" . . . suggesting that weapons from the failed gun-tracking operation have now made it into the hands of violent drug cartels deep inside Mexico . . . "
Ya think??
STORMBRINGER SENDS
Sunday, July 7, 2013
FAST & FURIOUS RAISES ITs UGLY HEAD AGAIN
Police chief killed with rifle lost in ATF gun-tracking program
" . . . suggesting that weapons from the failed gun-tracking operation have now made it into the hands of violent drug cartels deep inside Mexico . . . "
Ya think??
STORMBRINGER SENDS
" . . . suggesting that weapons from the failed gun-tracking operation have now made it into the hands of violent drug cartels deep inside Mexico . . . "
Ya think??
STORMBRINGER SENDS
Saturday, July 6, 2013
THIRD CULTURE KIDS
I first became aware of the term "Third Culture Kid" back in '75 or '76 from Mr. Roger Welty, a charismatic teacher at the International School Bangkok. More recently I saw an article about us TCK's on an embassy bulletin board in Maurtiania, of all places -S.L.
The worst question you can ask a TCK is "Where are you from?" When I get asked that, I either have to tell my life story in ten seconds or less - and they think I'm lying - or lie, and say something like "San Francisco". Sooner or later, somebody is going to say, "Oh really? I'm from San Francisco. Where'd you go to high school?" and they're back to thinking you're a liar.
This is where it started.
I was born in Melbourne, Australia. When I was six months old, my parents immigrated to the States. My Dad was a mechanical engineer, he came over to work on the gantries for Project Mercury, up in Seattle, Washington. He parked my Mother, big brother & myself up in Vancouver, British Columbia and commuted until he could work something out to get us in legally. I actually have very early memories from when we lived in Berkeley, California, but my first real memories are of Palembang, Sumatra.
In an earlier post about my father I described some memories of Palembang.
. . . my brothers and I grew up overseas and lived the amazing ex-pat lifestyle; an education no school can provide. I still remember when I was six, in Indonesia - my dad built a classic, clinker-hulled dinghy with a mast and lateen-rigged sail and a 1.5 horsepower Seagull outboard. The sail was hand sewn from old rice sacks and the spars were bamboo. I remember Dad taking me up the river, and I remember the banks of that river lined with crocodiles basking in the sun. We stopped and visited a native village; bamboo longhouses up on stilts. It was a scene right out of a Conrad novel (even though I didn't know it at the time). By the time I was a teenager I'd had adventures most kids cannot even imagine.
We lived in Indonesia for about three years and evacuated during the Emergency in 1964.
At that time we went down to Australia and lived in Sydney - which to this day I think is the most beautiful city in the world. I started school at Bondi Elementary. Already nobody could understand me and I couldn't figure that place out - which became a major theme of my academic experience.
After a year, Dad finished up in Sumatra and we went over to the States on a Holland-America line ship, the S.S. Ryndam
S.S. Ryndam
We lived in Alameda, California, in the Bay Area, for about three years. I had to re-do kindergarten because I couldn't hack it in first grade. Then Dad got another overseas contract - overseas is where the real money is for engineers - and so we packed off for Bangladesh, which in those days was East Pakistan. Confused yet?
So Where's Home? A Film About Third Culture Kid Identity from Adrian Bautista on Vimeo.
Life in Bangladesh was hard. As a kid I saw abject poverty, the likes of which you simply cannot imagine unless you have seen it for yourself. The slums and the shanty towns were nothing - they had people living in huge drainage pipes stacked up in open lots because the money for the drainage scheme had been embezzeled away; which meant the place flooded during the monsoon season, and the sewerage from the open sewer ditches on the sides of the road made sure everybody got cholera.
Bangladesh is a giant river delta of the Ganges and the Brahmaputra Rivers. There is little or no rock there, so there were gangs of sari-clad women squatting all day on piles of bricks, smashing them up with ballpeen hammers, to make aggregate for concrete. These poor wretches wore thick rubber tubes on their fingers to protect themselves, and some of them carried babies in the folds of their ragged, threadbare saris.
Life is good for this fellow. When we lived in Bangladesh, the rickshaw drivers were so poor they wore loincloths and they could have been extras for a film about POW camps - they were practically walking skeletons.
In 1970 the civil war came as Bangladesh broke away from Pakistan. We made our move to Bangkok, Thailand and things were so much better there, we kids thought we'd died and gone to heaven.
My alma mater.
ISB is the best high school in the world. We had the best teachers, the best students, the most incredible environment. My favorite teacher was Mrs. Augusta Gatti, my Latin teacher. She was a strict disciplinarian we nicknamed "Mussolini" - but never to her face. Mrs. Gatti taught us the history of the Roman Empire, and made Stoicism real for us.
