<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228737225683662902</id><updated>2012-02-16T15:25:49.187-08:00</updated><category term='Bacon'/><category term='Greater Hudson Bacon Guild'/><category term='Men'/><title type='text'>The Man Code</title><subtitle type='html'>The definitive code to guide all men; a &lt;i&gt;touchstone&lt;/i&gt; by which to check your man creds; The rally point where you should turn for answers to all things manly.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Swampy-Rah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00288993755894623188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6899/2222/320/footinmouth.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>33</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228737225683662902.post-5227324332144930710</id><published>2011-07-31T07:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-31T07:47:47.831-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Greater Hudson Bacon Guild'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Men'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bacon'/><title type='text'>According To:</title><content type='html'>1. A ruling on Bacon... According to the internet, there is no &lt;i&gt;'Greater Hudson Bacon Guild'&lt;/i&gt;. Well, guess who's been laboring under yet another false presumption. I was in the offices the other day, to gab with Kristi.  All was as it should be, until she broached the bacon theme with something Tim had shared about his bacon preparation protocols; it seems that he bakes his in the oven. 'Bakon'? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning, Pat was asked by his wife Carla. "Do you have to do bacon EVERY Sunday?" Dearest, dulcet lambs, without whom we men are incomplete, &lt;i&gt;It's &lt;b&gt;Bacon&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Presented with this surge of bacon confusion, and given that bacon IS the purview of Men, and in the absence of a &lt;i&gt;Greater Hudson Bacon Guild&lt;/i&gt;, The Man Code heretofore adopts this bastard child of the breakfast table as ward. All bacon-related queries may; and questions of protocol and practice must, be directed to this regulating blog. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Resolved: Bacon may certainly be prepared, in the oven, at the prescribed temperature, until it chances upon the desired crispness or lack thereof.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Resolved: Pat indeed must "...do bacon EVERY Sunday".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good Day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1228737225683662902-5227324332144930710?l=man-code.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/feeds/5227324332144930710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1228737225683662902&amp;postID=5227324332144930710' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/5227324332144930710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/5227324332144930710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/2011/07/according-to.html' title='According To:'/><author><name>Swampy-Rah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00288993755894623188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6899/2222/320/footinmouth.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228737225683662902.post-8674802762237043896</id><published>2011-02-16T17:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-16T17:37:37.183-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just In Time</title><content type='html'>So, while it is possible to be a man and not a Dad, it's just too pathetic to be a Dad but not a man... So, this in mind, I very nearly missed an opportunity to show I am either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We do AWANA, and when I say 'we' I mean I sit in the office at church and answer questions while the kids participate in all of the activities. Anna walked in to the office and told me that a boy had hit her in the face with a ball, and "..&lt;i&gt; he had not even cared&lt;/i&gt;." I comforted my little girl and kissed the side of her face, where I could see the ball had hit. She lingered. Suddenly, it dawned on me that she was awaiting action of some sort..&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;i&gt;Would you like me to go, and talk to them about it?&lt;/i&gt;" She nodded, &lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;yes&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;. I walked into the community room to perform some quick, corrective action. "&lt;i&gt;Did one of you boys hit this little girl in the face with a ball?"&lt;/i&gt; I asked. A nice, you man confessed, adding that he didn't mean to, and.. I stopped him. "&lt;i&gt;Did you apologize to her, for hitting her in the face, with a ball?&lt;/i&gt; He began to start with a second explanation. I repeated my question. A couple of little girls, interested in the spectacle unfolding in their space, piped up. "&lt;i&gt;NO, HE DIDN'T!&lt;/i&gt; He said that he had not. "&lt;i&gt;Do you think it might be a good idea to apologize to her, now?&lt;/i&gt; I suggested. He apologized, the nice kid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I walked out of the community room, I looked at my daughter; in her eyes and all over her face was something I will never forget. She was looking at her Daddy, who had come to stand up for her, had taken up her case and followed through on what was important to her. She felt valued and honored that I had been there for her when she needed me to be there. She can trust me more, now. She knows that I believe her, and what matters to her, also matters to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank You, God for letting me be the Daddy of that little girl. Thank You for not letting me fail her, tonight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1228737225683662902-8674802762237043896?l=man-code.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/feeds/8674802762237043896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1228737225683662902&amp;postID=8674802762237043896' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/8674802762237043896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/8674802762237043896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/2011/02/just-in-time.html' title='Just In Time'/><author><name>Swampy-Rah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00288993755894623188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6899/2222/320/footinmouth.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228737225683662902.post-4146578680362033243</id><published>2011-01-29T18:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-29T18:58:47.758-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Still Laughing..</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Man, do I love me some children's literature!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/TUTTS6urTQI/AAAAAAAABmE/DT88yWTmwWU/s1600/50_demented_childrens_books_5_20090721_1323991495.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/TUTTS6urTQI/AAAAAAAABmE/DT88yWTmwWU/s320/50_demented_childrens_books_5_20090721_1323991495.jpg" width="318" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/TUTTU0gta3I/AAAAAAAABmI/7yUhyddnSu8/s1600/50_demented_childrens_books_11_20090721_1116910464.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/TUTTU0gta3I/AAAAAAAABmI/7yUhyddnSu8/s320/50_demented_childrens_books_11_20090721_1116910464.jpg" width="230" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/TUTTVw2UJpI/AAAAAAAABmM/Xtxkkcd275I/s1600/50_demented_childrens_books_26_20090721_1663307635.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/TUTTVw2UJpI/AAAAAAAABmM/Xtxkkcd275I/s1600/50_demented_childrens_books_26_20090721_1663307635.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1228737225683662902-4146578680362033243?l=man-code.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/feeds/4146578680362033243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1228737225683662902&amp;postID=4146578680362033243' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/4146578680362033243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/4146578680362033243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/2011/01/im-still-laughing.html' title='I&apos;m Still Laughing..'/><author><name>Swampy-Rah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00288993755894623188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6899/2222/320/footinmouth.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/TUTTS6urTQI/AAAAAAAABmE/DT88yWTmwWU/s72-c/50_demented_childrens_books_5_20090721_1323991495.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228737225683662902.post-8286596615065487364</id><published>2010-10-06T05:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-06T05:08:06.401-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Marking My Territory</title><content type='html'>I really have no time for a dog that marks, in my house. It is a challenge to my position when he does it on my stuff. To be fair, Ohana used to do it and Maggie peed in the house for a while after we adopted her. Gizmo began when he got here and continued even after his castration, as many dogs will. There's just something about &lt;b&gt;the urine&lt;/b&gt; that matters to dogs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning, he marked in my bedroom. I took him outside on a leash, held him down with my foot and, sparing not his face,  marked my territory. He squealed a little but stopped struggling as soon as he realized what it was. I walked him inside, drenched to the skin, and let him wait outside the tub until Cheryl was done with her shower. He is now, once again, a cute, fluffy dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other two dogs were &lt;i&gt;Very&lt;/i&gt; curious about his smell, after the soaking. I wonder what they're thinking.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1228737225683662902-8286596615065487364?l=man-code.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/feeds/8286596615065487364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1228737225683662902&amp;postID=8286596615065487364' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/8286596615065487364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/8286596615065487364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/2010/10/marking-my-territory.html' title='Marking My Territory'/><author><name>Swampy-Rah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00288993755894623188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6899/2222/320/footinmouth.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228737225683662902.post-9121034945509404582</id><published>2010-03-21T16:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-21T17:07:26.347-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Man Code's Rule of Thirds</title><content type='html'>I have this theorum which, given the referendum, by virtue of my position of sole writer for this site, must be affirmed as a 'Rule'; to whit: 'Any stimulus which, by itself can compel an action, must itself be subject in it's authority over the body and it's actions, to the influence of other ovrwhelming stimulus'. Here's my example: I am in constant levels of varying pain. In this, pain is the stimulus. I subscribe to a pain management program of medication and moderated activity. If either of the two components are inconsistent, the level of pain stimulation overloads the limbic system and I get uncontrollable spasms throughout my body. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I find myself thus cascading I have previously been resolved to ride it out and chastise myself for allowing the wheels to, once again, fall off of my pain plan. Hmmm. Enter my new 'Rule'. Think of the pain in it's extremity as Stimulus #1; driving my body into spasms. In order to interrupt the signal to my brain I need a stimulus with equal or greater power to compel...I nominate the pleasure center. Pain and pleasure work in the same way, using the same receptors for different must-read messages; "Stop doing that, it's causing damage." And. "Do some more of that, it brings benefit." The body is hard-wired to hit the pleasure button and release those feelgoods, the endorphins. Pleasure seeking behavior results in propagation of the genetic line, provisioning of nutrients and maintenance of overall health. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Given the option, I suspect that the body will elect pleasure, to abate tortuous pain and I believe it is within our grasp to force the process.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell me if this passes the sniff test.