Selfless to the Last

In spite of my best efforts to stop him, Marv has blogged again.

This time he is giving advice on the disposition of a malfunctioning cockatiel.

Posted by Steve H. at 1:45 PM | Permalink |  

"Childish Superstition"

I guess it's predictable that I would have something to say about the Drudgebart.tv.com-linked story about Einstein dismissing religion as "childish superstition."

I don't think anyone should be surprised, assuming the story is true. Einstein was a leftist who had a childish superstition of his own: that the world could be a man-created utopia ruled by a single central government. And many of his fellow physicists, scientists, and mathematicians shared his superstition.

As I have noted many times before, mathematically inclined people tend to be a lot like idiot-savants. All the brains are packed into one side of their heads, leaving little grey matter to deal with things like humanity and human relationships. They typically have very childlike ideas about human nature. They often lack the capacity for empathy, which explains a lot of the misery inflicted on us by people who write code. They often have gigantic egos. They are among the last people we should turn to for advice regarding subjects like love, ethics, or religion.

Some people swing both ways, but they are rare. It's not uncommon at all to see people who score 800 on the math SAT and around 500 on the verbal side. In fact, unless things have changed since I was a kid, the vast majority of the really high scores are mathematical, period.

Aside from his basic nature, consider Einstein's qualifications. From a fairly early age, he was a pampered, prized, tenured academic. Why anyone would expect a person like that to know anything about life is beyond me. Think of the academics you've known. How would you like to live in a world where their kind ruled? It would be like Cambodia under Pol Pot. Academia attracts the petty, the cruel, and the naive. As professors and instructors, they're harmless and amusing. As rulers? Horrifying. The end result is piles of bloated bodies decaying in the sun.

I do not suggest that Einstein was cruel or petty. But naive? Absolutely. Before you give me someone like Albert Einstein to tell me how to live, give me a pastor or rabbi or priest chosen at random, any day. Someone who has married and raised children and lived with adversity, without giving up his or her faith. Someone familiar with other people's suffering. Not an academic who has never known anything but a big, warm, permanently attached university nipple. A nipple which tends to flow more freely--more liberally, if you will--when the beneficiary attacks God.

I have never understood why academics get tenure. Presidents don't. Engineers don't. What's so special about academics? We give them so much security, it warps their minds. They forget what life is like for the rest of us. No wonder they make up such a huge portion of Democrat delegates. Social engineering is all theory to them. They can't understand what it's like when people are forced to become their gamepieces and endure the consequences of their inept theorizing. It's only natural that socialism and purges and so on make sense to people like that.

The Apostle Paul (a reformed academic) supported himself as a tentmaker while traveling the ancient world on foot, to spread the Gospel. He was flogged repeatedly; the skin and flesh were ripped from his back. He was stoned. He was shipwrecked. Finally, he was murdered. Corrie ten Boom survived on offerings as she traveled the world telling the world that she loved God, in spite of the fact that the Germans killed most of her family for saving Jews. I respect their humbly expressed opinions more than the pompous, sterile, conformist musings of a professor speaking down from the invulnerability of an ivory tower.

To put it in terms Einstein would have understood, to enter the heart of a brilliant, feted, Nobel-prize-winning scientist, a particle of faith has to make it into a very high-walled potential well constructed of ego. The odds are on a par with those of a camel passing through the eye of a needle. To steal an analogy from a source I respect a great deal. To stretch the analogy even further, in quantum mechanics, the seemingly impossible becomes possible. And with God all things are possible. However it looks like Einstein did not benefit from that iota--that quantum--of hope.

To me, the odd thing about all this is that Einstein himself laid the groundwork for experiments that seem to demonstrate that observation and belief alter the material world. In other words, his work seems to support the notion that faith has power. I don't remember enough about it to write about it with any degree of competence, unfortunately.

When I see intellectual theories put forward to deny the existence of God, I always think of what Archie Bunker said to Michael "Meathead" Stivic, when Stivic said he had renounced his baptism. "Renounce your belly button! You still got it!" It's pointless to raise arguments in a cerebral vacuum, to convince people of the nonexistence of things they have personally witnessed. Give me a word processor and a week, and I could probably prove I have three arms. Would that make it true?

Render unto Einstein when it comes to science. When it comes to religion, listen to someone who has been there.

Posted by Steve H. at 12:29 PM | Permalink |  

Sorry About That

I am so mad. I drove all the way to the gun range, and it looks like they've changed their rules again. Their sign now says they're closed on Mondays and Tuesdays. I'm completely positive it was Tuesdays and Wednesdays a month ago. It seems like they do this all the time. And checking their website is pointless, since they don't update it.

