friday, september 10th, 2010

gold (Au) has a long and complex history. From gold’s first discovery, it has symbolized wealth and guaranteed power. Gold has caused obsession in men and nations, destroyed some cultures and gave power to others.

Archaeological digs suggest the use of Gold began in the Middle East where the first known civilizations began. The oldest pieces of gold jewelry Egyptian jewelry were found in the tomb of Queen Zer and that of Queen Pu-abi of Ur in Sumeria and are the oldest examples found of any kind of jewelry in a find from the third millennium BC. Over the centuries, most of the Egyptian tombs were raided, but the tomb of Tutankhamen was discovered undisturbed by modern archaeologists. Inside the largest collection of gold and jewelry in the world was found and included a gold coffin whose quality showed the advanced state of Egyptian craftsmanship and goldworking (second millennium BC).

The Persian Empire, in what is now Iran, made frequent use of Gold in artwork as part of the religion of Zoroastrianism. Persian goldwork is most famous for its animal art, which was modified after the Arabs conquered the area in the 7th century AD.

When Rome began to flourish, the city attracted talented Gold artisans who created gold jewelry of wide variety. The use of gold in Rome later expanded into household items and furniture in the homes of the higher classes. By the third century AD, the citizens of Rome wore necklaces that contained coins with the image of the emperor. As Christianity spread through the European continent, Europeans ceased burying their dead with their jewelry. As a result, few gold items survive from the Middle Ages, except those of royalty and from church hoards.

In the Americas, the skill of Pre-Columbian cultures in the use of Gold was highly advanced long before the arrival of the Spanish. Indian goldsmiths had mastered most of the techniques known by their European contemporaries when the Spanish arrived. They were adept at filigree, granulation, pressing and hammering, inlay and lost-wax methods. The Spanish conquerors melted down most of the gold that they took from the peoples of this region and most of the remaining examples have come from modern excavations of grave sites. The greatest deposits of gold from these times were in the Andes and in Columbia.

During the frontier days of the United States news of the discovery of gold in a region could result in thousands of new settlers, many risking their lives to find gold. Gold rushes occurred in many of the Western States, the most famous occurring in California at Sutter’s Mill in 1848. Elsewhere, gold rushes happened in Australia in 1851, South Africa in 1884 and in Canada in 1897.

The rise of a gold standard was meant to stabilize the global economy, dictating that a nation must limit its issued currency to the amount of gold it held in reserve. Great Britain was the first to adopt the gold standard in 1821, followed, in the 1870s, by the rest of Europe followed. The system remained in effect until the end of the first world war, after which the US was the only country still honoring the Gold Standard. After the war, other countries were allowed to keep reserves of major currencies instead of gold. The arrival of the great depression marked the end of the U.S. export of gold in the 1930s. By mid 20th century, the US dollar had replaced gold in international trade.

The American Eagle Bullion program was launched in 1986 with the sale of gold and silver bullion coins. Platinum was added to the American Eagle Bullion family in 1997. A bullion coin is a coin that is valued by its weight in a specific precious metal.

© Northwest Territorial Mint

9-11: Have You Forgotten?

By my guesstimate, 85-90% of Americans have forgotten what happened on Tuesday, September 11th, 2001. I sure haven't after all these 9 long years, with still nothing replacing The World Trade Center Towers.

Were people from all over the world, not brutally murdered that day, in downtown Manhattan, across the Potomac from the nation's capitol and in a field in Pennsylvania?

Did nearly three thousand men, women and children die a horrible, burning or crushing death that day, or didn't they?

And I'm supposed to care that a few Taliban were claiming to be tortured by a justice system of the nation they come from and are fighting against in a brutal muslim insurgency.

I'll start caring when Osama bin Laden turns himself in and repents for incinerating all those innocent people on 9/11.

I'll care about the Koran when the fanatics in the Middle East start caring about the Holy Bible, the mere belief of which is a crime punishable by beheading in Afghanistan.

I'll care when these thugs tell the world they are sorry for hacking off Nick Berg's head while Berg screamed through his gurgling slashed throat.

