The Way I See It

One of the most enlightening books I’ve ever read is called “A Framework for Understanding Poverty” by Ruby Payne. In the book Payne talks extensively about the different world paradigms harbored by the poor, the middle class, and the rich. Most importantly, it talks about how the most pressing issues confronting us today are, for lack of a better term, middle class problems.

Consider two biggies: Taxes and health care. There are government services for the poor, such as Medicare and Medicade… most states have implemented supplemental healthcare programs for the poor as well. And the rich? If you had a couple million dollars in the bank, would you care that healthcare premiums just increased by 13% (average) across the nation due to Phase 1 of Obamacare? Or would you even bother paying $500 a month for health insurance if you were wealthy enough to dispatch a million-dollar illness with your checking account?

Taxes affect the middle class in much the same way as healthcare. The poor pay virtually nothing in taxes. And the rich? The Average Working Joe who uses TurboTax knows nothing about juggling offshore investment accounts in the Cayman Islands… the advantages of a Swiss bank account… or how to buy gold in Singapore and then sell it in Rome. You know you’ve arrived when your taxes are done by a law firm full of tax attorneys.

The way I see it, the pig on the bottom represents the middle class, and the pig on the top represents the government. I thought it might be helpful to put this relationship into terms that even a farmboy can understand. That’s just the way it is.

Oetzi the Iceman

The following is an excerpt from "When I was Kid, This Was a Free Country," by G. Gordon Liddy. This passage explains one quick and easy way mainstream scientists determine if the remains of ancient humans were those of a slave, or those of a free man:

“When they found the man they called ‘The Iceman’ in the Italian Alps on 19 September 1991, he had been dead an estimated five thousand years. Yet he was all there, preserved perfectly by the cold, complete with his possessions. The Iceman was not the first human found in a preserved state ages after death. In Scandinavia and England, peat bogs had yielded similar remains. Examination of the bog finds showed that the dead had been slain, some by garrote, some with a hole in their heads from a puncture wound. These men had only their clothing with them. They were captives, perhaps, or criminals who had been executed. What the bog men had in common was that they were not free.

The Iceman, by contrast, was found in possession of state-of-the-art weapons. He had a six-foot longbow, the same size used by English bowmen more than four thousand years later to defeat heavily armored French nights at the Battle of Agincourt. It was a remarkably powerful weapon when one considers that the Iceman was a mere five feet two inches tall. His ammunition was fourteen arrows held in a beautiful deerskin quiver. He had an ash-handled, flint-bladed dagger and something that astounded the experts – a nearly pure copper Remedello-style axe, something so advanced for five thousand years ago that National Geographic commented, ‘It was as if the tomb of a medieval warrior had yielded a modern rifle.’

All of which was evidence that the Iceman was a free man. Since the dawn of history, free men have been armed with the most up-to-date weapons capable of being carried by hand. Arms are the mark of a free man.”

Who You Gonna Call?

This post pertains to the latest wave of reality TV shows that feature desperate, sleazy, sex-starved housewives. Many of the housewives I've seen on TV lately dress (and act) like retired porn stars. Since I figure they probably pass the time between "Jerry Springer" and "Oprah" by reading my blog, I thought I would share a bit of information they might find interesting. On my way to work I saw a van from "Schwartz Plumbing Co." I'm sorry the photo is a little grainy. I took it with my blackberry while driving down the road, and I was laughing so hard my hand was shaking. But if any desperate housewives need someone to work on their plumbing, I suggest they call this man. He says he has a tool that can fix anything...

Retard of the Year

As you may have heard, 49-year-old Donna Sykes decided to visit her daughter Jesse at UNC-Chapel Hill and spend the night in her dorm room. Why the hell not? Jesse would be the coolest girl on campus with her mother sleeping in her dorm room. Who wouldn't want to date a girl like that?

In case you didn't see it coming, Mom rolled out of her bunk in the middle of the night -- and ended up dying of a head injury. Maybe college dorm rooms weren't designed for 49-year-olds? I have a feeling Darwin would love to comment on this issue.


UNC-CH was established in 1789, and this is the first time a retard died of a head injury while sleeping in a dorm room. Nevertheless, the university's reaction was swift and decisive: The administration is spending approximately $250,000 to outfit all 8,500 beds with safety rails... your tax dollars are hard at work.


