It’s About Time; It’s About Space

The mayor of Baltimore has been criticized for suggesting that the rioters be given “space to destroy”.  The idea is that human life is more valuable than property, and that looting and burning should not be crimes punishable by death. 

To me this illustrates one of the fundamental economic errors of the left whether socialist, fascist or crony capitalist.  Property, private property is an essential.  Humans need food, tools, shelter, clothing, and energy in order to survive.  I own a house and a few acres of land, vehicles, equipment and tools.  I traded something for all those things.  It is the one thing of value with which I was born.  It is my time.  I have an expectation of roughly 70 or 80 years on earth.  I’ve been working for wages for forty years, but I’ve been working since I was a little kid, big enough to carry a bucket of feed down on the farm.  I earn money based in part on my education, an education I acquired by trading my time.     

It’s true that sometimes we inherit money or property, but there is still no such thing as a free lunch.  That property was acquired – generally, by someone who sacrificed his or her time in order to have something to pass on to their descendants.  Non-productive citizens, e.g., welfare queens and politicians, live on someone else’s time.  The state takes a portion of what I acquire by the sacrifice of my time, i.e., my life, and uses it for various purposes as it sees fit.  Some of those purposes are necessary and broadly beneficial.  Some are wasteful and directly detrimental. 

One of the things the state is supposed to do – I would say, is obligated to do as part of the social contract, is protect me and my property by enforcing laws against violence, theft, and destruction.  It appears to me, more and more, that the state is failing rather miserably to meet its contractual obligations.  If I cannot have a reasonable expectation of security for my property then we have a problem. 

“Reasonable expectation” is key.  It would be unreasonable for me to expect the police to prevent every potential crime.  However, when crowds are turned loose to steal and to commit arson, that, too, is unreasonable.

It is certainly true that a human life is to be given priority over property.  If a house catches on fire, the first thing, before worrying about possessions, is to get all the people out.  Even the lives of my pets are of greater worth to me than a lot of my possessions.   

But if someone decides to set my house or my business on fire, even if I'm not there, they are destroying a part of my life that I cannot get back.  Someone might say that is silly because your property is insured, and you will receive compensation and be able to restore what has been lost.  That may help, but it is hardly a solution.  Everyone who is a client of that insurance company loses because of my property being destroyed.  Pieces of their lives disappear and cannot be regained.  I also lose time in rebuilding and restoring.  If it is a business, I have also lost potential revenue, which, again, is a loss of my time to try and regain.  I may have to work longer and retire later to make up the difference, giving me fewer years to enjoy in leisure with my family.   

Money lost and property lost -- whether is it my directly owned property or my money or it tax money or insurance -- it's all time lost.  Time lost is life lost.  That is taken from the time I or someone has here on earth to do what we want to do.   

It's easy to say we should all share and that there is plenty for everyone so long as we keep the debate on dollars and cents and resources.  When we start talking about it in terms of the time it takes to build, to rebuild, to clean up, to earn, it's different.  

Yamaha FJ-09 Review

I'll have a different post later today probably, but I have to do some work. 

Meanwhile, for any who might be interested, I offer this link to a positive review of the 2015 FJ-09 at Ultimate Motorcycling.

Day-tripping, the Weekend Ride

This weekend included a grandson’s birthday.  A hundred and fifty miles north of here, Saturday’s weather was predicted to be stormy or at least rainy and unsettled.  We like settled weather, so I worked in the yard and garden Saturday, running the trimmer and the tiller for five hours or so in addition to some mowing. 

Sunday was supposed to be “cooler” but dry.  My plan was to ride my bike up to visit the grandkids and deliver birthday gifts.  By nine o’clock, the fog had not burned off, it was only about 50 degrees, and misty in spots.  Like the idiot that I am, I trusted the weather forecast and left off my fleece vest and heavy gloves because it would soon be much warmer.  The other thing I woke up to was pain in my shoulders because I’m old, because I was running the tiller the day before, and because, the night before that, I had been doing upright rows. 

