I've been stirrin' shit elsewhere

So your example is right on target to show the need for a representative democracy. But where is the need for the electoral college?

Its foundation was based on the concept that local people would only vote for local candidates as it was impossible for one cadidate to present their views to all voters (back when this all started, it is just a little different today) and was a means of preventing one local with a large number of voters from constantly electing the "local hero".

Additionally, it was setup to try to protect us from political parties (that did not work) and it has been modified to a point where it now helps protect the two party system that we currently have - this is supported by statements from supporters of the Electoral College.

If we are truely a "Representative Democracy" then our representatives, including the President, should be elected by those they will be representing not by the electoral college.

Mike

It's the part of representative democracy where "winner take all" applies to the allocating of delegates and representatives that we should not dissolve. This preserves (somewhat) geographic political distinctions and representation thereof.

Example: There are surely some treehuggin', bleeding heart commie rat bastards in Kentucky and they are concentrated in Lexington, Louisville, and Frankfort near colleges and universities, however most of the state is good God fearin' redneck. As such this state should be represented by those beholden (theoretically) to the rednecks hereabouts for votes and not the pantywaist girlytypes in town. We don't want to proportion the block lest the useless cityfolk vote here gets combined with the useless cityfolk vote everywhere else to create a national representative power block of these no good critters when within most smaller geographic political boundaries (states) they are the minority. There is no homgenous "American" culture, much as "progressives" (socialists) would like us all to believe other than the hive dwellers.
Edit/Delete Message

Man Down

I just got word a rider on the GPZ1100 email list went down after a cager ran a stop sign in front of him. This man is an accomplished rider with mucho miles and time in the saddle. Seems he was able to get the impact velocity down to a glancing blow but it still broke his pelvis when he finally hit the ground. As bad as that is, I submit the following from the notification email:

Fortunately he was wearing full gear including his riding pants and has
no road rash anywhere, something which apparently surprised the
emergency room attendants who are used to seeing the Harley guys come in
looking looking like a freshly skinned deer (or ungulate for Mr. Mason).

Prayers for a speedy recovery are appreciated.

Be safe out there fellas. Wear your gear and watch them sons-a-bitches. That goes double for you MM and DJ.

Montana: No Alligators Allowed

By KRISTI ALBERTSON The Daily Inter Lake


Boys reel in 5-foot, 60-pound alligator in Kalispell pond
Some birthdays stand out as exceptionally memorable; 16 and 21 usually make the list.

Josh Bryant will never forget his 11th birthday, when he came nose to snout with a 5-foot alligator in Kalispell.

On Monday afternoon, Josh and his mother, Lynn, were trying out the new fishing pole she’d given him for his birthday. The Shady Lane fishing pond near the old Steel Bridge, where he spends three or four days a week during the summer, seemed the perfect place to test the rod.

*
It was about 4 p.m. when Lynn Bryant spotted something swimming toward them.

“I thought it was a muskrat,” she said.

Then she took a closer look. Muskrats didn’t swim with just their eyes and back ridges sticking out of the water.

The Bryants couldn’t believe their eyes, but there was no doubt the animal swimming toward them was an alligator. Bryant moved to the edge of the dock and started taking pictures with her camera phone, knowing no one would believe them otherwise.

At first the alligator was almost friendly, she said, but they still wanted to get it out of the water so someone could come take care of it. A friend grabbed Josh’s pole and tried to hook the gator. He succeeded a few times, but each time the alligator simply swallowed the lure.

A few more would-be fishermen showed up soon after. One of them had a stronger pole; he, too, tried to catch the alligator but once again it swallowed the proffered minnow, hook and all.

By this time, onlookers had called friends and soon a crowd of about 50 people had gathered. Some simply watched. Others tried to help subdue the alligator, which was now agitated.

“This thing was very aggressive,” Bryant said.

“It was snapping at us kids and adults,” Josh added.