TCKs pick up languages like most people catch colds, which is understandable, but more intriguing is that we switch between accents, often inadvertantly. Because of all the American exposure I do not speak with an Australian accent, but I do use a lot of Australian slang. My accent is not American, either, although I do have a lot of Southernisms in there from all my military time, which was spent mostly in the South. I speak Thai, of course. I studied Spanish for six years and am halfway decent at it, Latin for three years and can't remember a word. But when I got down to Africa I picked up French and I can speak it like I'm breathing air.
I graduated ISB in 1977 and hung around until 1979, I loved the place so much. When I walked across the stage at ISB and received my HS Diploma, it was the equal of a Bachelor's Degree in any university in the world. The lessons I learned there have followed me my entire life, on six continents.
To this day I consider Bangkok my home town. I went back to Thailand with the Army, multiple tours of duty 1988-1992, but I only went back to Bangkok once; the place had changed, my friends were all gone and it broke my heart to be there. I visited Roger Welty and Mrs. Gatti, and recently learned through Facebook that she is still there, incredibly, retiring in a year or two.
After Bangkok I went back to Melbourne to complete the circle. Spent a year there, and a year in Sydney, then came over to the States to be with my family, who'd rotated back from Thailand. Of course, everywhere I go I fit in like a square peg in a round hole, so the Army was the place for me. When I got to Fort Benning, Day One of Basic Training, I finally found where I belonged.
We are different than all the others . . . only another TCK will ever understand . . .
STORMBRINGER SENDS
The worst question you can ask a TCK is "Where are you from?" When I get asked that, I either have to tell my life story in ten seconds or less - and they think I'm lying - or lie, and say something like "San Francisco". Sooner or later, somebody is going to say, "Oh really? I'm from San Francisco. Where'd you go to high school?" and they're back to thinking you're a liar.
I was born in Melbourne, Australia. When I was six months old, my parents immigrated to the States. My Dad was a mechanical engineer, he came over to work on the gantries for Project Mercury, up in Seattle, Washington. He parked my Mother, big brother & myself up in Vancouver, British Columbia and commuted until he could work something out to get us in legally. I actually have very early memories from when we lived in Berkeley, California, but my first real memories are of Palembang, Sumatra.
In an earlier post about my father I described some memories of Palembang.
. . . my brothers and I grew up overseas and lived the amazing ex-pat lifestyle; an education no school can provide. I still remember when I was six, in Indonesia - my dad built a classic, clinker-hulled dinghy with a mast and lateen-rigged sail and a 1.5 horsepower Seagull outboard. The sail was hand sewn from old rice sacks and the spars were bamboo. I remember Dad taking me up the river, and I remember the banks of that river lined with crocodiles basking in the sun. We stopped and visited a native village; bamboo longhouses up on stilts. It was a scene right out of a Conrad novel (even though I didn't know it at the time). By the time I was a teenager I'd had adventures most kids cannot even imagine.
We lived in Indonesia for about three years and evacuated during the Emergency in 1964.
At that time we went down to Australia and lived in Sydney - which to this day I think is the most beautiful city in the world. I started school at Bondi Elementary. Already nobody could understand me and I couldn't figure that place out - which became a major theme of my academic experience.
After a year, Dad finished up in Sumatra and we went over to the States on a Holland-America line ship, the S.S. Ryndam
S.S. RyndamWe lived in Alameda, California, in the Bay Area, for about three years. I had to re-do kindergarten because I couldn't hack it in first grade. Then Dad got another overseas contract - overseas is where the real money is for engineers - and so we packed off for Bangladesh, which in those days was East Pakistan. Confused yet?
So Where's Home? A Film About Third Culture Kid Identity from Adrian Bautista on Vimeo.
Life in Bangladesh was hard. As a kid I saw abject poverty, the likes of which you simply cannot imagine unless you have seen it for yourself. The slums and the shanty towns were nothing - they had people living in huge drainage pipes stacked up in open lots because the money for the drainage scheme had been embezzeled away; which meant the place flooded during the monsoon season, and the sewerage from the open sewer ditches on the sides of the road made sure everybody got cholera.
Bangladesh is a giant river delta of the Ganges and the Brahmaputra Rivers. There is little or no rock there, so there were gangs of sari-clad women squatting all day on piles of bricks, smashing them up with ballpeen hammers, to make aggregate for concrete. These poor wretches wore thick rubber tubes on their fingers to protect themselves, and some of them carried babies in the folds of their ragged, threadbare saris.
In 1970 the civil war came as Bangladesh broke away from Pakistan. We made our move to Bangkok, Thailand and things were so much better there, we kids thought we'd died and gone to heaven.
