This will be the first edition of the Qatari 2600 (I keep trying to get away from that name, but I really like it) from my gmail (that’s Google e-mail) account. My quest for financial independance continues. Kia has been added to my list of conquered obstacles; next paycheck should take care of my 401k deployment catch-up. Also, I just received a letter from A Company; apparently, my old Ops Sergeant is “no longer with the company”, and I’m ready to be processed for per diem (about $1,500 worth, by guesstimate). Coincidence? Kevin and I spent the weekend studying Modern Arnis at a seminar with Remy Presas, Jr. Guro Presas was very personable, and we had a great time–although we have both decided that Modern Arnis is not our style. It appears to specialize in stick-grappling, or utilizing the traditional Filipino baston (a rattan rod) as a lever to increase the torque* of joint manipulation techniques. I was so bruised, blistered, and exhausted by Sunday night that I had to call in sick from work–admittedly, rather than going straight to bed, I stayed up with Kevin and watched an entire season of Babylon 5. I hope to start attending different seminars regularly. I think that I’ve finally gotten my sleeping schedule straightened out, and I may be contacting GM Folkes in the near future about resuming classes with him.
My kicks suck now.
We’ve got a bunch of summer temps working overnights at MBS, and I am achieving sort of a cult status: I’m that guy who can do anything. All the lost books, all the computer questions, all the machinery they can’t drive… it all comes to me. It’s kind of funny, because Kevin (Meyers) was never trained as a troubleshooter before he became the shift manager, so he didn’t retain the position. But now that I’m back, I’m working as one, anyway.
The other night I came into the middle of a conversation between my friend, Jay (the night security guard at MBS) and another employee, in which the other employee was stating that he could understand rifles for hunting and home defense, but that he didn’t think that handguns should be legal. This is how the conversation went:
Me: Well, what about carjackings? You’ll never be able to bring a rifle to bear inside an automobile.
Him: Well, if he’s not trying to kill me, I don’t need to stop him. He can take whatever property he wants.
Me: How can you assume that a person who would steal your car with you in it isn’t going to try to kill you?
Him: I’m prepared to die.
Me: That’s all well and good, but if he kills you in the commission of another felony, odds are good he’ll kill someone else. If you have the chance to stop him and don’t attempt to, then you are an accessory to his future killings.
Him: It’s not my place to stop murderers.
Me: It’s not your place to track down murderers. But if you wouldn’t prevent a murder when you have the opportunity, then you condone murder. And if you condone murder, then you are evil, and have no business judging other people’s legal and ethical decisions. Like gun ownership.
(sigh). I never make any friends.
I’ll be catching War of the Worlds and The Fantastic Four this weekend, so be prepared for a diatribe if they’re crap. Oh, and apparently Mike has something in the works for the Band of the Rattan. Business dealings; it’s all very mysterious and exciting. I can’t wait to get the skinny on Sunday.
Until next time!
*or, “tork” if you are the mechanic who destroyed my oilpan in Louisiana.