Someone brought a bow and shot it. They knew the alligator had been hit because the arrow was sticking straight up, Josh said. Then the arrow — and the alligator — disappeared for almost an hour. Suspense mounted on the banks of the pond.

“It was like a serial killer movie or something, a killer alligator,” Josh said.

The gator didn’t stay down for good, though. When it surfaced, the crowd was ready.

“His dad jumped in the water,” Josh said, pointing at his friend, Kaynen McGuire.

McGuire, 11, nodded. His father had plunged in the water with a stick, grabbed the alligator by the tail and swung it onto the bank.

“This was right out of ‘Crocodile Dundee,’ I swear,” Bryant said.

Four men held it down and tied its jaws shut with fish stringer, then put it in a canoe and dragged it up to the road. Someone produced a knife and tried to slit the animal’s throat. Still it didn’t die.

Wouldn't you like to be able to tell that tale?
"Yeah I grapped that ol' gator by the tail, pitched his ornery ass up on the bank, but he wouldn't settle down. I ended up havin' to cut his throat. Damned shame, too, he woulda looked good in my goldfish pond..."

Go There. See That.

This right here.

This is why anyone dumb enough to want to buy a Harley should have his/her (chick bikes remember?) motorcycle endorsement revoked.

Note the pussy sayin', "They're gonna beat our asses." Been watchin' Orange County Hospital ???

Vacations are Hard

and Sailing's hard work.

So, I got out the genoa yesterday. Man, that's a powerful sail!

We were hummin' along on Green River Lake waiting for the wind to pick up just enjoying a 3 to 4 MPH port tack after we came around this point, I came about and all of the sudden the wind just grew, and grew, and GREW. Before I realized what was going on we were heeled over 30 degrees and Mrs. JAC was asking if I wanted her to release the genoa halyard. I was just startin' to have fun so I said, "What for? We're OK."

Wrong answer. Man we were really hummin', too.
I finally noticed Mrs. JAC was white knuckled and pale so I brought her in a little closer to the wind until the main started flapping just a bit on the upper luff and eased up on the traveler to let the main spill some air. I just all but released the jib sheet and it popped out like a parachute in front of us. The boat quicly righted and .....

"Man, we were really cookin'! You alright?"

"No. That's it. I'm done. No more sailing for me." And I got the waving index finger.



Wanted:
Sailboat crewmembers.
Hard work. Low pay. Bad food. Free beer.
Hours of relaxation.
Occasional intervals of boredom punctuated by moments of sheer terror.
Apply within.

Gone Sailing

Back by ?

And You Thought They Were Just Pretty Horses...

I started a poll over on KLR650.net to take a poke at some of the yankees there and this fella popped up from the Netherlands.

Location: Amsterdam NL
Posts: 241
Rep Power: 3


Besides forcing the US civil war on me at school way back, I was forced to watch "North & South" every week by the Wifey last Century too...

Much obliged Mmam..... I use to tell her

But I still think the whole idea sucks....We have the Friezian people in the North that claim to have their own language, laws and intrest in autonomy too.....just cant grasp the concept of being "different" or "better" from the rest....

So, I did a little research 'cause the only Friesians I know have feathers on their feet. (Yes, I know that you know what 'feathers' are, SB.) Imagine my surprise.

From Wikipedia:

Friesland distinguishes itself from the other eleven Dutch provinces through having its own language, which is also spoken in a minor part of the province of Groningen, to the east. Closely related languages, East Frisian ("Seeltersk", which is different from "East Frisian (Ostfriesisch)", a collection of Low German dialects of East Frisia) and North Frisian, are spoken in the Saterland and in North Friesland areas in Germany, respectively.

The English language is also closely related to Frisian. There is a saying about it: "As milk is to cheese, are English and Frise."