I'll care when the cowardly so-called 'insurgents' in Afghanistan come out and fight like men instead of disrespecting their own religion by hiding in mosques and behind women and children.

I'll care when the mindless zealots who blow themselves up in search of nirvana care about the innocent children within range of their suicide bombs.

I'll care when the US-controlled media stops pretending that their freedom of speech on stories is more important than the lives of the soldiers on the ground or their families waiting at home to hear about them when something happens.

In the meantime, when I hear a story about a U.S. Soldier roughing up an muslim terrorist to obtain information, know this:

I don't care.

When I see a wounded terrorist get shot in the head when he is told not to move because he might be booby-trapped, you can take it to the bank:

I don't care.

When I hear that a prisoner, who was issued a Koran and a prayer mat, and 'fed special food' that is paid for by my tax dollars, is complaining that his holy book is being 'mishandled,' you can absolutely believe in your heart of hearts:

I don't care.

And oh, by the way, I've noticed that sometimes it's spelled 'Koran' and other times 'Quran'. Well, Jimmy Crack Corn you guessed it,

I don't care.

Some people spend an entire lifetime wondering if they made a difference in the world. But, the U.S. Military doesn't have that problem.

Only two defining forces have ever offered to die for you:

1. Jesus Christ.

2. The US Soldier.

One died for your soul, the other one died for your freedoms. (Anonymous email sent to me, but quite appropriate, don't you think?)

Thank you, US Military and US Military Veterans!

Around The Garden Center™

Wednesday, Thursday & Friday truly sucked with high temps 92°F — 96°F, vapid humidity, and 102°F — 106°F Heat Indexes, making life miserable for all flora and fauna, and especially people. On Friday, there was payroll to do, repotting of the Quality GH's rootbound plant material, getting customer's orders together so they could pick-up their purchases and plant them over the 3-day Labor Day Holiday weekend. Hurricane Earl was working its way up the eastern seaboard, making Friday a cloudy, somewhat cooler, but very humid day. Luckily, it veered away from us, but we sure could have used the plentiful rainfall which some eastern seaboard areas got. There's a lot of container plants burnt-to-a-crisp from the heat and drought, regardless of how much water we shower them with. Just damn.

I went home Friday afternoon at 4:30pm, showered, changed into clean clothes, looking forward to Saturday & Sunday's low-70's temps and humidity, and being closed on Monday Labor Day, so I could go to The Cabin. I watched FX's "The Marine" and "Out For Revenge", before crashing at 10pm. I knew both Saturday and Sunday were going to be retail-busy, so I wanted to get some sleep.

Saturday's retail business was brisk, and I made some large tree sale installations. The wind from Hurricane Earl kept blowing-down nursery stock and Lee & I had to keep standing it up, and running the overhead sprinkler, or hand-watering, so it doesn't dry-out. I was glad to get out of there at 4:45pm and go home to an early sleep. I have to be back in at 11am - 4pm tomorrow, for the next 7-8 weeks. Life sucks, right now.

I wasn't real thrilled to get up Sunday and go into work, after having had Sundays in July & August off, plus one weekday. Now, I'm back to only Thursdays off. Sure, it's a short 5-hr day (11am - 4pm), but it's still six days a week for the next two months; not fun at all. The newspaper ads have hit the "North County News", "Country Chronicle", "Baltimore Sun" (4-c, two-sided insert to 22 high-end zip codes, and the "York Daily Record" banner ad at the bottom of the front page. It's bringing people in, and we're moving merchandise, but at 50% off, we're not making much money. Ah but, the idea is to clear-out remaining older inventory and re-stock with fresh goods for Spring. So it's working.

I had to work both Saturday & Sunday — our once-in-a-lifetime 50% Off Everything Fall Sale has started — and they were two of the coolest and less humid days we've had in several months. We did a very brisk retail business. Sunday was also a brisk retail day and beautiful low-70s weather with low humidity. I decided to go to The Cabin right after work, since I'd packed my duffel bag Saturday evening and it was in the Jeep, after doing a couple of loads of laundry. I loaded the Beowulf .50cal and 100 rounds of .360-grain ammo, and the Remy 11-87 Auto-Loader 12ga and 100 round of .00 buckshot and slugs, into their Eagle Carrying Bags, and put them into the back of the Jeep. I also took and extra 6 x 8-round .45cal ACP mags and 250 160-grain load ammo. I closed at 3:45pm and headed north.

