Hotel Vagabond

"Adventure is out there!" is a quote from an average Disney movie that I took to heart anyway.  The movie was "Up" and the quote originated from a scene in the movie where the hero of the film was having a flashback to his childhood.  He worshiped an Indiana Jones/Howard Hughes like figure from the 30's that had escapades and adventures from South America and the young boy wished to emulate him.  The reason the quote "adventure is out there" resonated with me so well as a 36 year old man was that it completely confirmed what I already knew.

Adventure IS out there.

Understand the average American yutz sits on his or her ass watching HGTV, going to the gym, eating at Applebee's, and maybe daring to have the audacity to get "hammered at Champs" if they really want to get risque. But none of them leave their 40 mile urban/suburban protective radius and try to explore things.  They plug in, day in, day out, their regular crappy boring lives, never daring to explore or do something different, almost as if they're giving a proverbial finger to god or whoever gave them this shot at life.

God - "Hey, I gave you life.  And not only "life" but like human life.  So you aren't like a worm or a tick whose life is going to be really boring and suck, you get to be the most intelligent and advanced creature on the whole freaking planet.  So what are you going to do with this amazing gift?"

Typical American -"Well, I thought I'd piss it away. I'm going to go do what everybody else is doing and go to college, get a mind-numbing career, have kids I can barely afford, get a divorce and not discern myself or make this one great opportunity you gave me unique.  No, I'm going to just piss it away like everybody else watching reality TV shows."

And thus they waste their one precious life.

However if one were to ever just go on an adventure and "go where no man (or very few) have gone before," they might discover some things.  And not only would they discover things, but they would discover them quite easily.

If anything has been shocking to me in my adventures it has been the ALMOST NEAR GUARANTEE I would find something interesting if I just walked off the beating path.  For example, most people drive ALONG SIDE ON THE PERFECTLY MANICURED ROAD of the Badlands National Park never daring to walk more than 10 feet from pavement..  I "dared" to hike 500 yards in and found machine gun shells from when the park was a pre-WWII bombing/testing range not to mention a fair amount of fossils. 

People always go agate hunting where the POSTED SIGN SAYS "AGATE RESERVOIR" where I have the

"bold"

"audacious"

"revoluionary"

idea to look outside the reservoir and find(I'm not kidding you) a $3,000 agate from a place NOBODY ever thought agates were.

And while most people are going to the hip clubs and bars, I was able to find the old 50's/60's lounges where the original pianist still plays at the piano bar, the original clientele celebrates their 50th wedding anniversary and martini's are cheap and bountiful because the lounge doesn't have a mortgage to cover because they paid it off back in 1977 and can still made decent profit charging $4 for a martini.

But the best discoveries you will have are not finding cheap drinks at old lounges, WWII casings, or precious agates.  It will be other unique and interesting people.  And thus, why I bring up "Hotel Vagabond."

Find as many agates as you want.

Find as many fossils as you want.

Find as many lost Ute Indian archeological finds you want.

The truest and most interesting discovery comes from finding new and interesting humans.

I was already blessed on this trip with meeting the WWII sniper, but let me tell you another gold mine the milquetoast, cookie cutter, SWPL, Eden Prairieite, Applebee's going crowd will never experience - the colorful group of clients at the Skyline Motel.




The Skyline Motel is when I like to stay when in the southern end of the Black Hills.  The reason is simple - it's cheap.  It also happens to be closer to the agate beds I like to scour and thus to make the most of my vacationing dollar and vacationing time I stay at least a couple days here.

However the Skyline Motel is off the beaten path.  Both physically and financially.  It is in Hot Springs, arguably the farthest southern town in the Black Hills and thus not a lot of tourists come here.  It is also VERY cheap (cheapest in the Black Hills) and thus you get not only some shady, but colorful characters.  THere isn't a year that doesn't go by where there isn't some kind of crime or ballyhoo, but at the same time this motel, in part because it allows monthly rentals, attract a lot of free spirits from across the west.  A plurality of the clientele are older men in retirement looking to get away and live on the cheap.  And while disheveled in appearance, it is merely a ruse for they too are explorers, wanderers and adventurers.

For example you see a bunch of drunks pounding down 40 ouncers.  But what you don't see is the two vets (and one economist) who are happier than pigs in mud.  You don't hear the stories they have and interesting lives they've lived and the wisdom they impart.  You also don't see the math and finances (these guys are set for life).  And you didn't see what they did that day (I returned from a near 300 mile motorcycle ride, these two, and some other old timers at the motel, fired up the grill and had burgers and hot dogs).

