Nigeria embraces Arms Trade Treaty as murder, chaos and terror reign

But the government has guns, so that's okay, right Horwitz?

Meanwhile, three lessons in what passes for economics in the collectivist paradise that used to be called Rhodesia.

Policeman rapes 14-year-old girl, 'compensates' her with US $2.

Bulawayo man (29) sells fresh foreskin to 2 women for US $150.

Zim guy who married Bona Mugabe identified, President Mugabe didn't charge much.

The Chikore family paid a bride prize, but reporters could not establish how much was paid or the number of cattle the President would receive.

"He (President Mugabe) did not charge much. He said he was, more than anything else, interested in seeing that the new couple lived happily together first," said the source . . .

The Bureaucracies That Ate Obama

"Scandals are symptoms of a government too complex for anyone to control—including conservatives."

My less-than-optimal day.

"Oy vey." by Phillip Sherwood-Berndt.

Oy vey. Where to start about yesterday? Perhaps at the beginning, I guess.

Got to the out-patient testing facility (which is an annex to Trinity Medical Center) before 0800. Filled out the paperwork, drank the disgusting contrast and waited. And waited. Finally about 0945 they took me back for the CT scan, which required an IV to inject more dye into my bloodstream. So they stuck me. And stuck me. And stuck me. Five times, which given previous experiences was no big deal but we had obviously exceeded the competence of the nurses running the MRI machine. So they sent for the hospital's chief IV nurse with her portable imager to find a vein. Six sticks later, she got a line. Eleven sticks, now that's a personal best for me. So, onward and upward for the test. . . Or, not.

I'm in the enclosed MRI tube, head sticking out, radioactive dye half in, minding my own business and hoping I can still make the oncologist doctor's appointment at 1030 when, without preamble, the machine began sounding like a bowling ball in a washing machine accompanied by peculiar grinding sounds and a banshee chorus of a shriek that sounded nothing so much as my ex-wife on a tear -- all magified by the fact that I'm inside the tube and the noise is being generated just a few inches from my head. Now, this is not my first rodeo with such machines so I knew that something less than-than-optimal was going on. The operator was in the little glass-fronted room watching me and of course we're wired for sound so I said, "Uh, I think we have a problem here." She shut down the machine, came in and asked me if she'd really heard the thumping-grinding-ex-wife-shrieking sound. "Yeah," I said, "I think your machine's broke." Now in 18 years of operating such machines, she gave me to understand, she had never had this happen. So, of course, she turned it back on for more thumping-grinding-shrieking, with me still in the tube. Resisting the urge to crawl out, I suggested that she turn it off now that she'd satisfied her curiosity. She did. Fortunately it still worked to the extent that I could be extracted without crawling.

OK. Re-evaluate in the light of changed circumstances. Dye's half in, IVs still in place. "Have you got another machine?" I asked. They were ahead of me and had already called over to the main hospital, so they sat me down in their waiting room, knobby knees sticking out from under the hospital gown, to await the chariot to come fetch me. Where I wait. And wait. Chariot arrives. Get to where the other machine is in the main hospital. Waiting room packed. I'm on the on-ramp of a very crowded freeway, it seems. So I wait. And wait. Me in my gown and the room is colder than my ex-wife's heart. (It's never hotter than her temper, either. Divorce lends a certain sense of perspective. If somebody shoots at me and misses, it's still not as bad as my first marriage. This allows me to take much adversity with serene equanimity.)

Someone comes in to make a pot of coffee, which is right in front of me. And the coffee begins to trickle like a babbling brook. Now I've been NPO since before midnight, but the liquid in the nasty contrast they made me drink what seemed like a half-gallon of has now had time to be processed through the kidneys. The chill, the trickle, and now I've got to urinate like a race horse. Can't get the wheelchair lock on the left off because of the delicate IV, which I dare not compromise. Nothing for it, but I'll have to walk, out the room, down the hall. My dignity will not survive the trip, but the bladder insists. I get up, careful to bring along the bag with my clothes, wallet, and most importantly, my pocket pistol, with me. With not enough hands, despite my best efforts, the gown gapes in back. A child in the waiting room snickers. Oh, what the heck, she didn't see anything too anatomical, I tell myself. I have to do this twice more before they come for me. Whatever.