My alma mater.ISB is the best high school in the world. We had the best teachers, the best students, the most incredible environment. My favorite teacher was Mrs. Augusta Gatti, my Latin teacher. She was a strict disciplinarian we nicknamed "Mussolini" - but never to her face. Mrs. Gatti taught us the history of the Roman Empire, and made Stoicism real for us.
TCKs pick up languages like most people catch colds, which is understandable, but more intriguing is that we switch between accents, often inadvertantly. Because of all the American exposure I do not speak with an Australian accent, but I do use a lot of Australian slang. My accent is not American, either, although I do have a lot of Southernisms in there from all my military time, which was spent mostly in the South. I speak Thai, of course. I studied Spanish for six years and am halfway decent at it, Latin for three years and can't remember a word. But when I got down to Africa I picked up French and I can speak it like I'm breathing air.
I graduated ISB in 1977 and hung around until 1979, I loved the place so much. When I walked across the stage at ISB and received my HS Diploma, it was the equal of a Bachelor's Degree in any university in the world. The lessons I learned there have followed me my entire life, on six continents.
To this day I consider Bangkok my home town. I went back to Thailand with the Army, multiple tours of duty 1988-1992, but I only went back to Bangkok once; the place had changed, my friends were all gone and it broke my heart to be there. I visited Roger Welty and Mrs. Gatti, and recently learned through Facebook that she is still there, incredibly, retiring in a year or two.
After Bangkok I went back to Melbourne to complete the circle. Spent a year there, and a year in Sydney, then came over to the States to be with my family, who'd rotated back from Thailand. Of course, everywhere I go I fit in like a square peg in a round hole, so the Army was the place for me. When I got to Fort Benning, Day One of Basic Training, I finally found where I belonged.
We are different than all the others . . . only another TCK will ever understand . . .
STORMBRINGER SENDS
Friday, July 5, 2013
FREE NRA LIFE OF DUTY MEMBERSHIPS
As a celebration of our American independence, NRA are thanking our nation's active-duty military, law enforcement and first responders this week by sponsoring FREE one-year NRA Life of Duty memberships!
If you or someone you know is a member of these active-duty communities, sign up (at no cost) at JOIN.NRALIFEOFDUTY.TV and begin receiving all standard NRA benefits, plus EXCLUSIVE discounts on gear, life insurance the NRA American Warrior digital magazine and more!
If you or someone you know is a member of these active-duty communities, sign up (at no cost) at JOIN.NRALIFEOFDUTY.TV and begin receiving all standard NRA benefits, plus EXCLUSIVE discounts on gear, life insurance the NRA American Warrior digital magazine and more!
Thursday, July 4, 2013
JASON EVERMAN: RANGER, GREEN BERET
Jason Everman was both a member of Nirvana and Soundgarden right before they hit their prime. He got kicked out Nirvana because he was too dark for them - if you can believe that - then he was kicked out of Soundgarden because he was too dark for THEM joined the Army and became a Ranger. Even THAT wasn't dark enough for him, so he crossed over to the Dark Side, - "went down the street" as we say in the Forces - and became a Green Beret.
Jason Everman, Army Ranger, Green Beret
Read Jason's amazing saga HERE
Happy Birthday, America
- STORMBRINGER SENDS
Read Jason's amazing saga HERE
Happy Birthday, America
- STORMBRINGER SENDS
ĆEVAPI
Ćevapi or ćevapčići (ћевапчићи) is a grilled dish of minced meat, a type of kebab, found traditionally in the countries of southeastern Europe. They are considered a national dish in the republics of the former Yugoslavia. We used to eat them all the time over there.
When I took my family to Stuttgart, we found ćevap's in the local market, and of course we often had them with the Balkan Platter, at the Croatian restaurant in Böblingen, near where we lived.
Bosnian ćevapi are made from two types of minced beef meat, hand mixed and formed with a funnel, while formed ćevapi are grilled. Serb ćevapčići are made of either beef, lamb or pork or mixed. Macedonian, Croatian, Bulgarian and Romanian varieties are often made of both pork and beef.
Here's how I make these little rascals:
Basic ingredients: 1 lb Jimmy Dean sausage (I use the spiciest variety), 1 lb ground beef, oregano and garlic powder. That's it.
At the start of the process of combining the two meats, dust them pretty well with the garlic powder and the oregano.
However you do it, making sausage is not a pretty sight." - Otto von Bismark, paraphrased.
Ćevapis are usually served of 5–10 pieces on a plate or in a flatbread (lepinje or somun), often with chopped onions, minced red pepper, and salt.
"If there is ever another war in Europe, it will come out of some damned silly thing in the Balkans." - Otto Von Bismark
Sex, Drugs and Ćevapčići - graffiti, spray painted on a bullet-scarred wall in Mostar, Bosnia i Herzegovina.