It only a person with a keen eye who might pick up the smile or the gleam in their eye and realize their lives have not only been fuller, but they are happier.  But let me tender another bit of evidence as to how looks are deceiving.  This is the room of one of the guys.

I didn't want to take more pictures so as not to violate the man's privacy, but the place was immaculate. He has the set up.  Just a small one bedroom hotel with his sitting chair, his TV, his car pictures and all he needs.

Regardless, hanging out with these old timers, listening to their stories, watching them interact and give each other guff (they're like a crass version of Matthau and Lemon) all under the glow of an old school 1940's red neon light (see below) is a thousand times the discovery that will ever be made at your local sports bar.  All one has to do is step outside their front door and keep walking.  The people, things and adventure will find you.

THis post sponsored by "Enjoy the Decline" and Amazon.  Help the Captain avoiding working a real job keep the adventures up.  Buy his book or buy your wares through Amazon.

The Occasional Female Alpha

I am first and foremost for freedom.

I want humans, regardless of race, gender, sexual preference, etc. etc. politically correct obligatory disclaimer crap to get the commie leftist asshole nazis off my ass, etc.

to be free humans pursuing their happiness unhindered.

And though I take a strong stance and insist men and women are predisposed by their sex to play certain roles in society, I will admit that is not always the case.  Also, I will admit that it is best that ONE person lead and ONE person follow, REGARDLESS OF SEX.

In short, I put more importance and emphasis on leadership dynamics than mythical gender equality because, frankly, it is more important to have ONE leader than multiple leaders regardless of who has what gender and what gender has historically been given presumed leadership.

Thus, why it's OK to have a gal in charge.

Not every man is born an alpha male, kick ass, John Wayne, type guy....you know...like me (just kidding...no not really).

Nor is every female born an submissive, compliant chick.

And I will even go so far as to say that there are many instances where the man does not wear the pants in the family and the woman does AND that such an arrangement is OPTIMAL because, once again, it is better to have ONE leader than two, regardless of genders. 

The reason I bring this up is because not all men can be alpha and neither can all women be the first officer.  Sometimes women DO display superior leadership skills and sometimes men DO display superior supportive skills and it is neither your nor my right to criticize such arrangements.  Truth be told, if we are going for maximum freedom and maximum happiness, there are some men out there who need a female leader and there are some female leaders that need some supporting males.  We should not judge or be critical of such arrangements, but supportive because...well...it works.

You all know the couple.  The woman wears the pants in the family and the guy is a little timid.

But does it work?

Sure it does!

Sometimes men aren't cut out to be the leader.

And sometimes women aren't cut out to be the follower.

Both should thank the heavens they have each other and none of us should judge them for it.

Related:

"As a % of GDP"

One of the most important lessons in economics for the beginner is to learn the concept as "a percent of GDP."

How I Befriended a WWII Sniper

This post is not one of bragging or heroism.  It is a post the background story of which is necessary to convey the moral of the story.  Any criticism or accusations of bragging and blowhardism will be ignored.

It is here that I have to confess something, for in me telling this story I will tip my hand and belie what my next project is.  That project being the first in a new series of books I will be starting (for the rest of my life) called,

"The Crotch Rocketeer's Guide To X"

"X" being wherever my motorcycle travels take me.  The Canadian Rockies.  Tierra Del Fuego.  The Wild West.  You name it.

However, the first in this series of books will be South Dakota, specifically, the Black Hills, which is where I currently am.  I am taking photos, notes, and whatnot to compile a guide for everybody (not just crotch rocketeers) about how to avail themselves of the most the Badlands and Black Hills have to offer.  However, since I only have two weeks here I have to spend my time efficiently and judiciously, requiring me to make side trips and short stops along my general way...which is how I made friends with a WWII sniper.

I had met him once before on one of my previous trips to the Black Hills.  This was the byproduct of me hearing about a "barn dance" at some unheard of town, and because this town was so obscure and so out of the way, I was committed to experiencing this event.  Upon arrival I found out the townsfolk were going to go to "the" bar in town and get some drinks before the dance started.  I decided to tag along and upon walking through the door of "the" bar I saw "him."

