Beijing Olympics facilities four years later.
http://sports.yahoo.com/photos/olympics-before-and-after-beijing-s-2008-olympic-venues-four-years-later-slideshow/
Twenty-five photographs.
Tank-blocking wasn’t an event.
Monday, July 9, 2012
AC-47 crew buried
On Christmas Eve 1965, an AC-47 took off from Da Nang with the mission of interdicting NVA traffic on the Ho Chi Minh Trail in Laos. Today, the six crew members were buried together in Arlington National Cemetery.
http://www.military.com/daily-news/2012/07/09/crew-shot-down-over-laos-finally-laid-to-rest.html?comp=7000023317828&rank=1
http://www.military.com/daily-news/2012/07/09/crew-shot-down-over-laos-finally-laid-to-rest.html?comp=7000023317828&rank=1
Sunday, July 8, 2012
War with Islam
In the last few years I have read several books whose authors claim to have discovered the spark of conflict between Christians and Muslims “that continues to this day.”
Those sparks include Vasco de Gama’s voyages to India; Europe’s reaction to Muslim conquest of Constantinople in 1453; Russia’s wars with Ottoman Turkey; British imperialism into Egypt and the Sudan; and, of course, the various Crusades, 1096-1272.
None of those books mentioned the single fact that led to initial fights between Christian and Muslim – the surge in 633 of Muslim forces from Arabia into Christian lands. In 636 the Eastern Roman army met the Muslim army at Yarmuk. Roman defeat allowed the Muslim army, by 640, to overrun present-day Israel, Lebanon, Syria and Jordan. By 700, Muslim forces had conquered North Africa and Persia and were preparing to invade Spain.
http://www.militaryhistoryonline.com/muslimwars/articles/yarmuk.aspx
For more than 750 years after the battle at Yarmuk, Muslim armies conquered Christian and pagan lands. Spain was not free of Muslim forces until 1492.
And yet, Muslim conquests do not figure in modern history, or at least not in the evaluation of how we got where we are today.
It is as though all of North Africa, the Middle East, Turkey, Iran, Afghanistan and the countries on the border of southern Russia have always been Muslim. No TV talking head or politician talks about the Muslim Arab army that burst into Christendom and swept all before it, compelling conversion, giving death to those who refused.
In modern history, it is the Christians who are at fault, and Jews, of course. If we would only let the Muslims do as theoige y wished in their own countries … But that is not the way of Islam. Mohammad made a religion of conquest. Mohammad’s rules demand war against individual unbelievers as well as against nations that refuse Islam. If that is not so, why did Muslims hold the Balkans until forced out in the early 20th century? Why did Muslim armies attack Vienna in 1683?
We non-Muslims are in an almost 1,500-year war. Muslims will not let up. Why should we?
Those sparks include Vasco de Gama’s voyages to India; Europe’s reaction to Muslim conquest of Constantinople in 1453; Russia’s wars with Ottoman Turkey; British imperialism into Egypt and the Sudan; and, of course, the various Crusades, 1096-1272.
None of those books mentioned the single fact that led to initial fights between Christian and Muslim – the surge in 633 of Muslim forces from Arabia into Christian lands. In 636 the Eastern Roman army met the Muslim army at Yarmuk. Roman defeat allowed the Muslim army, by 640, to overrun present-day Israel, Lebanon, Syria and Jordan. By 700, Muslim forces had conquered North Africa and Persia and were preparing to invade Spain.
http://www.militaryhistoryonline.com/muslimwars/articles/yarmuk.aspx
For more than 750 years after the battle at Yarmuk, Muslim armies conquered Christian and pagan lands. Spain was not free of Muslim forces until 1492.
And yet, Muslim conquests do not figure in modern history, or at least not in the evaluation of how we got where we are today.
It is as though all of North Africa, the Middle East, Turkey, Iran, Afghanistan and the countries on the border of southern Russia have always been Muslim. No TV talking head or politician talks about the Muslim Arab army that burst into Christendom and swept all before it, compelling conversion, giving death to those who refused.