Another version of this saying reads (in Frisian): "Bûter, brea, en griene tsiis; wa't dat net sizze kin, is gjin oprjochte Fries", which in English reads: "Butter, bread and green cheese, whoever can't say that is no real Frise". The saying plays on the sound differences between the Dutch and Frisian words for "butter, bread and green cheese", which in Frisian are pronounced almost identically to their English counterparts (showing the original closeness between the two languages), while in Dutch ("Boter, brood en groene kaas"), these words sound quite different.
Frisian cattle
Enlarge
Frisian cattle

Friesland is mainly an agricultural province. The famous black and white Friesian cattle and the well known black Friesian horse originated here. Tourism, mainly on the lakes in the south west of the province, and on the islands in the Wadden Sea in the north, is an important source of income, too.

The province is also famous for its speed skaters, and also for the Elfstedentocht (Eleven cities tour), a 200 kilometres ice skating tour.

Another interesting feature are the many windmills. There are 195 windmills in the province of Friesland, from a total of about 1200 in the entire country.

Friesland was the first to acknowledge the independence of America's Thirteen Colonies from the United Kingdom.

Even the Brits are Going Wobbly

It's Summertime. It's hot. Woe is me...

This year has so far been the fourth warmest summer on record,

beaten only by 1976, 1995 and 2003.

I know reporters thrive on crisis reporting, but damn! It was hotter just three years ago. What a bunch of greasy haired, crooked toothed, unwashed, body pierced pansies. Let 'em spend July in Memphis. Pussies.

The Harvest Begins: Tomato Faves

Turns out EP and I have kinda the same idea when enjoying our fresh picked yummy garden tomatos. Here's my take:

Halve, pit, and skin one ripe avocado. For those who don't know - an avocado is ripe when it is soft. I like to be able to readily depress the skin about an 1/8". Those green ones at the store probably aren't ready. To skin it use a tablespoon (after halving and pitting) worked up between the skin and the meat. Place both halves in the bottom of a salad bowl with the little depression the pit left facing up.

Cut a tomato or two into small wedges. Red ripe here boys, not orange or grainy. Place them into the bowl. Salt 'em.

Chop up some of your favorite onions. I use red and green. Go easy here; you can overdo the onions. Put 'em in the bowl.

EP adds cucumbers here and skips the avocado. Nothing complements a tomato like an avocado; once he tries it he'll love it. I ain't putin' cucumbers in mine - wrong texture or somethin'. blech!

Get some good italian dressing and slather it all over the place. EP uses his mom's homemade stuff and I bet it's damned fine.

Now, for the adventurous among ya'; crumble some feta cheese over the whole mess. and dig in.

I try to get a pice of avacado with every tomato wedge, there is just something about those two things together.

MMMM-mmm-MMMM!

From MM's place:

I just love the Cherry and Grape tomatoes. For breakfast, I take a handful and slice them up and saute them with a little basil, fresh-ground black pepper and some olive oil. Then I take them out, and use them as filling for an omelette. Good stuff. I just need to figure out a nice, exotic spicy sausage to put in there too.

Tomato Trouble

Why the hell are my tomatos bursting on the vine? This is the second year I have had this problem; the darn things crack open before they are even ripe. They seal themselves up with a kind of scab and go right on to ripeness. I still get a good (if somewhat assymetrical) tomato, but it's pissin' me off.

Well?

*Update*

Res-solution:

2 possible causes:

1. not enough calcium in the soil. We’ve learned to fix this by saving our egg shells, drying them and crunching them up and planting a couple of tablespoons full in the hole at planting time.

2. I’m not sure the exact cause but dissolving 2 tbl spoons of Epson salts in a qt of water and pouring it at the base of the plant seems to help. We do this once every 4 weeks from the time they are planted.

I’d try the Epson salt remedy right away and keep the egg shell idea in mind for next year.
Res Ipsa Edit comment Delete comment | Email | Homepage | 07.17.06 - 2:27 pm | #

P.S. Warm water seems to work best.

Bucket Tomatos!