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1228737225683662902-9121034945509404582?l=man-code.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/feeds/9121034945509404582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1228737225683662902&amp;postID=9121034945509404582' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/9121034945509404582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/9121034945509404582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/2010/03/man-codes-rule-of-thirds.html' title='Man Code&apos;s Rule of Thirds'/><author><name>Swampy-Rah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00288993755894623188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6899/2222/320/footinmouth.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228737225683662902.post-8420814797621602067</id><published>2009-05-09T10:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-09T11:28:16.132-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hangman</title><content type='html'>Timmy was there when I awoke this morning. I generally stretch my arms and legs, shoulders, hips and hands before I can get out of bed to take my morning pain-meds. Tim contemplated me in silence before asking. "&lt;i&gt;Dad, why did you go to the war?&lt;/i&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I explained that I had chosen to be a soldier many years before and that as such, it was my duty to go and do this thing. I explained that there was a very bad man, named Saddam Hussein who was the leader of a country and he had been killing thousands upon thousands of his own people for many years and America's soldiers answered the call of humanity to stop him and remove him from power. I said. "&lt;i&gt;and we did catch him; he was dragged from the concrete hole where he had hidden himself&lt;/i&gt;. &lt;i&gt;He was put on trial by his own people and they determined that he was guilty; they put a rope around his neck and they hung him.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/SgXJoXuCnXI/AAAAAAAABZY/cW0DUGDmFOU/s1600-h/IMG_3238.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/SgXJoXuCnXI/AAAAAAAABZY/cW0DUGDmFOU/s400/IMG_3238.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333891029089295730" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right away he said &lt;i&gt;It's like 'hangman' the game but he didn't get to guess his letters!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No Tim, he sure didn't.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1228737225683662902-8420814797621602067?l=man-code.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/feeds/8420814797621602067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1228737225683662902&amp;postID=8420814797621602067' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/8420814797621602067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/8420814797621602067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/2009/05/hangman.html' title='Hangman'/><author><name>Swampy-Rah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00288993755894623188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6899/2222/320/footinmouth.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/SgXJoXuCnXI/AAAAAAAABZY/cW0DUGDmFOU/s72-c/IMG_3238.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228737225683662902.post-1117703850049674966</id><published>2009-02-28T09:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-06T10:23:02.896-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Flash To Bang</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/SbFp9G1kJAI/AAAAAAAABX8/g-4Y-VWIh-A/s1600-h/0446.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 152px; height: 101px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/SbFp9G1kJAI/AAAAAAAABX8/g-4Y-VWIh-A/s400/0446.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310141934174741506" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the world of uniformed military 'flash to bang' is a rough estimate of the distance you are from an explosion. Sound travels about a kilometer a second, so if you count off the time from flash until you hear the bang, you should know approximate distance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I developed a vernacular characterization to apply to those I thought of as pompous and useless people; &lt;i&gt;"all flash - no bang".&lt;/i&gt;   I want to discuss with you, reader a problem endemic to our society at all observable levels; the impression that some lives do not matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a parent of two pre-teens, I am sensitive to the culture they are entering, wondering what role I have played in creating it and surveying my options to prepare them as young followers of Christ to impact His will. I am home all the time and devote a tremendous amount of attention and circumspection to both of my kids. The way that they are changing in maturity, becoming more aware of content and context and connecting with the world has me "on the bounce" as Sergeant Zim would say. The other morning, while I was making breakfast, Timmy brought out a deck of 'Armored Vehicle Recognition' cards from the 1980s. He said that he had some cool cards that he wanted to give me, that he had been 'saving for a long time' I replied that I recognized them since I'd given them to him... He began to review them, quizzing me about each one. He showed me the picture or described the vehicle or just read me the name; I was supposed to tell him something about each one. This made me smile because it was exactly what we used to do in the Infantry to train for 'Squad Intelligence' testing. Timmy described one vehicle to me and I asked him if it was a tank. He replied that No, he didn't think so because it had no main gun mounted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm doing some things right. I try to be the same person when I am alone that I am in their presence because integrity can't be compartmentalized. If you spend any amount of time around someone or if you are a trained &lt;strike&gt;intelligence agent&lt;/strike&gt; observer you can detect where the pattern ends and the frayed thread begins to reveal what is behind the curtain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am in a position to see a lot of what happens in the environment that my family lives in. I think spatially, which makes me good at analyzing and making obscure connections. I also have learned to be silent about what I know so people talk freely around me. I have long felt that there are perhaps more liabilities connected to great intelligence than there are benefits; I cannot enjoy the bliss of ignorance or convince myself that all is well, so how do I raise children that I anticipate will be every bit as perceptive as myself and yet encourage them to engage in a world that is really just a rotting melon? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is, admittedly, a fair influence of my own psychological damage in this perception of mine but not so much that there really is a Santa Claus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;a href="http://www.dict.cc/german-english/bumsen.html"&gt;ich will sie bumsen&lt;/a&gt;" The days of my youth included seasons of rebellion and forays into dangerous behaviors. None of what I experienced as a wild teen placed me in nearly as much peril as that which today stalks a naive high school student who engages in risk behaviors. I do see the danger that lurks in the daylight, in the guise of harmless or even helpful strangers but I just don't believe that the kids who put that slogan above on their facebook page are even mildly aware of the scent it puts out to real predators. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe we too value less noble pursuits than we are capable of. It cheapens us as the children of God when we set, as virtue, the deception of appearance over substance of Godly character. I see our political process as the vilest example of this chicanery. In the last Presidential election campaign we saw the very worst of subtleties emerge in the manipulation of the electorate. Sophisticated marketing strategies were very successfully applied in order to influence the audience at a subconscious level; the very goal being the association of strong character values with someone who had none of those attributes. I expect that this degraded state of character is an end-times trend. We have been a state in decline as has been the case with any culture that sets themselves aside from God and replaces Him with secular aspirations. We are only a step away from making God illegal in America but as I have long averred, I will resist and become noncompliant with societal fads that make my behaviors illegal. Remember that the Constitution of the United States of America does not grant rights but recognizes &lt;i&gt;inalienable&lt;/i&gt; rights granted by God and therefore inseparable from the citizen by the machinery of the state.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be assured, &lt;B&gt;I am&lt;/B&gt; the parent who actively pursues the well-being of my children. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regardless of how an individual conducts themselves with the tasks they have accepted responsibility for, they are not just valuable but precious, to God. Each of us can take no step that is not seen by a loving heavenly Father who delights in us and mourns our bad choices. It then falls to us to be caregivers for our brothers and sisters in the way that Jesus would, cherishing and jealously protecting them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1228737225683662902-1117703850049674966?l=man-code.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/feeds/1117703850049674966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1228737225683662902&amp;postID=1117703850049674966' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/1117703850049674966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/1117703850049674966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/2009/02/flash-to-bang.html' title='Flash To Bang'/><author><name>Swampy-Rah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00288993755894623188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6899/2222/320/footinmouth.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/SbFp9G1kJAI/AAAAAAAABX8/g-4Y-VWIh-A/s72-c/0446.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228737225683662902.post-5498614813971990979</id><published>2008-09-03T15:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T15:21:42.059-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Barack Obama: Infanticide Advocate</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VIdbYjmbFzo"&gt;The Barack Obama Infanticide video.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1228737225683662902-5498614813971990979?l=man-code.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/feeds/5498614813971990979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1228737225683662902&amp;postID=5498614813971990979' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/5498614813971990979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/5498614813971990979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/2008/09/barack-obama-infanticide-advocate.html' title='Barack Obama: Infanticide Advocate'/><author><name>Swampy-Rah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00288993755894623188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6899/2222/320/footinmouth.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228737225683662902.post-395532677812300418</id><published>2008-09-02T19:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-02T19:27:33.292-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Test Balloon</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/SL31wNCfJMI/AAAAAAAAA8M/tRuxmYadc_U/s1600-h/Page_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/SL31wNCfJMI/AAAAAAAAA8M/tRuxmYadc_U/s400/Page_1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241615749811741890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feel free to share in my fun; this image is free for everyone to use.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1228737225683662902-395532677812300418?l=man-code.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/feeds/395532677812300418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1228737225683662902&amp;postID=395532677812300418' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/395532677812300418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/395532677812300418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/2008/09/test-balloon.html' title='Test Balloon'/><author><name>Swampy-Rah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00288993755894623188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6899/2222/320/footinmouth.