In modern history, it is the Christians who are at fault, and Jews, of course. If we would only let the Muslims do as theoige y wished in their own countries … But that is not the way of Islam. Mohammad made a religion of conquest. Mohammad’s rules demand war against individual unbelievers as well as against nations that refuse Islam. If that is not so, why did Muslims hold the Balkans until forced out in the early 20th century? Why did Muslim armies attack Vienna in 1683?
We non-Muslims are in an almost 1,500-year war. Muslims will not let up. Why should we?
Dude, what’s the problem?
Apache pilot sings “Bye, bye, Miss American Pie” as Hellfire takes out a couple of Taliban in Afghanistan. Here’s a link to “discussion” on the singing:
http://www.godlikeproductions.com/forum1/message1918316/pg5
The site has a bunch of morons arguing nonsense -- trained killers, wa-wa-wa-wa, and etc.
Back in The Day, the thing to say was, “Eat s**t and die, Commie bas**rd!”
We aren’t engaged with Commie bas**rds right now. “Eat s**t and die, Taliban bas**rd!” would work, but maybe the Apache pilot hadn’t heard that term.
Whichever, some sites are saying “outrage” and such. If you put a Hellfire on an enemy, maybe you should pray for his soul? Nah. The atheists would have a fit.
http://www.godlikeproductions.com/forum1/message1918316/pg5
The site has a bunch of morons arguing nonsense -- trained killers, wa-wa-wa-wa, and etc.
Back in The Day, the thing to say was, “Eat s**t and die, Commie bas**rd!”
We aren’t engaged with Commie bas**rds right now. “Eat s**t and die, Taliban bas**rd!” would work, but maybe the Apache pilot hadn’t heard that term.
Whichever, some sites are saying “outrage” and such. If you put a Hellfire on an enemy, maybe you should pray for his soul? Nah. The atheists would have a fit.
Rich women
China (a) doesn’t have enough women; (b) has single, rich women; and, (c) single men who don’t want to marry a woman successful in business.
That’s what happens when a country (a) has parents who focus all on boy kids; (b) has a national abort every child after the first plan; or, (c) abort the girl kids.
There are single millionaire women in China, and the women cannot find the right men to marry.
Hey, Commies! Payback is a bitch.
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/asia/china/9380732/Men-wanted-for-36-Chinese-millionaire-single-ladies.html
Linked from www.theospark.net
That’s what happens when a country (a) has parents who focus all on boy kids; (b) has a national abort every child after the first plan; or, (c) abort the girl kids.
There are single millionaire women in China, and the women cannot find the right men to marry.
Hey, Commies! Payback is a bitch.
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/asia/china/9380732/Men-wanted-for-36-Chinese-millionaire-single-ladies.html
Linked from www.theospark.net
Saturday, July 7, 2012
A History of Luna County
This is part of a chapter I wrote several years ago for A History of Luna County, the history far from complete, more an ongoing idea. Priscilla said I should put together all my research on Red River County. Luna County is the result of that suggestion -- historical research, plus people I met.
Nathan Bullock
Nathan would have been beyond surprise had he known April drove down that street hoping to see him there.
As much as Nathan thought about April, he never considered whether she thought about him. In the war, a few months after reading of Tom’s death, Nathan did wonder, but those thoughts came when he thought about April, when the tears threatened, because to think of April was to think of goodness, and there was none of that in the war. Those times, Nathan sat alone, sometimes on ambush in the jungle -- his reclusive nature made others avoid him -- or at a fire base when the company was in from the bush a few days and everyone had at least one night of drunkenness. Sometimes there would be more than a few days, occasionally a week or ten days. Most soldiers became uneasy when in from the bush longer than a week. Officers and sergeants too often decided soldiers needed reminding they were part of the army, and that the army survived by regulations and standard ways of doing things. What the officers and sergeants could not understand was that, yes, they were part of an army, but most of their soldiers were not. The soldiers were part of a great, efficient killing machine. Some soldiers considered themselves only a cog on a small gear in the machine; others knew their true place as an essential part of the machine, that without them, the machine could not function. Those men were very good at their job. Nathan knew his place.