I agree that college life has become more dangerous than it used to be. The modern "keg stand" doesn't look like a good idea to me. But I assume that sooner or later someone's mother will sustain a neck injury trying to do a keg stand at her son's fraternity party, and all kegs will be banned from campus.

Accidental Porn?

I don't know... maybe my mind's in the gutter. But this free sample mysteriously appeared in my mailbox, and I'm not sure it's appropriate to be mailing these things to people. After all, some of them might be under 18.

Maybe it's okay, but if I created a tasty new treat I don't think I would call it a "Big Nut Bar." And then there's this:

This is supposed to be a WD-40 knock off... but does it really need to be called "Lube Job Super Penetrant"? Maybe the creators were trying to go "one up" on WD-40 by suggesting that their product not only costs less, but has additional uses.

While the references above might be considered accidental porn, I'm pretty sure that the good folks at Richbrau were trying to make some sort of innuendo when they named their beer "Big Nasty Porter."

Again, maybe I'm just taking these things the wrong way and everything's completely innocent. But a "Big Nut" or a "Lube Job" or a "Big Nasty" sounds like things I would try to get if I went on a date with a hot girl. I'm looking forward to hearing what you guys think -- please post a comment and let me know if these products lead your mind in the same direction (or not).

A Great Vacation House... UNLESS...

Last fall we traveled to Boone, NC to do the usual mountain stuff. We marveled at the leaves changing color... ate some good food... did some shopping... tipped over a few cows... but none of those activities are relevant to this posting. I'm writing to pass on an important safety tip that you probably haven't considered, but may someday save your life.

I'm assuming that most of you reading this blog have invested a huge amount of time and effort preparing for the zombie invasion that is to come. If you've been slacking and your preparations are running behind schedule, shame on you! But again, that's not the point.

You may have turned your primary residence into the ultimate zombie-proof fortress, but is that really going to help you if the outbreak occurs while you're on vacation? When you're planning your weekend getaway, do you automatically book the first rental you can find? Such haste could cost you dearly. Jackhammer is warning all of you to consider the possibility, however remote, that a zombie plaque could explode and spread like wildfire when you're trying to chill away from home.

Consider, for example the lovely rustic cabin rented by my in-laws during our mountain excursion. Blissfully unaware of the potential zombie menace, the fools selected this cabin for its spectacular view and remote location. While the "remote location" aspect of this dwelling is indisputably positive, its inherent drawbacks are too severe to be overlooked. This is a frontal view of the house:

As you can probably tell, this is a three-story house build on the side of a very steep hill. The back of the house, pictured below, gives a better perspective.

As you can see, things aren't all bad. The ground falls away sharply from the rear, which would greatly slow -- but not stop -- the uncoordinated shamblings of the walking dead. And yes, there is a small bi-level deck on the rear of the house. This excited me as well, since the boards could be pulled up fairly easily if we suddenly needed wood to barricade the doors and windows.

But these final photos, below, portray the extent of our vulnerability and the cause of my concern.

In short, the house was built to allow easy ground-level access to the first and second floors. Even worse, the lip of front porch roof is only about six feet off the ground -- well within the reach of an average-sized zombie. Also, if the zombies arrive in large numbers, it would be ridiculously easy for them to "ramp up" to the nearly-flat porch rooftop -- followed by an easy stroll through the panoramic third floor windows.

A house with ground-level access on all three floors is virtually indefensible against a zombie hoard! For crying out loud, what the hell were the builders thinking? If you need any further evidence that the architect had his head up his ass, just look at the glass walls of the front vestibule, the all-glass exterior doors, and the giant picture windows lighting every single room!

I spent the whole weekend biting my tongue, agonizing over whether or not I should educate my in-laws about the clear and present danger we might be facing. Neither the loaded Glock under my pillow, nor the sharpened machete in my closet, provided any comfort in the midnight hours.

You are correct in thinking "well if he's writing this then obviously he survived the weekend." But just because the zombie outbreak didn't happen that particular weekend doesn't mean the possibility wasn't there. Like I said, it could happen at any time -- even when you're on vacation chillaxing with a 40. So why take foolish risks by renting an indefensible location? How did the Germans manage to bomb Pearl Harbor successfully? How did the World Trade Centers fall on 9/11? Because we were caught napping with our pants down, that's why.

So let's learn from our past mistakes and be prepared. Vigilance is never punished... only rewarded.