- STORMBRINGER SENDS
When I took my family to Stuttgart, we found ćevap's in the local market, and of course we often had them with the Balkan Platter, at the Croatian restaurant in Böblingen, near where we lived.
Bosnian ćevapi are made from two types of minced beef meat, hand mixed and formed with a funnel, while formed ćevapi are grilled. Serb ćevapčići are made of either beef, lamb or pork or mixed. Macedonian, Croatian, Bulgarian and Romanian varieties are often made of both pork and beef.
Here's how I make these little rascals:
Basic ingredients: 1 lb Jimmy Dean sausage (I use the spiciest variety), 1 lb ground beef, oregano and garlic powder. That's it.
At the start of the process of combining the two meats, dust them pretty well with the garlic powder and the oregano.
However you do it, making sausage is not a pretty sight." - Otto von Bismark, paraphrased.
Ćevapis are usually served of 5–10 pieces on a plate or in a flatbread (lepinje or somun), often with chopped onions, minced red pepper, and salt.
"If there is ever another war in Europe, it will come out of some damned silly thing in the Balkans." - Otto Von Bismark
Sex, Drugs and Ćevapčići - graffiti, spray painted on a bullet-scarred wall in Mostar, Bosnia i Herzegovina.
- STORMBRINGER SENDS
Wednesday, July 3, 2013
IWI NEGEV SF
This is my buddy DoubleTapper & Co with the IWI Negev SF In Slow Motion And Full Auto - presented by ZAHAL - Enjoy! and, "See you at the range!" S.L.
The Negev is an Israeli 5.56 mm light machine gun, developed by Israel Weapon Industries (IWI) of Ramat HaSharon (formerly Israel Military Industries) as a replacement for the 5.56 mm Galil ARM light machine gun, whose barrel would overheat easily during sustained fire. Design work on this new indigenous firearm began in 1985, and it was officially adopted by the Israeli Defense Forces (IDF) in 1997. In 2012, IWI introduced the new Negev NG7, in 7.62mm calibre, to become the standard issue for the IDF.
ZAHAL has been in business since 2001, serving thousands of customers reaching from Hawaii to Vladivostok.
Zahel's mission is to offer state of the art Israeli army equipment and hard to find IDF memorabilia together with competitive prices and exceptional service. Customers consist of professional soldiers, contractors, arms enthusiasts and Israel/IDF supporters.
= STORMBRINGER SENDS
The Negev is an Israeli 5.56 mm light machine gun, developed by Israel Weapon Industries (IWI) of Ramat HaSharon (formerly Israel Military Industries) as a replacement for the 5.56 mm Galil ARM light machine gun, whose barrel would overheat easily during sustained fire. Design work on this new indigenous firearm began in 1985, and it was officially adopted by the Israeli Defense Forces (IDF) in 1997. In 2012, IWI introduced the new Negev NG7, in 7.62mm calibre, to become the standard issue for the IDF.
ZAHAL has been in business since 2001, serving thousands of customers reaching from Hawaii to Vladivostok.
Zahel's mission is to offer state of the art Israeli army equipment and hard to find IDF memorabilia together with competitive prices and exceptional service. Customers consist of professional soldiers, contractors, arms enthusiasts and Israel/IDF supporters.
= STORMBRINGER SENDS
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
WHAT I DID ON MY SUMMER VACATION
Here at FireBase TigerLily it's been cycle break between contracts and since I reconfigured my workshop to where I can actually do work (I know what a concept) I was able to be a busy little beaver with the power tools and the ol' imagination - S.L.
This weekend's project: a proper shooting bench.
About to have a Good Time here in the Freedom Lovin' Commonwealth of Pennsylvania where the Second Amendment was WRITTEN ! ! !
Time to move up on the Objective.
This guy had a bad day.
That guy at the gunshop who said the Aimpoint on that 10/22 was zeroed to fifty meters was a straight up effing liar. But it is now!
This is my last group - zeroed at fifty meters. That'll work.
My daughter says anyone who has more guns than rooms in their house is a gun nut, and this may be an indicator of a bigger problem. I say, yeah, sure I'm a gun nut. What's the problem?
- STORMBRINGER SENDS
This weekend's project: a proper shooting bench.
About to have a Good Time here in the Freedom Lovin' Commonwealth of Pennsylvania where the Second Amendment was WRITTEN ! ! !
Time to move up on the Objective.
This guy had a bad day.
That guy at the gunshop who said the Aimpoint on that 10/22 was zeroed to fifty meters was a straight up effing liar. But it is now!
This is my last group - zeroed at fifty meters. That'll work.
My daughter says anyone who has more guns than rooms in their house is a gun nut, and this may be an indicator of a bigger problem. I say, yeah, sure I'm a gun nut. What's the problem?
- STORMBRINGER SENDS
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