Notable Quotable:

Notable Quotable:

Remember, folks: whenever a woman says "die for me because you are a man," just look her in the eye and say "my body, my choice."

Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Please Help Me

A Voice for Men has put up a petition to have Judge Lori B. Jackson impeached.
Please follow the link to and sign it.  We have half of the signatures needed.


Here's the article at AVfM:


Those two abused, frightened and betrayed, children MUST be kept safe!  Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Monday, September 24, 2012


It’s official.  I’m a card carrying radical activist now.  I drove to West Virginia today, to rattle a cage and poke a tiger with a stick.  I distributed more than one hundred flyers that asked:  “What is going on in the family court of Judge Lori B. Jackson, and why is she putting children in the hands of a known abuser?”

My husband drove because A) he had the day off, and B) he was a little concerned about the potential for trouble.  The poor guy wasn’t out of the car for more than a few minutes of a twelve hour day!  (Yes, he’s my hero…)

It was a four-hour trip each way, but the weather was beautiful and the leaves are beginning to turn in the mountains, so it was like a scenic Sunday drive, only a day late.  We looped through Bridgeport, Clarksburg and Shinnston, and we brought the camera and the digital voice recorder in case of confrontations.  Fortunately there were no negative encounters, possibly in part because I moved too fast to bother with the camera.  (And really I was OK with that; I didn’t want to stand out so I wore dull, unflattering clothes, no make-up, and I plastered “The Hair” down flat.)

Not many stores had community bulletin boards, but a few gas station clerks let me tape flyers to walls or leave them on the front counters.  I handed most of the flyers directly to people in parking lots, saying, “I’m publicizing a local child abuse case, may I give you this?  There’s a website at the bottom.”  (My husband followed closely in the car, just in case a quick exit became necessary.)  The responses were overwhelmingly positive, and only two people turned me down; I didn’t argue.  One gentleman, not knowing the specifics of this particular case, said he nearly lost a granddaughter to abuse.  “They keep putting those kids with the wrong parents!”  No kidding.

I posted several flyers in the public library, and then went over to the TV station (WBOY 12news) and the newspaper (Exponent Telegram.)   I told them they might want a heads-up because they’d likely be hearing from the public.  I spoke only to a receptionist at the TV station, but at the paper a reporter brought me to his boss; her eyes lit up and she said, “We’ll definitely look into this!”  Time will tell if she meant, “Oh boy, this is going to be juicy!” or, “Uh oh, I’d better call Lori!” 

I kept thinking I could reach more people by walking down the main streets wearing a sandwich board (not entirely out of the question in the future, but don’t tell my husband just yet, M’kay?)  However, it’s fair to say that my mission was a success; a whole lot more people know about the Kirk case today, than knew yesterday.  I can’t control the outcome, but maybe I helped protect a couple of children today.  And I hope I ended a corrupt judge’s career.

Sunday, September 23, 2012

"I Wish John Lennon Were Alive to Read this Essay."

That title was a comment from Brendan, on this post:
(From A Voice for Men, naturally)

The New Nigger

"I see an entire class of people who can be harmed by a member of a privileged class and there is no help for them. They can be legally abused and everyone looks the other way. There are those members of the lower class who try to make themselves as useful to their superiors as possible or keep their heads down unless spoken to and then he’d better say what ever pleases his superior, that is the safest way to behave."

Rock on, Nurdy, Rock on!

Saturday, September 22, 2012

My First BlogShoot

We toddled over to West Virginia for our first range day since before Lance Criminal was born, and attended a Wounded Warrior Project fundraiser.  I support them anyway, so that was this week's donation.  It was pretty cool, although we had chores to do so we didn't stay for the lunch.  I met some of my favorite gunbloggers, and three of my guns are in dire need of a thorough cleaning!  I also know where I'll go for my concealed carry permit class and more training.  WolfAlpha and I blasted away for about two hours before my back said, "Are you kidding me?  What's with all this percussion?"

I even hit two perfect bulls-eyes, both with the .357 Magnum.  Once with the hammer cocked, and once one handed.  I have no idea how - 'cos that sucker is heavy!

I'm all ready for a shower now because I'm gritty and speckled with minuscule mild powder burns.  Oh, and WolfAlpha got a bit of brass down his collar, a gift from the gal next to us.  If I hadn't been there, I'd be demanding to know who gave him that hickie!

A bangity good day!

The Economics of Female Promiscuity

M3 has a crystal clear post up, illustrating why sluts make lousy wives.

