Pretty sure Teddy would best all comers.

Face in the Blue

Hello everyone!

One of my most-visited sites on the web is Reddit.com, and one of my favourite subreddits is HistoricalWhatIf, an online community that debates historical hypotheticals. Earlier today someone asked the question, In a mass knife fight to the death between every American President, who would win and why? Someone beat me to the obvious answer that a final showdown would see Andrew Jackson, Abraham Lincoln, and Teddy Roosevelt doing a dagger-wielding version of a Mexican standoff, so I took it too far and walked through how I thought every president would turn out. An hour later the result greatly exceeded the maximum 10,000 character limit for a post, so I’ve decided to blog about it instead.

To begin, here were the original conditions of the hypothetical, as suggested by the redditor Xineph:

  • Every president is in the best physical and mental condition they were ever…

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Marcus Luttrell’s shot story on how Chris Kyle gave instant Karma to some oxygen thieves.

Stately McDaniel Manor

File this one under the heading of: Cosmic Justice.  I just finished reading Marcus Luttrell’s latest book: Service: A Navy SEAL At War.  Luttrell is the SEAL whose first book Lone Survivor will almost certainly become a classic of the military genre.  If you want to have a better understanding of those who have written a blank check to us all in any amount up to and including their lives, Luttrell’s books are mandatory reading.  His most recent book was co-written by James D. Hornfischer, the author of another excellent book on WWII naval warfare: The Last Stand of the Tin Can Sailors.  If you ever doubt America and Americans, these books will give you hope; they reveal what we always have been and what the best of us are.

In his most recent book, Luttrell provides a fascinating story about Chris Kyle whose autobiography—American Sniper:…

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Incredible pictures. What amazing detail. Anyone on My blog that wishes to see what photographers strive for, should look at this page.

Pavel Kosenko

My Russian blog started to be visited by many English speaking readers after I posted the following post. I thought it would be great to give this post a special place in my new English blog, and let it be one of the first publications.

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I regularly visit the www.shorpy.com in order to get inspired by the colors of Kodachrome photo film. This website is quite famous and contains a lot of archived photographs, I am sure many of you already know it. My wish was to make a personal selection of photographs I particularly like, in good quality. I hope that you will appreciate them as well. All the pictures have been taken during 1940-1943. Now just look at them and get inspired.

1. “Where’s Adolf?”

May 1942. Langley Field, Virginia. YB-17 bombardment squadron. “Hitler would like this man to go home and forget about the war. A…

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JEEPING …..The art of getting dirty and going broke while slowly heading nowhere and taking all day to do it

Jeeps. I love them. As I have gotten older, My attitude has gone from,”Hey, lets hike up there to see if there is anything interesting.” To,”Hey lets Jeep up there to see if there is anything interesting.” A Jeep as it comes from the factory is a damn capable off roader, but sometimes, just a little more oomph is needed. Then comes the lift kits, & gear changes to render the little grocery getter Cherokee into an off road beast.

Now, I don’t enjoy taking My junk off road to thrash the hell out of it, & break my shit. There are folks out there that do that shot, but I like My Jeep, & that bastard has to get Me home afterward. Jeeping for Me, means My Jeep needs to get Me to the places I want to see, & then getting Me home again. Some of those places are pretty tough to get to, So a little more clearance was necessary. Just a couple of inches to get appropriately sizes tires. Since this also involves long distances on the highway, the height had to be kept at sane levels.

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Once the lift is in place, and 31″ tires that have a little more versatility installed, the speedometer, and low end torque of the engine suffers quite a bit, so time for a gear change in the axles.

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A lower gear, (higher numerically) allows for less engine and transmission strain during hill climbing or slow speed crawling. This prolongs the life of all related components, & makes for more reliability in a vehicle that will transport You to & from remote locations where breaking down is not an option. Having fun is the name of the game, & it’s no fun having to walk for a cell signal in the middle of nowhere, so You can get Your junk towed.

Now that My particular Jeep is modified, I’m able to go to places like this.

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And this.

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My goal in this article, is to get more people interested in Jeeps & Jeeping, because, the more the demand, the better support will be from the aftermarket companies that make jeep accessories, & replacement parts. The Jeep Cherokee in it’s newest form is at least 11 years old, so aftermarket support is important to keep these fun & versatile vehicles on the road, & off of it.

Keep on Jeepin.

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Money, Guns, & Apple Pie. Part 3 : The Russian

Some of, if not all of this blog post, may, or may not be a work of fiction…except for the parts that really happened.