Here are some amazing electron microscope pictures of insects and spiders. Yikes!

Getting back to work on Tuesday after 1½ days off, truly sucked. Dad had a Jeep service appointment at S&D Motors (owned by relatives of our family) on my usual day off, so I switched to Wednesday off. Now I'll be working 7 days straight until the following Thursday. Shit. Lee took Tuesday off to plant all the material he'd bought during the 50% Off Everything Fall Sale, but Kim was here and I had her watering all day since we were closed on Labor Day and the 5 (of 7) GHs, outside benches, roses and lath house plants didn't get watered. The Main Retail Area is on timed zone overhead sprinklers as are the tree-growing fields and potted Jap Maples, on almost 4 miles of drip irrigation.

I left for The Cabin at 5pm on Tuesday afternoon, after closing.

The “Virtual Cabin” – A Novella™

After all that had happened with the gold vein in my creek, last week, I called my York Attorney, sat down with him at a 1½hr meeting, and laid it all out, for him to analyze and consider. He was stunned.

Marc Robinson, ESQ, my Corporate & Personal Attorney, recommended that I call-in a reputable gold mining company, devastate the remaining 3-4" vein, clean-out the creek, and remove all gold ore and nuggets from the property. A quality gold vein in Pennsylvania is very rare, and when mined, apt to be short-lived. As far as a "redistribution to hard-hit families" in Adam's Junction, that would be my decision, Marc said, but there would be taxes levied on all coming out of the ground. Do I evenly distribute to all? Or just to the poorer families, and possible alienate the better-off families? Lots to ponder with that choice. Or keep it myself after paying the mining company's expenses, and invest it? There'd also be taxes to pay, and all kinds of scammers after me with wild schemes and "can't-lose investment ideas". I didn't need that. I just wanted to be left alone and not have to deal with a bunch of assholes, which Marc assured me would happen. Or sell the property and vacate, pronto, before I get killed, or do some more killing.

From work on Thursday, I called the 3 mineral mining companies Clay Atler had given me, and one of the three agreed to meet me on the property next Thursday, to assess the situation, and give me some estimates on the work I wanted done. I have yet to hear back from the other two companies. With having to work both Saturday and Sunday at the GC&N Center, and having Labor Day Monday off, I decided to go to The Cabin just to rest and get away from it all.

I arrived at The Cabin around 5pm, since the Labor Day Holiday Weekend traffic was a bit heavy. I pulled into the 1,000ft drive, and drove across the field to the creek, up a little hill overlooking the vein of gold. I wanted to be sure there were no people trespassing or panning for gold in my stream. Then I backtracked to The Cabin, disarmed it, and brought in my gear and guns. Jenny was happy to see me. I refilled her wet, dry and water bowls, cleaned her "litter boxes" and unpacked for the night and Monday. I took a shower, put some clean clothes on, and some clean linens on the Master BR's queen-sized bed. I checked the pantry and larder, and they were lacking nothing.

I decided to drive into Adam's Junction to get two prime rib center-cut dinners, to take-out and bring back here. And I'd share some of it with Jenny. I took my Kimber 1911 "Eclipse Target II" .45cal ACP along, as usual, with two extra mags in a Galco paddle ammo carrier, a perfect match to the Galco Fed Paddle Holster, in which I carry my 1911 Kimber. It suddenly occurred to me that I need a police scanner, since I have no electronics in The Cabin, except my cellphone. Being computer-less up here is both good and bad, in that I want to "get way from it all", but still "stay in touch", in case a blizzard or some bad storm is headed this way. I called my office's answering machine and left a "memo" to myself to get a scanner on Tuesday or Wednesday, so I could bring it along on Wednesday evening for Thursday, my day off, when I next come up for the night and day. There is a phone line coming into The Cabin, but I've never signed-up for service; I prefer the cellphone.