"I don’t know about you, but i wouldn’t fucking hire a woman who’s had 43 different jobs in the last 2 years and is sitting in front of me at the desk saying they hope to be a lifer at my company."

 If your plan is to be a "partner" in a "stable venture," you might want to consider acquiring the appropriate "training."  If you perfect the art of being a free agent, expect to remain a free agent.

Thursday, September 20, 2012


Not All Women Are Like That.  I know, ladies, I know.  Granted, the vast majority of NAWALTs are far too old to have much influence on the future.  They were shouted down fifty years ago, and have gracefully accepted the fact that they are hopelessly outdated and uncool.  In fact, they're fine with being uncool; their immediate worlds are shrinking every time they read the obituary page, but their immediate worlds still make sense.

Some of you, however, are still quite young.  How you have managed to see the (wo)man behind the curtain, or indeed, how you ever even wondered if she might exist, is beyond me.  When I was your age I was an oblivious introvert who just didn't "get" much of anything.  I did follow the herd a bit, not because I wanted to be where they were going, but because it never occurred to me that there was a different way.  I got so lucky.  When I met my husband I was wavering between two drunks, and I cringed at the thought that sooner or later one of them would ask me to marry him.  Since I didn't want to be married to either of them, I finally had to ask myself why the hell I was wasting my time with them.  And then I met the real deal, and I kept him.  I could have scored a wealthy "Beta Provider/Sucker," but the ones who grovelled at my feet were too Beta.  (And back then such men were plentiful; I was pretty, but hardly beautiful.)  I didn't realize it then, but I needed a man who could lead me, with a gentle, patient hand.  An Alpha Beta, or maybe a Beta Alpha.

But this isn't about me, it's about you.

I'm sorry.  I apologize for the world my generation has given you.  I also apologize to your male peers, but there's a sad, sad irony here: those of your male peers who "get it" are pissed off, and rightfully so.  But they actually have more options than you do.  They can walk away, and they can handle the criticism they will face for it.  They've been criticized their entire lives.  They're used to it, and they haven't let it destroy them.  The ugly truth is, they will do better without you than you will do without them.  You, on the other hand, are Women.  Your girlfriends are women.  Your coworkers are women.  Your emotional support networks are women.  If you thumb your noses at them, they will eviscerate you, and you haven't been taught to be tough enough to take it.  A few of you have learned on your own how to have thick skin, and I freely admit I am in awe of you; I never understood other women, so I didn't get very close to many of them, but I always thought there was something wrong with me, not them.  Please take my advice: Escape.  Make a clean break.  Most of those women don't understand you and they either despise you or fear you.  They have nothing to offer you except a wet blanket and a knife in your back.

Again, I'm sorry.  I'm sorry that you have been led to believe that you can borrow the price of two houses and spend four, six, or maybe eight years in college studying something fun and easy, and then graduate into an interesting middle class career.
Incidentally, read this book!!!

...To be fair, that might actually happen for a small minority of you, but chances are, many of those fun and easy careers are going to disappear in another decade or so.  They produce little or nothing  and our economy can no longer afford them.  Educational institutions, K-post grad,  will shrink, and those non-teaching "teachers" already in the field will have first dibs on the remaining jobs.  HR departments will shrink as work forces shrink, and as employers look harder to find places to cut costs.  Non-profits will shrink as government grants shrink, so your grant-application-writing skills will be useless.  Municipal, state and federal clerical jobs will disappear or be cut to part-time/no benefits.  I'm not sorry that you will have to work for you pay, because real work builds character and gives satisfaction.  You might well end up happier, if poorer, than your elders.  But I am sorry that we have deceived you.  We told you it would be easy, because for us it was easy, but then we used up all the resources a long time ago and we've been borrowing from you for decades.  (Who am I kidding?  We've been borrowing from ME for decades!)

I'm sorry that we told you you'll be happy and fulfilled without a husband and children; only a few of you actually will.  I'm sorry that nobody taught you how to become the kind of woman a good man would want to marry.  We didn't teach you how to cook, manage a household, manage money, manage your desires, or mind your tongues.  We didn't teach you how to sacrifice, for your husband, for your children, or for your own future.  We've been telling you all your lives that you can have it all, right now, but we didn't tell you how to earn it.  I'm also sorry we told you that you could be an outstanding career woman, wife and mother, all at the same time.  You can't.  Something always has to give, and it's usually the breadwinner childcare-assistant household-helper husband, and ultimately the children.