Read Parts 1 & 2

Now that I had a little food down My neck, & Kong along with his buddy, Chicken Little were dealt with, it was time to deal with the task at hand. I needed to hit the road, & get to Vegas. Finding out what was going on with Murph was time sensitive. Also, I was going to have to recruit a little help. Hopefully, The help I had in mind was not somewhere on the other side of the planet. That tends to happen with surveillance experts these days.

A corporation that goes by the name of BOHICA LLC, included on it’s board of directors, several experts in the security area. How bout that name…I’m the Chairman of the board, & I threw the name out to the other members as a joke, & they all went with it. Crazy fucks. Do a web search if You don’t know what it means. Most former former Military folks know. My immediate plan of action was to make a phone call, so I put on My helmet, jumped on My Connie, & pulled out of the lot onto US 50 again. Rolling the speed up to about 80MPH, I pressed the key for voice activation of My helmet commo set. “Call Vic” I said into the mic. there was a pause, and the ringing of a phone. Vic, a former Staff Sergeant in the US Army, & now one of the board members of BOHICA LLC. A person that came over from Russia, Vic is one of the most dangerous people I have ever met, & one of the best looking. That right, Vic, or formerly, Staff Sergeant, Victoria Pavlovich. She prefers Vic, as it’s short & to the point. She isn’t one for small talk. At 5’10” and with the looks of a supermodel, it’s a little tough to grasp just how dangerous She is. I once saw Her kill an insurgent with a knife, & then go straight to a large rock, to sit down to have lunch, & that was as a civilian. I’m glad She’s My friend.

“Yeah” Vic said into Her phone. “Hey You.” I said. “You in the office?” “Shit”,She said. “What do You need now?” “I need you to put up a bird” I said. “Have it follow My GPS signal, & fly ahead of Me to look for cops on US 93 toward Vegas” She responded with,”Wow, that’s not illegal or anything.” “Cry Me a river.” I said. “I need to get to Vegas in a hurry. Somebody there needs My help.” “OK”, She said. “I’ll have the bird out there in 15. I’ll let You know when you can open up Your bike.” Then, She hung up.

I rolled along, and just as I came to the turn for 93 south, I saw the red light given off by the hot gas coming out of the surveillance drone’s tiny jet turbine. About that time, My headset chirped, & Vic was on the line. “Road is clear”, She said. “I’ll buzz You back, if You need to slow down.” Then She hung up again.

I let The Connie stretch it legs, then I set the cruise at 150 MPH. I’ll be in Vegas in no time.

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Money, Guns, & Apple Pie. Part 2 : Kong takes a fall

Some of, if not all of this blog post, may, or may not be a work of fiction…except for the parts that really happened.

Kong looked up. He hadn’t been aware of Me. Mistake #1. This was going to be fun. He started in My direction. Mistake #2. Then, as He got almost within arms reach, out comes His little revolver. BINGO! Mistake #3. It was a S&W Airweight .38 special. Fine little piece, and most certainly stolen from someone that knew their weapons, cause this guy was holding it thrust out like it was contaminated with Ebola virus. He definitely didn’t know weapons.

“So, like I asked, You 2 fellas wanna make some cash?” Kong finally spoke in a tense, high pitched whine,”Yeah. Why…You got money?”  “Not yet.” I said. “But I will before the night is over. I’m gettin paid to do a job, & I need a little help.” I could see the wheels turning behind Kong’s beady little eyes. I almost had Him. Time to set the hook. I brushed My menu to one side, to reveal 5 crisp C-notes on the edge of the table. Kong unconsciously moved closer, even though his feet were still in the same spot, & His eyes lingered on the money like & hungry Lion stares at a gazelle. Almost there. My hand was still on the menu, & I still had My .45 under the table. I wasn’t going to need it.

He spoke again, without taking His eyes off the money. “I thought You said You didn’t have money?” “That’s not money,” I said. “That is pocket change. It’s Yours, if You decide You’ll do a job for Me.” He immediately started to reach for the money, & while doing so, I nudged it off the table. Just as He was about to say they would do it, & before He could utter,”OK” I switched hands with My .45, & grabbed his .38 in My left. In one movement, I cracked Him in the skull, just behind His left ear, & He crumpled to the floor like a sack of shit. All this took place within about 3 seconds, all while His cohort, Chicken Little, stood slack jawed. Believe it or not…Kong was the smart one.