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/SL31wNCfJMI/AAAAAAAAA8M/tRuxmYadc_U/s72-c/Page_1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228737225683662902.post-7825409182487292479</id><published>2008-08-31T22:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-31T23:30:29.505-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Abcessed Tooth</title><content type='html'>I'm typing with a mouthful of Tortugan Rum because I need to see a dentist. A few weeks ago I began experiencing pain in my left, upper teeth; I figured that they might be moving and pressure was causing pain. Yesterday, the area began to hurt a lot more so I let hot coffee sit on the teeth and gums which settled it down some; this morning I suspect an abcessed tooth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Skol! The rum is supposed by the on-line community, to be whiskey. Now what kind of pirate would do a thing like that? I'm on my second glass of therapy so I figure that I hadn't written anything on Man Code lately and it has caused an abcess to form in my tooth; It's my reckless irresponsibility come to roost, really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A partial list of my other man-sins that may have caused the abcess:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I missed the EAA Warbird Show at Osh Kosh. Radial engines... 2000 horsepower R 2800 Pratt and Whitney Rolls Royce Merlin 18 cylinder 2,800 cu. in. or the 1700 horse Allison Model V-1710-51 (right-hand drive) 12 cylinder, supercharged with a 1,710 cu.in. displacement...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Third glass. The tooth is numbing nicely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I have yet to imbibe the essence of the varmint poontang when a prairie dog does the 'misty prairie hop' and the scent of cordite embeds in my flesh, making me irrestistable to my wife. The concussive effect of the long-bore, high-power firing might have cleared the foul tooth demons out; Coulda-woulda-shoulda...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I've had several occasions to start fights with tough teenagers that, when properly instigated can loosen teeth and release set-in tension.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I have yet to be abducted by space aliens; I don't care what they might do to my ass as long as they do some of that advanced alien-tech dental with no co-pay.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm looking at glass 4...The instructions said you are supposed to spit it out; perhaps that's why they also suggested &lt;i&gt;whiskey&lt;/i&gt;. I'm gonna go curl up in my bed with my wife and my dog too; I'll bet he could lick and chew out that abcess. Guess if it's still hurtin' in the morning I'll make bacon and let him work on it through my bad teeth.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1228737225683662902-7825409182487292479?l=man-code.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/feeds/7825409182487292479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1228737225683662902&amp;postID=7825409182487292479' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/7825409182487292479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/7825409182487292479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/2008/08/abcessed-tooth.html' title='Abcessed Tooth'/><author><name>Swampy-Rah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00288993755894623188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6899/2222/320/footinmouth.jpg'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228737225683662902.post-3960199888020832703</id><published>2008-07-04T12:17:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-04T12:23:35.146-07:00</updated><title type='text'>McNo Thank You...</title><content type='html'>Ronald McDonald wants to hold your pickle and hold your nuggets... Ha, that's funny to me.  &lt;a href="http://www.boycottmcdonalds.com/"&gt;Disgusting agenda&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why can't the Golden Arches just stick to selling burgers?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1228737225683662902-3960199888020832703?l=man-code.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/feeds/3960199888020832703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1228737225683662902&amp;postID=3960199888020832703' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/3960199888020832703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/3960199888020832703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/2008/07/mcno-thank-you_5300.html' title='McNo Thank You...'/><author><name>Swampy-Rah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00288993755894623188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6899/2222/320/footinmouth.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228737225683662902.post-7576896485631854082</id><published>2008-06-27T07:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T22:45:23.713-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Know What I Want To Do...Epilogue</title><content type='html'>Well,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/SGUBnMIbLHI/AAAAAAAAA3U/PCtKHyF1IdU/s1600-h/hammer+time.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/SGUBnMIbLHI/AAAAAAAAA3U/PCtKHyF1IdU/s400/hammer+time.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216577516161674354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally got to talk to her dad. He was wide-eyed and angry; appreciative for my willingness to step up as a neighbor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/SGUESebp_kI/AAAAAAAAA3c/crTQVR-_tWU/s1600-h/shovel-s700.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/SGUESebp_kI/AAAAAAAAA3c/crTQVR-_tWU/s400/shovel-s700.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216580458831806018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I caught up to him as he was leaving for work; he gave me his card after hearing his nightmare-come-true and we're meeting later to take the boy for a walk in the woods, where we'll force him to dig his own grave before dad beheads him with the shovel. My neighbor is a very likeable guy who has worked as a construction contractor. I wouldn't want to be man-boy tonight...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to all of you who encouraged me to do the right thing and tell Dad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1228737225683662902-7576896485631854082?l=man-code.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/feeds/7576896485631854082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1228737225683662902&amp;postID=7576896485631854082' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/7576896485631854082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/7576896485631854082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-know-what-i-want-to-do-epilogue.html' title='I Know What I Want To Do...&lt;i&gt;Epilogue&lt;/i&gt;'/><author><name>Swampy-Rah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00288993755894623188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6899/2222/320/footinmouth.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/SGUBnMIbLHI/AAAAAAAAA3U/PCtKHyF1IdU/s72-c/hammer+time.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228737225683662902.post-8446892031160449180</id><published>2008-06-23T07:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T07:41:34.275-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Everything Old Is New, Again.</title><content type='html'>The First part of King Henry the Fourth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Act 2.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SCENE III. Warkworth castle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LADY PERCY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;i&gt;O, my good lord, why are you thus alone?&lt;br /&gt;    For what offence have I this fortnight been&lt;br /&gt;    A banish'd woman from my Harry's bed?&lt;br /&gt;    Tell me, sweet lord, what is't that takes from thee&lt;br /&gt;    Thy stomach, pleasure and thy golden sleep?&lt;br /&gt;    Why dost thou bend thine eyes upon the earth,&lt;br /&gt;    And start so often when thou sit'st alone?&lt;br /&gt;    Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheeks;&lt;br /&gt;    And given my treasures and my rights of thee&lt;br /&gt;    To thick-eyed musing and cursed melancholy?&lt;br /&gt;    In thy faint slumbers I by thee have watch'd,&lt;br /&gt;    And heard thee murmur tales of iron wars;&lt;br /&gt;    Speak terms of manage to thy bounding steed;&lt;br /&gt;    Cry 'Courage! to the field!' And thou hast talk'd&lt;br /&gt;    Of sallies and retires, of trenches, tents,&lt;br /&gt;    Of palisadoes, frontiers, parapets,&lt;br /&gt;    Of basilisks, of cannon, culverin,&lt;br /&gt;    Of prisoners' ransom and of soldiers slain,&lt;br /&gt;    And all the currents of a heady fight.&lt;br /&gt;    Thy spirit within thee hath been so at war&lt;br /&gt;    And thus hath so bestirr'd thee in thy sleep,&lt;br /&gt;    That beads of sweat have stood upon thy brow&lt;br /&gt;    Like bubbles in a late-disturbed stream;&lt;br /&gt;    And in thy face strange motions have appear'd,&lt;br /&gt;    Such as we see when men restrain their breath&lt;br /&gt;    On some great sudden hest. O, what portents are these?&lt;br /&gt;    Some heavy business hath my lord in hand,&lt;br /&gt;    And I must know it, else he loves me not.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And hast your wife, herself a victim of this internal warring set beside thee and watched? Doth she also cry as in your dreams the battle rages ahead and behind? Hast thou a remedy for this hot illness upon thy armory? Treat her then as a gentle beloved who knows thee beyond thy stern countenance; love her for thyself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1228737225683662902-8446892031160449180?l=man-code.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/feeds/8446892031160449180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1228737225683662902&amp;postID=8446892031160449180' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/8446892031160449180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/8446892031160449180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/2008/06/everything-old-is-new-again.html' title='Everything Old Is New, Again.'/><author><name>Swampy-Rah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00288993755894623188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6899/2222/320/footinmouth.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228737225683662902.post-8282312738285832799</id><published>2008-06-21T18:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T22:45:23.948-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Know What I Want To Do...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/SF2vQJCXKNI/AAAAAAAAA3M/WLIHzoPNZRA/s1600-h/ccreek14.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/SF2vQJCXKNI/AAAAAAAAA3M/WLIHzoPNZRA/s400/ccreek14.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214516635403495634" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The neighbor has 2 daughters that are now off for the summer; school is out. I have been doing preparation in the back yard for the annual install of the above-ground pool, so I see into their yard along our shared fence-line. He must have asked/hired his daughters' boyfriend to power-wash his house and other light, yard work. (the little pimple-farmer doesn't look like he's good for any real work.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two days ago, I hear the power-washer start up and see the girl and her friend walking alongside the house with the washer. I think. "&lt;i&gt;Good, He's getting some work out of the boys that are sniffing around his girls.&lt;/i&gt;" The house gets a little spray as I go back to my puttering. The next time I look, they are under the deck; she is standing between his knees as he sits and his hands are &lt;i&gt;all over&lt;/i&gt; this girl. I'm thinking. "&lt;i&gt; With gas $4.00 a gallon, I can't believe he's just letting that engine run while he mates with his girlfriend.&lt;/i&gt;" I smiled and looked away, minding my own business; high school kids will always find somewhere to make out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I learned that he is a high school junior; she is only 13.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like I said, I know what I'd do...but it's not my daughter and maybe her parents know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not happy with this conundrum.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1228737225683662902-8282312738285832799?l=man-code.