You're on your own.  If you're lucky enough to find and marry a good man, do not listen to your female friends' subtle hints that maybe you could do better.  You probably can't, and the government will have a lot less money to give you and your kids between husbands.  If you do find a marriageable AND MARRIAGE-MINDED man, you're going to have to do more than just show up.  You're going to have to prove yourself worthy.  Reliable.  Responsible.  Loyal.  Compassionate.  Feminine.  You will not have the future you've been promised; you will have the future you earn.  You might even end up happy.

If any of the above ramblings make the least bit of sense to you, then there's a good chance you really aren't Like That.  Good luck to you as you re-invent the wheel, figuring out what your great grandmothers always knew.  I admire your grit, and once again, I'm sorry.

Anonymous Letter

Hah! And Water is Wet

When I left D.C, I was irritated with the Air Gestapo because they made me go back and check my bag; I was carrying too many 3 oz.bottles of liquids.  Yeah, who's surprised.

Then Dad sent me home with his all-but-unused CPAP machine because I have apnea and he hates the cursed thing.  So I went to check it in at Ticketing, and an airline employee noticed that it was a medical device.  He told me it doesn't count as carry-on, and to go ahead and take it on the plane.  He also carried my suitcase full of shopping loot (and a ton of embroidery floss that Mom no longer uses - woo-hoo!) over to the X-ray machine.  At the security checkpoint, an agent stopped me because she had to "pat down" the back of my head.  Yes, apparently I have enough hair to hide a bomb.  She had the good grace to say, "Nope, nothing but curls!"

The Minneapolis Air Gestapo is much more agreeable than the Washington D.C Airport Gestapo.  (Then again, Minnesota folks are still generally quite decent, so maybe it rubs off.)

It's good to be home.

Wednesday, September 19, 2012

Heading Home

These past ten days I have been in the Frozen North helping the parental units with a (relatively) mild health crisis.  Now past eighty and all but lacking hips, Mom finally had to give up on her walker-with-a-seat and acquire a motorized scooter.  Boy that Medicare is something else!  I don't begrudge any disabled octogenarian a pair of wheels, but here's a hint about how corrupt our "healthcare system" is:  I am 48 years old and I have never owned a car that cost as much as the "price" of that scooter.  Suffice it to say that the vast majority of our "healthcare" dollars, are not being used to provide healthcare.  They are being used to line the pockets of people who are not helpless.  I'm coming closer and closer to the conclusion that "Tear it down and rebuild it," might be this country's only hope.

Tomorrow I fly home to my endlessly patient husband and my dumb old dog and cats.  I miss them all, but I've enjoyed my "vacation."  I've taken some long walks, spent an afternoon shopping, pulled a few weeds, and mostly just hung out, trying to take the housework burden off of Dad.  I've been able to keep up blog reading fairly well, but haven't had the time for a lot of commenting.

My "To Do" list awaits, and I hope it includes a blogshoot this weekend.  I'll also be distributing copies of my "Anonymous Letter" post, and getting organized to do some volunteer work for A Voice for Men.  And I need to find a paying job.  Ooh! Ooh! Ooh!  I almost forgot!  It's also about time to put together a color scheme for the master bedroom!  I know what I want; I just have to figure out how to do it.

Thanks to the comments on that post (ranging from brilliantly insightful to pathetically obtuse) I have plenty of blog fodder, so I'll be expanding on several of those points.  And man am I looking forward to it!

Friday, September 14, 2012


This is an addendum to my last post.  Please follow the link to the AVfM article; if you do nothing else, listen to the audio recording of a person Judge Lori B. Jackson thinks is a fit parent.


Wednesday, September 12, 2012

A Plea to Military and Mil-Support Bloggers

Please please PLEASE help publicize this story from Harrison County, West Virginia.  This judge MUST NOT be allowed to make decisions "in the interests of" any more children!

Before you read this, take your blood pressure meds or have a stiff drink:

"Child abuse from the bench


(this title is not an exaggeration.)

Sunday, September 9, 2012

Dealing With Real Life

I won't be on line much for the next week or so.  Sad face.  Places to go, people to see...yeah, not that exciting, but stuff that needs my attention.