I got an interesting comment RE prophecy:

With respect to prophets, pardon me for not having a cite, but in the gospels Jesus said that John the Baptist was the last of the prophets. The next true prophets will be the two old testament saints that return to Jerusalem during the first 3.5 years of the tribulation. Anyone who claims to be a prophet during this current church age is at best misguided. That's not to say that God can't or doesn't use dreams to speak to people, but my view is that it would be more for personal revelation and not true revelation of future events.

Naturally, I mentioned the New Testament prophecies. Response:

You're correct Steve, you definitely have to account for the prophetic revelations of John of Patmos. Perhaps the distinction is between the definition of a "prophet" vs. someone whom the Holy Spirit reveals prophetic information to.

I don't think "prophecy" is something Christians have defined all that well. I always thought a prophet was someone who could function pretty much like a P.A. system or a ventriloquist's dummy. The prophet's mouth moves, but God says the words. But having read the book of Numbers and the bulk of the New Testament, I'm inclined to think that "prophet" is a term that can apply to a wide spectrum of people, from Moses, who spoke to God face to face, to Stephen, who died after seeing into heaven. My best guess is, anyone to whom the Holy Spirit gives the ability to perceive things ordinary people can't perceive is a prophet. And if that's true, then there are super-prophets like Moses, above-average prophets like Jeremiah and Zechariah, and so-so prophets who occasionally get a revelation which may or may not be of great importance. So I guess that if you have a few bona fide inspired dreams or visions, you're a prophet. Not the best prophet around, but still, a prophet.

I am among the Christians who believe that the Holy Spirit is being meted out much more generously than it used to be, and that we are supposed to connect to it and be changed and empowered by it. I believe this is what prayer in tongues is all about. I think modern Christians who refuse to admit that this is happening are like divers who want to go down with knots in their air hoses. Doing God's will and fighting on His behalf have always been extremely hard. I don't believe we were ever expected to succeed on our own. If anything, God has made a point of proving we can't do it. The Holy Spirit is the power supply mankind has been lacking.

God is strange. He plants a seed, but doesn't reap the harvest for thousands of years. He established the Jews and allowed them to ruin Israel and be cast out, and He let them turn Israel into a wasteland inhabited by inept, barbaric squatters. He established a powerful Christian church and let it give up on the Holy Spirit and become worldly and weak. And apparently, He plans to bring it all together toward the end of time. Israel restored, the Church reconnected to the power of the Holy Spirit, and so on. You have to wonder. Why not just make us do it right the first time around? Why let Satan get away with so much for so long?

Regrettably, I was not involved in the decision. I don't know why God never asks my advice.

God is always letting us screw up and then giving us the power to fix things. It's a constant pattern.

I sometimes think the story of Samson presages the history of the church. Samson started out strong, because the Spirit of God was in him, and then he was seduced by worldiness and lost his power, and then he was blinded, and in the end he regained his power and destroyed the temple of his enemies, killing them in the process. The church started out full of the power of God, but it became corrupt and full of idolatry and pantheism, and it lost its power and its ability to perceive God's will. And it ended up serving the enemy. And maybe now the power is coming back.

There are other hints, like the bit about releasing foxes to burn the grain of Samson's enemies. Jesus compared people to grain. I suspect the foxes symbolized evangelists, destroying the harvest of the enemy.

I dunno. I always see the world in terms of symbols. For that reason, the Bible has always driven me crazy.

One thing I believe very strongly is that Christians need to get over feeling superior to Jews. I believe Jews missed the boat, with regard to the Messiah. But Christians threw away and even reviled the Holy Spirit, which is probably worse. It's the power to change the world. What we did was like losing the Ark of the Covenant, and the result was pretty much the same. We lost battles we should have won. And a lot of people who feel superior to Jews would have been clamoring for the Crucifixion as loudly as anyone, had they been around to do it.

I can tell you as an eyewitness that the Holy Spirit is still here, and that things that qualify as prophetic events still happen, and I am sure I'm one of many. If I were you, I'd be wary of ignoring what is happening, because to do so is on a par with failing to recognize the Messiah.

I'm not qualified to teach, and I am not fit to be a spiritual leader, but I feel safe in saying that much.

I really will catch up on emails soon. Sorry.

Posted by Steve H. at 6:35 PM | Permalink |  

ISO9000 NOT

Marv is somewhat disappointed in his adoring fans for not asking him questions, so he has gone off on a rant about human intelligence. You can read it here.