When Nathan sat alone in the war, he read, oftentimes books of history, although he yearned for books of poetry. When such works were available at the fire base library, Nathan borrowed the books, read and reread the poems, then studied favorite poems assiduously. In August 1968, Nathan discovered Siegfried Sassoon and Wilfred Owen. It was a momentous discovery. He had not known such writers existed. In his senior year of high school, Nathan read The Waste Land. That poem opened his mind to style; Sassoon and Owen led him to content. Nathan tried his own hand, writing several short poems, reading and revising. He discovered in those early attempts too many dead bodies. In late August, the company went back to the bush. In that three-week period, Nathan discovered the death of a single person as meaningful as the deaths of thousands. The first night of the company’s return to the fire base in the bush, Nathan took a pad and a pencil and wrote:
“The old woman shuffled to the village gate,
“And Wizard made her dead.”
Nathan wrote many lines that night and in nights that followed. He declined to term the lines poetry, instead considering what he wrote as running prose with natural breaks. Poetry was a delicate thing and should consist of endearing terms. What Nathan wrote that night was a hammer, pounding a piece of metal, red hot and recently removed from smoldering coals.
There were delicate writings, but those always were of April. Those lines Nathan wrote when on ambush or in night defensive position, taking quietly a small notebook from a pocket, sometimes writing in total darkness, translating the scribbles when the sun rose. At times, though, Nathan wrote of April, and his love for her, on fullmoon nights and he could see the words. In one such writing, he told of the difference between Texas and Vietnam in the rising of the moon, how the moon appeared full grown above the trees, with no glow on the horizon to announce its imminent arrival. On those nights, Nathan achingly remembered the moon at home, of the paling on the horizon, of the sky satin and the moon easing through thin clouds edged with gray lace. At times, he closed his eyes and saw April standing before such a moon, her profile in sharp detail. On those nights, Nathan compelled the tears to remain where they belonged.
Nathan kept all the writings in an ammunition can in his tent at the fire support base. Some notebooks were damaged from heavy rains and Nathan’s sweat. Writings in those books he transcribed in ink on lined pads. Notebooks bought at the small PX were almost useless in the humid jungle. Nathan began taking small items from the VC and NVA he killed, exchanging with the company supply sergeant North Vietnamese currency, belts and knapsacks for army notebooks. Those notebooks had thick covers and pages relatively water resistant.
When Nathan left the war, he wrapped notebooks and pads in plastic and wound large rubber bands around the packages and packed them in the middle of his duffel bag. Inspectors at Long Binh did not ask about the notebooks and pads; they were interested only in finding drugs, weapons and military equipment.
Nathan Bullock
Nathan would have been beyond surprise had he known April drove down that street hoping to see him there.
As much as Nathan thought about April, he never considered whether she thought about him. In the war, a few months after reading of Tom’s death, Nathan did wonder, but those thoughts came when he thought about April, when the tears threatened, because to think of April was to think of goodness, and there was none of that in the war. Those times, Nathan sat alone, sometimes on ambush in the jungle -- his reclusive nature made others avoid him -- or at a fire base when the company was in from the bush a few days and everyone had at least one night of drunkenness. Sometimes there would be more than a few days, occasionally a week or ten days. Most soldiers became uneasy when in from the bush longer than a week. Officers and sergeants too often decided soldiers needed reminding they were part of the army, and that the army survived by regulations and standard ways of doing things. What the officers and sergeants could not understand was that, yes, they were part of an army, but most of their soldiers were not. The soldiers were part of a great, efficient killing machine. Some soldiers considered themselves only a cog on a small gear in the machine; others knew their true place as an essential part of the machine, that without them, the machine could not function. Those men were very good at their job. Nathan knew his place.