I drove to Adam's Junction, and south on Main Street to Nell's Kitchen, and saw the parking lot almost deserted, so I went in. Instead of a packed house and lines waiting to be seated, there were maybe 10 people in the restaurant, so I was seated right away, and ordered two *rare* full, center-cut prime rib dinners, one with a baked potato, rolls, carrots, peas, and the second with mashed potatoes & gravy and brussel sprouts and corn. Both, "to go". I asked the waitress, Helen, why it was so empty, and she said that Labor Day Weekend was traditionally a BBQ day for families and friends at home, as were several holidays: July 4th, Christmas and Thanksgiving. I paid the bill and tipped 15%, as I regularly do for take-outs. My order was ready in 20-25 minutes and I had to make three trips to the Jeep to load all the styrofoam containers into the cavernous back of it. I decided to ride by Uncle Ray's Rib Joint, just down the street, and by Sarah's Place, on the north side of town, to see what their parking lots looked like. Same thing: almost empty.

I drove to the Police Station, and only Corporal Clay Atler was on duty. We shook hands and he asked if DA Stan Robbins had been in touch with me or my attorney yet, about the two shootings last week. I said he had and we'd filled-out the interrogatories and were ready for deposition and hearing. He said he thought Stan was going to waive all that and save the taxpayers some serious money, since all I'd killed were scumbags, thieves and lowlifes. But it seems that the families of Holtzapples and Groves were clamoring for a formal Grand Jury Hearing, to try to get me indicted for murder, instead of self-defense. I said the paperwork would be mailed on Tuesday, and if ordered, I'd appear at any and all Grand Jury Hearings, to tell the truth. I wished him a peaceful Labor Day Holiday, after telling him I was back to seven days a week, with maybe Thursdays off.

The dinners were getting cold, but I had a microwave to re-heat them, and feast, sharing some rare prime rib with Jenny. It'd be her first taste of real food, since she's a "virtual dog", and I hoped it would be okay with her. She loved it, and so did I. I saved the second dinner for Monday and put it in the 'fridge. I called Mom & Dad, to chat and let them know where I was for the next 1½ days, and that everything was okay.

I went out on the massive front deck and sat at the large picnic table, to contemplate and sketch-out where to place the 20-30 "Princeton" American Elms, when I truck them up in late October to install, with a locally-hired contractor and his backhoe. I thought it might be a good idea to bring along a friend of 15+ years and one of my nursery stock brokers, Tim Swanson, to enjoy this "virtual world" of The Cabin and Adam's Junction. He'd asked in an email a week ago, that he'd like "to tag along", so maybe this would be an opportunity to introduce him to this wonderful area, sans the Holtzapples and Groves. I need to get 20-30 sites painted with orange spray paint, for the backhoe contractor to pre-dig the holes. He'd have the 2nd BR double brass antique 1892 bed. Being a Marylander, I don't think he owns any weapons, but I have plenty to share for protection, and can teach him in short order how to protect himself.

I carried in some weathered split wood for a medium fire, since temps would be dropping into the 40s tonite, here in the mountains. I turned on the heater and set it to 68°F, since I like it cool when I sleep with wool or down blankets. I hate sweating at night. I lit the fire in the massive stone hearth and settled back in my over-stuffed leather chair to re-read "Unintended Consequences", for the third time, given as a gift to me by my good Conservative Friend, "flytosail", several years ago. I poured some 50-yr old Cognac, lit a Marlboro, and began reading until my eyes closed and I nodded-off, around 10pm. Then it was time for serious sleep. I closed down the flu damper halfway, since the fire was out, kept the heater at 68°F, and went to bed. I was tired from working both Saturday & Sunday. Jenny joined me at the foot of the bed.

