Fry Him

Zacarias Moussaoui testified in open court that he and convicted shoe bomber Richard Reed were supposed to have flown a fifth airliner into the White House on September 11th.

He boasted about meeting Osama bin Laden . He seemed proud of his place in history. He testified during the penalty phase of his trial.

So impose the death penalty; strap him to a chair and fry him.

Another Misstep

The Department of Homeland Security is really mislabeled. Once again, they've blown a serious bolt.

The image is of a radiation detector for scanning cargo containers. DHS has issued a no-bid contract to Hutchinson Whampoa Ltd. to run this operation in Freeport, Bahamas.

A little history lesson: Hutchinson Whampoa Ltd. is an extension of the Chinese military and it one the bribery (eh, I mean bidding war) to control the Panama Canal. It won a 25 year lease with an option for another 25 years. Yes boys and girls, Slick Willy sat by while the Chinese Communists took control of a major asset in the western hemisphere.

Freeport, Bahamas is the largest Free Trade Zone in the western hemisphere. That translates into a lot of cargo. What strikes me odd here is that a couple of years ago, the Bush Administration blocked a subsidiary company from taking control of Global Crossing (for national security concerns). In 1999 the Pentagon had a secret report citing Hutchinson Whampoa Ltd. as a potential security risk for smuggling arms and contraband into the country through Freeport.

Suddenly, its just dandy to hand over security for radiation detection to a Chinese Asset. While Hutchinson Whampoa Ltd. is technically distinct from the Beijing Government, there are major connections between senior company executives and senior Politburo members.

Lest we forget these are the same benevolent folks that forced down a Navy Rivet Joint recon plane in April 2001, and they have several nuclear missiles pointed at the western United States.

China has not renounced its claim on Taiwan. It has not retargeted its missiles, and it continues to build a military machine far in excess of its needs. Besides they are communists and how do you know a communist is lying--their lips are moving.

Corporate Manuals

You need to understand that my little consulting company consists of eight legs and three heads--that's two human and Rippers the Black Lab. When it comes down to corporate manuals, they tend to cover the basics such as the menu for the nearest pizza joint.

On a recent engagement, we were given a list of phone numbers. They were organized into categoris like medical, fire, severe weather, bomb threat checklist.

Whoa! Bomb threat checklist you say. Now when it come things make loud noises with guns and fireworks, I'm all for that sort of thing. Naturally I turned to the bomb threat checklist.

So when a mad bomber calls, I am supposed to be calm, courteous and listen carefully. Whatever happened to run like hell?

After the bomber has deliver his message, then I'm supposed to ask: When will the bomb go off? Where is the bomb? What kind of bomb is it? My guess it is the kind that makes a loud noise and messes up the rest of your day.

Back to the checklist. I'm suppose to get a name and address. Perhaps an email address, website, favorite color, birthdate and pet's name. The checklist even has place for my name, date and time. Once I'm done shooting the breeze (bad choice of words) , I am immediately supposed to dial 911 and then notify the receptionist.

I guess running from building, shrieking, "Bomb! Bomb! Bomb!" is inappropriate.

Charles De Bono Award

Today I will attend the Eden prairie Chamber of Commerce luncheon. I will be there as a guest seated close to the front.

The annual Charles De Bono Award will be given to someone who has shown themself to be exceptional volunteer over past several years. It is quite an honor.

People called him Charlie. He was born in 1917 or 1918 on a ship at the end of World War I. He grew up in Italy, France, and North Africa. When the next war rolled around he saw both battles for Tobruk up close and personal (he never talked about it).

He worked as an engineer for the Birtish. He came to America in 1949. One of the millions that entered through Ellis Island, and he marveled at the Statue of Liberty. Over the next four decades he worked for General Mills, raised a family and settled in Minnesota. In retirement he joined the Senior Core of Retired Executives and spent the rest of his life helping out.

The painting is of the Grand Canal in Venice. It is presented to the volunteer of year with a plaque commemorating their selflessness.

This is going to be a tough day. Old memories will float to the surface, and I'll wonder anew if I can ever stand in his shoes. You see while others called him Charlie, I called him dad.

