Si Vis Pacem Parabellum

| Thursday, July 10 2014 |

Dear Mr. Paul: Suck my balls.

That was my immediate reaction to this limp-wristed nanny-fest, mewling about how modern muscle cars have crossed the 700 horsepower barrier. With AC and a warranty.

While that is indeed no small feat, the article, unsurprisingly, is one big hand-wringing mom-pants moan-athon. Nobody neeeeds that kind of power, says Rik Paul from Consumer Reports. Well, Mr. Paul: Fortunately it is not for you to decide what I or anyone else needs. That, you mewling little shithead, is for the market to decide.

The Camry-driving white knuckle crowd is not going to buy these vehicles. They likely don't even know one exists, until one passes them while they're chugging along at 62 mph in the fast lane. No, these vehicles are a response to that wholly American demand for more fucking power-- by those who enjoy it, and fortunately, innovation in engine technology over the last 50 years means we can have nearly twice the angry while still getting 20+ mpg and not hurting Johnnie Polar Bear.

News flash: A teenage kid isn't going to shell out $80+ grand for a hyper-muscle car, especially in an economy where they're lucky to flip burgers during the summer.

And as to "some experts" who wonder if it's too much power for Mrs. Bluehair to handle-- yes, it is. And once again, that demographic will not be trading their Lexus RX350 in on a 700 horsepower Mustang or Charger.

Those cars, much like the 700 horsepower Ferraris and Lamborghinis one can buy, are there for the folk who want them. And yes, some of those people will run them into objects denser than they are, and I daresay even denser than your average hand-wringing auto journo, but as was the case in the 1960s when the limited of ability started turning Carroll Shelby's creations into shrapnel: They are the exception, not the rule. And the rule, you mewling little pissants, is called Freedom. In case you weren't keeping score, we're the only country with anything like it left on a public road network.

posted by Mr. Lion @ 22:03 EST | comments (2)


Remember when Nanny Bloomtard more or less shut down Times Square to vehicle traffic in yet another lenghty list of social engineering idiocy? Unexpectedly! It had results other than intended.

A trade group representing Broadway theater owners and operators blamed a drop in some ticket sales on panhandlers who frequent Times Square costumed as Spider-Man, Elmo and other characters.

Some prospective theatergoers—particularly those living in suburban New York—had stopped coming to shows because they feel harassed by panhandlers and hawkers, said Charlotte St. Martin, executive director of the Broadway League.

"We are actually seeing a decline in local theatergoers and they tell us that it's because they are accosted, they are overwhelmed," Ms. St. Martin told a meeting Wednesday at the Marriott Hotel, convened by the Times Square Alliance, about the costumed characters.

Golly. Who saw that coming.

posted by Mr. Lion @ 16:03 EST | comments (0)

| Friday, July 4 2014 |

Dear Criminals,

If you're going to steal a car with the goal of evading the cops at 100+ MPH, you might want to do it in something that can travel at that speed for more than a few minutes. And not split in half and catch on fire when the inevitable happens.

posted by Mr. Lion @ 19:09 EST | comments (0)

| Wednesday, June 11 2014 |

Dear Apple,

Do you think that maybe, instead of wasting billions of dollars on IdiotEnergy™ and buying companies that make cheap, shitty headphones, you could-- oh, I don't know-- maybe make OS X Mail not all-but-wedge the fastest fucking computer you make while trying to delete ~5,000 messages via IMAP on a 100 mbit connection talking to a mail server the size of a small fridge? Just maybe?

posted by Mr. Lion @ 17:28 EST | comments (0)

| Monday, June 9 2014 |

Not that long ago...

Men like this were the rule, not the exception.

Jim "Pee Wee" Martin acted like he'd been here before, like jumping from a plane is as easy as falling off a log.

Maybe that's because he had -- 70 years ago.

"I'm feeling fine," Martin told reporters moments after landing in a French field. "... It was wonderful, absolutely wonderful."

Martin was part of the U.S. 101st Airborne Division that parachuted down over Utah Beach in their bid to retake France and, eventually, the rest of Europe from Nazi Germany. They actually touched down in enemy-controlled territory a night before what's referred to as D-Day.

His jump Thursday in the same area was different and -- despite his being 93 years old now -- a whole lot easier.

"It didn't (compare)," Martin said, "because there wasn't anybody shooting at me today."