I am going to try to get my butt to the range today. I have decided I don't totally trust the first box of ammunition I made, so I'm going to have to make more. I dread taking the first box apart, but I think it's a smart move. I've read about the fun things that happen to people who overcharge their rounds, and I am not interested in destroying a magazine and possibly damaging the gun and my precious self.

One nice thing about shooting with Mike is that we went to an indoor range, so we were able to find and recover almost all our brass, including nearly a hundred precious nickel .38 Super cases. Mike wanted to shoot .38 Super; what can I tell you. In the end he liked the .45 a lot better, and vice-versa. Don't know why. They seem to shoot about the same, from my perspective.

I hope he'll be able to shoot more often. The only thing more fun than shooting with a good friend is shooting with a good friend who shoots really well. Mike was a little rusty, but he would still be in the 95th percentile at Trail Glades.

I want to get into shotguns. When Mike and I were kids we used to go to arcades and wear out the skeet machines, shooting from the hip. I'd love to get proficient with the real thing.

You would think we could go ten days without a new natural disaster, but it looks like it's not going to happen. As I'm sure you know, there was an earthquake in China, and they think it has killed 3,000-5,000 people. It's particularly unfortunate that it happened right on the tail of the Burma cyclone. Ordinarily, a disaster like this earthquake would be big news, but with Burma death-toll estimates ranging up to a million, it will be harder to get the public excited about earthquake donations. I am sure World Vision will be all over this, and here's where you can find them.

While looking up information on China and Burma, I found a moving story on Yahoo! News. Irena Sendler has died at the age of 98. If you don't know who she was, don't feel bad. Neither did I. She was a Polish woman who saved the lives of thousands of Jewish children. She delivered them out of the Warsaw Ghetto. The story is a little sparse, but it says she was arrested by the Nazis, who broke her arms and legs for her troubles.

I will never understand how violent people can take pride in brutalizing the weak. I suppose you can derive a sick sense of accomplishment by harming someone who has the capacity to hurt you. But how can you be proud of breaking an unarmed woman's arms and legs? I think I would vomit for a month.

As for Mrs. Sendler, wouldn't you love to face God with a record like hers? As eternal resumes go, hers is hard to top. Most of us pack our lives with pleasure and goods, and then we die, and it all disappears. Mrs. Sendler packed boxes and suitcases with Jewish children and smuggled them to freedom. And her deeds will live forever, and they will continue to give dividends in the form of the new lives of the descendants of the Jews she saved. There is hope that the rest of us can be as lucky as Mrs. Sendler, or maybe less lucky, but in the same general way. If you send Jews to Israel via the IFCJ's On Wings of Eagles program, the good consequences of your act will continue to flower as long as the world endures. The people you send will have children, and their children will have children, and so on. As charitable donations go, that is a real bargain. Helpful tip: if you specify the country to which you want your donation to go, you'll receive a card identifying the people or person you helped.

Mrs. Sendler's story reminds me of another one. I doubt most people are aware that the physicist Niels Bohr was instrumental in saving around 6,000 Danish Jews. And he was Jewish himself, although I don't think he thought of himself that way. His mother was Jewish, so that made him Jewish, too. If you're not a physicist, that may not mean anything to you, but if you understand how great Bohr's contribution to physics was, it's interesting. Gentiles have done a lot of good work in physics, but for most of the 20th century, you could accurately have referred to physics as a Jewish science. Bohr, Einstein, Teller, von Neumann, Szilard, Meitner...the list is very long. Their work changed the world by giving us nuclear weapons, and sadly, many of them were instrumental in helping the Soviets get the same technology, resulting in the Cold War. So they reshaped the political world at the same time. Mainly in the name of socialism, the primary, seminal exponent of which was a German Jew.

Always at the center of the world. So strange. Scientifically, politically, in matters of religion, and even physically. Check a globe. If Israel isn't at the center of the world's land masses, I don't know what is.

But the Bible is a fairy tale, right?

In related news, via Stand for Israel, Victor Davis Hanson questions Jimmy Carter's bizarre human rights priorities. Don't we all? I would hate to have to explain to God why it was that out of all the people in the Middle East, the Jews were the ones I felt most compelled to criticize and hinder. I guess they'll never be as humane as their progressive neighbors, who are shelling Israeli civilians as I type this.

Pray I don't blow myself up at the range. Or that if I do, I survive long enough to write an amusing blog entry about it.