I slept-in until 11:30am on Labor Day, decided to make Eggs Benedict, sausage, OJ & coffee, and have breakfast on the massive front deck's large picnic table. It was already 71°F and with all the trees logged-out, it would get warmer more quickly than usual now. I decided to call Karl Jayson, the local excavator whom I'd chosen to dig the holes for the new 20-30 "Princeton" American Elms I was going to install. I'd bring the trees up on my Pequa trailer, with 6' x 2" x 2" oak stakes, a roll of Cobra Rope and the "bonger" to drive-in the stakes. I called his office, but it was closed for the holiday, so I left a message. I tried his cellphone and got him, and he said that he could do it in 1 week or sooner, since business was slow, if I'd mark the holes with orange spray paint today, which I had in the back of the Jeep. I told him that I'd have them marked today, and that he could show-up anytime and dig the holes for the 30gal container trees. I'd take it from there within 2 weeks. I'd call Karl to confirm that at least 15 of the holes were dug closest to the front deck, for the first batch of trees we'd be bringing up. I have a strong well — 8-10 GPM — and would go to the ACE hardware store and get 500ft of hose to water them in thoroughly. We still had September and October to get through before frost in November, but I wanted to get a headstart on the planting, so the Elms would "root-in" and establish before Winter sets-in.

I did a rough sketch of The Cabin's front and 10-acre meadow, dotting/ erasing and re-dotting the new trees' locations. The I got the orange spray paint and put "Xs" at the 30 new tree locations. Karl would be using a 12" bucket, so 4-5 scoops of earth, piled net to the hole, would be plenty of room for the 30gal trees. I decided to just bring 15 up at a time. That would consume an entire day for me, and possibly Tim, if he had room in his schedule. I called him, and he said he could be free next Thursday, my day off. Never having been to a "virtual world" before, I told him what to bring to wear, and what to expect from the locals. He seemed a little tenuous, but agreed to the task ahead.

I made sure that the massive front deck would have 3 Elms positioned for covering it for shade, within a few years. Since they grow 4-6ft/ year, it wouldn't be too long before I'd regain some shade for the deck. Okay, that project is underway.

With Karl Jayson digging the holes, Tim and I could easily install 15 of the Elms in less than a day; we'd start with the ones closest to the front deck, and then bring-up the second 15 trees in another week. No need to rent a John Deere SkidSteer from Midland's Garden Center, after all. We'd be driving my 2004 Super-Duty with the Pequa Trailer carrying everything we needed and could back right up to the pre-dug holes, unpot the trees, drop them at proper depth, backfill with shovels, water-in, stake and mulch them. I'd have three of my landscape crew members load-up the truck and trailer the night before, tarping the trees and Tim could meet me at the GC&N Complex at 7am.

I changed into my LLBean 14" waterproof boots, and hiked with Jenny, on a leash, down to the creek, where the gold ore vein was. I could see golfball-sized nuggets dotting the beginning of the stream, tied her up, and waded-in to gather them. I had my Kimber .45cal ACP sidearm and the Remy 11-87 12ga Auto-Loader along, just in case of trouble. I gathered another heavy satchel of nuggets and stashed it in the underbrush, to come back and get with the Jeep. I waded-in to where the vein was portuding, and using my 14" Special Forces knife, picked loose some even larger gold nuggets and chunks of gold ore. I put them in another satchel and also stashed it in the underbrush. I untied Jenny and we walked back to The Cabin. I checked her for ticks, put her inside, got in the Jeep and went back to retrieve the two satchels. After heaving them into the back of the Jeep, I drove back to The Cabin and spread them out on the picnic table. Outstanding. I just wondered how far back and deep this vein went.

I saw Corporal Clay Atler's patrol car coming down my driveway, and decided there was no threat, but my Remy 11-87 Auto-Loader 12ga was laying on the picnic table, with all the nuggets. He got out and walked over to the picnic table, mouth agape, and proudly showed me his new Sargents stripes; he'd been promoted two days ago. I saluted him and he blushed. He asked if I'd had a chance to get the other nuggets assayed. I said that I'd dropped them off in York (PA) at a reputable assayer and was waiting for a final report. His guess was that they were pure 24-ct gold, worth over $1,350/ oz by now. The ore might be 90% pure and after smelting, would climb in value as well.

I asked Clay if he'd like a cold Rolling Rock beer, and he said he couldn't while on-duty, but would take a glass of cold ice water, which I fetched for him. He said he was concerned for me after all that's happened — 3 shootings in 4-5 weeks — and that I needed to beef-up security, since the Holtzapples and Groves wouldn't let this stand without retribution. I thanked him for his concern, but said that I could handle myself and them, if necessary. He said that Sheriff Bunce had put me on a "special watch patrol list", and that squad cars would be regularly visiting to check on me. I was grateful for that. He left on his rounds.