JACmail

From Billiam:

Jac, was looking at maybe getting a sport touring bike. What do you think about the Yamaha FJR 1300? I'm going to test ride one next week. Also, I have a Z1R helmet, but the venting stinks. What helmet has decent venting. One of my pals says HJC, another Scorpion. Thoughts? Thanks,
Billiam

The new FJR (2006) is a great bike. The old one is just as good but with some niggling heat on rider issues. Keep in mind that it is still a big heavy bike and even though it will haul ass, it takes a lot to get it to turn in the tighter twisties. Your pectorals will be sore from yankin' it around, but it'll do what you forcefully tell it to. A friend I ride with has one and really enjoys it. The storage is great, the ride is great, the seating position is a little upright but not overly so, the pegs are in the right place, it's gorgeous, the windshield is adjustable so you can get some air if you want. The motor seems electric - there's power everywhere and it sounds like a turbine. It will shit and git.

Skip the factory top-case for 700 bucks. Givi makes one everyone uses for 300.

I use a flip-up helmet by KBC that is designed to be used with the chinbar closed or open. It is a very high quality helmet. I've had it over a year now and will replace it with another just like it someday. Bargains are on ebay. No other is designed to be used while riding with the chinbar up. I don't use it like that much, but it is nice when you want some air. The wife has a less expensive Vega flip-up she really likes.

Nobody makes better helmets than Arai and Shoei. If ya' got the clams look at them. The HJC's receive high ratings consistently. Stay away from the HJC Symax; it falls apart. I have never owned a nonflip-up helmet I can recommend. Welldigger has a Suomy he really likes. To me the only way to get enough air into a helmet is to open the visor. Make sure you get one with a removable liner system so you can take it out and wash it.

Good Luck, and let me know how it goes.

Ride Safe,

JACIII

It's the Rider. Not the Bike.

Finally a demographic that is even less cool than dualsporters.

High bandwidth warning. Belly laugh warning.

Note: It's the same color as EP's bike so it's almost exactly like it.

How europeans fight:

Here

Translation

Frog: "I love you. I hug you!"
Wog: "Stop that! My boyfriend will see."
Frog: "Your boyfroend likes girls."
Wog: "You smart off to me?"
Frog: "Yes"
Wog:"I push you! I push you really, really, hard!"
Frog: "Oh yes? Well, I fall down and cry!"

SwampThing Doing its Thang

I didn't set any records or scrape the pegs (kinda hard to do on knobbies), but I think SwampThing looks right content.


See Here!

The Hunter or The Hunted

In all things living there are Predators and there are prey. The distinction between the two is self evident to even the most educated and obtuse among us. Instinctively we categorize the living world in this way. You can tell which should be classified Predator and which should be classified prey. And don't bother me with any reverse psychology psychobabble bullshit. It is what it is. Occams razor.
Call it:

Tale of The Dragon – Sunday at Deals Gap

318 curves in 11 miles. Good ridin'. Good company. Good roads. Good weather.


Friday. A spur of the moment trip, Rainman and I put out feelers to all riders (I use the term loosely). Frank can't go this time as he is prepping his bike for sale to trade down for a harley and shopping for golf clubs. Lots of probables, a few definites, and one, “Hell, yes” with a broken bike. I figured Rainman and me. There was a chance for the BrokeBike, but social events were precluding work on it, so I held it in the “doubtful” column. I swapped out SwampThing's countershaft sprocket for a bigger one to better cope with the Super Slab riding, changed the oil, lubed the chain, lubed the cables, kicked the tires, and gathered my gear for ATGATT (All The Gear, All The Time).


Saturday. Call from BrokeBike. The thing won't make 70mph, but he's ridin' it over and we put it in the barn. How much trouble can a spittin' and coughin' 800cc v-twin Suzuki Marauder be? Lots.

I figure on cleanin' the carb real quick and good to go. Sheeit. Two carbs and a fuel pump on this thing. All we left on it was the motor and tires getting' to the damn things and it has more emissions shit than a 1973 Vega. Well, we got it done and fired it up for a test ride. Pretty peppy for a 800cc cruiser. Handles like a barge.