Posted by Steve H. at 12:09 PM | Permalink |  

Sabbath Ends too Soon

Here is a weird end to my sabbath. I went over to check on Leah Friedman, who has been recovering from respiratory arrest for some time now. Looks like she continues to improve, and she credits prayer, and I know a lot of my readers prayed for her and left comments. I wanted to tell you how much I appreciate you doing this for her. A lot of fine people read this blog. And you enabled me to do something good with it.

While on her blog, I saw this Matisyahu video.

This guy is a Lubavitcher chassid who sings reggae. Go figure. He calls himself a rapper, but he's doing himself a disservice, because he composes his own music, and he sings. It sounds nothing like rap.

I was very impressed. Because I grew up in Miami, my friends were getting me into reggae back before Reagan, and I've heard a lot of stuff. Jimmy Cliff, Peter Tosh, Bob Marley, and so on. And I think this guy beats them all. I wonder if all of his stuff is this good. You can sense the crowd wanting to laugh at him at first, but he bulls his way through and ends up slaying them.

Coincidentally, I read about the Jewish denominations in How Firm a Foundation this week, and Rabbi Eckstein wrote about the chassids. One thing he pointed out, which had not been clear to me before (in spite of knowing a one-time Lubavitcher) was that the chassids are passionate about enjoying life's pleasures and spreading love. So maybe I shouldn't be surprised to hear Lubavitcher reggae.

The sabbath was good. I'm still trying to polish the rough edges off of my sabbath technique, however. I think every week I've learned a little bit more about what Jews go through. This week, I'm learning how it feels for the sabbath to end too soon. I'll bet Jewish readers have been having this feeling since they were born, or since they became observant.

Thinking about observant Jews and dance music, I remember dancing with the rabbis and students at Yeshiva Ohr Somayach, in Jerusalem, in 1984. What a strange night. Maybe the awful beard I had grown gave them the impression that I was Jewish. Who would grow a ratty beard like that if his religion didn't force him? Anyway, I got drawn into a big circle, and a little boy with sidecurls grabbed my leg and made me put him on my shoulders.

Which reminds me of this:

14 But Zion said, The LORD hath forsaken me, and my Lord hath forgotten me.

15 Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb? yea, they may forget, yet will I not forget thee.

16 Behold, I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands; thy walls are continually before me.

17 Thy children shall make haste; thy destroyers and they that made thee waste shall go forth of thee.

18 Lift up thine eyes round about, and behold: all these gather themselves together, and come to thee. As I live, saith the LORD, thou shalt surely clothe thee with them all, as with an ornament, and bind them on thee, as a bride doeth.

19 For thy waste and thy desolate places, and the land of thy destruction, shall even now be too narrow by reason of the inhabitants, and they that swallowed thee up shall be far away.

20 The children which thou shalt have, after thou hast lost the other, shall say again in thine ears, The place is too strait for me: give place to me that I may dwell.

21 Then shalt thou say in thine heart, Who hath begotten me these, seeing I have lost my children, and am desolate, a captive, and removing to and fro? and who hath brought up these? Behold, I was left alone; these, where had they been?

22 Thus saith the Lord GOD, Behold, I will lift up mine hand to the Gentiles, and set up my standard to the people: and they shall bring thy sons in their arms, and thy daughters shall be carried upon their shoulders.

Okay, it says "daughters," not "sons." I realize that. But men and women were segregated. Cut me a little slack. And Isaiah was talking about Gentiles bringing Jews back to Israel, not dancing on Purim. But now we Gentiles are part of that, too.

Whatever the drawbacks of living in this turbulent era are, it is one of the few times since the Crucifixion when people have had the privilege of seeing that they are mentioned in prophecy. That's really something. If I can see myself and others like me in the book of Isaiah, how hard should it be for me to believe that I am also mentioned in the Book of Life?

We are living in a remarkable time of cooperation and understanding between certain Jews and certain Christians. Some beliefs separate us, but in an unprecedented way, we are in agreement about many things. We agree that the Messiah is coming soon. We agree that the Temple will be rebuilt. We agree that all of the prophecy of the Hebrew Bible is true, and some Jews are even willing to concede that bits of the New Testament are true. Such as the part about Christians being grafted onto the root of Judaism.

When the Messianic Age begins, it won't really matter who was wrong or right, will it? Eventually, everyone will agree on the identity of the Messiah. And there is little for us to fight about in the meantime, as far as I can see. So there is no reason why cooperation should not continue and increase. Jews are more cautious about eschatology than Christians are; nonetheless, eschatology is turning out to be a powerful uniting force. And I think it's becoming easier for Jews to tell the difference between the classes of Christians they can trust and the ones they can't.