I put all the nuggets and ore back into the two satchels, and loaded them into the Jeep, with a blanket covering them, and went back inside The Cabin and armed it. I was tired, and laid down on my bed to get a few hours of sleep, before returning to York (PA) for Tuesday.

I was back Tuesday afternoon, since we'd switched days-off around, I unpacked and fed Jenny, showered, shaved, changed into clean clothes and went to sleep at 9:30pm and slept until the following day's 1:30pm. I had Wednesday off and would make final arrangements for the installation of the "Princeton" American Elms, with Tim. I called Karl the excavator, to confirm his work; he agreed. I called Tim to confirm his help next Thursday on my day off, to do the job. He agreed. Bingo! Everything is in play. I left a Work Order for my LSCP Crew to load the truck, per my list and instructions, on next Wednesday afternoon, with precisely what I needed. Alan said he's take care of it, for me. After 16 years as Landscape Foreman, I knew I could trust him.

It was another warm day - 82°F - up here in the mountains, without those heretofore 30 massive old trees providing shade. I was running low on Marlboros and gas for the Jeep, so I decided to visit Bev & Tony's General Store for the smokes and Roy's Shell Garage & Service Station for the petrol. Gas is sure expensive up here: Unleaded Regular (87oct) now at $2.89, Unleaded Premium (89oct) now at $2.99/gal, and Unleaded Super Premium (92oct) at $3.19/gal, with Diesel also rising to $3.19/gal. I gassed-up first, and Roy and I chatted for almost an hour about what I'd been doing and what had happened over the past 5-6 weeks. He told me that two of the Holtzapples, wearing ski masks, pistol-whipped him and his son Randy, my snowplower, tied them up, robbed them and threatened them 6 years ago. He said he'd be most happy to see all of them dead, if I could manage it. Next, I went to the General Store, where I heard the same story about the Holtzapples, Groves and Andersons doing occasional robberies. I bought a carton of Marlboro, red hard pack, and a few other things for The Cabin, like two oil lamps, although I had plenty of candles. The burn kerosene, so I got a 5gal red can and a box of extra wicks. I added-in more wet and dry dogfood for Jenny and a small toolbox and filled it with screwdrivers, pliers, wrenches etc just to have on-hand for repairs. I noticed that their supplies of ammo in the sporting goods dep't was badly depleted. Tony said they hadn't had a delivery in weeks, and that everyone was hoarding brass and lead, as I've been doing, fearing the worst to come. I told him that I had 91,000+ round for 8 calibers, and he was stunned. That's more than he sold in 2-3 seasons, even with all the hunters up here! "Semper Paratus" has always been my motto, since The Boy Scouts' "Be Prepared", in 1958, when I joined.

I loaded my purchases into the Jeep, and noticed a Chevy Jimmy pull-up behind me, blocking my way. It was two of the Anderson, Ben and Jeff, one of whom leaned out the passenger window and said, "You're dead, MF-er!", and drove off. I got their plate number and Tony was helping me load, but begged not to get him or Bev involved. I told them I'd handle this neo-nazi crap, myself. I called Sgt Clay Atler and gave him the details, and he said it looked like the whole neo-nazi clan was coming for me, since I'd killed 4 of their "people", in self-defense. At last count, there were around 30 in that crowd. I had a long ways to go.

On the drive back to The Cabin, I figured that the best way was to go on offense: go after each of them and kill them in a situation where they were totally-unprepared for it, instead of letting them come to my property and set-up a "sniper's hide" or ambush me while I was working outside or just inside The Cabin. But that would be murder, according to DA Stan Robbins, Sheriff Bunce and Sgt Atler, and I'd be hunted, prosecuted, tried, convicted and sentenced for it. Don't need that. I guess I'll just have to take 'em out 1-2 at a time, being extra careful. I called Tim and notified him of this developing situation, since he was married and had a family, I would give him an opportunity to back-out gracefully. He said "he's still in". Good man; we'll see for how long. I can teach him what he needs to know in a few weeks, from my 5th Special Forces Training at Ft Bragg, Jungle School & VietNam, back in the early 70s.