"Him" being "Lee."  A man nearly 90 years old, thick glasses, a skinny and frail figure.

I was warned about "him."  I was told he was a curmudgeon, a pissed off old man, that he had a sawed-off dual barreled shot gun behind the bar, and that I shouldn't piss him off.

And they were right.

He was a curmudgeon.
He was old.
He was pissed off.
And there was the double barreled shot gun.

However, what they did NOT tell me was that he was a HAAAAYOOOOGE fossil collector and agate hunter.  They also did not tell me his house was attached to the bar.  And they also did not tell me that he left the door open from the bar to his house WHICH GAVE YOU A PERFECT VIEW TO HIS AWESOME FOSSIL AND AGATE COLLECTION!

As I was walking through the bar and looked to my right, I saw all this 90 year old man had collected.  The finest pieces, the finest specimens, the crappiest of which put my best to shame.

I turned to my left, gobsmacked, and like a little kid at Christmas asked if I could look at his fossils.

He said in a very stern tone, "no!"  And if my memory serves me correctly there was even a threat of the double barreled shotgun.

A little shamed, I realized what the townsfolk said was true.  He was an old curmudgeon.  He didn't like strangers.  And even though he had the world's greatest agate and fossil collection, my passion would simply be an annoyance to him and so I let it be.

However, my memories of this town and "the" bar still remained fond.  It is a GREAT TOWN, a LITTLE TOWN, a TOWN YOU WILL NEVER FIND UNTIL I PUBLISH IT IN MY BOOK.  And so, when I was on my way to my hotel and realized the sun still had about another hour to set, I figured I had the time to take a detour, take a snap shot of the bar, the town, and the streets for the "Rocketeers's Guide" and save myself a chore at a later date.

Upon arrival there were no cars in front of the bar.  I was thinking the old man maybe died or just retired, but when I parked my motorcycle near the entry I could hear a television and knew he was still in business.  I didn't want to piss him off so there would be no asking about the agates or fossils, and truth be told, I was a bit fearful of asking him if I could take a picture of the inside of the bar.  Old men like their privacy and this guy DEFINITELY was the type I could see getting pissed off, looking at some crotch-rocket-driving city slicker wanting to take a picture of his "cute" and "quaint" little bar. 

I walked in, took off my helmet, and sure as shit, there was the old man.  Just like I remembered him, but two years older.  However, though two years had passed since I last saw him, he looked 5 years older.  He was even more frail.  He was my height (5'9") and maybe 115 pounds.  His shoulders were also unlevel, suggesting to me his bones were going out of whack.  He was also more bent over, not to the extent of a humpback, but one of a man in his 90's.

Also at the bar was a man rolling his own cigarettes.  He was in fatigues and a muscle shirt.  Approaching 60's.  Looked like Sam Elliot.

Upon seeing me the old man made his way over to my position at the bar.  He used the bar as a crutch to make his way over.  He asked me what would I have and I said, "Whiskey."

I stroke up a conversation with the guy rolling his cigarettes.  Chit-chatting here and there, but as many men in this area of South Dakota, he knew about agates, fossils and the like.  We started talking about different places to hunt and the old man was listening.

However, though interesting, our conversation was interrupted when two large men walked into the bar.  Both drunk.  Both very large.

They weren't loud drunk, but their body language gave it away.  Slow talking, slurring, not getting to their point.  Inevitably they wanted two beers and already I knew something was up.

This bar is a far flung bar in the middle of nowhere.

It is in a town you would not know exists unless you already know it exists and if you're going to get a drink  when you're already drunk this is not the place you'd go.

Also, when you're hammered, you don't ask for a Bud Light.  You go for something heavier with more of a punch, especially if you're over 2 bills.  So when these large men asked for two Bud Lights, I knew something was wrong.

Confirming this was when these vermin started giving the old man shit about the price.

The price for 2 beers was $6.  The gas alone was more than that to get their drunk asses out to this bar from the main drag.  So when they started not "heckling," but complaining, even acting like they weren't going to pay, then (truthfully) I was glad South Dakota recognizes Minnesota's carry conceal laws.

The man rolling his own cigarettes didn't seem to notice.  He was talking to me the entire time.  I was trying to keep two conversations up, responding to the guy with "Uh huh..yeah...yep...uh huh" while watching the two thugs interact with the old man.  Then one of the thugs went to the bathroom, while the other one asked to bum a cigarette off of the other guy.  Funny thing was, the other guy was rolling his own cigarettes, which meant there would be some work required of the thug, which actually put him off.  Regardless, while they were going over the basics of rolling one's own cigarette I strode over to the old man and said under my breath,  

"you alright?  You need me to stick around?"

