Tuesday, November 17, 2015


At some point in all the pomp and personal posturing, the platitudes and politically correct parsing, the absurdity of watching a French president declare a war of sorts (hey 20 bombs is a lot if that's all you have) ahead of the G20 Summit is tragic comedy defined. As a member of NATO the French must be shocked that the other 28 members haven't joined them yet as agreed by the terms of the NATO alliance.

The governments of the G20 member nations and NATO have not only profoundly failed their people, but in all the "P"s above over the last 25 years they have indeed sold them cheap to the slaughterhouse that is in the process of overtaking the entire European continent. 

It's coming soon to an American city near you if our leaders have their way.

Their governments f**cked every one of them, man, woman, child, corporation, company, church, and synagogue. City (Paris), country (France) and citizen (aka "the French people) are more cuckold than ever before in the history of representative governments on earth. Yet, even the French know a war when it's finally on them. 

Even the French know a thing or two about being cuckold.  Even the French, it seems, have awakened to the sense of sending men to do what must be done now that the bullets have anchored the victims to their chalk marks in the Gun Free Bataclan Theatre.

As distasteful as the title reads and at a time when solidarity is called for by the Sirens of taste, charity, feelings and civil company; the entire G20 member nations except the United States of America have convinced nation, state and person to trust the devil's trade: more security for less freedom. 

They all believed. They ridiculed America. Who are we to have freedom of speech and self defense? Silly Americans, the Constitution is sooooo outdated and written by old privileged white dudes.

But, instead on opening their trade prize what they got was repression, murder, tragedy, terrorism and submission to radical, murderous, pedophilic tyrants who are cloaked in the tyranny of belief. First in the form of the Charlie Hebdo massacre and still not waking to their garden of evil, the theatre of horrors that will forever be the Bataclan theatre.

Jefferson, Madison and Adams would not be surprised, but hey, they had white privilege....and could think good, too.

So now we're asked by the ever genteel elites to stand with France. Well f**k that. 

Any novice could have made that shot in Bataclan theatre. And any novice may have missed. But what if 10 more people escaped because sudden opposition turns plans into chaos and incoming rounds makes dreams seem so like yesterday? 

The chorus from left just plays into those willing to use terror by quickly claiming themselves to be powerless to resist evil. We can all see you hiding like cowards behind that curtain as the pee stain of your cowardice runs onto your unhidden Birkenstocks. You're not fooling anyone but yourselves.

"Resisting is futile! You could harm others!" Get on your knees and take your beheading like the effeminate bitch you have become.

Liberals so willingly comply with their never ending self-loathing. They've even shifted the blame inward to western societies in some masochistic guilt trip.  Don't they know it denies terrorists their satisfaction of claiming responsibility? How thoughtless of them of other's feelings!

The  G20 member nations excluding the US have all sold the people this same shit-soup sandwich that American liberals from Krugman to Feinstein to Schumer to Obama have tried to roll up and shove up the ass of the American citizen: Gun Free Zones are for the safety of us all; it's not about the confiscation of guns; uncontrolled immigration is an act of compassion.

In the real time of the internet video we have had to watch over 26,000 attacks since 9/11/01 in which radical Muslims have wholesale slaughtered, burned, tortured, stoned, mutilated, hacked, dismembered and raped man, woman and child; Christians, Jews, Buddhists and other Muslims all over the Un-free world.

Here in America we were almost f**ked after the school shooting in Newtown CT. The great liberal cabal thought they could wad up the Constitution and rape us with shame for being unwilling to let them do what is 'best' for us all: Just quit clinging to your guns and your right to religious freedom. We'll protect you. Why can't you just be like those enlightened folks in Europe and Australia?

The G20 thought that they'd be able to force gun confiscation here. I'm sure that they agreed on it. You should be sure as well.

Now we're seeing, in real-time, the fruits of the folly. We're watching, if you have the stomach to watch, these evils played out like never before in the history of mankind on Facebook, Twitter, the blog-o-sphere, the internet. It's terrifyingly evil. It feels unstoppable. It's real time. It's f*c*ed.

So now aided by the entire G20 and NATO, masses of able bodied, military age, radical Muslim men are streaming into the socialist, politically correct, unprotected EU countries where they are demanding that to which they have been told that they are entitled. They are hungry, enraged, untrained and largely illiterate, inbred masses and militants of the religiously righteous. 

