Annoyance

Something bugs me.

Okay. Ask anyone who really knows me, and I've got more than my share of pet peeves. Stuff just bugs me, okay?

Anyhoo, most anyone these days has a functional knowledge of a microphone; that is, to say, y'all know what a mic is and what is does/is used for. No one needs to know how for this discussion.

Furthermore, I'd wager that most of ya even know- or are smart enough to utilize basic context clues to decipher - the difference between a wired mic and a wireless one. Just in case, today's lesson includes pictures. First, the single most common handheld wired mic in use in the known universe, the Shure SM58:

And to follow, the SM58 capsule (that's the part of the mic that pics up the sound and surrounding components) mounted on a UR2 handheld transmitter; in other words, a wireless version of the same mic:


Now, these mics are the the industry standard handheld vocal microphones. Neither are terribly expensive, and both are readily available at any music store worth its salt.

Large touring sound companies have literally thousands of these on hand at any given time.

So why is it that we keep seeing ads on TV, pictures in newspapers/magazines, and photographs galore of some artist taking that magical "cover photo" holding the wired 58 with NO CABLE ATTACHED??? Any artist that's making their way onto t-shirts that they didn't make themselves is being backed by a record company that's promoting them. Is it too much to ask to A. plug in a mic cable or B. rent the wireless version for the photo session?

Most folks go on about their daily lives never knowing of the ignorance of producers, musicians, and photographers who are all too stupid or worried to mention how completely moronic it looks to be pretending to sing into a microphone that isn't even plugged in.

Well, now you know.

This public service announcement brought to you by your cranky Monday version of your humble host. Mabye nice-nice tomorrow;)



tweaker

Oh, Snap

If snark were a cartridge, then Larry Corriea would be a 30mm vulcan.

Take this snippet from a recent fisking of a local (to him) university newspaper story:

And it isn’t like somebody can’t off themselves with a knife, drugs, alcohol, tall buildings, rope, traffic, water, fire, or my personal favorite, taping 200 Twinkies to your body and walking onto the set of the Biggest Loser. Guns are just more efficient. Which is why they’re also the #1 choice for shooting bad people. Twinkies on the other hand… not so much, but they’re so very delicious.

Yup. And you wonder why copies of this guy's book go for upwards of $800 in Germany.


Update: In keeping with today's theme of All Linky, No Thinky, I bring you (a day late) the Quote of the Day, from the lovely Miss Brigid:

Even Grumpy could handle Big Box Mart with a .45.

Ha!



tweaker

Gunnie Bleg

I need a quick favor.

Anyone who knows anything about the venerable .22 Winchester Magnum can feel free to fill up the comments section of this post with suggested ammo for a Jesus Gun (a word, by the by, that I learned in this post by Cowtown Cop; a must read!). Strictly for a back-up gun, but I'd like a good stout - yes, I know it's just a .22, but it's better than a .44 in the safe;) - load for last-ditch defense.

Help? Please? Is this thing on?



tweaker

W-I-N Spells Kickass Wife

Some Wedding Anniversary Gifts according to tradition.

1st: paper
2nd: cotton
3rd: leather (wish I'd known about THAT one;)
4th: fruit or flowers
5th: wood
6th: candy or iron
7th: wool or copper
8th: firearm
9th: pottery or willow
10th: tin or aluminum

Okay, #8 may be a little off from tradition, but that crap is written by losers and their petty wives who allow the bride's parents to pay for a $20,000 wedding that has 300 people invited to it, 280 of which the couple doesn't even know.

However, if your loved one sits atop the pedestal of All That Kicks Much Ass like The Wifey does, and your wedding anniversary was today like ours was, then your lovely lady got you a shiny new boomstick like mine got me.

I love you, dear. More than you'll ever know.



tweaker

Gun Pr0n #4

Wow. It's been quite awhile since the last time I posted up some good gun pr0n on teh int3rw3bz. It'd be cool if I had a collection like his or hers so I could post up weekly, but I don't so I gotta stretch my pics out over time.

At any rate, this edition of pr0n here Where Sometimes Things Go Bang features a version of one of the most common semi-automatic handguns out there. This is the Beretta 92FS Inox:

Click to emiggonate

Sexy, eh? I lurves me some stainless steel. No finish required. It's like being naked:)

This is first firearm that The Wifey and I ever purchased. She used to work in the catering department at a local BBQ joint. One of the events she worked was a charity event for Texas A&M's alumni association that included four raffles. One of those raffles was for a stainless Ruger Mark VII chambered in 7mm Remington Magnum with a gorgeous green laminate stock (nicely complimented the stainless, I might add). Heck of a medium-to-large game hunting rifle. Too bad I'd never been hunting.