Me and Boots (can't call him BrokeBike anymore) are chewin' the fat about the ride when I notice he has no front tire. It's worn past the wear bars and strangely enough, more worn on the right side. Oh shit. I didn't make much of an issue of it 'cause I didn't want him worried (confidence count's for a lot on motorcycles) and I knew hell nor high water was keepin' him from ridin' Sunday. At least there were no cords showing through.


Sunday. We met at 8:00 for breakfast off I75 at Boonesboro, Ky. Rainman only ate two breakfasts – must be on a diet. The usual wakeup calls were made to slackers and momma's boys. Boots showed. Ed showed.


The Crew:

Rainman – Draws water like a sponge. If he's ridin' it's rainin'.


Boots – I call him this 'cause he wears tennis shoes and high-water pants for gear. I nag to no avail.


Ed – One of the few I have seen get into ridin' with any sense to the way he went about it. Bought a sport-tourer (FJR 1300) and took the MSF course. Rides safe, smooth, and with a clear head. Excellent riding companion as I insist on being the twisted one in any group.


Me – Y'all know me.



We headed down I75 toward Knoxville runnin a steady 70 to 75 mph (I'm worried about Boots' front tire) with only occasional bursts of speed to negotiate traffic. Ed only flexed the FJR once. Remarkable self control.


We followed along Lake Fonrtaine before climbing onto The Dragon and I pulled us off for a quick stop to give Ed some last minute advice and drained my bladder (always a good thing if there's a chance of impact injury). It was Ed's first time on the worlds twistiest road and words simply cannot convey the truth of it. Everyone has to see for themselves. I waited about five minutes to let some harleys that went by get way ahead so they wouldn't hold me up and headed out.

I had been wanting to try a KLR on the Dragon as ease of maneuverability counts for more than power on a road this tight. What a hoot! I quicly settled into about the same corner entrance speed as I had managed on Big Red, but with a larger safety factor due to the light handling of the bike. I cheated and stuck a foot down to catch SwampThing when that last little knobby gave way. Good thing, too.




I stopped at the overlook (about 20 curves in) and waited on the crew. Ed's cherry was broke and we needed to give him (and us) time to settle into this type of ridin' after 150 miles of interstate. Ed overcooked the first really tight corner but had left a large safety factor, per my advice, and owing to skill and a clear head made out fine. How many fellas ya' know actually TAKE advice?


Rolling Road Blocks


The harleys were out in force. Lots of old, fat, blowguts holdin' up the rest of the world runnin' 10 mph with a deathgrip on the bars. I can't think of a good way to describe the feeling of being behind these assholes on The Dragon. They need to go spalsh in the kiddie pool; they got no business in the big water.

I used to think, “live and let live” toward 'em, but I'm thinkin' that The Dragon is as close to hallowed ground as a street rider is gonna roll a tire on and buzzin' and beepin' 'em all the way down the road might discourage a few of the fat fucks from returning. It's for their own good – it keeps me from killin' 'em.

The typical harley rider will roar away from The Overlook or maybe even do a burnout, but once he gets to the first curve he becomes a loud, stinky, annoying, rolling road block. Like a tractor on the highway, folks pile up behind 'em 10 or 15 deep waiting for them to pull over and let 'em around. They don't pull over, and I have a theory about this. They “know” harleys are powerful and fast so they figure if they are ridin' on the edge of their and their bikes abillity everyone behind 'em is struggling just to keep up. Until they get passed by a dirtbike. On knobbies.

After passing one his pride damned near got the best of him and caused him to wreck. I would have been forever proud if it had. That's not as bad as it sounds; Tennessee has a helmet law and he's not gonna get hurt (bad) in a 5mph get-off unless his elephant falls on him. According to Boots and Rainman, after I passed him he gunned it in an attempt to keep pace, but overcooked the very next corner and damned near ran off the road. I guess it hurt his pride to have a dirtbike blow by him. Good. Just hang out at Hooters and leave the chrome pig in the parking lot where it belongs.