Thursday, September 6, 2012

Truth from Spootville

Tim at Spootville, posted a good graphic, but I'm going to take it a step further:

It's not so much "Liberal Logic," as it is Liberal gullibility.  Greed really is behind it all, but liberals seem to trust the government to spent their cut more "fairly" than those "Eeevil Capitalists" do.  This is "Washington Logic," and too many liberals buy into the "I'm an expert; trust me to know what's best." ethos of self proclaimed specialists and "Ed-u-ca-tors."

Not that the NeoCons are any better.  They naively trust their own (Churchian) greedy "Leaders."

Congress is pretty happy with constituents who never think things through.  So are the (greedy) people who write the laws and policies for Congress.

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Um, Pax, There's Something You Neglected to Mention...

Pax, the world's coolest Down Under Mil-Support blogger, occasionally posts pictures of adorable (and not-so-adorable) critters.  You've been holding out on us, dear.
From Uncle Jay, via DaddyBear:

Uncle Jay:

Monday, September 3, 2012

Anonymous Letter

Two notes about this post:
1. I don't presume to speak for my son, but he's no dummy.
2. This was supposed to be short enough to print several copies, so I could "drop" a few in strategic locations around a nearby college campus.  But you know me!  Some days I just can't shut up.  My husband thanks you in advance for your sympathy.


A letter to a future daughter-in-law, possibly my own:

A few years from now, you’re probably going to want to marry my son.  Perhaps you already do; he’s kind of hot and his potential is quite obvious, if I do say so myself.  He’s only 20, handsome and well-built, and when he lets his hair grow long, it’s thick and wavy.  He has his father’s beautiful eyes, and my dimples look much better on him than they ever did on me.  He’s also a U.S. Marine; he has finished his deployment and doesn’t expect to go overseas again, so he’s preparing to begin earning college credits.   I don’t hover, so I’m not sure which major he’s chosen – engineering or actuarial science.  He surfs, rides a motorcycle and a mountain bike, hikes, and maintains a classic car.  Pretty much everybody likes him or loves him, and respects him.  Girls hit on him regularly.

I’ll be surprised if he ever marries though.  You see, his plan is to wait until he’s at least thirty, therefore he will spend the next decade meeting, dating, working with, and probably sleeping with, the product of 60 years of American feminism.  I’m pretty sure he won’t find many women worth considering for marriage.  How about we look at it from his perspective, m’kay?  Here’s what he sees:

Half of you have been raised without your fathers, yet only a few of your fathers deserved to be kicked out of your lives; you were raised by the women who kicked your fathers out, and perhaps a string of stepdads and “uncles.”  And those women, your mothers, taught you their values by example.  Not an auspicious start.  Most of the rest of you were raised by fathers who knew damn well that if they displeased your mothers, they too could be kicked out of your lives according to your mothers’ whims.  They knew full well who had the REAL power in the family; they quietly accepted that “mother knows best.”

You were raised in a culture that permits, even encourages, women and girls to always push for more.  Not necessarily to do more or earn more, but to demand more and to expect more.  You were punished far less severely for your transgressions than were your male peers.  Indeed your female peers egged you on to be even naughtier, and to be defiant about it.  It’s Grrrl Power, after all!  The boys of your acquaintance were expected to give in to your shenanigans and your shit tests, and those who didn’t were labeled “problem children” and medicated.  A boy’s best bet was to shut up and grovel, and maybe win your approval.  They sure weren’t allowed to go around offending the Special Snowflakes now, were they? 

You were raised in a Disney Princess Culture, where every girl is entitled to her Prince Charming.  And if she can’t find one, she has the Grrrl Power to kiss any old frog and transform him into a Prince.  You were raised to be a slut, at least through your twenties.  Go to College.  Establish a Career.  Don’t get married until your late twenties or early thirties, but DO NOT, under any circumstances, repress your sexuality.  Your foremothers fought hard for your right to be promiscuous with no consequences;  don’t you dare let their efforts go to waste.  And since you’re not looking for a husband, there’s no need to sleep with only “good” men, is there?  ‘Cuz badboyz are hawt!  And nice guys are boring.  Additionally, you have plenty of time to ride the best cocks you can find; thanks to modern medicine, you can get pregnant after menopause if you want, so there’s no hurry.  You are expected to waste your youth and your beauty on hot guys who treat you like shit, then give your leftovers to the guy you’ll promise to love, honor and cherish for the rest of your life.  Wow, how lucky is he!