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/feeds/8282312738285832799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1228737225683662902&amp;postID=8282312738285832799' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/8282312738285832799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/8282312738285832799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-know-what-i-want-to-do.html' title='I Know What I &lt;i&gt;Want&lt;/i&gt; To Do...'/><author><name>Swampy-Rah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00288993755894623188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6899/2222/320/footinmouth.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/SF2vQJCXKNI/AAAAAAAAA3M/WLIHzoPNZRA/s72-c/ccreek14.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228737225683662902.post-5446799195549081002</id><published>2008-06-11T13:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T16:52:46.980-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Manual For Boys Contemplating Dating A Man's Daughter</title><content type='html'>I brought Ohana's balls home in a jar this morning, following his castration and it got me to wondering how I will behave when boys begin to sniff around my daughter in another 10 years...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've begun formulating a questionnaire to sort of '&lt;i&gt;pre-qualify&lt;/i&gt;' them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the questionnaire:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a likely scenario: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suppose that you had wronged someone, really done them bad, and you wake up in an abandoned barn with a locked 1/4" braided steel cable secured firmly around your junk and bolted to the floor, a rusty shears in your hand. Just as you begin to realize that the cable is too burly for the shears, the barn bursts into flame...&lt;br /&gt;You &lt;i&gt;will&lt;/i&gt; roast like a suckling pig if you stay there.  There is also a brazier with a red-hot piece of metal, just out of your reach, that you could use to cauterise your junk-stump, but you'd have to use the shears to get to it. &lt;br /&gt;Question: Isn't there a bus leaving for Cleveland you could be on?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scenario #2: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Detonation cord burn rate=approximately fifteen thousand feet per second to approximately twenty-three thousand feet per second, depending on pressure and other environmental variables.  Extreme caution must be used when handling detcord due to its' potential to induce significant tissue and bone trauma, ugliness and corpsification when incautiously detonated.&lt;br /&gt;note: figures representative of 50 grain PETN (pentaerythritol tetranitrate) variety.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because of the diversity of loads and bullet styles, it is hard to generalize, but the following are typical American factory loads for the .308 Winchester and are also probably representative of the majority of handloads. The 150 grain Spitzer bullet is usually loaded to a muzzle velocity (MV) of 2,820 fps and muzzle energy (ME) of 2,648 foot pounds. The figures at 200 yards are 2,263 fps and 1,705 foot pounds. These are estimates based upon averages due to different grades of propellant used in rifle cartridges and other varying conditions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Burn rate for common cannon fuze=30 seconds +/- per foot. Cannon fuze is a primary ignitor for most explosive compounds of commercial manufacture or local improvisation. Source; TM 31-210 Improvised Munitions Handbook, United States Army.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A highly motivated runner in the prime age category (17-22), according to standards of measured time used by the United States Army is capable of covering only a fraction of the a distance within the working effective engagement range of 400-600 meters. In that time a skilled marksman could cover that same distance and terrain with no significant shortage of breath.&lt;br /&gt;Question: Were you aware that certain Tibetan Monastic orders take vows of celibacy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scenario #3:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are swimming to shore from the floating dock at the beach after behaving in a generally un-gentlemanly fashion towards my daughter. Suddenly your hear the splash of oars and, upon examination find a rowboat converging upon your path and dividing your angle to the shore.&lt;br /&gt;The smiling man that pushes you away with oar is me.&lt;br /&gt;Question: How long can you tread water?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1228737225683662902-5446799195549081002?l=man-code.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/feeds/5446799195549081002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1228737225683662902&amp;postID=5446799195549081002' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/5446799195549081002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/5446799195549081002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/2008/06/manual-for-boys-contemplating-dating.html' title='Manual For Boys Contemplating Dating A Man&apos;s Daughter'/><author><name>Swampy-Rah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00288993755894623188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6899/2222/320/footinmouth.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228737225683662902.post-1939075363132178717</id><published>2008-06-07T07:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T22:45:24.248-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lick 'em While You Got 'em.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/SEqipQ1UtyI/AAAAAAAAA0Y/_3ZUOmQAhks/s1600-h/Felton,+Ohana+%237401+4-28-2008+9-51+AM+.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/SEqipQ1UtyI/AAAAAAAAA0Y/_3ZUOmQAhks/s400/Felton,+Ohana+%237401+4-28-2008+9-51+AM+.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209154748784359202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm conflicted. Ohana is going in for a neuter on Tuseday and I have the following considerations:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;B&gt;Upside:&lt;/B&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Neutered dogs live longer and have fewer issues with aggression.&lt;br /&gt;2. Ohana won't miss his nuts, or so I'm told.&lt;br /&gt;3. I could (there's still time) to purchase some &lt;a href="http://www.neuticles.com/"&gt;Neuticles&lt;/a&gt; and have them installed during the surgery.&lt;br /&gt;4. I could put them in a jar and show them to teen boys who start sniffing around my daughter in 10 years..."&lt;i&gt;See these balls, boy?&lt;/i&gt;" "&lt;i&gt;That boy sings in the choir now as a soprano.&lt;/i&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;B&gt;Downside:&lt;/B&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Ohana's man-tackle has been an excellent weather barometer, or at least thermometer; they swing when it is warm and wither up like a French soldier when it is chilly.&lt;br /&gt;2. Those balls, swinging in the open made an important statement that I endorsed, albeit vicariously about this house and my position here as regards male masculinity.&lt;br /&gt;3. Can you say 'Emasculate'?&lt;br /&gt;4. Can you say 'Gender Traitor'?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, Ohana cannot be bred due to a mildly dysplastic left hip. He'll still, always be my best bud; faithful and true.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1228737225683662902-1939075363132178717?l=man-code.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/feeds/1939075363132178717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1228737225683662902&amp;postID=1939075363132178717' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/1939075363132178717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/1939075363132178717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/2008/06/lick-em-while-you-got-em.html' title='Lick &apos;em While You Got &apos;em.'/><author><name>Swampy-Rah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00288993755894623188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6899/2222/320/footinmouth.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/SEqipQ1UtyI/AAAAAAAAA0Y/_3ZUOmQAhks/s72-c/Felton,+Ohana+%237401+4-28-2008+9-51+AM+.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228737225683662902.post-1901103026912703668</id><published>2008-05-29T17:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-29T17:53:35.949-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Howard Delaney</title><content type='html'>Howard Delaney died a couple of months ago. It was a quiet passing, off the radar of public notice. My friendship with Howard was such that it took me a couple of weeks to learn about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Howard would have liked that immensely; he was old-school agency with Bill Donovan and operated in the Aegean during the greek Civil War. Howard had migrated to CIA with other talent from the army after WWII. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was, in his vernacular an "Aviation Buff" who collected warbird prints and could cite particular facts about the artist, aircaft and story behind every one of his pieces. He fussed over flight sims on his computer and clipped interesting articles which he could never again find in his condominium.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He left everything to charities in St Paul and nothing to the angry niece who showed up after his death to claim his possessions. I don't know everything but from what I knew of Howard, she'd had many years to earn exactly what she stomped away with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been thinking about closure and the measure of someone who lives in quiet dignity, but social isolation. I never got to say good-bye and his phone number is still in my cellular listing. One of these days the message, like Howard himself will be replaced by an emptiness.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1228737225683662902-1901103026912703668?l=man-code.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/feeds/1901103026912703668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1228737225683662902&amp;postID=1901103026912703668' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/1901103026912703668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/1901103026912703668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/2008/05/howard-delaney.html' title='Howard Delaney'/><author><name>Swampy-Rah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00288993755894623188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6899/2222/320/footinmouth.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228737225683662902.post-5044477326475649380</id><published>2008-05-21T05:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-21T05:51:41.665-07:00</updated><title type='text'>shot group</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;"The U.S. military said May 18 it had disciplined the sniper and removed him from Iraq after he was found to have used Islam's holy book for target practice. The copy of the Quran was found May 11 by Iraqis on a firing range in Radwaniyah, west of Baghdad, with &lt;B&gt;14 bullet holes&lt;/B&gt; in it and grafitti written on its pages.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On May 17, the top American commander in Baghdad, Maj. Gen. Jeffery Hammond, and other officers held a formal ceremony apologizing to tribal chiefs in Radwaniyah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Al-Hashemi's Iraqi Islamic Party issued a tough statement May 19 saying that apology alone was not enough and the U.S. military should impose the "severest punishment" on the Soldier to ensure others do not repeat his act."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just wonder what size the book was, the range he was firing from and if it was in the coat pocket of an Al Queda Terrorist...14 shots in a quran is pretty fair shooting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1228737225683662902-5044477326475649380?l=man-code.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/feeds/5044477326475649380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1228737225683662902&amp;postID=5044477326475649380' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/5044477326475649380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/5044477326475649380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/2008/05/shot-group.html' title='shot group'/><author><name>Swampy-Rah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00288993755894623188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6899/2222/320/footinmouth.