Ruth Buzzy's rant

Justice Ruth Buzzy told a South African audience that right wing, nut cases had threaten to kill her Justice O'Connor last year.

Probably not the first time someone has wanted to off a Supreme Court Justice. They have such a sterling record: Marvbury v. Madison, Dredd Scott, Roe v. Wade, Kelo v. New London.

However, blowing away one of these nimrods does not promote liberty or justice or anything else. It just makes whoever does something like that a murderer. Regardless the political motivation, assassination is not the way to go.

Now the reason for this current attack, according to Ruth, is because she and Justice O'Connor used foreign laws to determine some cases.

Gee whiz, is it any reason a few people are torqued off about that? Do we study the French for military strategy? Do we look to the Russians for lessons in democracy? Do we check out the Chinese for models in civil liberties?

I hope not, but maybe these bimbos are doing just that. The Supreme Court is an American court. It is supposed to adjudicating American laws.

There is a way to get rid of these people. IMPEACH THEM! Of course this would require the gutless wonders in the House and Senate to earn their money. And any impeachment of Ruth Buzzy would polarize into a nasty political battle.

Yet the Republic shuffles forward...

Truth in Advertising

They say a picture speaks a thousand words. This one is worth about a million. Debbie Stabenow toted her placard to the well of the senate. She wants to make a point.

Of course, her point is that Bush lied or Cheney lied or the War is illegal or whatever. Listening to a senate speech is akin to having all your teeth drilled.

The Bush Administration may be tone deaf when it comes to the political impact of the Dubai ports deal, but obviously, Senator Debbie is brain dead. No one on her staff or in the democratic brain trust stopped to think how this might look to those of us in fly over country. Certainly, they never imagined that Matt Drudge would post it on his site.

DANGEROUSLY INCOMPETENT--the Democratic Party, what can I add? Nothing. The picture says it all.

Out the Airlock

I knew the Battlestar Galactica crew could get back to what really counted (i.e. espisodes that advance the story and don't wander into too-cute-by-half territory).

I've seen the final season two espiode and it is classic BSG. If you thought things were grim when Adama got shot, or perhaps you only watched the miniseries and witnessed the entire human race getting nuked, things have gone from bad to worse--which is good for BSG fans.

I listened to the podcast. RDM and company were having a grand old time smoking, drinking and cussing, not necessarily in that order. It might be nice if they were little less "tuned up" when they did the podcasts, but the sound of Johnny Walker sloshing in the glasses almost makes up for the occaisional garbage truck rumbling by outside. You see the producer makes the podcasts in his 10 x 10 study at home.

I admit that I was more than a little worried as the second half of season two progressed. The the pacing and keen sense evident in season one seemed to have slipped a cog. Anyway the Galactica world has merrily sauntered out the airlock sans spacesuit, and we have to wait until October to see the next installment.

You better hurry up with the DVD set for Season Two Part Two.

Taxe$$$$ @!#%

I did my taxes last night and went to bed mumbling about the frightening sum I owed Uncle Sam.

This morning I packed the Durango and headed off to the range. You see I have a tradition. After I complete the annual mugging and pilfering for April 15, I exercise my Second Amendment rights and blow plenty of holes in targets down range.

This year was heavy on the .45 ACP. I think I went through about 350 rounds, employing my Tommy Gun and full size Glock. I followed it up with some.357 Magnum and 9mm.

While the sound and the fury did not reduce my tax bill (grrrr), it did temper my outlook.

The Revolt is On

South Dakota has passed and signed an abortion ban.

Mississippi is considering similar legislation.

Tennessee has started the process to amend its constitution to outlaw abortion.

States are daring to challenge the Supreme Court. Raw judicial power made Roe v Wade the law of the land. Law of the land is an odd phrase to associate with a court that does not have legislative authority.

The idea of state's rights frightens people. They dredge up memories of the Jim Crow laws. However, we seem to have traded one evil for another.

The reason nominations to the Supreme Court are so hotly contested comes down to the desires of the right and left to have their nine black robed monkeys in power. America is a republic, not a democracy, not an oligarchy.