I got back to The Cabin side door, unloaded, fed and watered Jenny, and sat down at the massive oak dining room table, to make-up some lists. I would hire a couple of local hunters to patrol the immediate and intermediate area where Tim and I would be installing the Elms. Tim and I would be armed, with hi-power rifles, nearby. This was NOT the reason I bought the bucolic 64-acre property with The Cabin; it was to get away from all the BS in York at my business and relax, and not have to go back to killing people who didn't like me, dammit!

I was both angered and exhausted from all this neo-nazi crap; they've ruined my "getaway times" up here, so far, after the gold was discovered, and I deeply resented it. I had a mind to go on a one-man S&D (Search & Destroy) Mission and kill them all, but I remembered the stern words of the authorities about not doing it; it would be murder over here in Pennsylvania. In the 'Nam, it would be sanctioned and awarded with medals and ribbons. Over here, it's plain murder. What a fucked-up state of affairs.

Ding, ding, ding! One thing I could do was find their meeting house, wire it and blow it up while they all were in there, making it look like the LPG tanks and furnace caused the "accident", thereby ridding Adam's Junction of all of them at once. I'd work on that plan. Not only was I a Long Range Sniper in 'Nam, I was an Explosive Expert. C4 leaves very little traces, and if placed properly inside their compound, could make it seem that they "accidentally" blew-up themselves. Nice plan.

I armed the building and driveway alarms, and settled back into my comfy, overstuffed leather chair to continue reading "Unintended Consequences", from my good Conservative Friend, flytosail. I turned the AC on at 76°F and read for 2-3 hrs, with Jenny curled-up on the Kodiak Bearskin, at my feet. Most relaxing, as compared to the afternoon's activities.

I opened the carton with the police scanner in it, set it up and tuned it into Sheriff Bunce's Station and the State Police, as well as medical response teams. Besides the cellphone, it was the 2nd piece of communications hardware I had in-house. I vowed to have *none* in the beginning, but with all that was quickly happening, some was necessary.

Things Which Make Your Head Explode™

"We're moving in the right direction", said Hussein Øbummer. Sure thing idiot sambo: unemployment jumps to 9.6% and the economy LOST 283,000 jobs during 'Recovery Summer' months. Dumb asshole, shit-for-brains, moron.

Forget the 9.6%+ unemployment rate and another 56,000 jobs lost in August, what's more troubling is the employment rate in America: it's only 58.2%. Troubling indeed!

Øbummer touts 55,000 auto jobs created at taxpayer cost of only $84.8 BILLION!

$700 billion stimulus; nope, more like $12.8 trillion, and it still isn't working. Nice going, Hussein Øbummer.

A Northwestern University professor, shit-for-brains Professor Kristian Hammond, is under fire from critics for having accepted a $700,000.00 "research grant" awarded by the federal government to create joke-telling computer software.

Some People Just Need Killing™

This will do it!.

It's not my intention to be the judge here — that's God's "job" — but rather to "hasten the meeting" so that He can send the following subhuman filth to the "Fires of Hell", "River or Lake of Sulphur", or whatever He deems appropriate. I'd gladly/happily volunteer, at no cost to any of my Hard-Working, Fellow US Taxpayers, to gladly/gleefully/happily headshoot these murderous, lowlife dirtbags of all stripes — their skin-color doesn't matter to me, at all — and rid American Society's innocents (especially our precious children and the frail, defenseless elderly) of them, once-and-for-all. And yes, I'd rather see one innocent man convicted and executed, than 10 murderers/robbers/child rapists-murderers freed, to rob, rape and murder again. Hey; call me an "Old Fashioned Conservative"! Too harsh? Nah. Just RIGHT!

Yes, I agree with the premise of this article, that "the death penalty is a Noahic Covenant with God, in a post-flood world". Well said, Joe Farrah.

Carlotta Brett-Pierce needs killing for doing murdering her 4 year old daughter, who weighed a malnourished 18 lbs. There's a special place in hell for her.

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