They are filled with hate, violence, greed, anger and stupidity in a bond that has welded itself to the arrogance of the G20 nations that 'thought' they'd re-write history and the nature of men. 

The G20 leadership has also agreed to import these refugees and among them they have now imported their own executioners. The enemy is within the gates because there are no gates.

Hollande of France finally has it right: This is war. And more, after 26,000 attacks worldwide, it's World War. And if your hand-wringing apologist, hanky-waving, kumbaya singing, Gun Free Zone, anti- personal freedom feelings are hurt by all this, well... *U*K YOU. 

You're part of the reason 350 people in Paris are dead, injured, and critical. Don't stand behind me when the shooting starts. 

Run if you can to your gun free 'safe zone.' Good luck with what is waiting for you there. You might want to grab a rock or two on the way.

Monday, November 11, 2013

Stranded On the Roof

They said that the battle lasted over 7 hours. I've tried to wrap my brain around how long that must feel when you keep thinking that the cavalry is on its way to the rescue. That's what happens, right?

The good guys gun-up behind barricades after a fire and fall back sprint while under heavy attack from the bad guys. You know, they're wearing civvies...civilian clothes... and the bad guys have them pinned down.

They're out numbered. They know that they can't possibly last much longer. They do the ammo count and then try to man six directions (N,S,E,W, Up, Down). We were raised knowing that the cavalry is going to make it in time. Why? Because we're the good guys, right? The good guys never leave their own if there is any chance that goodness, determination and sheer bravery can save them.

That used to be our creed. Sometime ago the story was written just that way. When was it anyway? Was it before or after the Battle of Thermoplyae where King Leonidas was never reinforced but he held his position long enough for the citizenry to be evacuated? Surely it was long before the American western movies anyway.

And it was way before we let four Americans fight for their lives in Benghazi.

It's Veteran's Day. I think about my father every day. There is no way to count the number of times that I've repeated something that he said or did. In so many ways he was both a mentor as well as a bad example. As adults we are tasked with reconciling it in our own minds and learning from it in our own lives.

King (the Most) Cavalier was 27 when he 'put down my lunch pail'; left the coal mines of Pennsylvania and joined the Army/Air Corp in 1938. He found a life in the military. He was excited to be transferred for duty to Hickam Field, HI. He was proud to have served and survived the Japanese bombing at Pearl Harbor. He was proud to have served the duration of Word War II in the Pacific theatre.

I'm sure that when he met my mom at the USO in Austin TX he was quite a dashing figure. He taught ballroom dancing, a passion he pursued until his death at 90 in 2000. In between that time he served proudly in Korea during that conflict and again in Vietnam. I was 17 when he came home. Something changed for him.

There were four of us to raise in between TDY's (temporary duty assignments) and orders overseas in first Germany and then where I spent grade school in Italy on NATO missile commands. The ol' man never said he was "in the military". He always said, "I'm a Senior Master Sergeant in the United States Air Force." In retrospect I think he meant, "you have no idea what I have seen, son."

But, I know that it changed for him because he not only wouldn't let me go; he made me understand that he felt that he'd done enough for all of us. Once when I asked about enlisting he said, "How many times have I told you to stay out of fights that you aren't willing to win?" When he came home he cancelled my appointment with the Congressman from our district to secure a recommendation for me at the Air Force Academy. Yes, something had changed.

He was right.

Thursday, May 09, 2013

Moving Out West

When the ol' man got orders back to California from Italy in 1962 we were all ecstatic. California was the promised land. It was a grand place. San Berdoo was the foothills of the San Gorgonio mountains; I hunted quail, dove, rabbits: fished Arrowhead; skiied Big Bear: surfed Newport to Ventura. Bought a 57 Chevy and traded that for a '58 Vette and then a Ranchero. My buddies and I ran to Tijuana and Ensenada; Dived from Coronado to September Reef off of Cabo all the way up the other side to Guymas and San Felipe. It was truly magic.

They re-introduced turkeys and we hunted them. We walked the PCT which runs from Mexico to Canada; climbed Tuolumne Meadows, many pitches on Half Dome up to the Salathe. Heck, I even hunted quail with the security cops at Cal State Univ San Berdoo before class 2-3 mornings per week in the abandoned vineyards behind campus. I'd come to class with my pump shotgun and vest in the trunk and we'd take turns blocking.