So a quick sell to a guy at work netted me enough cash to pick up this totally stainless Beretta brand new in 2001. Allegedly, Beretta decided to discontinue production on all stainless handguns around 2005 (ish?), and after that rumor the store shelves saw a new version of the 92FS Inox with black hardware including the safety/decocker lever, the mag release button, and the hammer (yuck!).

I'm glad we got this one when we did, and I'm also quite happy about the five factory magazines that just arrived last week. That resulted in this past Friday's range session, in which 150 rounds were stuffed 15-deep in each of the five new mags twice (that's gonna be on the test;). As you might expect, all five mags performed flawlessly.

Well, that's that until next time, which might come faster now that I've got more in the arsenal. The next installment may involve something pink...



tweaker

File under "W" for WTF?

I have got to stop watching the news.

When I go for long periods of time without watching the news at all, I find myself in a near-Zen state of mind, where there are no urges to pray for Biblical-scale gene pool chlorination. I don't have any monumentally stupid actions of folks abroad to make me wonder why I get out of bed at all.

Well, as fortune would have it, I just had to catch the news this morning. On my friggin' day off, no less, when I should have been walking around the house naked with a bag of Cheetos.

(Sorry 'bout the mental image, for those of you who know me personally.)

We all know of the recent arrest of one Illinois Gov. Rod Blagojevich, and if you're reading this blog, then your only surprise is that he actually got busted at all (what with him being above the law and such). But nothing short of a full frontal lobotomy could have prepared me for this: his approval rating is at 7%.

Can someone explain to me what kind of moron you have to be to still back ole' Blago after all this? I don't give a damn if he's proven guilty in court or not (I feel the same way about Lon Horiuchi. I could give two shits and a fuck what the courts said. He's a murderer, plain and simple). He was caught on tape basically holding a public auction for a United States Senate seat.

If you can approve of that, then you deserve to live in the ruined Land of Lincoln, under the rule of just this kind of piece of shit.

It doesn't surprise me in the least that there are people like Blago in seats of political power. I pretty much expect it. Authority will be fought for hardest by people who crave power. What kills me is the Lambs To The Slaughter following that people are a part of, despite any wrongdoing. Rod Blagojevich is a Royal Douchebag of the Highest Order. I hope he drops the soap on his first day at Club Fed. But if there's anyone out there who still gives their support to this piece of dogshit (no offense, dogshit) and accidentally stumbled their way onto this blog, I have a favor to ask:

Please have yourself sterilized, post haste. Thank you.



tweaker

Four Long Years

Four years. That's a long time, especially when you're counting it from the time you lost someone.

On this date in 2004, a madman walked into Alrosa Villa, a music venue in Columbus, Ohio. Damageplan was onstage at the time, touring in promotion of their album New Found Power. For reasons he took to his grave, he walked up from backstage and fired the first three of fifteen shots that would instantly kill Darrel Lance Abbott, known to the world as Dimebag Darrel, guitarist of Damageplan and formerly Pantera.

Some thought that Nathan Gale, former Marine-turned-murderer, was crazed over the breakup of Pantera. Others thought that Gale believed that Dimebag stole one of his songs. Gale's mother says that, due to paranoid schizophrenia, Gale believed that the band was stealing his thoughts. Dimebag's brother and long-time bandmate, drummer Vincent Paul Abbott (Vinnie Paul) swears that, due to the random nature of the crime and the cold, calculated nature in which it was carried out, that Gale was the instrument in a larger conspiracy, and has offered hundreds of thousands of dollars for anyone with information to support his belief.

Sadly, I don't think that we will ever know just what motivated Nathan Gale to murder. What we are left with is memories, stacks of CD's, and the love of one of the greatest guitar players ever to walk the face of the Earth.

Here's to you, Dime. Rest in peace.





tweaker

Carry On, Santa.

No, those are not tears in my eyes. I have no idea what you are talking about.

h/t to Diamond Mair.



tweaker

Early Christmas

I wanted to write this post sooner, but there just hasn't been the time. I've had to either work late or, in the case of last night, go to a Christmas party. But I've really been thinking about it, honest! (Mid-post edit: Grab a cup of coffee. This post is getting long!)

