About a year ago, I started a project that was as good for blog material as I've had in many a year. Unfortunately, I had to lay off because there was someone on the project who was trying to get me fired for blogging about the project. I think that risk is gone this time, as the project has, phoenix-like, come back from the dead. Same stuff, same case, just a different time. So here we are, seeing a lot of familiar faces. Doc Brown is here:
As is Wolfman Jack:
Alas, many of my favorites from last year are not here. On the other hand, the agency added a bunch of people today, so maybe some more oldies but goodies will be back. Certainly the same wonderful emails are back. But more on that later. It's just like old times, blogging about Temp Town again!
Time marches on, I guess -- Malcolm Young, the rhythm guitar player and co-founder of iconic Australian rock bank AC/DC, died today. He was only 64. He and his younger brother, Angus, the band's lead guitarist, founded the band in 1972. Their producer and older brother, George Young, died in October at age 70. George gained his own measure of fame with The Easybeats, who scored a hit in the 1960s with "Friday on My Mind."
I always thought Malcolm, playing rhythm, must be the most bored guitar player in history, as AC/DC was often accused of using the same three chords and always sounding the same. Maybe so, but Angus was famously quoted as answering the question, "Why do you always use the same three chords?" with, "Because they work." I'm not sure he ever actually said it -- I feel like it would have been here if he had -- but the band was proud of keeping it simple. And it worked. Malcolm was a big part of that.
I don't know if his death means the end of AC/DC. I hope not. But rock on, Malcolm, whereever you are.
This one's for George:
George was the rhythm guitar player.
And this one's for Malcolm:
Yeah, you barely see him. Damn, they were young. Almost everyone in the video is dead now.
There is a famous story, apparently true, told about Marine Gen. James Mattis, the current Secretary of Defense, who as a brigadier general stood watch as officer of the day at Quantico Marine Corps Base so that a junior officer scheduled to stand the watch could be with his family on Christmas. The story is "apparently true" because it is told by Marine Gen. Charles Krulak, former commandant of the Marine Corps, who, when he was commandant, used to deliver Christmas cookies to Marine units based in the Washington, D.C., area. Read Krulak's story, because it says a lot about Mattis.
So does this story, from just a couple days ago. Apparently an Army veteran went to Arlington Cemetery to visit the graves of a pair of his fallen comrades. He saw someone there he recognized. I can't even begin to tell the story, so I won't. Go to the link. Between that and Krulak's story, you'll realize why every Marine who knows anything about Gen. Mattis would launch an assault on Hell for him tomorrow so long as he would lead the attack. And he would. No surprise he had to retire under the Obama administration. Warriors didn't do well in the military in those days.
I'd feel better about it if I were posting more and driving the kind of traffic I used to, but Eff You passed 200,000 visitors sometime yesterday. Obviously, this is a low-traffic blog in the best of times, but still. Thanks for coming by, and I'll try to do better about posting. Tough times here at Chez Wolves, but there's a light at the end of the tunnel. I think it's neon and says "Budweiser."
With Cpl. Wolves out of the Marines, I struggled with whether I should still put up a birthday post for the Corps. I didn't yesterday, but I decided that as a child of the Corps, I should acknowledge the anniversary. Happy belated birthday, Marines:
Big Mouth Billy Bass was a thing about 25 years ago, with a fake fish singing stupid songs. Somebody figured out how to update Big Mouth Billy. The past meets the future in this magnificent melding of technologies:
The Marine Corps is on the hunt for an uber-compact rocket launcher system capable of raining down suppressive fire on the enemy, then flying away in a V-22 Osprey or CH-53K King Stallion.
As the Corps prepares for a future fight in which units operate with greater independence and at greater distances apart, portability and power are at a premium.
Ever since I was 7 years old and made a mortar out of tennis ball cans with my older brother, I have been looking to up my firepower and its portability. Since I don't have an Osprey, though, I want something that fits in a Honda Accord.
People of faith don't think prayers are a magic spell against evil. Saying that people praying is a waste of time might seem like a good talking point to a party that believes government action cures all ills, but boy, howdy, are they wrong.
