today. I haven't fermeted it for years. When a co-worker asked me about it recently, it stirred a craving deep in my body. That told me something about needing it again. Labels: resources posted by Desert Cat @ 8:21 PM | permalink HA! HAHA!Reporter who mocked Bush on Segway suffers own spill
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The ex-newspaper editor from Britain who mocked President Bush in 2003 for falling off a Segway scooter has now suffered his own spill from the personal transportation device – and the plunge was caught on camera. According to the UK's Daily Mail, (Piers) Morgan broke three ribs after falling off the Segway at 12 mph in Southern California, just three days before he was slated to appear as a judge on the grand finale of the reality show, "America's Got Talent." The paper says: "He can be seen cruising comfortably along the promenade at Santa Monica beach. Inexplicably, his delicate sense of balance fails him. The Segway swerves to the right, mounting the [curb]. Morgan's 'toned muscular, tanned, superfit torso' (as he describes it) continues straight along the road but sadly his feet remain planted to the rogue Segway. Inevitably he falls victim to gravity and crunches on to the baking concrete, where he lies, agonized, until a companion can come to his rescue." Aah, payback's a bitch, ain't it? Labels: felicity and jocularity, politics posted by Desert Cat @ 12:28 AM | permalink Monday, September 03, 2007BackI hope you all had a restful Labor Day weekend.
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Me? Three day weekends *kill* me lately. This weekend--water heater on Mom&DadCat's mobile home was shot. Good son installs new water heater. I had to disassemble all that galvanized pipe down to the stubs in the floor to get the old one out, then reassemble everything on up. That included cleaning up the pipe threads and all the crud in the old fittings enough to be able to reuse them. Got any spare elbows I can transplant? Then, I installed the bonding wire from well casing to electric subpanel that the inspector required from the first inspection. Finally, I finished installing the sides of the booster shed. It still needs a latch on the door, and once I have time on my hands (HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!) I could still caulk the seams, put trim on the corners, and give it a second coat. Now I need to get back to work to relax and recover. Labels: San Pedro homestead posted by Desert Cat @ 10:33 PM | permalink Tagged by Cowboy BlobNo, I didn't forget. I've been...occupied.
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Cowboy Blob's Saloon and Shootin Gallery: Tagged The rules: Desert Cat. No middle name that I can discern. However if I must have one, I can add in "the". And at least as pertains to recent weekends, here's the facts: T - tired H - hot E - exhausted And no, I'm not going to annoy anyone else. Feel free to blog this one if you want. posted by Desert Cat @ 10:58 AM | permalink All original material and original images are copyright (c) 2003-2012, desertcat.blogspot.com, unless otherwise noted. All rights reserved. FAIR USE NOTICE: This site may contain copyrighted material the use of which has not been pre-authorized by the copyright owner. Such material is made available to advance understanding of political, economic, scientific, social, art, media, and cultural issues. The 'fair use' of any such copyrighted material that may exist on this site is provided for under U.S. Copyright Law. In accordance with U.S. Code Title 17, Section 107, material on this site is distributed without profit to persons interested in such information for research and educational purposes. If you want to use any copyrighted material that may exist on this site for purposes that go beyond 'fair use', you must obtain permission from the copyright owner. Disclaimer: Any stories, accounts of events or statements of fact herein, may be a fictionalized account of actual events or be entirely fictional. Nothing written herein is intended to be interpreted as factual or true. "Desert Cat", "Daisycat", "Momcat", and "Dadcat" are fictitious names and fictional characters and may not bear any resemblance to real persons. The use of these names is copyrighted (c) 2003-2011, desertcat.blogspot.com, and all rights are reserved. LEGAL DISCLAIMER: You are responsible for your own life. All data and information provided on this site is For Informational Purposes Only. The owner of this weblog make no representations as to the accuracy, completeness, suitability or the validity of any information on this site. The owner of this weblog will not be liable for any errors, omissions or delays in this information; nor for any losses, injuries or damages arising from its display or use. All information provided is OPINION, and is to be used at you own risk. COMMENT POLICY: All comments left on this weblog become the property of the blog proprietor and are subject to editing or deletion. This blog has a zero tolerance policy for comment spam. All efforts in all forms to utilize the comment section for SEO or commercial promotion purposes will be expunged and contact information will be blacklisted with Disqus. Comments that exceed stupidity limits (arbitrarily defined in the sole determination of the blog proprietor) shall be subject to editing or deletion at the sole discretion of the blog proprietor. This is not a free speech zone. If you object to any portion of this policy, your only recourse is to refrain from commenting. |
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