British Airways takes beef off the menu to avoid offending Hindus

For decades the national dish has been a staple meal on the national carrier.

But now British Airways has taken beef off the menu for economy passengers amid concerns about its “religious restrictions”.

The airline has instead switched to a fish pie or chicken dish option for the so-called “cattle class” passengers.

I refuse to fly British Airways, and I seldom eat the in-flight meal on any airline, so I don’t really have a dog in this fight.

Of course, some people are going to complain about this move, but from BA’s business perspective, it makes perfect sense:

BA’s second-biggest long-haul market is to India, where the majority Hindu population do not eat beef because of their beliefs.

Frankly, I don’t see why airlines should serve hot meals at all. Even on the longer flights (London-Tokyo, Los Angeles-Sydney, for example), meals consisting of sandwiches, salads, fruit plates and cold breakfasts (cereal, yogurt and breads) would be more than adequate to get you through the flight.

Even better would be pre-flight dispensaries where ticketed passengers could pick (say) two sack meals of their own preference before boarding, thus leaving the cabin attendants only the task of serving drinks (which are vital) in flight.

Of course, I’m only talking about steerage coach class. The bloated plutocrats flying in first- or business class could still be indulged—which, given what those tickets cost nowadays, is only fair—and BA’s not considering dropping beef from those menus.

But no beef in coach? Not important.

RIVERDALE, Utah (AP)—The police chief who shot himself in the ankle was waving a loaded pistol and being careless, according to two students who were attending his class to qualify for a concealed-weapons permit. “We were told the gun is the chief’s personal sidearm, but it looked to me like he didn’t know anything about the gun,” Lewis Walker said.

Bart Ulm, another student seeking certification to carry a concealed weapon, said he was surprised Chief Dave Hansen was using a loaded gun to show how it worked.

“Right then, I was very leery, because there’s no need to have live ammo in a gun in the class. But I figured he’s the chief, so he must know what he’s doing,” Ulm told the Standard-Examiner of Ogden.

Hansen held the Glock 40 under a table to disassemble it when a bullet fired, Walker said.

The chief cried, “I’m hit,” and fell over. Students who were screaming “Officer down!” were urged to call 911.

I’m not going to comment about the stupidity of the cop, because that would be redundant. Anyone who owns a gun has a duty to know how it works, and knowing how to unload it without shooting yourself is probably Job 1 in that regard.

What interests me is the gun—specifically, the type of gun.

I have always thought that the double-action (DA) pistol is an example of an engineering solution to a training problem. I’m generally somewhat flippant about it—I don’t own a DA pistol, and am unlikely to do so unless it’s a piece of history—and I usually say something like “If I want to shoot DA, I’ll use a revolver” or “If John Moses Browning had intended for double-action semi-auto pistols to exist, he would have made one that way.”

But I do have a serious point to make about DA pistols. If you don’t know what you’re doing, or are an idiot, it’s easy to leave a round chambered, thinking that you’ve unloaded the piece just by popping the magazine out. Worse still, unless you draw the slide back to check, it’s impossible to see whether the gun is still loaded—except of course, if your gun has one of those “loaded chamber” indicators (yet another example of an engineering fix to address a training problem).

And yes, it’s also possible to do the same with a single-action pistol—but it has been my experience that SA-only pistoleros tend to be more knowledgeable about pistols than people who use DA pistols exclusively, and thus accidental discharges (ADs) are relatively rare with SA pistols.

Of course, the number of ADs made with Glocks is not a knock on the pistol itself; that’s merely a factor because of the number of Glocks out there—statistically, the greater number of guns owned means a greater number of morons. Bookies will not be denied, in other words.

But I have to tell you, it’s awfully difficult for someone to leave a round in a revolver cylinder. The very nature of the piece means that if the cylinder is open, you see all the chambers at once, and a single round stands out like a kitten on a tablecloth.

I think, in other words, that it’s considerably more difficult to have an AD with a DA revolver than it is with a DA pistol. You have to be a complete moron to have an accidental discharge with a double-action revolver.

Which is why the only non-mechanical AD I’ve ever had was with a DA revolver.

But that’s a story for another time.

As usual, of course, a lot of the problem is caused by stupid people:

The animals are lured into neighborhoods by dog or cat food left outdoors, food that people leave out for wild animals and scraps in garbage cans, he said.

“People get used to seeing them, but this is a wild animal and you do not want a wild animal in your backyard,” Morse said.

“When coyotes get habitualized to being around people and lose that fear of humans, that’s when it’s very tenuous.” [my emphasis]

Myself, if I were to leave food out for critters, it would be as bait, so I could shoot the sumbitches.

Here’s a little background on the rabies thing. It’s not pleasant:

Rabies is a viral disease most often transmitted through the bite of an infected animal. It attacks the central nervous system and, if untreated, can lead to anxiety, confusion, paralysis, hypersalivation, difficulty swallowing, and fear of water. Death usually occurs within a week of the onset of symptoms.

Fortunately, we don’t have a coyote problem here (yet), although I’ve seen one myself just a couple of miles away from my house in Plano (in a wild area along a river bank), and we have a jillion wild rabbits in the neighborhood.