The old man said,

"Yeah, I'm fine.  Thanks for asking, but I've handled these types before."

Taking the man for his word, I paid my tab and decided to leave.  Grabbed my helmet, walked outside, and there was a truck with a kid who was nowhere near the age of 16 in the driver's seat.  Hand over his face once I walked out.  He obviously drove these two guys to the bar and was sitting just a like a getaway car.  Too damn fishy.  "Oh well," I said to myself, "the old man is a piss and vinegar sort, he's got that shot gun, he'll be fine with the other guy in there."

Put the key in the ignition, started to done my gloves and helmet, and then I just couldn't do it.  I couldn't let the old man be.  Piss and vinegar and anger and weaponry all aside, he was just too damn old and too damn frail.  They could overpower him easily ensuring he never reached the gun.  The large thug could easily hold down the cigarette-roller.  And who knew what role the adolescent thug would play.  I couldn't leave.

So I returned.

Walked back into the bar and somewhat brashly said, "Eh, I decided I'm going to stick around a little bit!" and took my old seat.

The old man came up and asked me under his breath if I wanted a drink on the house.  I said no, but I'll take water.  I asked him quietly if he called the cops, which he hadn't, because he wasn't just a tough, old, curmudgeon man in reputation, but in reality as well.  His pride wouldn't let him.  I figured the best thing to do would be to get the cops to come in and so I walked outside in the vain hopes of having reception.

For some ungodly reason, there actually was reception for both cell AND data in this town.  Got the local county cops on the line, started to give them the information, and then the two thugs walked out.

Apparently, they had had enough.  The two "Bud Lights" were enough for them.  They got in the car their 12 year old son/daughter (I couldn't tell) was driving and as they drove off I saw them open a bottle of tequila.

They already had the booze from the get go.  Stopping by at the old man's joint was something more nefarious, at minimum, ulterior.

I told the cops what was happening, telling them they were leaving, but they may want to send out a squad anyway given a 12 year old driving two men with an open bottle of tequila usually isn't good news for others on the road, and then returned to the bar.

I said to the old man, "looks like they're gone" and before I could ask him about how long it normally takes the cops to get there he said,

"You are really observant.  Most young men don't even pick up on that.  YOu knew what they were doing."

Kind of shocked how somebody couldn't sense something was wrong, I said,  

"Oh, I don't know about that.  It was pretty obvious they weren't up to any good."

I then decided to throw one from his generation to lighten things up,

"Besides, you may have that shot gun, but I don't think you can draw as fast as Glenn Ford."

And mercy did that get him on my side.

"Oh yeah!!!  Glenn Ford was fast, but let me tell you!  This isn't the first time!"

He then regaled me with a tale that I will not repeat as I assume he would like to keep it private.  However, the story consisted of a thug, taking advantage of an old frail man, out in the middle of nowhere, and that old man rising to his own self-defense.  But while the old man was telling me this story he slipped and belied why he may be so curmudgeonly in the first place.  He said,

"I was a sniper in the Pacific and by golly I know how to handle myself!  Ain't nobody going to get me!"

Heh, the old frail man who stood in front of me was a WWII sniper in the Pacific.  He was the badest ass mofo for at least a 40 mile radius.  Sure he was 115 pounds.  Sure he was weak.  But he was never going to go down without a fight and that made him the coolest guy I was guaranteed to meet this entire trip.

I wanted to say something a little cocky, but lesson-teaching, about large, multiple, younger thugs, up close and personal, vs. Japanese officers at 1,500 yards in the hopes it would convince him to retire, hire some muscle or maybe call the cops sooner, but I opted to shut up instead.  He offered again to buy me another drink, but I said,

"No thanks, I'll take you up on it next time I'm out here.  Should be a week or two, but I'll be back."

And before I got up from my seat he said,

"Thank you for making friends with me."

It wasn't until about 10 miles later did I fully realize how freaking cool and awesome it was to have a guy like him thank me (THANK ME????) for being a friend and considering me a friend.  It means more to me than "earning a degree" or "getting a promotion" or some other such lame ass shit that passes for "achievement" or "success" today.  Besides, pissed-off, curmudgeon, angry, WWII sniper, agate hunter, fossil hunter that could put me to shame, now doesn't hate me so much!?   I mean, come on, how do you beat that?