Consequently, the first fifty miles, I was riding in mist, mostly a problem for visibility as the road surface was dry.  My hands, especially my right one – throttle hand, kept going numb from a combination of cold and the battering from the tiller.  My normal route includes a stretch of I-44 where wisdom suggests it is a good idea to keep up with the truck traffic averaging a little above the 70 mph speed limit.  My rain jacket does give good protection from the wind, but all I had under it was a long-sleeved t-shirt.  I really needed another layer.  By the time I pulled off the Interstate, I was starting to wonder about hypothermia.  I knew was getting stupider. 

I stopped for coffee and a sandwich to warm up and kill the shaking, hoping that the clouds would start to lift, and it did start to get better after that.  By the time I hit eastbound Highway 54 out of Camdenton, there were holes in the cloud cover.  My only problem after that was the absolute refusal of my right hand to admit that it was attached to the rest of me. 

It was worth it all when I got to my son’s house.  This was the first the kids had seen of my new bike “in person”, and everybody seemed to like it.  The sun was fully out by then so we played ball in the yard for an hour or two before I headed off to my daughter’s house for a brief visit.  

The best part of the ride – aside from seeing all four grandkids – was the run on Y Highway over to Highway 63.  It’s nothing but curves and hills for about 8 miles or so, going down to Cedar Creek and back up on the other side.  One curve in particular is in the middle of a fairly steep grade going downhill (westbound).  It is off-camber and marked with a sign that suggests 25-mph.  That one was no problem, but a couple of miles further on, I went into another corner a little too hot.  OK, it was a lot too hot.  I guess I got to thinking I was bad.  I was glad there was no traffic in the other lane.  I used up all of nerve as well as all of my part of the asphalt.  A few more miles on the FJ, and I will be more confident.  No sense in rushing things. 

I spent a little time with the youngest grandson and the oldest granddaughter then mounted up again with the intent of making it to the house before the temperatures started falling after sundown.  I left about 16:30 and stopped a couple of times to get feeling back into my uncooperative hand.  I had cruise control on the Victory which I almost never used – except for situations like this where I had numbness.  My gloves with gel pads, which -- a recurring theme here --  I left at the house, would have helped, too. 

Anyway, I made it home, and it was fun.  The source of all my complaints can be traced to me and my failure to listen to my better sense.  I knew I needed different gloves.  I knew I needed my fleece vest.  The bike itself did really well, and I enjoyed it. 

I need a name.  She needs to be christened.  There was nothing else to call the Enterprise except the Enterprise.  Yesterday, everybody commented on the carbon fiber looks on the FJ, since I opted for the more stealth gray over red.  I would have named a red one "Flash".  "Serenity" is what I call my old yellow TY.  Since the TY and the FJ are related, I suppose I could go with "Firefly".  I'll be pondering.

Want Some Hope For The Future?

Click here and watch the video. 


There's a town called Republic in Missouri, outside of Springfield.  I'm sure it has its problems and issues, but there are some good kids that go to Republic High School.  They elected a prom queen.  Her name is Dayna Painter.  When she was born with Down's Syndrome:  

... [D]octors said she wouldn't live more than a few days. If she beat those odds doctors said she would never walk or talk.

She dances. 

No, she's never going to be a rocket scientist or neurosurgeon, but it looks like she taught a lot of her friends some valuable lessons about life.

The Rules of the Game

I have read a little on this GamerGate thing and the science fiction Hugo Awards controversy regarding nominations.  Particularly in the case of the Hugos, leftist "social justice warriors" -- commonly referred to as SJWs -- have controlled the nomination process for years.  I don't really know or care much about that.  I do know that science fiction as a genre has been in decline and unappealing to me for a long time.  When I read science fiction or fantasy these days, it is probably going to be some classic Heinlein, Niven, Pournelle, Lewis, Charles Williams, T.H. White, etc. 

As I think I've mentioned, I tried a couple of Sarah A. Hoyt's books and was less than overwhelmed.  I am struggling to finish a John C. Wright novel and a Tom Kratman novel -- and these are the good guys.  I get bogged down, and I just don't care what happens. 

On the other hand, to use a non-scifi example, when I read Raymond Chandler, I do care about Marlowe and the people he encounters.  It could just be my age.  I have trouble connecting to the concerns and attitudes of the characters in a lot of these works. 

Anyway, literature is not my primary subject today.  These are cases, though, where the so-called elites are being beaten at their own game with their own flexible rule book. 