To say that it was Shangri-La wouldn't be an exaggeration. The schools were the best in America. The freeways were the state of the art.

I'm not sure what happened.

My mom still lives in Anaheim. Dad moved there because it was within a 50 mile radius of the best ballroom dancing in the world and a poker game could be found every night.

It had already started in So Cal. In 1978 I followed work to San Fran. I remember being so glad to finally be out of the smog and congestion. By 1982 I had lived from San Jose to Sonoma and like a dog circling to find a comfortable place to lie down; I finally gave up and moved to Jackson Hole WY. The sign at the Wyoming line says, "Forever West".

That's about right. And it's about right where it starts, too.

Years ago I was on an airplane coming back from a trade show in Chicago. Whenever I travel I wear my cowboy hat and I was aware that the lady in the seat next to me had been watching me intently as I carefully stowed it upside down in the overhead. 

When I sat down she asked, "where are you from?"

Proudly I said "WYOMING".

She said, "Really? Wow... I've never been that far west and I'd love to go sometime."

Wanting to be polite I asked, "Where are you from?"

She said, "California."

That's about right. The map may say otherwise, but we all know that they moved the line.

Sunday, January 06, 2013

Trusting In the Mercy of Evil

I imagine a world where you go out into the woods and all you have are the clothes and gear you brought on your back. No one is coming to save you . Resupply, like hope is not a strategy. You're it... and what you have better work ...EVERY TIME... all day, maybe all night, maybe all week... no matter what hits the fan. That's why King of the Mountain started.

As a society we're not used to that kind of thinking.  I and four like minded friends set out in 1975  to walk the John Muir, High Sierra, Desolation Wilderness, Angeles Crest and San Bernardino mountains. Later finishing the best parts of the Pacific Crest Trail (Mexico to Canada) separately.  We wouldn't come out for supplies all summer long. We learned a great deal about what works and what only works SOMETIMES. It set me to thinkin' ....what if all you have is all you have? What if resupply was not an option?

Lately this has become reflected in modern art by a couple of new books/ movies; The Road (adaptation of McCarthy's Pulitzer prize winning book by the same name) and The Book of Eli. Both stories are post-apocalyptic tales of a journey. The Road is taken by a father and his young son at the end of the nuclear winter. The Book of Eli is set in an America and in a world that has lost its world order. The battle ensues for the "book" that can be used to control the masses.

Many call that kind of thinkin' "Survivalist" mentality.  But, is it really survivalist (fear based, scarcity, etc)... and more is it really unthinkable?  And, if you think like that for a moment:  Wouldn't you want to have stashed someplace a very large can of WHOOPASS as well as a can of WHOOPASS small enough to take anywhere?

Where would you start?  What do you need?  How will it work? When do you need it?  Why would you want it?

I suppose this "prepper" mentality can become an obsession. Or, rightfully placed, it can also be the extension of religion. No one does this better than the Mormon community where extensive food storage and self-reliance preparedness is part of the culture. After witnessing our many recent natural disasters one has to wonder if this attitude of self-reliance and preparedness doesn't make more sense than blindly assuming that the trucks will always run and the power will always flow.

As a nation, though, haven't we honestly become like de-clawed house cats in many ways? Most urban dwellers couldn't feed themselves without robbing their neighbor. Lines of vehicles littered the streets in the Northeast after the recent hurricanes; lined up for miles to get rationed fuel; fighting broke out after hours and then became worse after days. What might it be like after weeks?

And in that world, will your cell phone bring you the law enforcement help you might need when neighbor turns on neighbor? A call to 911 in most true violent emergency cases brings a team of investigators not timely intervention. Lately we've witnessed an explosion in gun sales as perfectly rational Americans answer their own call to at least take a first step to defending themselves, their families and their property.

Americans aren't stupid. They simply vote quietly with their feet and their wallets. They avoid the confrontation with authority. This isn't the first time that good, law-abiding people have prepared themselves against lawlessness or tyranny.