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228737225683662902.post-2707086804698013042</id><published>2008-05-12T17:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T22:45:24.466-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mmm-Hmmm</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/SCjhdCkkhXI/AAAAAAAAAy4/-Il7q9Bn4G0/s1600-h/_MG_0112.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/SCjhdCkkhXI/AAAAAAAAAy4/-Il7q9Bn4G0/s400/_MG_0112.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199653658821952882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, baby!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1228737225683662902-2707086804698013042?l=man-code.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/feeds/2707086804698013042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1228737225683662902&amp;postID=2707086804698013042' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/2707086804698013042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/2707086804698013042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/2008/05/mmm-hmmm.html' title='Mmm-&lt;i&gt;Hmmm&lt;/i&gt;'/><author><name>Swampy-Rah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00288993755894623188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6899/2222/320/footinmouth.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/SCjhdCkkhXI/AAAAAAAAAy4/-Il7q9Bn4G0/s72-c/_MG_0112.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228737225683662902.post-5859805846216781474</id><published>2008-05-09T07:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T22:45:24.604-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Man Code, What War Movie Should I See?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/SCRc4DUNYZI/AAAAAAAAAyw/i4N4btz7fQM/s1600-h/halmoore_mic.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/SCRc4DUNYZI/AAAAAAAAAyw/i4N4btz7fQM/s400/halmoore_mic.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198381987924894098" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you want to see what the war in Vietnam meant in 1965, without the filter of the weepy little Hollywood historians like Penn, Cruise, Sheen(s), Clooney et al;  This is a terrific opportunity.  The screenplay is the faithful adaptation of the book co-authored by Moore and Joe Galloway, who was a UPI correspondent on the ground at Ia Drang with 1/7 CAV.  Imagine, a war film by warriors who spent time there with a rifle in their hand…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I especially appreciated the role of CSM Basil Plumley, played by Sam Elliott.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;War Movies.  &lt;br /&gt;Psalm 42:6. Why art thou so full of heaviness, O my soul : and why art thou so disquieted within me?  &lt;br /&gt;War stories are usually cynical.  Soldiers are cynical too.  Film-making is about art, movie-making about revenue.  Nehring offers up some reviews on little-known films that he really enjoyed.  Unless you are Mel Gibson, you don’t underwrite your own big budget movies.  What do you want when you pay to see a ‘War Movie’?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was disgusted by ‘Born on the 4th of July’.  Life’s a bitch and her pre-nup has a lot of fine print.  The message in that film is the socialization of boys to become soldiers/Marines and the effects on the men they become.  Ron Kovic has his demons like a lot of us.  Psychology and Psychiatry may never catch up to the needs of combat veterans; why should Hollywood understand them any better? The combat soldier is not an alien from beyond the Still-A-Planet, Pluto, just someone with experiences that are outside your frame of reference if you wear soft Italian leather, smoke Gauloises in a Rodeo Drive coffeehouse and have your little set of followers to reassure you and pet your hair when you wake, sweating in the dark, afraid of other men.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To answer my own question, you probably expect some heroism, realistic battle sequences and even a little traditional idealism.  You have had to tolerate political ideologies woven into the story that make the protagonist a troubled ‘Anti-Hero’.  Soldiers are portrayed by liberal film-makers as sub-human psychotics or junkies who beg for sympathy in old tattered fatigues.  O.K., so I'm both but see this film anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw the rushes for ‘We were soldiers once’ and took a deep breath, prepared to loathe yet another old windbag who wanted to make a buck and had to gussie-up his accomplishments from a 40 year old war.  I’ve never been happier to be wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you see this film, and you must see it, keep in mind that the LTC ‘Hal’ Moore portrayed by Mel Gibson is, if anything, an understatement of man himself.  LTC Moore was the real deal.  The soldiers you serve with are generally good at deciding if you are one of the good guys, or a BOHAS.  Troops of the 1st of the 7th Cavalry in 1965 had Moore figured for a good guy.&lt;br /&gt;This is excerpted from the prologue of ‘We Were Soldiers Once…and Young'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Ia Drang Campaign was to the Vietnam War what the terrible Spanish Civil War of the 1930's was to World War II---a dress rehearsal. The place where new tactics, techniques and weapons were tested, perfected and validated. In the Ia Drang, both sides claimed victory and both sides drew lessons, some of them dangerously deceptive, which echoed and resonated throughout the decade of bloody fighting and bitter sacrifice that was to come.&lt;br /&gt;This is about what we did, what we saw, what we suffered in a 34-day campaign in the remote Ia Drang Valley of the Central Highlands of South Vietnam in November, 1965, when we were young and confident and patriotic and our countrymen knew little and cared less about our sacrifices.    &lt;br /&gt;Hal Moore retired from the Army as a 3 Star General in 1977 with over 32 years active service. Commissioned a 2nd Lt of Infantry in 1945, he served and commanded at all levels from Platoon through Division. Highlights of his career include: &lt;br /&gt;∑ Service in the Korean War as a Company Commander and Regimental S3 (7th Div)&lt;br /&gt;∑ Service in Vietnam as a Battalion and Brigade Commander (1st Cav)&lt;br /&gt;∑ Commanding General of the 7th Inf Div in Korea&lt;br /&gt;∑ Commander of Ft Ord, CA&lt;br /&gt;∑ Service as the Deputy Chief of Staff for Personnel, Department of the Army &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After his retirement from active duty in 1977, Hal became the Executive Vice President of the Crested Butte Ski Area in Crested Butte, CO. During the '80s and early '90s, he researched and wrote a book, 'We Were Soldiers Once...and Young' with his co-author, Joe Galloway then of US News and World Report. The book covers the first major battle of the Vietnam War, the Ia Drang Battle (LZ X-ray), in which both men participated. Hal was the Battalion Commander on the ground and Joe was a UPI correspondent. The book is recognized as a classic on the Vietnam War and spent over 17 weeks on the New York Times Bestseller List.&lt;br /&gt;Most Generals have a laundry list of awards and decorations a mile long. The awards most important to Moore are:&lt;br /&gt;∑ Appointment to the Honorary Grade of Rifle Platoon Sergeant by the Sergeants-Major of the 3rd Brigade, 1st CAV in Vietnam&lt;br /&gt;∑ 2 awards of the Combat Infantryman's Badge&lt;br /&gt;∑ Distinguished Service Cross&lt;br /&gt;∑ Master Parachutist Badge&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"In thy faint slumbers I by thee have watch'd&lt;br /&gt;And heard thee murmur tales of iron wars ... "&lt;br /&gt;--Shakespeare, Henry IV, Part I&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1228737225683662902-5859805846216781474?l=man-code.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/feeds/5859805846216781474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1228737225683662902&amp;postID=5859805846216781474' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/5859805846216781474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/5859805846216781474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/2008/05/man-code-what-war-movie-should-i-see.html' title='Man Code, What War Movie Should I See?'/><author><name>Swampy-Rah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00288993755894623188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6899/2222/320/footinmouth.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/SCRc4DUNYZI/AAAAAAAAAyw/i4N4btz7fQM/s72-c/halmoore_mic.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228737225683662902.post-4038042124169849516</id><published>2008-05-03T07:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T22:45:24.680-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Am Iron Man.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/SBx6px_uPvI/AAAAAAAAAyo/ki8CPEKn6g8/s1600-h/ironman_teaser.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/SBx6px_uPvI/AAAAAAAAAyo/ki8CPEKn6g8/s400/ironman_teaser.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196162928292544242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got home at 0100, which is what happens when you go to the double-feature at the drive-in. &lt;br /&gt;It is a Marvel movie and I was not disappointed. This is the first time that's happened since Hugh Jackman was cast as Wolverine. (Sorry Scott, but I think Marvel has weak stories and popcorn characters, making it impossible to make them look any better in a movie...) Not that DC has made any of their characters translate to the big screen either:( &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iron Man fights Bullies, terrorists, Arabs and Jeff Bridges; how can I not admire him?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I rained like a cow, pissing on a flat rock. I never conceived of sitting outside in 40 degree rain and high wind to watch a movie; still, I kept thinking that this is something I might well have done if I were already in the field and happened to roadmarch past a drive-in where I could change my socks, rest my feet and lay back on my ruck while drinking coffee. I am compelled to applaud the grit of Andy and Ed as they built their shelter in the cold and rainy night, then proceed to cook hotdogs and sit outside next to my warm truck while Ohana and I reclined peacefully and listened to the movie on the truck radio. The hotdog, as interpreted by Paul, with 'The Works' was incomparable; there was something spicy on it and I got to sit in a warm truck and share it with my dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second movie was 'Drillbit Taylor' with Owen Wilson, a ne'er do well, homeless, army deserter who probably would jump the fence to sit outside and watch a movie in the rain because he had no other option. Taylor is on a quest to beg or steal enough money to fly to the Canadian wilderness and be a Canadian ne'er do well, homeless, army deserter who probably would jump the fence to sit outside and watch a movie in the rain. He takes on 3 high school freshmen who are bullied by a spoiled, emancipated senior who reminds me of a cross between that kid who hung around with Ferris, and Ed Norton. It all turns out, of course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ed and Andy knew all of the writers, directors and actors; actually, I think they know about all there is about movies,if not expedient shelter construction.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1228737225683662902-4038042124169849516?l=man-code.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/feeds/4038042124169849516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1228737225683662902&amp;postID=4038042124169849516' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/4038042124169849516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/4038042124169849516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-am-iron-man.html' title='I Am Iron Man.'/><author><name>Swampy-Rah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00288993755894623188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6899/2222/320/footinmouth.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/SBx6px_uPvI/AAAAAAAAAyo/ki8CPEKn6g8/s72-c/ironman_teaser.