Back at the keyboard, I am…

Some have said that they missed my musings. Here's one I wrote as a part of my life story, "Black and White,and other ways to think that got me in and out of trouble". I can't remember now how accurate the numbers are. They are impressive though, so why not believe them?

 The Phantom is capable of going straight up, for some time. It’s not as powerful as some of the birds of this modern day, but to be able to fly in something that literally took your breath away the first time you ever flew it, was something. When I was an I.P. at George AFB, everything always started out  with that introductory ride when the new student was given the stick for the first time. Granted, he had been in the simulator for his mandatory four or five “transition rides” - general airplane stuff, instruments, emergencies, etc. He had some idea of the capabilities of the plane, but when you sit down in the actual, good smelling, slightly awkward fitting cockpit for the first time you are in awe. Of course the engines start without incident (they never do in the simulator!) and that gives you a feeling that there may be a future in this business.

A side note. After simulator training, with all of the emergencies and stuff being thrown at you constantly from beginning to end of the session, it seems almost surreal to sit in the real plane and just start the engines and taxi without something happening. You are so primed for emergency procedures that normal stuff seems like a piece of cake. Maybe that’s what they ‘re thinking about when they made the training syllabus!

 Anyway, the worse thing that can happen on one of these first rides is that you think you need more power than you do to taxi, and soon you’re going thirty miles an hour or something down the taxi way. While you’re taxiing, you kind of melt into the airplane and begin to use the bird for what you want. It can become (with time) an extension of your will and in the best of times, actual manipulation of the controls is never considered. (“Go with the force, Luke!”) Again, I digress.

SO you have this newbie (other names often used, but I've been told that families read this stuff) on his first ride and your ready for take off in this airplane that has more thrust than weight (think about it). So you run up the engines, get a final OK from the tower and slam the throttles up to one hundred percent (no worries about over temping with the new fuel control mechanism), release the brakes and as soon as you begin to roll, push past the slight detent on the throttle track and mash the levers home. Goodness, that’s a strange way of putting it, wouldn’t you say? Anyway, don’t hurt your knuckles on the firewall as you go into full burner. By the time you’ve even thought of this, you’re at eighty knots and trying to remember to let go on nose wheel steering. Pull the stick full aft and wait (not long) for the airplane to take off.  It seems like you are immediately airborne and accelerating at an unimaginable rate (remember, this is 1964). OK, next thing is to retract the gear before you go over the limit speed of something near two hundred and twenty or so and get the flaps up, if you’ve used them. The Phantom was able to make an immelmann turn (a one hundred eighty degree vertical maneuver) at takeoff in this clean configuration. This was something that seemed to please all enlisted personnel and officers, Captain and below, but really pissed off those who were Majors and above. Must have something to do with staff briefings, or something. Anyway, the reason I’m belaboring all of this is because the guy on his first ride is still back there, thinking about releasing the brakes.

On the mach two run demonstration we’d do, we just climbed the airplane out at full burner and go as high you’d like within the tactical area limitations, then at about forty thousand or so (as I recall), we’d be over Ft Irwin and head for Edwards Air Force Base, all the while in burner. You let the airplane descend ever so slightly and you’d be at mach 1.6 accelerating. At mach 1.8, things slowed down a bit in terms of acceleration, but then the variable air inlet ramp would start its programmed movement to adjust the intake air to the engines and boom, boom (literally) you’d be at mach two, plus. You could observe the shock wave moving back across the canopy and skin of the plane. When it got to the static port which controlled the intakes, they would begin to close, somehow decreasing drag and increasing thrust, I guess. There was little sensation of going so fast. You were high up and the ground didn’t whizz by nearly as fast as when you were at one hundred feet or so at a mere five hundred knots. The only thing that whizzed was the ground speed indicator - maybe sixteen hundred and the DME of the Edwards TACAN.