I guess it's time to spill it. As I mentioned here, the Tweaker Family is doing a little panic buying. The Friday before that post, I'd ordered some magazines for my Px4, The Wifey's 92FS, and an AR that I didn't own yet. Saturday brought more fun, trying hard to find a new AR that wasn't overpriced by three or four hundred dollars. Sheerly out of dumb luck, there happened to be a gun show that weekend, so we planned out the day around when gun stores and the gun show opened.

The gun show opened earliest, so we made the trip into and then across town to be there five minutes after it opened. It was still packed. We decided that the best approach was to start at one side, and just go up and down the aisles with our eyes ever watchful for AR's. We also knew that The Wifey's carry gun may be lurking in there, so that meant checking out each and every handgun in the joint, too.

And it's a good thing we did, because the only two new AR's that fit the bill were a $2400 Colt (*drools*) and a DPMS that was about $500 over retail.

After getting within two aisles of the end of that trip, we spotted a pretty blue laminate stock stuffed with a 10/22 that drew our attention to a pretty big dealer. A few long guns (no AR's) and a ton of handguns. Including exactly one Magnum Research box. "Honey, look," says I. "Is that a compact?" she replies. "Yep, but it's polymer, not steel. You still interested?" I ask. "Lemme hold it."

It was the first polymer Baby Eagle 9mm Compact either of us had ever seen in person. She'd been married to the steel version (which we'd seen twice before, including at The Gun Store That Shall Never Recieve My Dollars), but gave this polymer pistol some serious consideration. "It's not steel," I remind her. "But, you said that the polymer version would be easier to carry all day because it's lighter, right?" she answers. "Yeah, and being a 9mm you're not gonna have killer recoil anyway. It should be just as easy to shoot," I say with a touch of speculation in my voice.

All of the sudden, her face lit up, she looks at the lady across the table with a really big smile and says, "I'll take it!" I'm caught off guard. "Honey, are you sure? You want the polymer gun?" "Yes," she says. I need convincing. I didn't want her to get it just because it was there. I needed to know she wanted THAT gun. "Are you positive? Do you LOVE that gun? Does it give you warm and fuzzy feelings when you hold it?" She looks at me with all the confidence in the world and says, "I. Want. That. Gun."

I grin and look across the table. "We'll take it."

Next stop, Academy. I'm determined to show up there until they just meet me at the door and say they have no AR's available. And while they did have a Remington R-15 and a Sig 556 sitting there, they did not have the carbine that I was after. But they did have a shotgun that we'd been looking at for some time. See, The Wifey suddenly got it in her head that she wanted to bust clays, and that when The Little Girl got old enough, she'd be busting clays, too. So we it was decided that a pretty little shotty was in order, in the form of a pink-marble-stocked Mossberg 500 Super Bantam 20ga. Cutest. Shotty. Ever. Keeping with the 200-round-rule (200 rounds will go through a gun before it is considered functional and put to work hunting, defending, etc.), I picked up 200 20ga shells in a couple different weights.

From there, an ammo run at Bass Pro Shops, where I found plenty. 100 rounds of 55-gr FMJ .223, 100 rounds of 55 gr. MC 5.56, 200 rounds of 124 gr. flat-nose 9mm, 25 rounds of 12ga #6, and 25 rounds of 12ga. 00-buckshot. (Note: I now have magazines AND ammo for an AR I still don't own).

We went home from there, as The Little Girl was not so excited about gun shopping as The Wifey and I. We checked out the two new guns, let The Little girl hold what would eventually become her second firearm (the 20ga), and off I went to my local gunstore.

There I found no AR's (a theme that was getting old), but more pink caught my eye. Before me on the rifle rack was a pink-synthetic Crickett .22LR. That was an easy decision. This would be The Little Girl's first firearm. I went ahead and threw in the pink-camo rifle bag. Hey, a girl's gotta accessorize, doesn't she? As I was shouldering the rifle, this one bubba rolls his eyes and shakes his head. I didn't mind, as every woman in the place (many work there, all the daughters, daughters-in-law, or granddaughters of the owner, and the lot of 'em real easy on the eyes) said that I was gonna have the happiest daughter ever and I was the Greatest Dad On Earth.

I grinned at bubba on my way to the register:)

Before I left, I asked if they had any AR's coming in. The owner - the most polite, old-fashioned, bona-fide certified dipped-and-fried Texan I think I've ever met - said that he had some on order, and a waiting list to buy 'em up. He offered to put me on the list, and I accepted.