Via Mike, who has an exceedingly awesome photo to boot.

posted by Mr. Lion @ 13:10 EST | comments (0)

| Monday, May 19 2014 |

Brand stupidity, 101.

When Chipotle spread east some years ago, they found a place in my routine pretty quickly. Well made food, good ingredients, interesting restaurant design, and.. well, shitty canned music. But three out of four is pretty good, much like the food.

Even though the chain suffers from newbie-roadblocks and other etiquette issues that can make for an occasionally annoying experience, the food was good enough to make it worth it.

And then they decided to open a can of corporate hand-wringing at every possible sign of adversity caused by idiots.

First, there was this fucking nimrod who sued the company because they dared to put pork in the pinto beans-- or as most normal people would call it: "make them tasty". The solution was not to stick up a few fucking nimrod friendly signs suggesting that they not order pinto beans with pork in them. No, instead they ruined them by removing said pork, and slathered some touchy-feely corporate-ese over the issue by suggesting that now, the pinto beans are for everyone. Yes, everyone who has a tantrum and a lawyer. The rest of us normal people, not so much.

During the Great Pork Fiasco, another fairly annoying trend snowballed through every Chipotle location I frequent (five of them). The utter collapse of standards. When I first visited a Chipotle on the west coast, all of the food was made very well. The food assembly personnel were trained well enough to realize that you can't actually fit ten pounds of stuff into a five pound tortilla, and hence you could actually eat a burrito without expecting an explosion of goo the moment it was unwrapped.

When the chains started popping up on the east coast, this was also the case. Over the last three or four years, though, that has pretty much gone away, to the point that half the time I order something, it ends up as a collection of glop hammered into a sheet of foil, rather than anything resembling something I'd actually want to eat, or something anyone could eat without a fork and 87 napkins.

The last straw is this blithering idiocy. Kowtowing to yet another pressure group, they've dribbled out another helping of limp-wristed pseudo-policy, this time asking customers not to bring firearms into their restaurants.

Believe it or not, it actually is possible to stand up to this engineered outrage. Chick-fil-A did it, and the resulting tsunami of cash hurled at their franchisees as a result of doing so should be chapter one, page one of "How to run a company and not be a simpering twat". Evidently Chipotle has not read that particular volume.

As such, I'm fine not bringing firearms onto their premises. I'm also fine not bringing money there, especially when there are plenty of Moe's around, who seem able to not only put porky goodness in the damn beans, but also wrap a friggin' burrito properly. And for less money, with less pretentious hippie bullshit.

posted by Mr. Lion @ 20:16 EST | comments (0)

| Wednesday, May 14 2014 |

Dear France,

It has come to my attention that you are going batshit crazy over the imaginary climate pink hippo, or some damn thing.

In order to preserve French culture and finery, I have a few suggestions.

1) Give me all your wine. All of it. Champagne too. While it will be a considerable task to drink ~8 million bottles in 500 days, I am willing to give it the college try, starting with Château Lafite Rothschild. For safety.

2) Give me all your cheese, foie gras, and a top ranking chef from each culinary discipline. 16,000 bottles of wine every day is going to require some solid chow. For the vitamins.

3) Give me the F1 division of Renault. It's about time someone accomplished something with it. Even if that "something" involves 18,000 rpm burnouts and donuts between wine breaks.

4) Give me the Côte d'Azur. I will turn Monaco, Nice, Saint-Tropez, Le Lavandou-- collectively "all the places I really like in France" into the United States of Awesome, under my total control. In the United States of Awesome there will be no speed limits, no Global Warming hysteria, and really, quite a lot of wine and food. I suspect it will be one hell of a party, and you won't need the place anyway, so fork it over.

5) I'll take Circuit Paul Ricard, too. What the hell.

I feel this arrangement stands the best chance of saving what is great about France in the face of general idiocy, socialism, and climate fearmongering. As I really appreciate that ass-kicking you gave the Brits a few hundred years ago on our behalf, I am willing to sacrifice my liver on your behalf.

Love, Mr. Lion.
posted by Mr. Lion @ 18:29 EST | comments (0)

| Friday, May 2 2014 |

Alive and well.

Seems to me the American Sprit is alive and well.

posted by Mr. Lion @ 00:33 EST | comments (0)

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