Because Girls Don't Fart

Burping, eating fast food in the morning, and playing video games are a sign of immaturity.

Uh huh.

Once Upon A Time

In a land far far away

There was a bachelor named "Cappy."

He was on his motorcycle crossing the great and barren land of South Dakota in an attempt to make it to the rumored beautiful western side of this land.  The great prophet said there would be mountains, streams, buffalo, cigars, and booze.

Much as Cappy the Bachelor wanted to get there, alas, there was not enough daylight to make the trip in one day, and so he set up camp in a little town along the road.  Broke out his rations, checked the tension on the motorcycle chain, and managed to save $60 by not paying for a hotel. 

In his tent he fell asleep and dreamed.

He dreamed of the mountains he would summit, the booze he would drink, the fossils he would find, and the fish he would catch.  However, since the internet was not available in the middle of nowhere South Dakota, he also dreamed that when he finally made it to his destination, they would have internet access as well.  And when he'd log onto the internet and check book sales for Boris the Buffalo and his Amazon affiliate account, that millions of people bought tons of books and tons of stuff so that he would never have to work again.  And then, upon arriving in Rapid City, Jennifer Aniston would be there in an inebriated and poor-judgement state.

The End.

Keep Kicking Ass Ladies

The real-life Rosie the Riveter quit the factory just two weeks after she began, fearing a possible hand injury would interfere with her cello-playing.

You go grrrrrrrllll!!!

Rumpleminze Leads to Higher IQ's

What'd I tell ya?

Diamonds are a Girl's Biggest Shit Test

I had linked to this before in a linkage fest, but felt it warrants its own post.

At a very young age I knew diamonds were worthless.  They were shinny rocks.  They did nothing but sit on fingers.  And the amount of money I heard the "adults" said they spent on them, I knew they could buy a lot more cool and practical stuff, say like, food, and ohhhhh, rent.

Of course, as I aged, life empirically proved my skepticism, and my education between college and poverty also confirmed to me just was a frivolous expense diamonds were.

However, it wasn't until yesterday reading this post at Maggie's Farm did I really realize what diamonds TRULY are -

They are the world's biggest shit test.

Understand what a woman is asking you to do, gentlemen, when she wants that diamond ring.  She wants you to:

1.  Spend as much as your money as possible
2.  On a veritably worthless hunk of rock that
3.  Offers no genuine production, value or worth other than to
4.  Inflate her petty ego as she uses it to brag to her equally hollow and shallow friends who
5.  Are such vain and worthless people as they measure human worth based on the size of a rock.

In short it is a purified economic test of the shits.  She wants to see how much of your PRECIOUS FINITE LIFE you are willing to sacrifice on SOMETHING THAT HAS NO VALUE.  It is the biggest hoop.  The biggest hurdle.  The biggest shit test.  And it is also incredibly demeaning.

How do you deal with this shit test?

Like any other.

You get a small diamond, or better yet, no diamond at all.  You find a ruby, an emerald, something prettier than a boring old diamond.  You say, "I'm not getting you some big ass diamond, and matter of fact, we're not pissing away precious funds on a bullshit wedding.  We're going to Vegas and getting married by "The Flying Elvi."

Of course, if you're at the stage a woman is still shit-testing you, and you're about to propose AND you still don't know how to pass shit-tests, then go ahead and pony up your 4 months salary, sucker.  You may also want to start stashing away for a divorce fund which you're probably going to need later.  For the larger the diamond you buy, the less of a woman you have.

You Can't Blog on a Motorcycle

Bar not hitting a deer or meeting Jennifer Aniston on the side of the road, I am currently enroute to the Black Hills for a 2 week sabbatical.  Thusly, I will be plagiarizing the work of others as it is somewhat difficult to blog while piloting a motorcycle.  Posts will return to somewhat normal once I make it to my hotel.  On a related note if you are in the Black Hills area, give a shout out to the Captain.  Grab a Rumpie or get a hike or something.
____
I've said it before and I'll say it again.  We need anti-nepotism legislation.  This is one of the things both democrats and republicans (small d/r) can agree on.  There would have been no Bush's, no Pelosi's, no Dayton's and no other spoiled little trust fund brats destroying our country.
____