I learned one more interesting thing today. In the book of Numbers, God Himself describes the difference between Moses and every other prophet who had lived until his time. He spoke to Moses face to face, but He communicated to prophets in dreams and visions. I didn't realize that. I had always assumed prophets opened their mouths, and God's words came out, and that dreams and visions were fairly useless, because they may mean a lot or nothing at all. So maybe there are a lot of people out there who are prophets, yet don't realize it because they discount the things they've seen. Maybe the fact that something happens to you while you're sleeping or drowsing doesn't mean it has no meaning. That gives me pause, when I think about things that have happened to me.

I'm up too late. Talk to you tomorrow.

Posted by Steve H. at 10:44 PM | Permalink |  

I Didn't

I just realized it's Mothers' Day. Usually, Blue Mountain reminds me. I guess I finally took my grandmother and mother off the reminder list. I did not enjoy having unexpected emails remind me that they were gone.

Let me post something my mother loved. I posted it in 2005, and I'm posting it again. It's from the book of Proverbs, verses 31:10-31.

"Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies.
The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her, so that he shall have no need of spoil.
She will do him good and no evil all the days of her life.
She seeketh wool, and flax, and worketh willingly with her hands.
She is like the merchants' ship; she bringeth her food from afar.
She riseth also while it is yet night, and giveth meat to her household, and a portion to her maidens.
She considereth a field, and buyeth it: with the fruit of her hands she planteth a vineyard.
She girdeth her loins with strength, and strengtheneth her arms.
She perceiveth that her merchandise is good: her candle goeth not out by night.
She layeth her hands to the spindle, and her hands hold the distaff.
She stretcheth out her hand to the poor; yea, she reacheth forth her hands to the needy.
She is not afraid of the snow for her household: for all her household are clothed with scarlet.
She maketh herself coverings of tapestry; her clothing is silk and purple.
Her husband is known in the gates, when he sitteth among the elders of the land.
She maketh fine linen, and selleth it; and delivereth girdles unto the merchant.
Strength and honour are her clothing; and she shall rejoice in time to come.
She openeth her mouth with wisdom; and in her tongue is the law of kindness.
She looketh well to the ways of her household, and eateth not the bread of idleness.
Her children arise up, and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her.
Many daughters have done virtuously, but thou excellest them all.
Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain: but a woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised.
Give her of the fruit of her hands; and let her own works praise her in the gates."

Posted by Steve H. at 3:29 PM | Permalink |  

I Must Learn to Have an Original Thought Once in a While

I have started on the book of Numbers. And I have to say, the title is appropriate. There are some parts of the Bible I just skim. I know I will never remember the names of the tribe leaders and how many people were in each tribe. I admire anyone who can memorize things like that.

I feel the need for a break, so I am perusing my weekly Winn-Dixie ad. As you may recall, Winn-Dixie is the Florida supermarket chain which is NOT funding a lawsuit to make it impossible for people to carry arms in their cars. As far as I know. Wish I could say the same of Publix. I haven't shopped there in quite some time.

I was busy with nonsense on Thursday and Friday, so I neglected to check this week's ad. And it breaks my heart, because skirt steak has been on sale. Oh, the ache.

They're also selling boliche (eye round roast) for $2.99 a pound. This stuff is wonderful, if you do what the Cubans do with it. Open a channel down the middle and stuff it with fat and/or sausage. Brown it and put it in a pressure cooker with various stew ingredients. Give it an hour and a half. It will be excellent. I think you could make it better by adding a beef rib (nearly free) to bulk up the sauce.

Boneless pork roast, $1.99 a pound. Be still, my heart. The things I can do with that.

Rib roast, $5.99 a pound! Oh, yes. Get me some of that. The freezer is already full of aged rib eyes, but I can make room for more.

Lots of good stuff today. I better go grab something that cooks up fast and easy, so as to minimize the impact on my Sunday.

I ate a Cherokee Chocolate tomato and a Dr. Wyche's yellow tomato today. I managed to grow them, although they were small and not pretty. The flavor was magnificent. Much better than the heirlooms you get at stores. People keep telling me hybrids are the way to go. Whatever. I may never know, because I can't grow hybrids, either.

I have a new batch of tomato plants going. We'll see how they do. The Dr. Wyche's tomatoes are considerably better than the Kentucky Beefsteaks I grew, so in the future, I guess I'll just try to grow Dr. Wyche's. That offends my national pride as a person born in Kentucky, but I have to call them as I see them.