The new machine is an open MRI and the rest of the test goes without a hitch. I have now long missed my doctor's appointment, and he is now in surgery, so I kill some time by going to the cafeteria where there is a Subway. I am hungry enough to eat that sick snake from last week. Eat my small egg and cheese on flat-bread with olives. They charge for water so I do without. But, I've eaten, my clothes are back on and my KelTec P3AT is in my pocket. Things are looking up. I make it over to the doctor's office to, you guessed it, wait. They come out and ask me where my IV is at. They took it out, I answer. They berate me. It seems this did not coincide with their wishes since they had called over to the test room to tell them to leave it so they could easily draw the routine blood sample they need. Actually, that was pretty smart on their part. Unfortunately, the message was not acted upon, nor did it get to me. They calm down. Yep, you guessed it, now they have to stick me again. After my twelfth unsuccessful stab of the day, I call a halt. They will have to do without the blood-work this day.

Finally get in to see the doc. The news is better than I thought. No sign of tumor regeneration, but I'm retaining fluid. The doc believes that this -- not the failure of the glue -- is the explanation for the liquid still oozing out my back and further, is due to the Gleevec anti-cancer medicine I'm taking (apparently a common side effect). So, the test is so clean that he believes we can discontinue the Gleevec for a month and see if the wound on my back heals up. I'm willing to try. There is always recourse to the referral to another surgeon at UAB.

So, I leave the doctor's office a little after 1400. I have to pick up Rosey at work by 1600. In the meantime I have to go home, hitting the bank and the post office in Pinson on the way before getting to her work in Moody. Strangers in badly-navigated cars try to kill me on the way. It is tight, but I make it. Someone walks by and asks innocently, "How was your day?" I merely laugh. It is a chuckle, not an insane cackle, so I know I'm still in control. There is nothing else to do but laugh. In fact, laughing at this point is downright therapeutic. I'm still laughing when I get home.

And now, dear readers, you know about my less-than-optimal day. I hope it explains why I haven't posted a thing for the last 26 hours.

Off shortly to my next C-T scan, and thence to the oncologist.

So many co-pays, so little time. Keep me in your prayers.

Dead Elephant Party Hacks Freaking Out.

Eve of Destruction.

It is almost impossible to find an establishment Republican in town who’s not downright morose about the 2013 that has been and is about to be. Most dance around it in public, but they see this year as a disaster in the making, even if most elected Republicans don’t know it or admit it.

"Trust us," they say.

NSA broke privacy rules thousands of times per year, audit finds

Blood dancing with the collectivist stars.

Newly discovered 'gun control playbook' codifies old strategy of 'blood dancing'

This is one of the greatest differences between those of us who defend the Constitutionally guaranteed, fundamental human right of the individual to keep and bear arms, and those who would rob us of it if they could. We see the slaughter of innocents as unmitigated evil, without a single redeeming quality. They, on the other hand, see it as opportunity--they need the dead children, the puddles of blood, in order to win support for forcible citizen disarmament. That disarmament, of course, renders still more people defenseless. From among them will come the next "opportunity."

Dissecting alleged "Fantasies."

Please give this fellow the courtesy of reading his entire article before returning here for my critique: "The fantasy of “Modern Militia” and the III%."

Let's begin with some basic things about local militia that we certainly agree upon:

2. Learn your AO. Master it. . .

3. Be realistic about your preps and plans. . .

4. Network. Know your neighbors – especially if you live out in the boonies. . .

Now, for the rest:

I’ve seen a lot over the years. More than I really care for. But what leaves me amazed is the folks in the “Patriot Movement”, the “III%”, and the Militia Movement that believe they will make some grandiose stand ala Lexington Green to face down the evil and corruption we are confronted with. It makes for good fiction and film but is it feasible?

In two words – f**k no. Those fine folks clad in multicam with their ARs, AKs, and other assorted Tchotchkes and gee-gaws assembled as the bastions for liberty are going to find one thing at that future Lexington Green – their wholesale slaughter. And when it happens the “revolution” is going to be televised all right – only it will be portrayed by the MSM as “separatists” “sovereign citizens” “right-wing radicals” “racists” and god knows what else. Large unit tactics of any kind are an easy invitation to easily clean up for unca screwya.

Now that's quite a straw man, because I haven't seen anything like that in the Constitutional militia movement since the early idiocies of the 90s. Large public units are beyond passe, with most self-defense formations being local, made up of friends, family and neighbors. They've learned the lessons of the 90s when large public units were routinely infiltrated, riddled with informers and provocateurs and subject to set-ups such as the ATF carried out on Bob Starr over in Georgia. The overwhelming majority of armed citizenry formations these days are, at best, squad-sized. Yet they know of, and sometimes interface with, other small formations. The author's advice to "Quit reading and practicing Army small unit tactics straight out of the FMs. . . you’re not going to win at the Battalion or Company level fight . . . drop FM 7-8" is a bit contradictory since FM 7-8 is titled Infantry Rifle Platoon and Squad and has nothing to do with company or battalion tactics. It would seem that he is not enamored of the four-man fire team tactics taught in 7-8 (from his later embrace of the "combat triad") but one does not need a straw man lede and a misrepresentation of the fire team and squad tactical manual to make that point.

