Month: July 2020

Fond Farewell

Travels

I see that British Airways is finally retiring their wonderful Boeing 747 airliners from service, which gives me yet one more reason not to fly with them.

Seriously:  if I ever had a choice between flying DFW-LHR-DFW on American or BA, I generally preferred to fly with BA even though my track record with the pocket-picking bastards has not always been a good one.  And the 747 was the only reason, because these ugly giants were designed back in the day when passenger comfort was the goal (as opposed to sardine-packing economic reasons, e.g. the 777), and Boeing aircraft could be relied on to act like airliners and not lawn darts (ahem  737MAX).

And call me a timorous wussy, but I’ve always preferred four engines over two when it comes to long-haul flights, because if I’m flying at 40,000 feet over an ocean, I like having the redundancy of lots of engines — no matter (or especially because) how much the engineers try to reassure me that two engines will be just the same, cross their hearts.  I know the odds;  and while one engine failure is bad with either a two- or four-engine aircraft, two engine failures will have a totally different outcome for a 777 versus  a 747.

Gah.  It’s probably a good thing that the Chinkvirus has fucked up international travel for a while.  It’ll give my irritation a chance to subside.

Dept. Of Righteous Shootings

Righteous Shootings

From here in Texas (via several Readers, thankee).

Executive Summary:  two goblins decide to do a little undocumented parts removal from some Olde Phartte’s car.  When he points a gun at them and tells them to stop, they charge him, with the predictable outcome.

My only regret is that neither goblin went to that Great Auto Parts Department In The Sky, but at least he nailed both, and one is listed in “critical” condition, so there’s that.

Note to Our Hero:  you need to upgrade your weapon of choice (as the media never tell us what caliber, what bullet type etc., the morons), OR you need to get a little more shooting practice.

Both would be good.

And They’re The Opposite

Africa, BaconLettuceMayo

Both New Wife and I had to deal with this kind of shit before in South Africa.  Every time we insisted on punctuality, we were told to observe “Africa Time”, which makes “mañana” or “domani” look positively hidebound.  Appointment times are simply guidelines, and meeting times wild approximations, but always, always on the late side.  (I’ve always suggested that if these pricks really want to go onto Africa Time, then their salaries can be paid anytime their employer feels like it, ditto welfare payments, and visits to the ER at a hospital would involve a six- to eight-hour wait, regardless of emergency.  Also, bus service would be sporadic, and stores can be opened and closed whenever the proprietors feel like it.)

Here’s what I’m talking about, in part:

The National African American History Museum suggests being on time, self-reliance, avoidance of conflict and intimacy, and rugged individualism are markers of “whiteness.”

So I guess that “non-whiteness (actually, Black)” markers would be:  extreme tardiness, dependence on others (especially government), conflict-seeking and herd behavior.  (I’m not going to touch “intimacy”, although I would suggest that judging from the unwed motherhood statistics among Blacks, they probably need to avoid it a lot more.)

Sorry, but I’m afraid all that’s not American, but African — and we are not Africa.

Of course, these Marxist fuckers want to turn us into Africa (and they already have, in places like Minneapolis), but that’s just not gonna happen.

All this nonsense is just so wrong, I can barely begin to refute it.

I can’t wait for November.