These states and other are asserting their constitutional power and thumbing their nose (or other appendages) at the federal power.

It is long overdue.

Game 7

Kirrrrrrrrrrrrby Puckett was how it went in the Twins glory days. Kirby was a larger than life character that carried the Minnesota Twins to two championships. From all accounts, he was an everyday guy that attained hero status. Certainly on the field he had no equals.

His game saving catch and game winning home run brought the Twins to Game 7 in 1991. It is the only World Series game I ever attended. While the seventh game that year game down to a pitchers duel, none of us would have been at the Metrodome to see a small market team win it all had it not been Kirby.

Unfortunately, like all men, he had feet of clay off the field. Those issues aside, Kirby suffered a massive and fatal stroke. He has gone on to his final game, for he stands before the ultimate umpire.

Thanks for the memories.

Humbling Experience

On March 3, 2006 I tested for 4th degree black belt. The test consists of basic kicks, classical karate, form (i.e.kata), combination kicks and punches, and self defense.

I tested for 1st degree in 1997, 2nd in 1999, and 3rd in 2002--so the testing format was not new to me. However, I was so focused on getting to and through the test that I did not reflect on what this belt level meant until after it was over.

In the early 1990s there were Ninja Turtles and my kids wanted to take karate. I followed them into the program months later. I remember sitting down with Cris Nelson and signing up for a 1 year program. I was out of shape and overweight having feasted on Doritos and Twinkies over the years. My idea of exercise was laying on the couch with the cat and watching the Vikings.

My life style and habits have changed radically since then. Cris is now a 6th degree black belt, he runs the National Karate Schools in Chicago, and he is a good friend.

There were 79 people testing for black belts. Four were testing for 5th degree, Alex Dingmann and I were testing 4th. Everyone else was testing for a lower belt level. The four people testing for 5th were Geoff Driscoll, Jesse Zaragoza, Gregg Sutherland and Kelly Worley. (So what am I doing here?) Perhaps those names don't mean anything outside of the National Karate context, all of them were instructors before I got off the couch. I've seen what these guys can do, and here I was standing next to them and testing for a very advanced belt. (This must be somebody's idea of a joke.)

I perused the program. There is a section where they list active black belts at 3rd degreee and higher. There are less than 2 dozen active 4th degree black belts--all of those are current or former instructors (except for me). Now I'm part of that list. I shoot guns, write books and run a consulting business.

My karate is not flashy. I don't do multiple spin jumps. I don't defy gravity. I am more of a ground based creature. So for my karate to work I have to concentrate on the basics. I know how to fight. I know how to defend myself and I hit the pads really, really hard.

As with many things in life, this is bittersweet. My father never saw me get that first black belt. He was quite interested in what I was doing and most Fridays over lunch he usually asked how it was going. He died of cancer five weeks before I tested in 1997.

Finally, I was that kid in school that got picked last in Phy-Ed. I did not do well in sports or anything athletic. The same kid grew up to become a 4th degree black belt. I think the only person who thought that might be possible is Cris Nelson. It just happened to me, and I still don't believe it.

Ballistic Research #1

Ballistic Research is a vital part of the Systems Consulting culture (Systems Consulting being the company that I run). Some guys play golf. Some guys fish. Some guys contemplate their navels. We all have names for what we do.

I shoot guns. Of course, I need something put in my schedule that doesn't sound like took-a-bag-of-guns-to-the-range-and-made-a-lot-of-noise, so I call it ballistic research.

Recently, I added a new gun to the arsenal of democracy--a Model 1927 Tommy Gun. I'll readily admit that this is not a practical gun. It weighs about 13 pounds and a bolt spring King Kong would find challenging, but boy does it put a smile on your face.

Brian and I went down to the Burnsville range to test it out. We had a few problems with packing grease, but once we ironed out those issues, we threw 200 rounds down range and tore out the middle of targets.

Normally, a .45 ACP pistol wears me down after while. As long as you can keep this sucker level, you can shoot all day long. Recoil is minimal, but the fun is maximum.

And isn't this better than chasing a silly white ball over grass?