I don't disagree with him, but one thing that the boomer generation did (quite brilliantly, though unintentionally perhaps) was dumb down successive generations so much those generations were too stupid to

1.  educate themselves about government finances
2.  realize they were being taken advantage of and thus

still vote against their best interests.
____

Again, why ANY controversial blogger NEEDS to consolidate their best writings and publish a "best of."
____

It is a dark, very dark world of psychology that I have yet to delve into the depths necessary to start pulling my own theories, but I theorize my recent "Felon Game" experiment and this are related.
____

 Diamonds are a woman's biggest shit test.
 ____

I think we have found the most despicable person in America with all the traits and characteristics embodied into one soul. Though this lady is a close second.

The Basics of Tax Deductions

The Role Women Should Play in Society

I received a question from a reader about what I thought women's role in society should be.

At first thought I imagined the response would be a lengthy one, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized it was very simple.

Women's role in society should be whatever role women wish to play.

That's it.

Period.

Women, like men, are human and have every right to freedom and should not be pigeon-holed into one role or another.  They are sentient, they are human, they are individuals, there should be no specific "role" they play in society as pre-ordaining them to play ANY role would be be tyranny over the individual.

Where the hubbub or contention occurs is where women do precisely that, but then whine and complain about the consequences.

For example, if a woman wants to get impregnated at the age of 16...and then 18...and then 21 by three different men, I personally do not care.  But when you start telling me I have to pay higher taxes to bail this parasite out of her own idiotic mistakes, then I morally and logically should have a say in how she should lead her life because the veritable parasite is now consuming part of mine.  I would go so far as to even say I have the right to force birth control on her.  And the reason why is that when somebody starts requiring others pay for their way, then they cease to be an individual and forfeit all rights.

Or another example. Say a woman majors in a worthless subject.  I don't care.  I don't really care.  You go major in Lesbian, Transgender, Chicano-White-Privilege, French, 18th Century Poetry for all I care and make sure to go $150,000 in debt at some prissy little liberal arts college tucked away in the non-urban East coast.

As long as she lives up to the fact she will be unemployable, in debt, and just plain out of luck.

But once I'm requested to bail her out (either though loan forgiveness via the taxpayer or lobbying to increase my taxes to make a pointless, make-work government job for her), then once again she has forfeited being an individual and I have every right to dictate to her what she should and should not do.

In other words, the issue of "women's place in society" is not one of liberty or individualistic choice or idealism.  That is a simple matter - they should be allowed to do whatever they want.  It's a matter of whether society is man enough to let them suffer the consequences of their decisions and TRULY TREAT THEM AS EQUALS or is hoodwinked into being asked to bail out women for stupid choices, stupid mistakes, and just plain stupidity.

But don't think this just applies to women.  It is only women we are talking about because of the question posed to me.  This lesson applies to both sexes.

To what extent do we grant freedom to an individual to fuck up his or her own life?

Philosophically and morally I say "the fullest extent."

But it is on the grounds and understanding that they get to suffer the full and complete consequences of their mistakes, their stupidity, and their inferiority with no cost to the taxpayer. 

Of course, we do not have this today.  Everybody gets bailed out.

The loser who borrowed more than they could afford to buy a house.
The loser who had more children than he/she could afford.
The loser that majors in English in an English speaking country where English is a skill akin to breathing.
The loser that started a sports bar or a trinket shop because they had a dream but no business acumen. 

I could go on, but you get the point. 

Mature, freedom-loving adults, allow people to do whatever they want because that is freedom and that is liberty.  It is the consequences of stupid decisions that causes the controversy about women's role in society today because women (disproportionately to men - and yes, I will defend that with empirical data) then go begging, nay, DEMANDING the rest of RESPONSIBLE society lessen their standards of living to bail them out of their stupidity.

So what role should women play in society?

Simple, whatever they want, long as they're adult about it.

"My Mom Is Taking Care of My Child"

Rip apart the boomers all you want (and by all means, please do), there is one area or arena they are getting their comeuppance and getting paid back in spades - raising their children's children.

I don't believe this to be a plague that affects middle or upper classes, but certainly the lower-middle and lower economic classes.  And there could not be any better form of poetic justice.  For if you raised your child so "crappily" that your child now lacks the common sense and reason not to fornicate without protection and get/get somebody pregnant, it is now YOU who gets to pay the consequences. 