Ten Arcane Skills That Will Be Lacking After the Apocalypse (listed in order of importance)

1. Beer Brewing / Wine Making / Liquor Distilling. I’m talking about making beer, wine, and liquor from scratch. Sure, I’ve brewed a few batches of homemade beer… but I use pre-packaged, premeasured ingredient kits so that doesn’t count. I’m talking about brewing and distilling from nothing but the rawest of materials… wild wheat, barley, corn, and other grains. Moonshiners will have an advantage here…

2. Farming and Gardening. How many of us know anything about farming any more? The family farms are disappearing rapidly, replaced by mega-farms owned by corporate conglomerates. How many people under 40 know how to prepare, plant, maintain, and harvest a garden? And then “can” the produce in mason jars to eat during the winter months? My guess is less than 5 percent. Why bother when you can buy three cans of green beans for a dollar at Food Lion all year long?

3. Metalworking and Fabrication. Remember when they used to teach “metalworking” in high school? Not anymore… now we just shove the little shits behind computer keyboards. But even with guys who are reasonably handy around the house, how many of them can actually fabricate a needed part from raw metal stock? Even technical tradesmen have evolved into a “remove and replace” mindset… they run tests to find the bad component and swap out whatever failed with a new one. But what if new parts become unobtainable?

4. Gunsmithing. It should be fairly easy to find a good gunsmith in a city the size of Raleigh, right? No? What if you expand your search into to surrounding communities of Garner, Cary, Apex, etc? Maybe you know something I don’t, but the closest gunsmith I’ve found that will repair a non-functioning firearm is in Fayetteville – 90 minutes away. I’m assuming the police and other agencies that use firearms must have their own in-house gunsmith… but I submit that this skill is becoming a lost art. I guess I should also include the ability to reload spent shell casings into this category.

5. Alternative Medicine / Herbal Pharmacology. Americans are demanding free, high-quality healthcare for all, right? Well… good luck finding a skilled urologist after the apocalypse. People have become used to running to medical specialists for their every ailment… and the old-fashioned home remedies have been abandoned (even the ones that worked). How many of us know how to gather medicinal herbs in the wild, and/or administer them appropriately? Or how to set broken limbs? You get the idea.

6. Sewing. How many women under 40 know anything at all about sewing? How many college-age girls can sew a dress? My mother and grandmother used to store hundreds of patterns and sew all different kinds of clothes from whatever materials were available. The younger generation, conversely, cannot stitch torn pants, replace a zipper, or even sew on a button.

7. Butchering and Buccaneering. I think buccaneering is the right word. The original buccaneers were the dudes who smoked and dried meat to sell to sailing ships, right? But how many modern citizens know how to butcher and clean an animal? A few hunters who actually eat their prey, I suppose… not the ones who shoot deer just to cut off their antlers. But even fewer people can turn meat into jerky for long-term storage.

8. Orienteering. This was actually a PE class at my university, and I’ve always wished that I had taken it when I had the chance. How many of us can navigate across vast tracts of wilderness? If you think you can because you have a road map and a GPS, you’d better think again. The roads will be impassible with abandoned cars…bridges and tunnels blown… gasoline and GPS batteries unattainable… so your AAA map isn’t going to be much help. I’m talking old-school navigation here. Look at the sun, the stars, the planet Venus (which is visible even in daylight)… maybe even learn how to use that old thingy… what’s it called? Oh – a compass!

9. Barter and Trade. This is a closely guarded secret, but I might as well let the cat out of the bag since the end is near: the money in your wallet hasn’t really been worth anything since 1933 when the United States government abandoned the gold standard. Our modern currency only buys us things because, in our minds only, it is somehow worth more than the paper it’s printed on. But after the apocalypse people will see “floated” money for what it really is… so barter and trade will form the basis of post-apocalyptic commerce. But this too is a lost art… I’ve practiced it at the car dealership a few times, but nowhere else.

10. Archery / Snaring / Trapping / Fishing. In this broad category I’m going to place every way that man ventures into the wild and secures protein without modern luxuries, like firearms and ammunition. Sure, you can shoot a rabbit… but can you set a snare line and trap them? Can you dig a bear pit that works? Can you fashion a fishing pole from an old tree branch and dig grubs as bait?

Again, these skills were once commonly known among the American people… the same Americans who baked pies from scratch, repaired their own cars, and even made their own lye soap. The end of the world is approaching once again (in 2012 this time). Better learn these skills now while you still can.