Neanderpundit

there isn’t much in the way of anything you can say. I think today of my uncle Calvin, and I realize words can’t do very much to portray the things that happened, the feelings of those it happened to, the memories.

Today we went to the Indy 1500, (though it seemed more like the Indy 250), and Partner bought a 1911 Infantry rifle, damn his eyes. I haven’t seen such a fine example in my life. We got the old timer selling it down to (undisclosed amount far below it’s value). He also took home an excellent smle, with only a few stock patches and a perfect bore.

And then he found a Krag bayonet. Looking so perfect it looked like it was all stainless, in the steel scabbard.

I managed to buy nothing at all, probably a good idea, for me.

Then we retired to Brigid’s, where we ate outselves stupid, Partner, Rich, and I. We were joined in our gustatory adventures by Midwest Chick and Mr B.

We could probably have sat and yapped all afternoon, but the opiate laced dessert was taking it’s toll on me, and the time came to leave.

I suppose that enjoying ourselves on D day is the very best way we can remember and celebrate the sacrifice of all those that came- and went- before. They died so we could have enjoyable sunday afternoons with friends in little fear. Say a little prayer tonight in remembrance. And be jealous of those of us who were lucky enough to eat Brigid’s cooking today.

in even modest quantities tend to be, to me, like eating a hand grenade. And I love them so.

Today, i managed to make it to westforths unaffected, but on the way to Blythes I felt the Call, and manged to do things to their customer crapper that are best undescribed.

At least it flushed.

Almost five years to the day, another dead girl.

Where I live, we have a fairly large number of Dutch, and they operate many of the local businesses. it’s pretty easy to tell which businesses, they’re the only ones invariably closed on sunday.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m all about people following their religious convictions, and I’m glad of those who do. My problem comes with the fact that these Dutch are hardcore profiteers, and always have been, and it smacks of hypocrisy. They are anxious to rip you off six days a week, but have to shut their doors on sunday so they can be holy. This is not a trait of the whole community, but just a few of the businesspeople. I’ve also had an issue with the fact that the Dutch were the ones who worked hardest at bringing the slave trade to the US.
So the idea that a well to do Dutch scumbag is wandering around the planet banging and murdering young girls and getting away with it, for the most part, plays into what I must admit are old prejudices on my part, but I’m damned if it helps me do anything to ameliorate those prejudices, either.

To be completely transparent, I do know many dutch people, and find them to be fine and hardworking, the yardstick by which I measure anyone. My prejudices are reserved for a select few, like the lumberyard owner who used students from the local high school to build most of the houses in this neighborhood; the lumberyard was paid to set up this ‘Apprenticeship” program, which provided them with what amounts to slave labor to build fifty-plus homes, which were then far outside the financial resources of those very students. The final insult is that my street and the neighborhood bear the name of the lumberyard’s owner.

Fuck ’em. I got no use for this kind of scumbag, and i hope the girl’s parents hunt him down, and kill him slowly over the course of three or four years.