The Dragon


The roadway was clean and dry and there were plenty of interesting bikes from all over the country and Canada. A kickstart Bonneville was riding with a new Magic Button Bonneville and there were several Triumph sportbikes and ST's. A sprinkling of Ducati's, a smattering of Aprillia's, and the usual horde of Japanese sportbikes. There were quite a few sidecars evident. “Hacks” to the cognoscenti. There were a lot of BMW's about, but mostly the new 1200's and I didn't see any interesting older models. Bummer. The weather was glorious and the company was grand. There are some harley/cruiser riders who have enough miles under their belts and are such characters that their company almost makes up for their posing brethren. (There's your disclaimer, BrandX.)


Heading Home

We rode The Dragon northward. I ran the fellas through a campground called Pumpkin Center that is oriented to motorcyclists with cabins (bunkhouses) for rent and covered pavilions for the bikes, a huge grill, a smoker, and a Honda GL1000 fountain. Possibilities.


SwampThing and I only took a couple of offroad shortcuts to torment my riding partners, but it had the desired effect.


In all I had 12 hours in the saddle off and on and 500 miles on the clock when I returned home with daylight left to burn. What more can you ask for?

Women Spoil Everything, Don't They Girls?

I got a question for the riders.

Would you drive a new beetle? I don't mean for a kick, but for your own personal transport. I thought not. It's for chicks, right? No red-blooded man would ever opt for this. No OEM flower pots for me. You? I thought not.

Well, this day is coming. Sooner than you think:

You and the boys are out and about, stretchin' your legs on your big, chromed out rides, Harleys, Metric Cruisers, maybe even a Phat Tire Custom or two, and pull in to the roadhouse to grab some chow. Have a beer. Make the waitress blush.
Folks inside heard you pull up. Loud Pips Save Lives, right? You catch some of the gals eyeballin' your bike. They love it.

Dinner is served up hot and rare, the beer is ice cold and goes down good. The girls in the next table are eavesdropping on the conversation and exchanging looks. Can't be a bad thing. While waiting for the check you and the boys talk a little shop. Compare and contrast the bikes you've ridden, review the lastest “chopper” show episode. And as often as not there is a new bike on the market that has everyone abuzz. Some of the boys dig it, some not so much. One fella starts really panning it – he doesn't like it at all.

“Man, it's 2006! I can't believe Supertough Choppers would build a bike without fuel injection. I quit fuckin' with chokes when I got my RoadKing in 2003 and never looked back.”

“Gawd, but it's a hoss though, man. I mean a 1900cc motor and a 300 tire..... Sweet.”

About that time the mid 40's woman with the pageboy haircut, sittin' with the ladies in the table next to you interrupts, “Excuse me. I couldn't help overhearing; is a choke that thingy on the side you pull on when you start your motorcycle?”

“Why yes, Darlin', it is! Does your man ride?”

“No, but I was just going to say my 2005 Supertough Chopper doesn't have one of those pull out things.”




You ride a cruiser, you're just one of the girls.

Traveling Light - The Waffle Stomp!

Get on over to Nate's Peep Paradise and read about our preferred method of dealin' with stinky, grimey, clothes on the road. Pay attention, MM, it comes in real handy.

The post may not be up yet so keep checkin'.

Spacebunny, I can hear you sayin', 'Ick!, Boys are weird.' already.

The PanGalactic Blogger Blaster is on Display

At Darlin' Joy's blog. Hurry! Go see!

While Queeners Drink From the World's Cup .....

The Kentucky Kid tows two others onto the Assen podium and pulls away in the MotoGP Championship!



What men are left in europe will be watching The Kid (delayed telecast) run off the track in the final turn battling the Texas Tornado Colin Edwards to win in Holland.

Wanna see the worlds greatest riders at play? Nicky is wearin' the repsol gear and the #3 bike is Max Biaggi. Pay particular attention to Nicky gearing down with the back tire in the air preparing for a corner. SuperMoto Madness!