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228737225683662902.post-2955490060328664178</id><published>2008-04-24T09:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-24T09:41:54.138-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blue Oyster Cult knew about PTSD</title><content type='html'>VETERAN OF THE PSYCHIC WARS&lt;br /&gt;By Eric Bloom, Michael Moorcock&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;You see me now, a veteran of a thousand psychic wars&lt;br /&gt;I've been living on the edge so long&lt;br /&gt;Where the winds of limbo roar&lt;br /&gt;And I'm young enough to look at&lt;br /&gt;And far to old to see;&lt;br /&gt;All the scars are on the inside&lt;br /&gt;And I'm not sure if there's anything left of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CHORUS:&lt;br /&gt;Don't let these shakes go on&lt;br /&gt;It's time we had a break from it&lt;br /&gt;It's time we had some leave&lt;br /&gt;We've been living in the flames&lt;br /&gt;We've been eating up our brains&lt;br /&gt;Oh, please don't let these shakes go on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You ask me why I'm weary&lt;br /&gt;Why I can't speak to you&lt;br /&gt;You blame me for my silence&lt;br /&gt;Say it's time I changed and grew&lt;br /&gt;But the war's still going on dear,&lt;br /&gt;And there's no end that I know&lt;br /&gt;And I can't say if we're ever, ever gonna be free&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(CHORUS)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(GUITAR SOLO)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see me now, a vetaran of a thousand psychic wars&lt;br /&gt;My energy is spent at last&lt;br /&gt;And my armor is destroyed&lt;br /&gt;I have used up all my weapons&lt;br /&gt;And I'm helpless and bereaved&lt;br /&gt;Wounds are all I'm made of&lt;br /&gt;And did I hear you say that this is victory ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CHORUS:&lt;br /&gt;Don't let these shakes go on&lt;br /&gt;It's time we had a break from it&lt;br /&gt;Send me to the rear&lt;br /&gt;Where the tides of madness swell&lt;br /&gt;And been sliding into hell&lt;br /&gt;Oh, please don't let these shakes go on&lt;br /&gt;Don't let these shakes go on&lt;br /&gt;Don't let these shakes go on&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;B&gt;This is not, in any way, a commentary on the War On Terror&lt;/B&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Men do what we see needs done when not everyone can arrive at a touchy-feeley concensus and sometimes the cost is more than the market will bear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John Stuart Mill, in his essay "The Contest in America" observed:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;War is an ugly thing, but not the ugliest of things: the decayed and degraded state of moral and patriotic feeling which thinks that nothing is worth a war, is much worse. When a people are used as mere human instruments for firing cannon or thrusting bayonets, in the service and for the selfish purposes of a master, such war degrades a people. A war to protect other human beings against tyrannical injustice; a war to give victory to their own ideas of right and good, and which is their own war, carried on for an honest purpose by their free choice, — is often the means of their regeneration. A man who has nothing which he is willing to fight for, nothing which he cares more about than he does about his personal safety, is a miserable creature who has no chance of being free, unless made and kept so by the exertions of better men than himself. As long as justice and injustice have not terminated their ever-renewing fight for ascendancy in the affairs of mankind, human beings must be willing, when need is, to do battle for the one against the other.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will we, as a society understand the price being willingly paid by our troops? Can we grasp this, in the moral vacuum of relativism inherent in the Marxist philosophy of our universities and public institutions? I do not believe so. When the good of the individual is not supported, but subverted by each act of public policy heaped upon us in the interest of the majority welfare, then the concept of 'The Individual' as recognized by the founders as being central to the value and sanctity of life is effectively abolished. God did not create us to be part of an amorphous identity; we are to be accountable as individuals and this through a personal relationship, one-on-one with God in the Person of Jesus Christ. This is the meaning of life; this, the purpose of existence that cannot and need not be explained to a cow, regardless of eloquence or volume, but must be communicated to men if we are faithful to Kingdom mandate.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1228737225683662902-2955490060328664178?l=man-code.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/feeds/2955490060328664178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1228737225683662902&amp;postID=2955490060328664178' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/2955490060328664178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/2955490060328664178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/2008/04/blue-oyster-cult-knew-about-ptsd.html' title='Blue Oyster Cult knew about PTSD'/><author><name>Swampy-Rah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00288993755894623188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6899/2222/320/footinmouth.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228737225683662902.post-1253753682161978813</id><published>2008-04-23T16:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T22:45:24.887-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Man-lunch</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/SA_mfB_uPrI/AAAAAAAAAyI/celhcrvppmI/s1600-h/IMG_7773.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/SA_mfB_uPrI/AAAAAAAAAyI/celhcrvppmI/s400/IMG_7773.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192622316167511730" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Double-decker peanut butter and banana sandwich. In a word, yum.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1228737225683662902-1253753682161978813?l=man-code.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/feeds/1253753682161978813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1228737225683662902&amp;postID=1253753682161978813' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/1253753682161978813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/1253753682161978813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/2008/04/man-lunch.html' title='Man-lunch'/><author><name>Swampy-Rah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00288993755894623188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6899/2222/320/footinmouth.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/SA_mfB_uPrI/AAAAAAAAAyI/celhcrvppmI/s72-c/IMG_7773.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228737225683662902.post-7987727263032730105</id><published>2008-04-12T09:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-12T09:25:35.863-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Boy Scout Motto: Be Prepared.</title><content type='html'>Swampy's Survival tip #42: What to do when attacked by Carniverous Lizards of Unusual Size&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;step 1: Un-sheathing your knife, hold it at your side, sharp edge away from your body. If you haven't a knife -shame on you- grasp your hairbrush firmly in your hand and step on the head while twisting and pulling the handle. This should give you a jagged and pointed edge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;step 2: Curl the fingers of the hand not holding the knife and extend that arm toward the Carniverous Lizard and assume a crouch as you prepare your lunge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;step 3: Sprint toward the Carniverous Lizard while yelling "Kristi for President!" This will cause the Carniverous Lizards' mouth to drop open, allowing you to dive past the poisonous teeth and directly into the moist gullet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;step 4: Move quickly down the slippery maw, making your way to the stomach. Once inside the stomach, stab into and through the skin. You will have to wedge and wiggle the point of the blade to get past the scales. Lift and slice an opening large enough to allow your passage. Before you emerge, secure a firm grip on as much of the entrails as possible. Slide from the opening you have created and pull the entrails with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point, any other Carniverous Lizards of Unusual Size will attack the injured lizard until they have all been killed or wounded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;step 5: While skinning the lizards, make sure you avoid the poison glands located in the head and neck; the remainder of the meat is both nutritious and tasty when cooked with some garlic and white wine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Swampy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1228737225683662902-7987727263032730105?l=man-code.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/feeds/7987727263032730105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1228737225683662902&amp;postID=7987727263032730105' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/7987727263032730105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/7987727263032730105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/2008/04/boy-scout-motto-be-prepared.html' title='The Boy Scout Motto: &lt;i&gt;Be Prepared.&lt;/i&gt;'/><author><name>Swampy-Rah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00288993755894623188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6899/2222/320/footinmouth.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228737225683662902.post-2693802922208638583</id><published>2008-03-31T13:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T22:45:25.010-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Important Safety Tip</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/R_FJp7LpLzI/AAAAAAAAAwU/44O3XgGT92M/s1600-h/20030209+Gord+Black+Eye.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/R_FJp7LpLzI/AAAAAAAAAwU/44O3XgGT92M/s320/20030209+Gord+Black+Eye.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184005630690144050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When telling someone that your wife was gone for the weekend, to '&lt;i&gt;Horse-school&lt;/i&gt;' and your wife is standing there listening, make sure that you say '&lt;i&gt;Horse&lt;/i&gt;' and '&lt;i&gt;School&lt;/i&gt;' as separate words.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1228737225683662902-2693802922208638583?l=man-code.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/feeds/2693802922208638583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1228737225683662902&amp;postID=2693802922208638583' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/2693802922208638583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/2693802922208638583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/2008/03/important-safety-tip.html' title='Important Safety Tip'/><author><name>Swampy-Rah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00288993755894623188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6899/2222/320/footinmouth.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/R_FJp7LpLzI/AAAAAAAAAwU/44O3XgGT92M/s72-c/20030209+Gord+Black+Eye.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228737225683662902.post-7508105282555267706</id><published>2008-03-27T14:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-27T14:53:34.091-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Of Men and Their Dogs</title><content type='html'>I had to have Grace, my first RRidgie put to sleep because she developed a spinal neuropathy that made it so that she could not keep her hind-end from falling over. She was otherwise perfectly healthy. Because it was worse some days, the day before we had her euthanasia scheduled she seemed pretty okay; Cheryl and I could tell that she wanted to be released from her struggle, so it was an obligation to her faithfulness of 9 years to set my own selfish desire aside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I struggle and second-guess myself? I still do today but I am confident that holding on to her would have been cruel and childish. I have missed her every day. It was still the right thing to do, &lt;i&gt;for her&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Letting Grace go was the hardest thing I have ever done and the most painful; I would cut off any of my own fingers for another year with her. We buried her in my friends' back acreage; She meant enough to him that he dug the grave himself. I cried for a couple of days. I could cry now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is this hold that our dogs have on us? The dog gives without reserving any of its' own self-interest; it is totally invested in you. Nothing on earth offers us that level of trust and so, deserves the very best loyalty that we can summon from our otherwise scoundrel pathology. The faithfulness of your dog never wanes; it never loses its' enthusiasm for your presence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess the fact that we cannot ever achieve that level of focused commitment makes us admire our dog more than our hearts are capable of protecting us from abject misery when they are torn from our life. It is so much more so when the hand that does it is our own. Grace and Dixie, Terra, Dolly, Daisy... they are irreplaceable and so our suffering at their loss is implacable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel your pain, Derrick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;'Tis better to have loved and lost Than never to have loved at all.