The biggest problem, of course, is that even if I saw one, there wouldn’t be much I could do without getting into trouble—because we have a whole bunch of stupid laws which prevent the discharge of guns within city limits. (I know, I know—they actually make sense in the general scheme of things. The problem is that in the general scheme of things, we shouldn’t get coyotes snatching pets and, in California, toddlers and babies.)

Frankly, I’d be happier to see something more commonsense, along the lines of: “If you fire a gun to whack a critter, that’s fine: but if anyone else gets hurt by a ricochet or whatever, your ass will be in a whole heap of trouble.” (That’s official legal talk in Texas.)

And let me tell you, if I was walking around the place, and a coyote, fox or raccoon got too close (ie. within 10 yards), it’s going down, regardless of the stupid law.

Rabies shots are not pleasant, rabies infection is a miserable way to die—and let me tell you, I’d rather take my chances with the fuzz than with a possibly-rabid critter.

And by the way: people who live in rural areas, especially those close to the Mexican border, are more likely to encounter rabid animals than others.

Be careful out there.

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By the way, this is not a uniquely-American problem, of course. I recall that back in the 1970s, a leopard was caught living in the Wanderers Cricket Ground just outside Johannesburg—the equivalent of Shea Stadium in New York—and up till then had been living quite nicely off pets and wild critters in the neighboring golf course. You can imagine the panic of the local residents, until the damn thing was trapped.

Even worse, the leopard had just been declared “endangered”, so by law, it could not be shot, by anyone (although I know what I would have done, if confronted—and in those days I carried a Colt New Service revolver, loaded with big fat .45 Long Colt boolets).

Watch this space…

In order to get the sites back up we had to recreate the databases (on all our sites) from the various bits and pieces that were not corrupted by the crash.  Depending on how far back we had to go to get the pieces determined how much data was lost.

On this site, the post data was good and current, but the header table (for all posts) required the use of a 3/31 backup.  We recreated the records for everything since that date, and Kim is going through the process of restoring the real titles and the dates the posts were made.  (This will take a little time to get cleaned up.)

The comment table was also destroyed and the earliest table we could restore was also from 3/31.

The member table also required we go back to the 3/31 back up.  If you changed member details (or became a member) after 3/31, you will need to redo those changes (or join again).  SORRY!!

We’re dreadfully sorry about the confusion!

Update: You may want to bookmark our worpress site status site, which we post to when things are wonky:  http://dutoit.wordpress.com/

Now read this:

Robert Hoppe of Nevada shattered the standing 600-yard light gun five-shot group record at a National Benchrest Shooters Association (NBRSA) registered match in Sacramento, California on October 28, 2007.

Hoppe’s 0.5823” certified record group was shot with Hornady 105-grain A-MAX bullets, using Varget powder from a 6mm Dasher* (Light Gun) with a 28” Hart Barrel, Panda action with Jewell trigger, Dierks carbon fiber stock, and Nightforce 8-32X scope.

Wish they’d included a pic of the gun… but as you can tell from the description, this is no “off the rack” piece.

Let me tell you all: that is sensational shooting, especially where the entire rig (gun and scope) may not weigh more than 17lbs.

Congratulations, Mr. Hoppe.

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*The 6mm Dasher is essentially a shortened .22-250 casing formed into an “Ackley” shape, shooting a 6mm pill. Although the cartridge is normally loaded with a much lighter bullet (like 55- or 58gr), the 105gr A-Max is clearly a “wind-buster” by comparison.

Homes worth more than £1 million have been the biggest casualties of the country’s crumbling property market, estate agents warned today.

Since September, the average price of Britain’s most expensive homes has fallen between 10 and 15 per cent, according to Hamptons. By comparison, average homes, which typically sell for £200,000, have dropped over the same period, but only by about three per cent. The firm said a typical home which sold for £960,000 in the autumn would now fetch as little as £820,000, its average sales price.

Of course, being Brits, they’re not too concerned, as it’s mostly houses belonging to “the rich” which are being affected.

People everywhere (and not just Brits) need to be aware that property, while a mostly good long-term investment, is not immune from occasional market hiccups. If you buy property expecting its value to appreciate every year, you’d better be in a stable market—one which shows consistent, not spectacular growth—and not in a market which is highly susceptible to upswings and downturns.

It helps if you have a good appreciation for what I call the “absolute value” of a piece of property. I recall reading about a couple who had bought a modest condo in central Boston for $850,000 in 1985 (during a boom), saw it grow to about $950,000 the next year—and plummet to $270,000 after the stock market crash of 1987.

Oops.

The problem, of course, was that the luckless couple were convinced by the realtor that a one-bedroom one-bath unit of 1,500sq ft was a good investment at $850K, whereas only three years before it had sold for about $180K. They had no idea of the absolute value of the property, which, at the time they bought it, was about $250K.

Caveat emptor. The higher the climb, the greater the potential drop.