Mike tells me his plants grow beautifully INDOORS in NEW HAMPSHIRE with ONE HOUR OF SUNLIGHT PER DAY in TWO-GALLON BUCKETS. I am so mad. I gave him the seeds, so I know I could have done this. It's time for me to try. I should have known better than to trust the people who claimed plants had to have all-day sun. I'm going to put two plants indoors, even if I have to throw out furniture. In here, there will be no bugs and no fungus.

Mike and I are a lot alike. Neither of us does anything the orthodox way. I tried to follow the rules, and I got nothing for it. He did everything wrong and has tons of tomatoes. What was I thinking?

See you at the meat counter.

Posted by Steve H. at 3:22 PM | Permalink |  

Seems That Way

Wow, thank goodness the problems in Myanmar are all fixed. That was fast, huh?

Of course, I am being sarcastic. But it seems like this horrible catastrophe--one of the worst in human history, if the numbers are to be believed--is no longer important enough to attract the attention of the American press. I admit, I don't stare at cable news all day, but I do turn it on a few times every day, and what are people talking about? Obama and gas prices. Am I wrong? That's how it seems to me. And Drudgebart.tv.com hasn't updated the Myanmar situation in a while. Google still has it at the top of their page.

I guess Myanmar is like Afghanistan. Just not sexy. Or maybe part of the problem is that Myanmar's bizarre, evil government is obstructing aid and press coverage. I thought Kathleen Blanco was the only governing official in the universe who would turn down aid during a major disaster, but apparently, I was mistaken. I should have remembered the leftist regime in Ethiopia, which created artificial famine by refusing food to citizens who didn't support the government's politics.

They're saying 100,000 people are probably dead because of Cyclone Nargis. I can't grasp the enormity of that figure. Dead bodies are rotting in the sun or clumping together, bloated, in bodies of water. As they did in Thailand and Indonesia. There aren't enough people to bury them. People are dying of starvation and disease and injuries and exposure. And somehow we have time for American Idol, but not Myanmar. Am I getting a warped picture because I never watch network TV? I can't believe this.

After Hurricane Andrew, Miami was on TV every day for weeks. Disaster tourists were a major problem. When I finally got electricity and television back, I saw them on the news, standing through the open moonroofs of cars and minivans, shooting footage of downed houses. Slowing traffic to a crawl. That was bad, but ignoring a disaster is much worse.

Maybe it's not just a human failing. Maybe it's God's judgment. Myanmar has an official policy of eradicating Christianity, and as I understand it, Myanmar's Jews could all fit in a school bus. Perhaps the lack of press coverage is part of the judgment.

It's peculiar that we are no longer allowed to hypothesize that God punishes nations and cities. It happened in the Bible a number of times. Sodom, Gomorrah, Babylon, Shiloh, Egypt, and even Israel as a whole. How many examples do you need? It's not offensive for a Christian to opine that a disaster may have been related to God's anger. It's common sense. If the God of the Bible exists, persecuting Jews or Christians is a very bad idea. So is afflicting the weak. The Torah said that if Israel didn't observe the sabbath and sabbath years, the land would spew the people out and give itself a sabbath. And that's what the land did. Trying to ban Christianity from an entire nation can't be a wise move.

I think about things like that a lot, in connection with my own failings. It's surprising, the list of things you can do to mess up your life. Things that don't spring to mind immediately when you think about sin. Failing to honor your parents. Failing to help the needy. Failing to support ministries. Harming the Jews. Failing to forgive. It's possible to work hard to be good and still do things that cause you problems. Purely from ignorance. And you may be unaware of proactive things you're required to do.

The other day I was watching an IFCJ video, and Rabbi Eckstein said Jews didn't understand how Christians came up with "the Ten Commandments," since the Torah is loaded with other commandments. True, the tablets from Mt. Sinai only contain ten, but there are many others. The Jews count 613. I don't suggest that Christians should obey every part of the Mosaic law, but you can learn a lot about God's desires by reading the Torah. And you can't say you haven't sinned just because you've obeyed the Ten Commandments. If that were true, things like kidnapping and incest would be okay.

On the one hand, I would not be surprised if the government of Myanmar caused this disaster by persecuting Christians. On the other, it's clear that we have a duty to help, now that it has happened. Shouldn't our journalists be doing all they can to provide coverage and keep our attention focused on the suffering? I believe they should. Maybe they are. We can't expect them to risk doing time in Burmese jails.

I know I'm inconsistent, using the term "Burmese," but I can't stomach "Myanmarese."