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alfred Lord Tennyson&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1228737225683662902-7508105282555267706?l=man-code.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/feeds/7508105282555267706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1228737225683662902&amp;postID=7508105282555267706' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/7508105282555267706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/7508105282555267706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/2008/03/of-men-and-their-dogs.html' title='Of Men and Their Dogs'/><author><name>Swampy-Rah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00288993755894623188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6899/2222/320/footinmouth.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228737225683662902.post-4575731663673366480</id><published>2008-03-19T06:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T22:45:25.237-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Of Men and Their Caves</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/R-EqU0bCb1I/AAAAAAAAAvk/F5Kzv9dA7Wg/s1600-h/Photo+Library+-+0835.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/R-EqU0bCb1I/AAAAAAAAAvk/F5Kzv9dA7Wg/s400/Photo+Library+-+0835.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179467583610580818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Long overdue, this post is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are a member of the gentler gender you may quail at the site of the '&lt;i&gt;Man-Cave&lt;/i&gt;' where there is seemingly no order except for the uniformity of the dust depth. Take comfort in the knowledge that this is a facet of the masculine creature; where James Fenimore Cooper's Natty Bumpoe would say a man could live '&lt;i&gt;according to his natur&lt;/i&gt;'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look at my own cave and, despite the disorder there is a place for every dog; a sufficiency of electrical outlets; convenient sources of ignition; a fridge replete with beer and chilled pint-glasses; evidence of my habitation and of course, my world-wide-web eye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This bear den is no more kid-safe than it is adult-safe; the electrical service panel is exposed; there are guns and ammo I can get to; knives, a bow and many arrows, easily improvised bludgeons, controversial writings and literature, a microscope, bones, feathers, rocks and shiny things, incomplete projects and sketched theorum; a mace from the middle-ages and of course, my own poison pen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Life as a struggle&lt;/i&gt; is the allusory drawn in it's chaos of form; the dramatic anti-order. The dweller depicted in the string theory that is implied by the distant, elusive common theme: This is 'Me' as reflected in a shattered mirror of the things I ran back in my burning life to save.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grant the man his cave and rejoice that it is there to serve him as refuge. Throw food in there once in a while and re-stock the fridge or cold window ledge when you venture in to pick up the dirty plates and cups half full of moldy coffee. The more sanctuary he is allowed the safer he feels to emerge and pick up his underwear and socks; make sandwiches for, and bathe the children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His cave is not a place to watch TV or sleep but a hollow place that echoes his unspoken voice. In that sense, it is 'usable space'. It grounds me and allows me the tactile connection to the places, people and events that form my past and shape my present.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1228737225683662902-4575731663673366480?l=man-code.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/feeds/4575731663673366480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1228737225683662902&amp;postID=4575731663673366480' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/4575731663673366480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/4575731663673366480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/2008/03/of-men-and-their-caves.html' title='Of Men and Their Caves'/><author><name>Swampy-Rah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00288993755894623188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6899/2222/320/footinmouth.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/R-EqU0bCb1I/AAAAAAAAAvk/F5Kzv9dA7Wg/s72-c/Photo+Library+-+0835.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228737225683662902.post-6605571693410092895</id><published>2008-02-23T09:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-23T09:23:40.612-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fun with Charlie.</title><content type='html'>From Charlie's post on &lt;i&gt;'The Minors'&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not surprisingly, &lt;a href="http://theminors1.blogspot.com/2008/02/thank-you-darwin-awards.html"&gt;I want one&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1228737225683662902-6605571693410092895?l=man-code.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/feeds/6605571693410092895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1228737225683662902&amp;postID=6605571693410092895' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/6605571693410092895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/6605571693410092895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/2008/02/fun-with-charlie.html' title='Fun with Charlie.'/><author><name>Swampy-Rah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00288993755894623188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6899/2222/320/footinmouth.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228737225683662902.post-6974581997841366735</id><published>2008-02-22T06:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T22:45:25.384-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Shooting at Critters</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/R77i7dJhViI/AAAAAAAAAus/8d4uuXjESYI/s1600-h/prairie-dog-rapture.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/R77i7dJhViI/AAAAAAAAAus/8d4uuXjESYI/s400/prairie-dog-rapture.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169818933332629026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why kill Prairie Dogs?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;Plague, Tularemia, and Monkeypox&lt;/u&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;It is worth noting that theses are diseases that the Center for Disease Control, in Atlanta has stated are transferred to humans; Okay, mostly by people shooting and skinning the prairie dogs or by keeping them as pets...  It's the fleas that the prairie dog carries that actually transmit the disease.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;Habitat sharing with cattle&lt;/u&gt;... a commercial concern:&lt;br /&gt;For the following reason, the grass in and around prairie dog colonies is lusher and sweeter; cattle and bison prefer the taste and can 'bulk-up' on the grazing-land not occupied by the colonies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prairie dogs control sagebrush, mesquite, prickly pear, and other weeds noxious to native ungulates and livestock. For example, studies show that prairie dogs consume mesquite, an invader which degrades the economic value of rangeland and makes round-ups difficult. Prairie dogs also eat grasshoppers which benefits agriculture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;Prairie Dogs are so darned &lt;i&gt;cute&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/u&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;The more cute things men shoot, the closer our wives and children will be drawn to our dogs in their absence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;Marksmanship&lt;/u&gt;: &lt;br /&gt;Nothing trains our young shooters for the skills requisite to becoming a military sniper like long-range, small, active targets.  Well, nothing both legally and morally defensible...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;Male Bonding and home-habitat-destruction&lt;/u&gt;: &lt;br /&gt;C'mon, gals; would you rather we sat on the couch in tighty-whities and drank beer while watching football?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1228737225683662902-6974581997841366735?l=man-code.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/feeds/6974581997841366735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1228737225683662902&amp;postID=6974581997841366735' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/6974581997841366735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/6974581997841366735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/2008/02/shooting-at-critters.html' title='Shooting at Critters'/><author><name>Swampy-Rah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00288993755894623188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6899/2222/320/footinmouth.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/R77i7dJhViI/AAAAAAAAAus/8d4uuXjESYI/s72-c/prairie-dog-rapture.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228737225683662902.post-881450643473641024</id><published>2008-01-15T05:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-15T05:54:46.036-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Defense From Frontal Assault Part 1</title><content type='html'>You are out in public, minding your own business; suddenly you find your way obstructed by a man who extends his arm and grasps your shirt by the shoulder or neck. As a 'Man' his father should have taught him better. As a man; it now falls to you to conduct an &lt;i&gt;'On The Spot Correction'&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is wholly appropriate to remind him that his behavior is inappropriate; something calm and polite like this: &lt;i&gt;"That's not very nice, please remove your hand."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He now has all the information he should need to adjust his own behavior. He will 1. Remove his hand, straighten your clothing and ask forgiveness for his gaffe, or 2. Escalate the confrontation, giving you legal recourse to continue with the corrective action.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Step One: Presuming that it is his right hand on you, reach over his hand with your left hand, grasping around the top of his hand with your fingers and placing your thumb just between his thumb and the break of his wrist. Squeeze his hand between your thumb and fingers as you twist his thumb down in a counter-clockwise motion. This must be done as quickly as you are comfortable moving. As his arm bends at the elbow, smash your right forearm into the break of his elbow, driving his captured wrist toward a spot roughly six inches out from his shoulder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have now begun to move his balance point over and away from his center of gravity as your right forearm moves deep into the break of his elbow.  The momentum of this move will cause you both to fall; him onto the ground and you onto him. If you can visualize this, since there is no safe way to practice it, you will realize that one more piece is desirable to fully protect yourself; as you began to push his arm over, shift your weight to your left leg and step behind his right leg, wrapping your leg around his.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you both fall, the weight of your body will cause the following musculo-skeletal injuries:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Sprained or broken wrist&lt;br /&gt;2. Hyper-extended or dislocated elbow&lt;br /&gt;3. Hyper-extended or dislocated knee&lt;br /&gt;3. Concussion to his brain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The entire encounter should only last about 10 seconds. Your fall will be broken as his body absorbs the energy and you will likely not even get dirty unless you remain to render assistance and have to kneel on the ground to review his lapse in manners.