My son looks around and he sees bitchy, arrogant, malicious women.  He sees spoiled greedy women.  He sees financially irresponsible women.  He sees lazy undisciplined women.  (Yes, even in the military; they had to lower the standards so more women could “serve.”)  He sees overweight women wearing unflattering clothes that display muffin tops and rolls of fat, who drool over his biceps while telling him that “looks aren’t important.”  He sees slutty women who dress to attract men, sleep with the “hot” ones, and denigrate the rest by calling them “creepy.”  He sees “competitive” professional women, whose primary tool for getting ahead is the threat of sexual harassment lawsuits. He sees demanding women who expect men to bow and scrape for the privilege of a smile.  He sees utterly irrational women whose “self-esteem ” is obscenely disproportionate to their proven worth.  He sees women who expect romantic dates and expensive gifts, yet have absolutely nothing of value to contribute to a relationship.  He sees women who flirt with their hopeful, geeky JustFriends, barely enough to keep them on a string while simultaneously panting after Alpha Hotties, then run crying back to those JustFriends after being pumped and dumped by said Hotties, “Oh, why can’t more men be nice like you?”  (Answer: if they were, no woman would fuck them.)
Look around you ladies.  You see the very same women, don’t you?  Most of you are these women.  You think this is normal and acceptable, because “everybody does it.”  It’s not.
There’s something you should know about my son and his peers.  They’re not gay, they’re not lazy, they’re not stupid, they’re not unambitious, and they’re not weak. They’ve merely figured you out.  They know you don’t give a rat’s ass about them, and you see them as nothing but providers and fantasy sex objects.  They are wise to the game and they’re done playing by your rules.  

They have the same job titles as you and they take home the same pay, but they work longer hours and they do harder work; they know that their productivity is why employers can afford to hire you to sit at a desk and shuffle papers.   They know that if two drunken people have sex and both regret it in the morning, only one of them is a “rapist.”  They know that “My Body/My Choice” actually means"My Body/My Choice/Your Wallet."  They know that the minute they sign a marriage license, everything they own is yours, but nothing you own is theirs (except your debts) and you can walk away with cash and prizes, at any time, for any reason.  Or for no reason at all. 

They’re calling Bullshit.

A few years from now, you’ll begin asking yourself, “Where have all the good men gone?”  You’ll look down your noses at all those guys playing video games and living like frat boys in cheap apartments, and you’ll know that they could do “so much better” for themselves.  You’ll shake your heads in wonder at their “immaturity,” or their “wasted potential.”  Here’s a little secret.  (Yep.  A few men are immature and weak – they’ve had the masculinity abused or medicated out of them by their single mothers and grandmothers) but most of them? 

They no longer give a rat’s ass about YOU. 

That’s right.  They don’t need to work hard and earn a good living.  They have no intention of fathering and supporting any children, and no desire whatsoever earn your approval.  You go buy your own four bedroom colonial in just the right subdivision!  That’s what Grrrl Power is for, isn’t it?  Many of these men will go so far as to quit their jobs as soon as they begin to “earn a good living.”  They don’t want to earn enough money to pay taxes.  They don’t want to pay the salaries of millions of useless (and mostly female) government employees, and they don’t want to pay for the personal choices of “Empowered Women.” They refuse to feed your Beast.  And you, and your church, and your government can’t cajole them or shame them into giving a shit.  Men are dropping out, Ladies.  Chivalry has died of blunt force trauma, in a beatdown administered by Grrrl Power.  Your mothers, your grandmothers, your schools, your family courts, your sociology professors, have all spent the last two generations telling men that they are unnecessary and unwelcome.  And now they’re leaving.  (Oh sure, they’ll be glad to fuck you while you’re young and hot, aaaand then they’ll move on to younger and hotter sluts.)
This is the gift that feminism has given to you – Independence.  Scary, lonely, bitter, potentially impoverished Independence.  For yourselves and for any children you may have.   Most of you won’t blame feminism though; you’ll blame Male Privilege (which doesn’t exist.)  You’ll blame The Patriarchy (which always gave women a far better deal than it gave men.)  You will stamp your feet, flip your hair, and blame anything except the single cultural force that has devoted itself to suppressing and controlling masculinity.  And you’ll go home alone every night to your cats, your Facebook Friends, and your vibrator.  I sure hope that’s what you want.

                                                                                                   A Mom

Sunday, September 2, 2012

Victory and Progress at AVfM

"Your lies have had their time. Their disgusting legacy is written in the lives of shattered men, in broken families and in hobbled boys who never had a chance to stand as men. But that time is passing."

Paul Elam
A Voice for Men

Saturday, September 1, 2012