If you run over to World Vision's site, you'll see a video about their work in Myanmar. Admittedly, they are not being permitted to do much, but they have been there for decades, and they are probably a good bet if you're looking for a charity that will eventually be able to get something done there. Here's a link.

Enjoy your Sunday.

Posted by Steve H. at 1:08 PM | Permalink |  

Sweet

This is beyond belief. I made about 70 bullets.

I only plan to shoot 51 of the ones I've made so far. The first 10-20 taught me how easy it is to screw up the charge, so I've already taken most of them apart, and I'm going to take the rest apart later.

I finally realized that a person as attention-deficient as I am would need a system pretty badly, so I actually sit there and say "casing, bullet, down, up" every time I crank the handle. That makes it pretty hard to miss a step.

The priming problem was caused by crud in the primer slide. I think. It appears that the hole the primers pop through isn't quite perfectly round, so I may remedy that myself. I also adjusted the rod that determines how far back the primer slide goes. I had a few misfeeds, but things went okay.

I hosed the inside of the feed tube with Hornady One Shot, and I put a piece of a coat hanger on top of the primers to gently make sure they were seated down in the press. Some people leave a brass rod on top of the stack of primers permanently, to push them down the tube.

I mentioned priming primerless rounds earlier. I guess I was having a low blood sugar moment. Two commenters have pointed out that this is not a bright idea, and I agree. When I get a primed case with no charge, I run it through again, but I won't prime a case that has a charge in it.

Powder is all over the place. When a primer fails to feed, powder flies. When I take a bullet apart, powder flies. I guess it's unavoidable.

I truly hope I don't blow up my beautiful SW1911 with a double charge. I can't see how that could happen. I was very careful. Now that I've actually made ammunition, I can see the danger, so I'm definitely going to get a doodad to monitor the charges. I can't weigh the rounds after I make them, because the cases vary in weight. I think the Dillon powder checker is the best bet. It's electronic, so it yells at you when you make a mistake.

Thanks again for all the help.

Posted by Steve H. at 8:50 PM | Permalink |  

No Primers

I am now firmly convinced that the reloading press came with a complimentary curse.

Today I stuck the new pistol rotor on it, adjusted it a few times, and got it to work to within +/- 0.1 grains. I nearly wet myself.

I put the decapping and sizing die back in (it was out because it would have removed the primer from the case I used to weigh charges), and I ran a case through. And the ram got stuck halfway down. What the hell? After adjusting the pawls over and over?

Turns out the pawls may have been okay. The decapping die may have caused my problem. If you fail to knock a primer all the way out, it will obstruct the motion of the shell plate. So it's just like having a hinky pawl. I'm not sure what the story is. I'm fairly certain the shell plate stuck when I had no cases in it, which wouldn't happen if the decapping die was the problem.

Anyway, I somehow managed to ram a casing into the sizing die in a way that the press didn't pull it back down. And guess what? Removing a case from a sizing die without a press to help you is surprisingly hard. I bought some Imperial sizing wax, but I'm not using it yet. It tastes very nice, however.

I got everything going again, adjusted the die, and started making bullets. I thought. When I checked the first two, they had no primers. Everything is working except the priming thing. And I can't find anything in the manual about "Why your new bullets have no primers." That wonderful manual, that the smug reloading mystics said was so complete. I don't see anything in there about primers obstructing the shell plate, either. I guess I'm the first person it ever happened to, in the history of progressive presses.

I used the right punch. I put 25 primers in the tube, facing the right way. The shell plate appears to be indexing correctly over the punch.

Guess I'll figure it out later. I assume it's okay to prime the primerless rounds once I figure it out.

Hope to be shooting on Monday.

Posted by Steve H. at 6:07 PM | Permalink |  

Mr. Articulate One Step Closer to Oval Office

Looks like poor Mrs. Clinton is in trouble for saying white people like her. Oddly, the trouble has not amounted to much. Perhaps that's because, at this point, what happens to her is about as significant as what happens to Chris Dodd.

Someone needs to make a 3 a.m. call. And they need to say "Go back to sleep."

I'm surprised that, as the wife of a black man, Mrs. C hasn't been more popular among black people. It must be that "black man's Kryptonite" thing. White women take all the successful black men. Clarence Thomas. Worf. Okay, I can't think of all that many. But couldn't Hillary have let a sister have the first black President?

Maybe Mrs. C needs to pay a visit to Black People Love Us and find out what she's doing wrong. Maybe blacks are mad at her because she gave up on that cool African-American accent she was working on a while back. I was totally down with that. I was hoping she'd get herself some dreads and start drinking Pepsi.