As for myself, I have always been a fan of the thirteen-man Marine Corps squad, consisting of three four-man fire teams and a squad leader, with designated marksmen and improvised rifle grenadiers replacing the automatic weapons and M203s. The four-man fire team is familiar to both Marine Corps and Army veterans. It is the basic tactical building block that all are familiar. It is much more robust than the triad in the absorption of eventual casualties. But were that the extent of our disagreement, I wouldn't have wasted the time responding. The article's title suggests more about the author's intent than mere desire to impart tactical advice can explain.

My first point is that the author assumes that the function of the armed citizenry is solely to confront "TPTB" -- that old, omniscient, all-powerful boogeyman, "The Powers That Be." Yet to prepare for that and only that is to deny the rest of the Founders' intent for the "well-regulated militia." Militia formations have to be ready to confront multiple situations that the author ignores -- disaster operations, confronting breakdowns of law and order, sometimes in support of local authorities, sometimes in their absence. The fire-team and squad tactics of FM 7-8 are eminently suitable for dealing with looters, even large gangs of them, as most are untrained, undisciplined, individualistic and opportunistic raiders easily deterred by competent military force, even a couple of fire teams combining with others, or, more likely in an emergency, filling out the trained cadre with volunteers of some experience (and that experience will be with four-man fire teams). Thus a trained four-man fire team, familiar with its AO, can expand to a squad with each fire-team member becoming a leader of his/her own fire-team with the fourth member acting as squad leader.

"The struggle we are waging (in the East) against the Partisans resembles very much the struggle in North America against the Red Indians. Victory will go to the strong, and strength is on our side. At all costs we will establish law and order there." -- Adolf Hitler, 8 August 1942, from Hitler's Table Talk, 1941-1944: His Private Conversations, page 469.

Well, that didn't quite work out the way Hitler intended, and while the Partisans sure didn't kick the Wehrmacht out of Russia by themselves, neither were the Germans ever able to suppress them. Russia was just too vast. And that brings me to my principal criticism of the author's arguments.

The first string of items labelled one through three begin with "TPTB already have a monopoly on appreciable force." This is remarkably similar to the whole "resistance is futile" argument of the citizen disarmament folks ("the government has A-bombs, you don't, so you lose") and smacks of the same defeatism. The whole shorthand characterization of "The Powers That Be" assumes that the collectivists who run the regime have overwhelming power that -- more importantly -- will be obeyed in what will be a political war that is of their own making. This assumes levels of competence, legitimacy and subordinate loyalty down the chain of command that they certainly will not have. This regime is delegitimizing itself as fast as it can, and that's before it asks its soldiers and police to turn their guns on their own people.

Secondly, comparing a civil war in the United States with the counterinsurgencies in Iraq and Afghanistan is, in sheer land masses and population sizes, laughable. Look up the populations of those two countries, look up their sizes, and compare them to the United States. Like I said, laughable. Just as laughable as Hitler's boast that he was going to beat the Partisans in the vast marshes and forests of the Soviet Union and Poland. And not even Hitler was faced with the prospect of fighting a civil war against his own people within his cities and across his own logistical production plants and communications networks. Atomic bombs, even Abrams tanks, are of limited utility in such a scenario.

Thirdly, as Clausewitz famously observed, "In military affairs, quantity has a quality all its own." Leaving aside the fact that most of the tip-of-the-spear units of the United States military are made up of OUR sons and daughters (since collectivists don't teach their kids the responsibility of defending the country), we have the bastards outnumbered even before the inevitable individual desertions and wholesale defections that such tyranny would provoke. That is the whole point of the Three Percent. Yes, we are a determined minority but compared to what? We ARE everywhere, and even if you count that Three Percent as 3% of American firearm owners not of the entire population, we still have the bastards surrounded.

I say again, plainly, to assign too much power to "The Powers That Be" not only ignores complex realities but it is, unintentional or not, defeatism. One might as well yell, "Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain!"

Item 2. in the author's initial list says, before going on again about how powerful "The Powers That Be" are, "You probably won’t get the chance to mass to begin with." Mass? Who said anything about massing? Again the straw man pokes his empty head up out of the corn to the complete unconcern of the savvy crows.

I would refer the author, and you gentle readers to my piece Tyrants beware. 4th Generation Warfare: How the next civil war will be fought.

In a country as well armed as the United States, successful 4GW only requires the dissemination of an idea. And you cannot kill an idea. As wrote back in 2009, "decapitation," the regime's favorite counterinsurgency strategy, works both ways:

Johnston is as wrong as he can be when comparing past history to 4th Generation warfare, distributed networks and leaderless resistance, especially as will be practiced in the United States if it ever goes to war with itself.

