Moral-Flexibility.Net

I’ve never really owned a purpose made “range bag”. For the longest time I used my “duty bag” as a range bag, and while adequate it was hardly optimal (partitioned inside for seperating paperwork, not gunstuff). When I returned to driving for a living I commandered the duty bag for its original purpose and ended up using a variety of other bags around the house to lug my range gear to and from.

This was hardly perfect either. I decided I needed a range bag, something that would be tough enough not to self destruct carrying accoutrements and ammo, something that would fit all the odds and sods comfortably and something that I could use expressly for this purpose so it would be ready to go on a moments notice and I wouldn’t have to waste energy racing around trying to gather everything together.

Dimensions: 18″ (46cm) Length x 12″ (30cm) Width x 8″ (20cm) Height

As luck would have it, a week ago, on the way to the range I found that K-W Surplus had Tactical Assault Commando Cases (or, in truth, black canvas tool bags) for $20. Space seemed adequate, construction seemed rugged, it seemed almost perfect, and it was cheap. Excellent!

Continue Reading »

Les Jones has put up a poll asking “What’s the greatest car chase in movie history?“. Swing on by and make your voice heard.

[I voted for the Blues Brothers, but that was more for the scope of the chase, Bullitt remains the movie that pops to mind when someone says “car chase”]

We haven’t really had a Jillian update in a while, so to bring the rest of you up to speed here’s the Coles Notes version.

Vocab is increasing by leaps and bounds, we’ve progressed well beyond the word “Zombie” here, Jilly mastered “Ayy-arrr Fiteen” some time back. Structure and comprehension advancing well too, still the “terrible twos” frustration when she cannot express herself properly, but I think the progress is amazing.

Toilet training? We’re still working on it, the concept seems to register but we’re having trouble seperating the legitimate efforts to use the toilet and the “I want Mommy and Daddy to pay undivided attention to me” episodes.

That’s it for now. Do you believe she’s two and a half already?

In the process of getting ZoneMinder to work properly on my Ubuntu computer I’ve installed and reinstalled both several times. It seems Ubuntu is really not the best Linux distribution for Zoneminder according to the support forums. It will work, but it will take some effort.

I’m pleased to say that this most recent attempt functions as it should, and I’ve yet to see any problems. To save myself the effort next time around I figured I’d record the installation procedure that worked for me. I know most readers don’t care about this, so the instructions are below the cut.

Continue Reading »

The first shotgun I purchased was brand new. I purchased it while trapped in Lever Arms waiting for my friend Patrick to authorize, pay for and complete the transfer of a pistol he was keen on acquiring. Patrick was my ride home you see. Anyway, long story short the Mossbergs were on sale and I grabbed one while standing around admiring the boomsticks.

This was early on in my hoplophile days and I was firmly convinced that the Mossberg deserved every bell, whistle and attachment I could dig up for it. And on they went, one after another, until the value of the accessories actually exceeded the purchase price of the shotgun itself.

Continue Reading »

My range trip yesterday was definately far from optimal.

I forgot my spotting scope and brought two rifles I knew had to have their sights slightly adjusted (the AR15 and the VZ58), the range was unusually busy (likely because I showed up at noon instead of my usual 10:00am time) and the best I could do was a stall on the 100 yard line.

Waiting for a target change I took the rifles out of the hard case, set out the magazines and began to load them. Czech surplus ammo for the VZ58, and Winchester for the AR. Problems noticed immediately, some sort of jam in my 30/5 mag for the AR, follower jams after 3 rounds pushed in. Strange. I take a sticker (kept in my toolkit for this sort of thing) and mark the mag for follow-up when I get home.

After the target change I slam a mag into the AR, smack the bolt catch and then peer into the action to see why the round has failed to chamber properly. Remove mag, cycle action, peer into chamber, peer into mag, reinsert mag, hit bolt catch and again peer into chamber. Same problem.

Meh?

There I am peering into the rifle wondering what went wrong when the grizzled old shooter beside me comes over and says “Does that rifle normally take 762?”, getting my back up a little I make ready with a sarcastic reply when I realize, HOLY CRAP, he’s right.

You see, I am a retard. When I was pulling ammo out of storage at home I decided to shoot my one-offs to leave a more consistent assortment of ammo (I have several hundred rounds of 762×39mm Czech surplus, but I also had 40 rounds of Norinco 762×39mm and 1 box of Winchester 762×39mm). I’d become so used to “dull grey/green casing = 762×39mm” and “shiny brass casing = .223″ that I had infact been jamming 762 into my AR mags (which explains the capacity issues somewhat).

I suspect there’s some lesson in complacency here. Maybe a lesson in the importance of caffeine as well.

[Edited to add: I forgot my digital camera for this trip as well so no pics of the targets for my doubters. At 100 yards the rounds were on paper, grouped well but off center for both rifles. I replaced my old “Aeroflot” range bag with an uber-tactical assault range bag and failed to include everything when I left the house. Pics of the new range bag, along with a write-up will be forthcoming when it comes back from my tailor with the patches added.]

My brother is in the final stages of getting his CCW down in Texas.

This is an option I do not have up here in the great white north, and I’m starting to resent it.

Saturday night I was working my usual twelve hour night shift, oodles of extra patrols assigned for a few townhouse complexes primarily occupied by university students (end of exams, who knew there would be parties?) and the usual attendant chaos as alcohol overwhelms common sense. Amidst this fun the boss (who came out for the festivities) asks if I mind covering a short notice book off at a mall in the morning, the deal sweetened by offering to pay me the twelve hours I would miss the following night for working 8 during the day.

Mercenary sensibilities overwhelm my own common sense, and like an idiot I accept reporting to a mall after a 5 hour turn around, 150 minutes sleep and almost a full coffee (a good portion spilled in a near miss accident on the way to the mall where a motorist exited a parking lot in front of yours truly without benefit of slowing, checking for traffic or indicating).

8 hours of playing mall-cop (or Mall Ninja if you prefer). I’ve always hated working malls. Hours of standing, walking, answering questions (that I’ve no idea what the answers are because I’m unfamiliar with the mall, the neighborhood and the city) and herding teenagers high on sugar from the building. The only thing recorded in my note book is the notation “Rent-a-cop:” with 13 hash marks beside it, a banner day (thats roughly 1.5 rent-a-cop jeers an hour).

By the end of the shift I am well and truly brain fried, exhausted, bored, irritated and my internal clock is screaming in protest. I conclude that I am no longer 20 years old, my body no longer handles sleep-dep and short turnarounds as well as it used to, and I swear (like the guy suffering from a world class hangover) “never again”.

Why do this? Because I walk away with full pay, and get an extra day off as a result of not having to waste my first day off re-adjusting to dayshift from night. I am, in celebration of yesterdays irritation, going to pack some boomsticks into the car and head to the range today.