Where would Pepsi be today without black people? White people only drink it when they have no choice. You know. You get to the picnic late, and there's that warm bottle of Pepsi, rolling around in the melting ice at the bottom of the cooler.

Pepsi and menthol cigarettes. That's what Hillary needs. If she could only learn to scat with a Kool in her hand.

I think the point of Black People Love Us is to help white people understand that no matter how hard we try to become black, we will never quite make it. With one exception. And his luck didn't rub off on his wife.

Like Bill Cosby used to say, "Rat own, rat own."

Not sure how that's relevant to anything.

Busy day today. Marv may manage to blog.

Posted by Steve H. at 11:26 AM | Permalink |  

Bullets!

Annoyed as I am by the documentation that accompanied my Hornady reloading press, I am all about giving credit where credit is due. So let me compliment their customer service, which, like Dillon's, enjoys a sublime reputation.

I bought a bunch of Hornady crap, qualifying me for a huge pile of free bullets. Attention-deficient freak that I am, I screwed up the paperwork qualifying me for the promotion. You're supposed to send the UPC (bar code) label from every product you bought, and I had a whole pile of products. And I managed to leave the UPC code for the biggest item--the press--out of the envelope.

I'm always this way with paperwork. It's the only thing I hated about litigation. Courts are brutally picayune and unreasonable in their requirements regarding the niceties of paperwork. I think this is because they let their clericals, who have never endured the stress of law practice, make the rules. So sometimes you'll find yourself with three or more piles of paperwork, all different. One for the court, one for you, one for the opponent, and God knows what else. And the court may have a long list of very bothersome, unjustifiable rules concerning where to put the staples and what kind of paper to use and so on. And you usually have to Xerox a certificate of service and a final signature for each instrument, and you have to put the original signed versions on one set of documents for the court. But to put them on the other documents, you have to remember to remove the blank ones that came out when you printed everything.

By the end of the day, if you're not ready to blow your brains out, you are a very special person. You are probably a totally uncreative, highly responsible person who always knows where his car keys are. If you're like me, however, you will climb the walls.

So it was a certainty that I would screw up the Hornady order.

I called them after I found the missing UPC stuck between the sheets of a yellow pad. I told them the deal, and they said they had so many orders to deal with, they'd probably ship my whole package back and have me do it over. Okay, not ideal. But acceptable, given the fact that it was my fault.

Today UPS came by. And the poor guy delivering the stuff looked like he was carrying a black hole in a box. I went out on the porch and picked it up. Forty-eight pounds of lead and copper. Hornady gave me every one of the 1400 bullets I applied for. I guess they couldn't bring themselves to make me do the whole thing over again. I may never have to buy .45 ammunition again.

I just opened the box. They're so pretty. It's my understanding that these are not the most wonderful defensive rounds, because people have found that the expansion is not great. But they're FREE.

I also received my pistol rotor and micrometer, a bunch of tiddly little replacement parts, and a very expensive can of Hornady One Shot to degrease things. It will probably be Saturday evening before I can use any of it.

I had a bunch of crap to do today, but I'm taking a breather. Not sure how next week is going to pan out. I may be able to blog a fair amount, and I may not.

While on my break, I watched a DVR'd Tred Barta episode. I am really starting to like this guy. It's embarrassing, but I am. Maybe it's because he shares some of the irritating traits I possess and mistakenly think other people find charming and admirable. He's constantly yammering about his opinions while waving his right fist. "The conservation groups are buying up all the hunting land!" "The liberal press is running down our kids!" "We're just not kicking hippies enough!"

Okay, that last one was mine.

Today he shot a giant moose from fifteen feet with a bow. Luckily for him, it ran in the other direction. Then it wandered into a freezing pond and keeled over. The rest of the show was dedicated to the process of removing half-ton-plus mooses from remote ponds, using a canoe and a chainsaw. It took him and the guide a day and a half. For what? A pile of rapidly aging, unbled moose meat. Can you even eat that stuff?

I felt bad for the moose. I'm pro-hunting and so on, but this animal had an arrow completely through its lungs, and it ran a long way before it fell. I still think that when you hunt for sport, your primary consideration should be a fast, clean kill.

So far, out of all the hunting people I've seen on TV, this is the only guy I think I'd enjoy hunting or fishing with. I guess that's a bad sign. I'd definitely want to part ways with him an hour after the boat docked or the hunt was over, to do Barta detox in preparation for the next day, but I think the fishing or hunting would be a lot of fun.

Guess I'll get back to the grind. After fondling my bullets again.

Posted by Steve H. at 6:11 PM | Permalink |