He is wrong, but the powerful men and women he is writing for think he's right.

Unfortunately for them, in the situation the administration would find itself after Waco Two, the "decapitation" strategy would for them more resemble Russian Roulette played with an automatic pistol.

Hypothetical: They kill some of (the Three Percent), at first accidentally perhaps, but almost immediately thereafter intentionally. The spasm of defensive killing begins, targeted at their leadership. They spasm in return. They would not be able to scuttle into their "green zones" fast enough. For each clumsy attack on (the Three Percent), they receive a lesson in the 500 meter war, one bullet (or many bullets) at a time. They commit "collateral damage" of our innocents, (the Three Percent) stay(s) within the rules of engagement and kill only war-planners and war-wagers.

I have asked this question before. They will fight to the last ATF agent or to the last oath-breaking soldier. Will they fight to the first senior bureaucrat, the second Congressman, the third newspaper editor, the fourth Senator, the fifth White House aide? Can they stand Bill Clinton's rules of engagement?

Do you see anything in my concepts of 4GW as applied by the Three Percent in a hypothetical American civil war that says anything about "massing"? It is a scarecrow argument, written for what purposes I can only guess.

I invite your comments.

Send in the clowns.

The White House Thinks Terrifying Overreaction to Rodeo Clown Appropriate

Now that the White House has weighed in on the incident via an official spokesperson, and their response was to lament on how the incident reflects negatively on the state of Missouri, the only conclusion we are left to draw is that this White House condones the absurdly defensive overreaction. This is what anyone who dares mock the president is due.

This is a disturbing and, frankly, terrifying development. Any classical liberal should be offended at the prospect that a presidential administration would use its considerable leverage to justify the suppression of the right of average citizens to freely mock and deride the political class without the fear of reprisal. Indeed, lampooning and creating caricatures of political figures is a foundational American value. To attack that value is to attack what it means to be a citizen of the republic.

Outstanding.

A must-watch video.

Presented without comment. New Mexico collectivist anti-firearm zealot dies of complications of infection.

It is reported that Stephen Easley has died. It is further reported that he died of complications from an infection. May God have mercy on his collectivist soul.

What a crock of horseshit and wishful thinking.

Flint-area law enforcement agencies hope free gun locks will decrease violence with stolen guns

Death by Cliche'.

From my friend John Russell at IRN News.

"I am Spartacus."

"And no, I don’t think it’s a joke. This has long since stopped being just a game."

Kurt Hofmann: "Bloombeg apologist makes no pretense of reasonable suspicion for stop-and-frisk."

A decent person cannot help but cling to the fervent hope that there will one day be a reckoning for all the evils in the world. Let us further hope that this reckoning will extend to the cheerleaders for those evils. Ready for the reckoning, Podhoretz?

A little smuggling news.

Reverse Comancheros. Indians smuggle cigarettes to the white man: ATF agents target smuggled cigarettes. I've always wondered why they don't smuggle guns and ammo on those reservations that span the Mexican and Canadian borders. Well, maybe I've done a little more than wonder.

Deep in the heart of Texas. Keeping the world safe from the twin scourges of okra and blackberries. Cops can't tell difference between pot and tomatoes.

Arlington Farm Owners Demand Apology From Police After Drug Raid Comes Up Empty

"Eaker told NBC 5 that the six adults who live at the farm - what they describe as a community that has come together with the common values of freedom, sustainability and consciousness - were handcuffed when SWAT officers from the Arlington Police Department came to their home with weapons drawn. The handcuffs are standard procedure during the search of suspected narcotics operations, according to Sgt. Christopher Cook of the Arlington Police Department. Tactical officers assisted in the execution of the search warrants to secure the location so narcotics detectives could safely enter the property, police noted in a statement to NBC 5."

Nuts. Tell me again about that whole "government monopoly of violence" thing. A strange tale of The Only Ones that CSGV want us to trust with firearms.

Forwarded to me under the headline "Pair Of Lauderhill Police Arrested For Alleged Sexual Battery" with the comment, "Psychos are us." "Officer Hartley, according to police, and the passenger had lengthy detailed sexual encounter. Once it was over, Officer Merenda allegedly told the driver to strike him in the genitals. The driver hesitated, authorities said, but Officer Hartley encouraged her to do so because it derived pleasure for Officer Merenda. The driver eventually complied with the Officers request, striking Officer Merenda in the genitals."

Sort of a "man bites dog story."

A real rarity: Cp[ encounters pit bull and DOESN'T shoot it.