Forget retirement grandma, you get to baby sit while your harlot of a daughter goes and works at the local hair salon and then goes to night school to become a "chef" because she can't take care of her kid she had when she was 16.  

Hey, did you have your kid at 15 and (surprise surprise) dad didn't stick around to raise your son?  Well, don't be surprised when your son "Jessup" comes home with his 17 year old crappy goatee telling you he knocked up his girlfriend.  18 more years of strife for you!

And did your son carry on a life long tradition of children born out of wedlock as he pursues his 'aspiring rap artist' career?  Good luck "grandpa," you get to deal with two children now.

Naturally these types of *COUGH COUGH WHEEZE WHEEZE* "families" never read Cappy Cap.  I'm just highlighting the above study/link so you can enjoy the self-inflicted misery these losers of society foist upon themselves.

Today's Word - Nomenklatura

Future members of the Soviet nomenklatura started out in the Young Pioneers, the Hitler Youth-esque brainwashing organization that replaced the Boy Scouts. From there, they graduated to the Komsomol, the youth wing of the Communist Party, before becoming card-carrying Bolsheviks themselves. At every turn, they were vetted for their loyalty to the communist revolution and their willingness to blindly follow orders. It was effectively feudalism; the nomenklatura fiercely promoted the interests of their Inner Party patrons in exchange for little pats on the head.  Modern American feminism functions in almost the same way.

Matt also has a good post here on an unrelated topic.  It is a review of Roosh's "best of" series, but he makes a point that I think every blogger, male and female, of a controversial nature needs to heed.

You NEED to publish your works in physical format not so much to "make coin" on it, but so that your best works of literature and thought are forever preserved and not deleted by some bureaucrat or Google-apparatchik.  It was the primary reason I published my "best of" book and is the primary reason you should be publishing your works as well.

Paul Elam and Bill Burr Walk Into a Bar

A good post from Mr. Elam.

The Father Could Not Be Reached for Comment

But the mother's boyfriend could.

Regardless we don't need no STIIIIIINNNNNNKINNNNNNG FATHERS!

Then Go Marry Jesus

Cripes.  A 33 point checklist????

Only one man I know who can meet all those requirements and more
 
JESUS, SUPER-ROCK-STAR-BAD-ASS-ALPHA!

I'll say it again for the cheap seats - the majority, not all, but the majority of young born again Christian women abuse religion as a means to leverage control, authority and demands over others.  Additionally, no man can compete with Rock Star Super Alpha JC.  It is an impossible task so do not even bother trying.

I'm Not Feeding Your Mistakes...Er "Children"

For the Patron Saint's Name of Frick.

THankfully, the United Way is private, unlike the public schools which force me to feed other people's mistakes children.

How Western Civilization Will (Temporarily) Save the US Dollar

A law, not a theory, but a law of economics is if you print off more money, but the amount of goods and services remain the same, you will have inflation. 

There is no if's, and's, or but's about it.  YOu print off more money without a commensurate increase in the production of goods and services you have created inflation. 

This law is of course, masked by the complexities of central banking and international economics.  But pull as many tricks out of their central banking hats, in the end this law will end up proving true, undoing and unraveling all the tomfoolery and magic tricks central bankers try to play.

Many people are banking on such an unraveling.  They're buying gold and silver, ammo and guns, and some are investing in more stable currencies like the Norwegian Kroner or Swiss Franc.  However, there is always the issue of "investment horizons" and as John Maynard Keynes said, "Markets can remain irrational longer than you can stay solvent."  And today's US dollar is one such instance. 

THere is no doubt whatsoever that with "QE^1...n" set by the Fed there has been an increase in the money supply that outstrips the increase in GDP.  Naturally there should be inflation, but one of the little smoke screens employed by the Fed (or actually, a lack of business confidence in the US economy) is that those monies are sitting in the banking system, afraid to be lent out against such poor economic prospects.  So yes, the CPI shows no inflation, but the moment that money ever gets circulated into the economy or velocity increases (if you believe in that stuff) inflation will kick in.  Regardless, the larger point is it doesn't matter to the gold or silver investor WHERE the US dollars are sitting, all that matters to them is HOW MUCH DOLLARS ARE OUT THERE as that is what directly speaks to the price of precious metals relative to a fiat currency.