About three weeks ago, Kurt Schlichter wrote a commentary for Townhall in which he says that "Liberals May Regret Their New Rules".  He talks about being in Kosovo and the ethnic conflicts there then draws a parallel to the current situation in the U.S.  If you haven't read it, follow the link.  It's worth your time to read.  Here's a key quote:

You cannot expect to change the status quo for yourself and then expect those you victimize not to play by the new rules you have created. You cannot expect to be able to discard the rule of law in favor of the rule of force and have those you target not respond in kind.

 Let's say you and I are playing a friendly game of chess.  Now we both know that the knight has a certain 'L' pattern in which he can move.  He has to do that.  He can only do that.  You build your strategy based on your knowledge of the way the pieces are allowed to move.  We admit that, physically, there's no reason one player can't just grab one of his knights from any place on the board and grab his opponent's queen, wherever it is, and claim that he has taken it.  But if one player starts doing that and claiming he has won by ignoring the rules, that pretty much ends the game.  It certainly eliminates the friendly aspect.  It would tend to make one wonder what kind of an idiot he is playing against. 

That is the way -- and we can't limit this to the leftists -- that's the way the "big government" elite has been playing the political game in this country for decades.  The government, more and more, can do whatever it wants.  After all, it writes the rules.  Except there is a law by which the government is supposed to abide.  It's called the Constitution.  We've talked about that before, too, with regard to law enforcement and bureaucrats who are, essentially, "above" the law. 

As with our hypothetical chess game, our opponent says, "The rules are whatever I say they are because I am bigger and more powerful than you, because I have a weapon, and you don't."  OK, so the only rule is, might makes right. When he turns his back, and we bust his head with fireplace poker then the rules are what WE say. 

The productive class in this country has been restrained by the belief that there are rules and that we know what those rules are.  Now, however, it is more and more openly stated and understood that the rules change to the benefit of the "elites" and the SJWs. 

I don't want there to be no rule of law.  I can see, at least in part, the disaster which will result from a widespread rejection of restraint.  As horrific as such a scenario could become for people like me, it would be much worse for those who have been abusing and ignoring the rule of law up to now. 

Earl and Rurban

Different worlds.  My title comes from a woman with whom I used to work.  We were pulling data for a project that had an urban/rural split.  She tried to say "rural and urban" one too many at the end of a very long day, and we were so tired that we laughed hysterically and probably frightened the horses.

So many of us are urban-dwellers these days that rural living has become a foreign concept. To illustrate, let me show you a set of tools I might want to have in an urban environment:

We're probably not going to be squirrel hunting or building shelters.  Our concerns are going to be protection and self-defense.  One of the more potent tactical flashlights would be a much better choice, but this is something the average person might carry every day if the world starts coming apart. 

For someone heading out into the sticks, on the other hand, being able to shoot some food if the occasion presents itself might be a good idea. 

Get to the choppah!  That's a Condor Tools and Knives Heavy Duty Kukri, and it is very heavy-duty.  It's 1095 carbon steel, I think, just like the Bear and Sons folder below it.  Fire, light, tools, and you can do a fair job of taking care of yourself, at least in the short term. 

When people talk about preps, it is important to understand the environment for which they are preparing.  We have our preferences and biases toward certain tools, what we've used and what's worked for us.  Categories apply in any environment, but the specific ways in which we fill those categories should be tailored to our particular situation and our individual needs.

Another Post-Apocalypse Motorcycle

Over at Bike Exif today they are featuring a custom two-wheel drive KTM 950 Super Enduro.

How does that work?  Magic, I think:

It’s an interesting system. Via gears and shafts, power goes from the countershaft sprocket to the headstock, where it’s converted again via a pair of counter-rotating drive shafts.

The front wheel is driven at 80% of the speed of the rear wheel: this prevents undue torque from affecting the steering. When the rear wheel outpaces the front—via wheelspin in slippery situations—the front starts to dig in, bring the bike back into line. Wasted power becomes extra forward motion.

Cool.  Normally the thought of a powered front wheel on a bike makes one a little nervous.  The last thing you want, especially in dirt, is the front end having a mind of its own.  Not too much detail, but I'm sure these guys know what they are doing.  Anyway, follow the link over and check it out.