And, once again, art mimics life. The Tarrantino movie, "Django" has an underlying theme that is missed by so many of the pundits and reviewers: A SLAVE is turned into a FREEMAN when he is given a gun and taught how to use it. Django’s journey mirrors the German fairy tale of Siegfried’s journey of rescuing Broomhilda.  Because slave masters didn’t want marriages, Django and Broomhilda were married in secret, but because they’re sold in different direction, they would probably never see each other again. Even though he gets his freedom, Django’s willing to go back into the pit of hell to rescue his love.

He couldn't have done that as a slave. The plantation owner played by Don Johnson wonders out loud a question that has troubled him since his youth, "there were 100's of them and few of us. I always wondered why they didn't just kill us." They didn't have the means. They had no guns.

Neither did those on Schindler's list.

Who is coming to save you and your loved ones? What about if no one is coming because they're all busy enough saving their own? Or the evil that you face has no mercy.

Life isn't a movie. At a movie in Aurora, CO recently 12 were killed and 58 were wounded by a gunman preying on an innocent crowd that all heeded the sign on the door, "GUN FREE ZONE". Over and over we've had it shown to us that there is no place in the world more dangerous than a GUN FREE ZONE. 

Whether that is a movie theatre in Colorado or the streets of Chicago, New York and Washington DC, one has to wonder about the folly of FREEMEN who choose to rely on the mercy of evil.

Wednesday, May 04, 2011


When the great Roman general, Pompey, was asked to clear the Mediterranean of pirates he told the Roman Senate that he had to have permission to follow them wherever they landed. He hunted and killed them and established a garrison on each quadrant of the Med. The greatest trade in the history of Rome and 500 years of Pax Romana followed.

The United States under the order from President Obama who ordered the US NAVY SEAL mission to kill Osama Bin Laden ignored  the sovereign border of Pakistan; hunted a criminal and killed him and his "army" right under the noses of those who were harboring them. Let's put this in the context of current events.

Gadaffi has continued his reign of terror in Libya, threatening the flow of oil much like the pirates of 40 BC threatened the flow of grain to Rome in the Mediterranean sea. The negotiations right now must be intense, Gadaffi will see that exile with a ton of his ill-gotten cash is better than the deal that we gave Bin Laden.

Further, while we took out Saddam Hussein for arguably the wrong reasons; there is no denying that having inserted a democratic state between the terrorist factions of Syria and Iran with American logistics (boots) on the ground; ships patrolling the shipping lanes; phenomenal air superiority; communications control, etc. Has allowed the US and its allies the ability to act with total impunity with drones, special team strikes and laser guided precision.

All of this has lead to a rising up of the most oppressed peoples in the world. They're emboldened by a sense that their religious, political and business leaders have enslaved them whether by dogma, embezzlement or sword. In some places one could argue all three.

The killing of Bin Laden, therefore is a water mark in history. It's the continuation of the doctrine first proposed, but abandoned by Clinton after terrorism became the modern form of warfare. The prosecution, invasion and occupation of Iraq by Bush effectively putting a wedge between Iraq and Syria; preventing their literal partners-in- crime alliance against the west. As well as the effort in Afghanistan, which logistically meant that we have the bastards surrounded, has perhaps unwittingly all served to create an opportunity for the US and its Allies to chase them across the borders and kill them.

Some things need killing or one can't have a nice garden.

The markets have reacted.  Be aware that it has nothing to do with killing one man and everything to do with killing one man.  By that I mean simply that the world just changed.  When that happens rules change. When rules change then investments and investors by nature react.

The entire world has seen a continuing total annihilation of debt formation and demand for debt. Sovereign debt, public debt and private debt, which all grew exponentially through the 1990's and 2,000's are now contracting at a rate that can't be 'pumped up' through central banks policies of increasing the money supply. It's as effective as throwing water on a counter-top in an attempt to serve everyone at the table a drink.

The only things inflating right now are those commodities that have speculative markets. What I mean is that the grain complex, the metal complex, the meats, the softs, the energy markets have all exploded. At the same time, the old definition of inflation, "too much money chasing too few goods and services." Has been supplanted with, "too little jobs, inability to qualify for credit, lack of job creation, declining consumer spending, declining public tax revenues, deficit federal, state and local budgets forcing cuts, declining pension benefits, and hedge fund monies chasing momentum models for risk trade returns."