However, the above situation, though true, is over-simplified.  Specifically, it does not account for the irrationality of other actors in the world economy and does not explain the recent year long drop in gold and silver prices.  And if we were to investigate the "irrationality of other actors" in the world economy, we'd find there's one simple reason the US dollar has had a resurgence against precious metals (and other currencies)-

Western Civilization.

Understand that though the US and other western nations have massive economic and debt problems, they have one advantage over their non-western counterparts - we are more civilized.  By "more civilized" I mean precisely that.  WE don't have a ton of corruption say like, China.  We don't have to bribe officials like say, Russia.  We don't have people shooting each other in the streets say like, most of Sub-Saharan Africa.  And in general our population agrees and abides by our legal, contact, and economic laws (we pay people on time, we aren't trying to price gouge people at the local bazaar, etc.)  And when you compare these traits and factors to people with

trillions of dollars worth of their local currency
in a world where evil is winning in most places
and most other countries are kleptocracies

that disgusting, dirty, evil United States, with it's despicable dead, white European male culture, where those stupid westerners get up, day in, day out, go to work and do what they say they're going to do, still looks to be the best bet. 

This "trust premium" if you want to call it that has two effects.  One, it provides additional value to the US dollar above and beyond it's purchasing power or underlying economic production.  The dollar now becomes a "safe haven," or "reserve" for people around the world looking to just maintain the value of their currency.  Two, it increases the value of the dollar relative to other currencies, despite our horrible financial fundamentals in that we are the "least sucky currency" or as a reader put it, "the least ugly sister in the room."

"Sure," you might say, "I can see how this affects the exchange rates between the US dollar and other currencies, but why precious metals?"

And that is an outstanding economics question, one we can take a lesson from.

Understand that there is a difference between "price" and "value."  People often confuse the US dollar (or any currency) with value thinking currencies somehow have value.  In reality currencies are nothing more than units for pricing something that DOES have value.

"How much is that Big Mac worth?"  4.23 US dollar units of value.

"How much is that gallon of gas?" 3.97 US dollar units of value.

In other words a Big Mac or a gallon of has still has the same value.  A Big Mac will fill your stomach just the same whether the price is 5 cents or $500, and a gallon of gas will move your car the same 20 miles regardless of whether its price is 40 cents or $300 per gallon.  It is the CURRENCY'S PURCHASING POWER THAT CHANGES, not the value of the underlying good.

To this end you can see why gold and silver have dropped in price in terms of the US dollar.  Not because they went down in value, but because with everybody scrambling to park their assets in US dollars (and dollar denominated assets) the value of the dollar has gone up, allowing the dollar to purchase roughly 20% more gold and silver than it did a year ago. 

But once again, we need to look at the fundamentals.

Yes, it's nice that we have the least sucky currency.

Yes it's nice that CHina's bubble is starting to burst (not for the Chinese people, or for that matter, global economy, but for the US dollar)

And yes, it's really nice that the US "only" has 105% debt to GDP compared to Europe's 160% debt to GDP.

But we still suck.  And over time, unless there is genuine, booming and miraculous economic growth to provide the US dollar with genuine production/wealth-based value, you can expect the eternal law of supply to play out in the end and the dollar to drop relative to other items that have real or "intrinsic" value. 

Enjoy the decline!

Which is Why I Own a Car

About the only place I ever lived that made sense to ride mass transit was Chicago.  Otherwise, no amount of buses, light rail, trains, or what have you was efficient enough to compensate for the fact a car could go from the driveway of your house to the driveway or parking lot of your destination.  Throw in the fact it gets gold in Minnesota and walking to and waiting at bus stops makes mass transit all that much more unappealable.

There is another reason not to ride mass transit.  It (usually) has people who are so bad at life they can't afford a car.  It isn't that hard to afford a car.  Plenty of used cars nowadays for $3,000.  Leftists and the bleeding heart types will say, "but who has $3,000 they can just drop on a car?  You hate the poor!  Why are you so mean!  Not everybody can be like you!"

I ask how CAN'T you save up a measly $3,000 for a car?  Hell, I managed to do that working for $6.90 an hour AND pay for college, living expenses, etc.  A car would be kind of your primary thing you need to get since it allows you to get to work, the grocery store and makes life a hell of a lot easier.  Sure, maybe ride the bus for a couple months to build up your reserves, but (and again, unless, say you're commuting to downtown for work and it just pays to take the bus) in the end every person should be able to get a cheap used car.  If you can't, then there's something wrong with you.