And I couldn't be happier for doing so. Because the following Wednesday, I got a phone call as I was finishing up a house that was in the trim-out phase. It was right before lunch. The guy at the gun counter of the tack & feed & hunting & archery & western apparel & stuff store said that he'd just taken three AR's off the truck, and wanted to know if I wanted one. After getting a quick description, I told him I'd be in the moment I finished up what I was doing, and that would probably be around late-lunch time. He assured me he'd hold one for me if I wanted to wait until after work, but there was no way I was taking the chance.

I got there, and before me were three Armalite M15A4 carbines. It was truly a thing of beauty. One of the daughters pulled one down for me. I inspected the rifle carefully, and realized that, despite my excitement, I really didn't care for the trigger. It felt like you hit the back of the trigger guard and then had to squeeze a little harder before the hammer fell. I don't know if I just passed on some one-in-a-million factory trigger, but I knew I didn't like it. So, she handed me the second one. Much better trigger, broke right at the beginning of the second stage. She asked if I'd like to try the third one. Why not? Well, good thing I did. This one broke just a split second after the second one, and it felt great. I laid the Armalite down in front of me and said, "This is my AR. There are many like it, but this one is mine." She laughed at me, put the other two away, and grabbed me a 4473 and a bottle of water.

So the gun-buying spree has come to a close. Four new arms in as many days, and including the Hydra-shoks I picked up on Monday nearly 700 rounds of ammo. All I've got left is a small handfull of 9mm Hydra-shoks and some magazines for the Baby Eagle, which my wife sagely decided to wait on, just in case neither one of us likes to shoot the pistol.

Oh, and one other thing. I've got to get a rear sight for the AR. It's got the front battle sight, but a flat-top receiver with nothing on it. I'd bleg for it now, but I think a fellow blogger has just what the doctor ordered.

So the Baby Eagle and the 20ga should get a good breaking-in this weekend. I'll do the Crickett later. I don't want to do 200 rounds of single-shot .22LR before OR after a ton of 9mm and 20ga.

Range report and pics soon (read: eventually).



tweaker

Camera Faux Pas

I forced myself to watch the local news tonight. They were running a story on open carry in Texas, and I prepared myself for the heartburn and high blood pressure that would associate the lousy light that would inevitably be shone on the issue.

What I was not prepared for was the owner of a local gunshop to invite a camera crew into his store (I recognized it) and tell all the world that open carry would be a detriment to the person carrying the firearm and everyone around him, as opposed to concealed carry (the classes for which are offered at his store).

The first thing that I thought of - besides drinking heavily - was, "God, I hope his email address is on his website."

Well, I guess God really does love me and want me to be happy.

Mr. (redacted, for now),

My name is (Speakertweaker). I am a firearms enthusiast and Texas CHL holder.

I was intrigued by a story on (the local news) this evening regarding open carry in Texas. As I expected from the media, the idea of openly carrying a firearm, even by people who were otherwise licensed to do so concealed, was not shown in the best light.

Then the worst happened. What I imagine was a small portion of your interview was shown, in which you made it perfectly clear what your position is on open carry (that it would be more of a detriment to the person carrying and those around it vs. concealed carry, if memory serves).

Whatever the content of your interview was, that part was the ONLY part shown, and it clearly painted you in the light of opposition to open carry.

And this is where I fundamentally disagree with your actions. We are all entitled to our opinions, and while I rather strongly disagree with your position on open carry, I do not criticize you for having that position. However, I would expect someone who's been involved in firearms sales and training and operates a firing range to be more cognizant of their words and actions regarding the forward movement of firearms laws, whether you agree with their practice or not. I'm sure that many gun owners had no intention of concealed carry when the issue originally came up in Texas, but can you imagine the damage done to the movement if gun store owners were openly admitting to the world that they opposed the law as a danger to the person carrying the gun?

Whether or not you plan to practice open carry, you have done a disservice to the gun owners of Texas by allowing yourself to say that you oppose others' right to do so.

In light of recent events, and with our Second Amendment rights being threatened on a national level, I would expect more from someone in your position in defense of those rights on the state level.

I would understand if something you said was taken completely out of context, but know that that would still show carelessness on your behalf.

I would like to know officially where you stand on the issue. Please feel free to respond to this email.

We'll see if I get a response. I'll let you know.

And here I was all set to tell y'all what the Big Brown Truck Of Happiness brought me today. Oh, well. I guess I know what tomorrow's post will be;)



tweaker

Note To Self

When you finally have enough {insert preferred personal defense rounds here} to carry a reload in the mag pouch you got for your birthday in May, remember this:

Magazines have sharp edges. Stop scraping your arm on them.

That is all.



tweaker