I spoke to the partner in a command voice,”The door…USE IT.” He dashed out the door into the night, & was gone. I didn’t care. The ice cream was melting on My pie. I reached down without getting out of My seat, & liberated Kong’s wallet from his jeans. He was still breathing, & that was good. No need for a death investigation to stall me here in the middle of nowhere.

I motioned at the Cook to come out, as He had just peeped around the corner to see what the racket was. “Drag this deadbeat outside.” I said. “Then do whatever You want with Him after I leave.” He nodded, & without saying a word, drug Kong’s carcass outside. I got up, walked to the counter, & grabbed My piece of pie. The nice waitress was still frozen in place, so I said,”excuse Me Ma’am. Could I get some more of this killer coffee?” She snapped out of it, & hurried over with the coffee pot. “No rush.” I said. “The pie is awesome.” She half smiled, and replied,”The fella that came from the kitchen makes them. He’s a great cook.” I finished My last bite of pie, patted My stomach & said,”Thanks for the great service.” She still had a bewildered look on Her face as I opened Kong’s confiscated wallet & looked inside. There was a five dollar bill inside, & I snatched it out. Paying for My food was the least He could do, for being such a pain in the ass. I laid it on the table, & started for the door. As I walked by the counter, I laid the little S&W on it, & tossed the wallet in the garbage. They needed the little Smith more than Me. I pushed open the door, & as I walked through it, I heard,”Hey Mister..what’s Your na”….& the door closed behind Me.

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Money, Guns, and Apple Pie. Part 1

Some of, if not all of this blog post, may, or may not be a work of fiction…except for the parts that really happened.

I looked down at the clock on the dash of My bike, & it showed just a little after 2 AM. I had My leathers on, & felt just a little of the cold creeping in, so I estimated the temp at about 55 degrees. My stomach was raising all kinds of hell, because I left the motel in a hurry, & hit the road without My supper, so I was a little cranky to boot.

The cryptic message I got from Murph on My smart phone said nothing but, IN VEGAS. NEED HELP. BRING MONEY. It’s good to know You could depend on Murph not to change. I haven’t seen Him in twenty years, & He still has a gambling problem. Not sure yet if He still has the stripper problem or not.

So, I was heading down US Route 50 AKA The Loneliest Road in America, to deal with a problem of a buddy I haven’t seen in 20 odd years.

Murph’s problems were just going to have to wait for 30 minutes or so, cause I was hungry as hell, & that is dangerous…for other people.

I was still a long way from Vegas, & I had not hit US 93 south yet, so I stopped at the first diner I saw to get some chow. It was a clean place, & well lit, just like I liked it, & the windows allowed Me to see the Connie in the parking lot. That bike had all my belongings for this trip in the saddlebags, so I was keeping a close eye on her. I sat down at the booth facing the door, & next to the back wall so nobody could get a seat behind Me. One of the perks of eating in the wee hours, I guess. The waitress was a pleasant enough Lady for having to work the graveyard shift. I tried My best to muster a smile, & I ordered a piece of the apple pie on the counter with some ice cream, & a cup of hot coffee. I like plain old coffee, & you could usually depend on it being pretty good at small diners, & this one was no exception.

I saw the Waitress, warm up My pie in the microwave, & then She put the ice cream on top. Damn it looked tasty. Just as She was about to bring My plate to Me, the door opened, & two fellas in their 20s & wearing hooded sweatshirts walk in. Damn.

I am slipping I guess, because there is no way they could have got past My peripheral vision even 5 years ago. Anyways, She had to set down My plate momentarily to take care of these fellas. I was a little preoccupied I guess, because I also failed to notice the change in Her demeanor as She saw them come in. She obviously saw something that I missed. The fella farthest away from Me, I would estimate about 15 feet, turned just enough towards Me that I could see his hand was resting on the grip of a small revolver stuffed into the front of his pants. Shit! Not only did I not have time for this crap, I couldn’t shoot the bastards, because My piece of pie was right behind the one with the gun. Nothing worse than apple pie a la mode, with a helping of brain matter. Nope. I was going to have to outsmart these fine upstanding citizens. Not a problem. I had about 3 grand in My wallet, & I was going to use it for bait. The one with the gun, was the one that was in charge. I could tell the other one was scared of Him, & He was about 4 inches taller than chicken little. So, at this point, I had to take a gamble. Not too much of a gamble, because I already had My .45 out under the table, & pointed at King Kong’s pointy little noggin. I wasn’t going to shoot him, if I didn’t have to though.

At this point these two social rejects hadn’t even noticed Me, so I softly cleared My throat. “Pardon Me fellas. You two interested in making a little money?” I asked em.

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