People always seem to forget that, lured by dollar signs and by the fact that some investments do grow quickly—but only a very few. Then, when they lose everything, they want “assistance” or some such nonsense. And it is nonsense. If you want to invest, you need to know the risks. And if you don’t know or understand the risks, or don’t take the time to learn them, then you’re vulnerable, not to mention too stupid to be investing.

I have to admit: I don’t mind offering a helping hand in times of misfortune. But I draw the line at subsidizing stupidity.

Now, a BBQ gun is a whole different animal. A BBQ gun is what you wear to barbeques, baby christenings, formal balls, and any other place where a fancy jacket or outfit would be worn.

Get your paws on a revolver. Smith & Wesson or Colt would be best, although I understand that Brazilian products are becoming accepted. Polished stainless at a minimum, and full-blown nickle is a better. And pony up for full engraving. Have the trigger, hammer, screws and ejection rod anodized blue, gold, or colour-case-hardened for the traditionalists.

Now, look in the mirror. Is your mustache over 50% grey? If so, go for pearl grips. 49% or less on the grey-meter, and you’d best stick with ivory. If you go for mother-of-pearl, have it carved or inlaid. Steer heads are a classic pattern, although badges and stars are always safe.

If you go the ivory option, have the ivory inlaid or scrimshawed. Floral patterns involving roses and the Texas flag are good, as well as the state of Texas, a tasteful rendition of a young lady, or long horn cattle. Any scene from the battle of the Alamo is a surefire crowd pleaser. For those souls living outside the Great State of Texas, the flag raising at Mt. Suribachi may be substituted for an Alamo scene, and anything involving Marines is acceptable engraving material.

Well, that’s a distinctly Texas take on the matter, of course. I am a man who never wears a “fancy” jacket or outfit, and I eschew fancy engraving and shiny grips—in fact, I run from them as fast as I can. So my take on a decent BBQ gun is likely different to Lawdog’s.

My ideal BBQ gun would be something old, but in perfect condition, with little (and discreet withal) ornamentation, if any. That goes for gun, leather and clothing. And I’d far prefer something in blue steel (to go along with the “discreet” motif) to some shiny thing.

Of course, I’m not a native Texan (although I got here as fast as I could), so I would feel silly if dressed up all gaudy like that. Hell, a string tie makes me nervous.

However, where Lawdog and I part company forever is on this:

I understand that Brazilian products are becoming accepted.

I’m sorry, but that’s taking informality just a little too far. I mean, what’s the point of having standards if you’re just going to relax them for the riff-raff?

In order: Colt, S&W and, in a distant third place, Ruger. That’s it. If you can’t find something decent in those three marques, there’s something wrong with you.

At least he had the good sense to forego nylon and Kydex holsters. And this sentiment alone is worthy of a round of applause:

Around here, everyone has gone to polymer framed pistols, and I’m here to tell you, ain’t no way this side of the Styx than you can turn a Glock into a court gun.

Talk about gauche. Next thing, some guy will be showing up at a BBQ with a mother-of-pearl-gripped, engraved HK.

I would expect that rascal to be shown the door: politely, of course.

When Ernest Shackleton planned the “last great journey on Earth” - a hazardous attempt to cross the Antarctic continent via the South Pole - he went about recruiting for his expedition team by placing an advertisement in a newspaper.

It read: “Men wanted for hazardous journey. Small wages, bitter cold, long months of complete darkness, constant danger, safe return doubtful. Honour and recognition in case of success.”

More than 5,000 aspiring adventurers replied to that 1913 advertisement. What would be the odds for generating so much enthusiasm for such a daring, even foolhardy, mission these days?

Small, according to historian and archaelogist Neil Oliver. “Frankly, the only thing that would get so much interest these days is an advert for bloody Big Brother,” he sighs.

“Nothing matters today unless you’re being filmed doing it. Everything has to happen live. People don’t do things just for the sake of doing them any more.”
...
Shackleton’s heroic but ill-fated expedition is one of the stories retold in Oliver’s new book, Amazing Tales for Making Men Out of Boys, which revives historic acts of bravery from the Battle of Thermopylae to the Penlee lifeboat rescue mission - tales that Oliver hopes will remind boys that “becoming a man was once about comradeship and standing by your friends whatever the circumstances” and that “sometimes it was more important to die a hero’s death than live a coward’s life”.

Stirring stuff indeed. According to Oliver, “manly men” have been “hunted to near-extinction in the British Isles. There’s been some kind of politically correct revolution where we’ve forgotten - or discarded - the value of being manly men,” he laments.

He may be right—although I note that the Royal Marines seem to have no shortage of recruits, and the SAS always fills its quota.

Ditto Over Here.

I note with extreme pleasure the disappearance of men from the Pink Collar Ghettos of the academe, and the constant ability of the Armed Forces to meet its recruiting goals. The Real Men are still out there, doing their jobs without complaint, performing feats of absolute heroism on a daily basis.

We just don’t hear about them, because apart from other Real Men like Michael Yon (himself a veteran), the Press is mostly peopled with women and girlymen who wouldn’t recognize a Real Man if their lives were saved by one.

And in today’s Pussified Era, Shackleton’s expedition, even before setting out, would be crippled by having to purchase all the insurance required by law. But that’s a rant for another time.