When Nathan sat alone in the war, he read, oftentimes books of history, although he yearned for books of poetry. When such works were available at the fire base library, Nathan borrowed the books, read and reread the poems, then studied favorite poems assiduously. In August 1968, Nathan discovered Siegfried Sassoon and Wilfred Owen. It was a momentous discovery. He had not known such writers existed. In his senior year of high school, Nathan read The Waste Land. That poem opened his mind to style; Sassoon and Owen led him to content. Nathan tried his own hand, writing several short poems, reading and revising. He discovered in those early attempts too many dead bodies. In late August, the company went back to the bush. In that three-week period, Nathan discovered the death of a single person as meaningful as the deaths of thousands. The first night of the company’s return to the fire base in the bush, Nathan took a pad and a pencil and wrote:
“The old woman shuffled to the village gate,
“And Wizard made her dead.”
Nathan wrote many lines that night and in nights that followed. He declined to term the lines poetry, instead considering what he wrote as running prose with natural breaks. Poetry was a delicate thing and should consist of endearing terms. What Nathan wrote that night was a hammer, pounding a piece of metal, red hot and recently removed from smoldering coals.
There were delicate writings, but those always were of April. Those lines Nathan wrote when on ambush or in night defensive position, taking quietly a small notebook from a pocket, sometimes writing in total darkness, translating the scribbles when the sun rose. At times, though, Nathan wrote of April, and his love for her, on fullmoon nights and he could see the words. In one such writing, he told of the difference between Texas and Vietnam in the rising of the moon, how the moon appeared full grown above the trees, with no glow on the horizon to announce its imminent arrival. On those nights, Nathan achingly remembered the moon at home, of the paling on the horizon, of the sky satin and the moon easing through thin clouds edged with gray lace. At times, he closed his eyes and saw April standing before such a moon, her profile in sharp detail. On those nights, Nathan compelled the tears to remain where they belonged.
Nathan kept all the writings in an ammunition can in his tent at the fire support base. Some notebooks were damaged from heavy rains and Nathan’s sweat. Writings in those books he transcribed in ink on lined pads. Notebooks bought at the small PX were almost useless in the humid jungle. Nathan began taking small items from the VC and NVA he killed, exchanging with the company supply sergeant North Vietnamese currency, belts and knapsacks for army notebooks. Those notebooks had thick covers and pages relatively water resistant.
When Nathan left the war, he wrapped notebooks and pads in plastic and wound large rubber bands around the packages and packed them in the middle of his duffel bag. Inspectors at Long Binh did not ask about the notebooks and pads; they were interested only in finding drugs, weapons and military equipment.
‘That’s no baloney: Lobster cheaper than deli meat’
If you live in Maine, or near by. And if you buy soft-shell lobster. And if you want less meat.
So buy one small at $2.50, as opposed to one big at a higher price. If you want the same meat as in a big one …
http://www.usnews.com/news/articles/2012/07/06/thats-no-baloney-lobster-cheaper-than-deli-meat
Who cares if people in Maine buy lobster cheaper than we in Flyover Country? It makes a catchy headline – ‘Lobster cheaper than baloney!’
But you know what? In Flyover Country, steak is cheaper than deli meat. Almost any meat is cheaper than deli meat.
‘Steak cheaper than deli turkey!’
Take that, fark.com and usnews.com!
So buy one small at $2.50, as opposed to one big at a higher price. If you want the same meat as in a big one …
http://www.usnews.com/news/articles/2012/07/06/thats-no-baloney-lobster-cheaper-than-deli-meat
Who cares if people in Maine buy lobster cheaper than we in Flyover Country? It makes a catchy headline – ‘Lobster cheaper than baloney!’
But you know what? In Flyover Country, steak is cheaper than deli meat. Almost any meat is cheaper than deli meat.
‘Steak cheaper than deli turkey!’
Take that, fark.com and usnews.com!
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