Obama will now claim victory in the War on Terror and establish this victory as his doctrine to continue the hunt using all the intel gained from water-boarding to clandestine missions. I don't blame him, it's how the powerful put a flag in their legacies. But, make no mistake, "if it can't happen then it won't happen" is at full operation here and now. That is, we can't keep spending TRILLIONS chasing every jerk-off in the old war model of assault/ beach-head/ invasions and occupations.  It's way cheaper to send the SEALS (hooo-ah) and bring the rest of them home.  Well, most of them will come home. Like Pompey and Rome, we'll continue to keep garrisons where they serve us and our allies.

Obama will now say that we must fortify our own borders. That our national security is our top agenda even while we maintain a 'presence' in the Middle East, Afghanistan, etc. And that our allies will be more looked to for support as we did in Libya.  These are all good things.  Much as I don't like most of his domestic agenda, maybe this dividend alone will save an otherwise depressing Presidency.

Continuing to move to the center, the United States can no longer afford to give politicians a blank check on the futures of our children and grand-children.  They can't be trusted with it.  Rather than fighting incessantly about debt ceilings an budgets he will be forced by the GOP and members of his own party to adopt (and may even preemptively suggest) a balanced budget amendment.

What an incredible platform for an almost disastrously lost President to be able to run for re-election on! WOW! He would have placated his base by doing as he promised to bring the troops home and at the same time STOLEN the right's best issue against him.  He can then claim victory on two fronts and blame it all on Bush in the process.  In fairness, Bush was caught flat-footed in his last term by the stare down with Ahmadenijad. He lacked the vision or the balls or the timing to do both things himself even as the fruit dangled in front of him.

Unfortunately this won't bode as well for our markets as rule changes never happen in a clean manner. The hedge funds are all loaded in silver, gold, corn, meat, defense contractors, energy etc, etc, etc. And they've paid a tidy premium for them all through the new derivative ETF markets.  There will be some dislocations that scare the be-jesus out of the orderly markets.  Markets don't like surprises and volatility will once again be the assassin that kills your retirement portfolio, kids education, 401k. etc. WHY?

Because as always you will hold on thinking, "I am almost even and now I'll wait until it comes back."  Singing the "Bag- holders blues", again.  This will take 10 years to work out. In the meantime, while interest rates are low... they'll go lower as US T-bonds/ notes and bills become a sanctuary as safety is once again worth a premium.  In the words of my old mentor, "Screw return 'ON' my money. Let's first talk about return 'OF' my money.

And the mania of metals and commodities represented by the new derivative "ETF's" is the spider that delivers another surprise.

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

How Do You Do Christmas?

I'm so sad and so excited all at the same time this Christmas. Yeah, the boys usually spend the Day at their mother's. This year that is in Cally. Sometimes one or two will stay with me then go. But, now that their mom is transferred to Seattle: They're all in Cally where the house hasn't yet sold.

They're men now. I used to play guitar and sing them to sleep. "FUNDER ROES" DAD! would come a call from out from under the covers in the dark. A tiny voice calling out to request the Garth Brooks "Thunder Rolls" classic . Now the request is more like, "Can I borrow the truck and trailer to move my gear to California? Oh yeah, and a VISA for gas?"

I know, I know... it's the natural order of things. I'm proud as can be that their mother and I managed to somehow raise three competent, healthy, funny, able hands. How we educated them is anyone's guess. But, we did. How they rose above our divorce 12 years ago; graduated college; stayed alive through the teenage years; didn't get anyone pregnant... whew! Glad I don't have to live through that again for a while. I'm sure that someday there will be grandkids. It will be great to hear my "shit" come through their adult mouths.

Sutton just got a career job at Royal Bank of Canada Wealth Management in San Francisco. Training starts on 10 January there. He left Loveland this morning at 3 am. He sold everything he owned except his two motorcycles, tools, guns and clothes. I wonder where he got his priorities? Lucky boy, he fits my tailor made Wall Street days suits and shoes perfectly. I sent about $20,000 worth of it from 30 years of storage with him.

His younger brother, Beau, precedes Sutton in San Francisco. He got a career job at Adroll.com. It's an internet startup growing gangbusters. Beau can win the world with his smile and people skills. He's rockin' it, just got a raise, stock and the biggest paycheck he's ever had to date. Beau is the best shooter of the crew of three and I sent him a competition skeet/trap gun with vests and bag to his office. Today you can be a tranny hooker working the corner of Bush and Taylor and no one will bother you. But, recieve a cased, boxed, broken down, unloaded shotgun? "NO"! He had to take it home in a cab since he sold his car and moved to the city. I started shooting at the Pacific Rod and Gun Club (since 1928) when I worked downtown. Now he will, too.