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1228737225683662902-881450643473641024?l=man-code.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/feeds/881450643473641024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1228737225683662902&amp;postID=881450643473641024' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/881450643473641024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/881450643473641024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/2008/01/defense-from-frontal-assault-part-1.html' title='Defense From Frontal Assault Part 1'/><author><name>Swampy-Rah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00288993755894623188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6899/2222/320/footinmouth.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228737225683662902.post-5468123822901227288</id><published>2007-12-09T05:13:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T22:45:25.547-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Is The Inside Cream Filling, or Grit?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/R1vqfBJi-WI/AAAAAAAAAog/kklWy5VkjEg/s1600-h/June+17+06+026.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/R1vqfBJi-WI/AAAAAAAAAog/kklWy5VkjEg/s320/June+17+06+026.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5141961218178873698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day, the conversation turned to 'The character of men v. Man's &lt;i&gt;portrayed&lt;/i&gt; character; that is to say &lt;i&gt;is the person reflected in the character they portray on the screen and in public&lt;/i&gt;  &lt;B&gt;This picture&lt;/B&gt; reminds me of Charles Bronson's character in 'Hard Times' but I really only hope that Bronson was the stand-up-hard-guy he played in movies; I don't want to know if he wasn't because part of my socialisation, as a boy was based upon such ideals as the gun-fighter in 'The Magnificent Seven', the melon farmer in 'Mr. Majestyk', the sleeper agent in 'Telefon', the fugitive from injustice in 'Death Hunt', the prisoner of conscience who survives in 'The Dirty Dozen' and the indignant father in 'Death Wish'.  There are a great many iconic man-figures in literature who represent our best at their worst; in 'Orthodoxy' G.K. Chesterton described the hero of a story in classic literature as "a sane man set in an insane world.." and in modern literature the hero, he perceived as being "an insane man in a sane world.."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The oldest surviving fictional text is 'Beowulf', a tale now being treated by the film industry. In the tale, Beowulf is the hero whose community is beset by a monster named 'Grendl', whom Beowulf overcomes in battle.  The original intent of this story was not to reflect an inner struggle in the heart of man with his evil deprecatious nature, but instead was purported to be anecdotal. Beowulf was, in every noble set, a man we would want around when we're wrongly accused of cheating at cards by a bitter cowpoke with a pistol.  Yes, I'm talking about Robert Redford's character, 'The Sundance Kid'.  Redford likes to play the 'anti-hero', the bad guy who has his flaws but does good things anyway or bad things that can be rationalised.  I like 'Jeremiah Johnson' as one of the top films of all time but I am not in the circle of people who would want to sit down with Redford for coffee or beers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too many heroic characters being played by real-life scoundrels.  When we see someone we like on the big screen, do we transfer our admiration for their character to the actor?  If so, we have to step back a pace or two and consider how much we allow this person to influence our public behavior and the way that this characterises us, as Christ followers.  You, as a man, could scarcely go wrong with the model of Jimmy Stewart; a Brigadier General in the US Army Air Corps because he let his hiney hang out in B-17 missions over Germany.  John Wayne was a dust-up cowboy actor who wanted to fight in WWII but John Ford would convince him that he could accomplish more for America by setting examples for boys and young men instead.  John Wayne did what most in his place should do; he supported the military to the extent that he could.  In the US Army JFK Special Warfare Museum on Ft Bragg, NC is a check that he wrote to establish the museum and a letter to the soldiers and officers of the US Special Forces that expresses his admiration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, well. So I was thinking; our sons will see what we do.  They will see what we don't do.  Most important is the idea that we ought not allow these little guys to be presented someone elses' concepts of virtue vis-a-vis manliness and all it's facets; Yoda is not Jesus Christ and dad asking his son to hand him wrenches while he fixes the sink will soon find that a wrench is more influential to his son than a lightsaber.  Yep. In closing, one final thought; those things that we do, as men that we think our sons do not see us doing are played out in our character every day.  The way that he interprets what a man should be has everything to do with how his dad shows him it's done.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1228737225683662902-5468123822901227288?l=man-code.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/feeds/5468123822901227288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1228737225683662902&amp;postID=5468123822901227288' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/5468123822901227288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/5468123822901227288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/2007/12/is-inside-cream-filling-or-grit.html' title='Is The Inside Cream Filling, or &lt;i&gt;Grit&lt;/i&gt;?'/><author><name>Swampy-Rah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00288993755894623188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6899/2222/320/footinmouth.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/R1vqfBJi-WI/AAAAAAAAAog/kklWy5VkjEg/s72-c/June+17+06+026.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228737225683662902.post-4911657369291151578</id><published>2007-12-08T13:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-08T15:03:31.256-08:00</updated><title type='text'>And So In No Particular Order The Man Code</title><content type='html'>The Man Code. Chapter IV. Explosives and Men&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part A--General Provisions&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;§. 1. From the first time a man farted too near a fire, explosions have dominated a persistent 11% of all man-brain function. Aging has a demonstrated inverse causational effect upon this fascination as ever increased complexity, brightness, concussion and duration are required to stimulate the genetically alloted capacity of man's cerebral cortex. This is in measured contrast to the  tested .003% of a woman's brain&lt;sup&gt;1&lt;/sup&gt;, committed to demolitions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part B--Demolitions Related Periphery&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;§. 1. Cannon Fuze, Det(onation) Cord, Blasting Caps;&lt;br /&gt;§§. 1. Actions Upon Encountering Demolitions Materiel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;c.1. Any man happening upon one or more of these items in it's functional state is under the compunction to remove himself from the immediate vicinity to any safe distance&lt;sup&gt;2&lt;/sup&gt; until such time as he and/or his 'Buds' can determine whether he might safely remove and store the items in his Truck&lt;sup&gt;3&lt;/sup&gt;, Garage&lt;sup&gt;4&lt;/sup&gt;, Shed&lt;sup&gt;5&lt;/sup&gt; or Tackle Box&lt;sup&gt;6&lt;/sup&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;c.2. He must never knowingly allow his Wife&lt;sup&gt;7&lt;/sup&gt; to become aware of his possession of these articles until he can safely&lt;sup&gt;8&lt;/sup&gt; deploy them in the course of entertaining his children, Neighborhood Men (see 'Buds') and Dogs with the intent of the invocation of awe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;sup&gt;1&lt;/sup&gt; data is applicable only on the 4th of July; based upon control group study ( accuracy +/- .003%)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;sup&gt;2&lt;/sup&gt; any wood-pile, tree, ditch, station wagon or hillock&lt;br /&gt;&lt;sup&gt;3&lt;/sup&gt; any 4-wheel drive, personal conveyance capable of transporting dogs, guns, fishing gear, and not more than 1 'Bud' unless designated as 'Crew-cab' or 2-wheel drive designated as 'Pick-up'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;sup&gt;4&lt;/sup&gt; any structure attached or detached to a man's domecile of which the primary function is, or originally was the storage of automobiles or trucks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;sup&gt;5&lt;/sup&gt; any structure annexed to the domecile, not designated as a 'Garage'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;sup&gt;6&lt;/sup&gt; a hand-portable container designed or improvised to carry the necessary hooks, line, jigs, spoons, lures, baits, weights, tools with which to attract and catch those scaly bastards and expired regulations governing said practice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;sup&gt;7&lt;/sup&gt; long-suffering sole designated and lawful partner to a man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;sup&gt;8&lt;/sup&gt; any amusing antic which does not &lt;i&gt;unintentionally&lt;/i&gt; ignite structures and or motor vehicles, meaningfully menace or cause irreparable emotional trauma to children or dogs, immolate landscaping (herein construed to include more than 20% of total lawn) or cause physical damage to self which does not elicit responses of 'Cool', or 'awesome' when examined in normal illumination conditions.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1228737225683662902-4911657369291151578?l=man-code.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/feeds/4911657369291151578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1228737225683662902&amp;postID=4911657369291151578' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/4911657369291151578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/4911657369291151578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/2007/12/and-so-in-no-particular-order-man-code.html' title='And So &lt;i&gt;In No Particular Order&lt;/i&gt; The Man Code'/><author><name>Swampy-Rah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00288993755894623188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6899/2222/320/footinmouth.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1228737225683662902.post-6859450245402829100</id><published>2007-12-05T08:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T22:45:25.715-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Man Code</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/R1bPJxJi-VI/AAAAAAAAAoQ/YkyeFz_2rKE/s1600-h/IMG_5811.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/R1bPJxJi-VI/AAAAAAAAAoQ/YkyeFz_2rKE/s320/IMG_5811.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140523791409150290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: What's 'manly' these days?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: The same things that have always been 'manly'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Common Sense, Chivalry, Courage, Integrity, Fair Play, Dependability; these things have always been truths of men and when there is no man there to espouse these things, they will still be true.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1228737225683662902-6859450245402829100?l=man-code.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/feeds/6859450245402829100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1228737225683662902&amp;postID=6859450245402829100' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/6859450245402829100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1228737225683662902/posts/default/6859450245402829100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://man-code.blogspot.com/2007/12/man-code.html' title='The Man Code'/><author><name>Swampy-Rah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00288993755894623188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6899/2222/320/footinmouth.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MHUEIKcIzts/R1bPJxJi-VI/AAAAAAAAAoQ/YkyeFz_2rKE/s72-c/IMG_5811.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