Brannon, "Poot", the youngest is a pretty typical college boy attending an Ivy League college in New Hampshire. They practically converted him to Liberal at Thacher School in Ojai, CA where he attended high school. He rocked it there. What? You wouldn't let your kid go away to a high school where they HAVE to have a horse? Since 1889- one of the top 10 prep schools in the world. And for him, a ticket to doing very well academically, now a junior at Dartmouth. He's majoring in Mechanical Engineering/ Astro Physics and after 5 years of Chinese language has had enough to be conversant. Mostly he talks to rocks because he eats, breathes, and shits rock climbing. I sent him all the gear that applies from tele-skis/poles to harnesses, jumars, etc. He won't be able to find them on the floor of his room by the next day.

After it all, I just had the chance to tell their mother, Karen Ashworth McFarlane, who is married to a great guy, Scott, that I am thankful that she has been such a great mother to our sons. They became men when we were being worried about whether or not they brushed their teeth today. Somehow they learned the difference between right and wrong. I say it was the pushups, but she'll say it was the love. Somehow they learned to value hard work. I say it was the chores, but she'll say it was the love. Somehow they learned to have a sense of something larger than they, I say it was the daily practice, but she'll say it was the love. Somehow they learned to treat people with respect and compassion. I say it was the love.

Merry Christmas to you, however you do Christmas: pagain, Catholic, Baptist, Buddhist, whatever... 'tis the Season to celebrate the dawn of longer days, the birth of Christ, the wonder of our Universe. I hope that you celebrate something besides a higher VISA limit.

Happy New Year! 2010 is almost gone. So many changes for us all that one has to wonder if 2011 should be celebrated or sneaked up on.

No matter- Blessings to you and your whole outfit. BRING IT!

Tuesday, December 07, 2010

We Didn't Survive Pearl Harbor

Today has always been a special day for us. The five of us, my mom, me, my brother and twin younger sisters have known about the Japanese bombing of Pearl Harbor like we know each other. Dad, King the Most, survived the bombing at Hickam Field where the US Air Force was hit first by the bombers before continuing run after run on the US Navy side of the harbor.

My very earliest memory is of the ol' man walking me and my brother out on the pier that comes into view just to the right of where the USS Arizona Memorial is now. I was four or five. My brother was two or three and he carried him out as I walked beside them. If he put my brother down I was sure that he would have to retrieve him from the water. I remember it was a long walk out onto the pier on a sunny day in Hawaii.

I remember him standing there and pointing into the water, "There's the Arizona," he proclaimed. I was born in Arizona, Davis Monthan Air Force Base. We had lived in Arizona all of about six weeks. We were military and this duty station, Hawaii, the island of Oahu was where I would start school on base. We lived in on base housing. On the enlisted side and across the harbor from the Navy side where we were standing.

The proclamation sort of confused me. I remember to this day being confused as to how I could have been born on top of the water so I had asked about it. There was no ship to be seen. Dad put my brother down and commanded him to stay still. Then he lifted me up for a better angle to view it. All I could see was a rusted-out turret... and then I saw it... the ghostly image of the USS Arizona sunk right before me.

He told me that when the planes came in he was asleep in his bunk. The barracks he said, "Lifted on one end... everything slid and bullet holes began appearing in the walls." He also told me that he was scared. My ol' man wasn't skeert of anything that I can ever remember. He was a tough old son of a bitch sergeant. He said that he had dived out of his bunk and got under it for while. I remember that scared me. It still scares me.

The ship ghosted in and out of view in the little chop of the water. I remember the wind was calm and soothing, but then he told me that the sailors were all still on board the USS Arizona. They were trapped and died in that ship... the ones that weren't killed or wounded in the bombing, explosions, and gun fire. "They are all still in that ship."

I imagined them pounding on the hull until it got quiet.

My brother was now running wildly in some inappropriate direction and Dad put me down to chase him. We got back to the car. For a while I watched the mirages forming over the little two lane road with no curbs that ran seemingly forever to a motion sick kid in the back seat.