One of the goals of the hop was to demonstrate what’s know as “Q force” and its presence at high speeds. You wouldn’t want to be able to move control surfaces quickly or to  full deflection, you’d tear the airplane apart. There was a pitot based limiter that prevented ham fisted pilots from killing themselves at high speeds like this. The student was told to put the airplane in a sixty degree banked turn and pull as hard as he could. No one was strong enough to make a tight turn. It was a good demonstration, the turn radius at that speed was probably twenty miles or more. One time, a young stud of mine used only thirty degrees of bank in the turn and most of that energy was converted to altitude. This is not a good thing when you’re already at forty thousand or more, and you don’t have an astronaut’s suit on. You do learn though, that speed equals altitude and altitude equals speed. There is energy in every flight condition and the idea is to learn how to manipulate this energy so you get what you want when and where you want it. All this to say that it works in Phantoms and it works in Boeing 737’s.

Oldies

Dancin' Soldiers!

The dancing isn't so hot, but it is interesting to look at the scenery around these heroes. Lots of little kids, all boys. How different is that society from ours in the way we raise our children.

Palestinians Want This Video Removed…

Sums things up nicely, don't you think? The audio begins at about 1:30. Be patient - ;-)

…and I don't even watch the "Daily Show"!

Maybe I should start.

The Daily Show - Indecision 2012 - Corn Polled Edition - Ron Paul & the Top Tier
Get More: Daily Show Full Episodes,Political Humor & Satire Blog,The Daily Show on Facebook

How To Talk To The President

Prime Minister Netanyahu knows how.



Look at President Obama's body language - is he pissed, or what?

The Junior Senator From Kentucky

How can anyone disagree? Mental illness?

In Honor of Earth Day

Something from Neptunus Lex…

The Collings Foundation's F-100F Super Sabre from INVERSION on Vimeo.

The Collings Foundation’s F-100F Super Sabre from INVERSION on Vimeo.

Col. Day had 5000 hours in his log book, and 4500 of them in fighters before he volunteered for combt duty in Vietnam. He stood up the first “Fast FAC” squadron to fly high risk forward air control missions, and was shot down on his 65th sortie up north. Badly injured in the ejection, he nevertheless managed to evade his captors and cross the DMZ back in to South Vietnam, becoming the only American POW to escape from North Vietnam. Recaptured by Viet Kong just miles from a US base, Col. Day spent five years and seven months as a guest of the Hanoi regime, who broke his body but not his spirit.

He is the only person ever to have been awarded both the Medal of Honor and the Air Force Cross.

I hope you enjoyed the flight, colonel. And a tip o’ the tam to the Collings Foundation for setting it up.

The Bible States It Clearly - There Will Never Be Peace

Here's another video (2 in a day!) that depicts the insightful world view of some of those of those who follow allah, the moon god.

Christians Don't Believe That The Bible is God's Word?

Here's another looney look at someone who passes for an expert talking about what Christian people believe. Then the American Family Association spokesman clears it all up. A good use of your time, IMHO.

Happy Dead Irish Saint's Day

Some more numbers…

Here are some facts as to what sex without consequence is costing the United States. These figures should be overwhelming to us. They are an affront to God. Killing some of our most innocent citizens in this fashion is beyond what a civilized nation should be about. God's Word tells us,

"And it happened, when Elizabeth heard the greeting of Mary, that the babe leaped in her womb;…" (Luke 1:41)

So much for the definition of a unborn child as being a mere blob of tissue, without feeling.

Paul's letter to the Galatians says, "Do not be deceived, God is not mocked; for whatever a man sows, that he will also reap." (6:7)

Stirring the Middle Eastern Pot

Some Interesting Figures to Ponder

Click on the Header to see the article.

And here is a link to follow a thread of considered opinion… (copy and paste)

http://www.neptunuslex.com/2011/02/28/one-chart/comment-page-1/#comment-693406

Response to Wisconsin Teachers' Union

Mystery solved…

It should have been easy to understand what happened at last Saturday's Gators game with the LSU people. It wasn't, until I researched further. Being an expert, like those seated around me during the game, I am constantly looking for a rationale which explains the performance on the field. I have come up with two reasonable ideas which take away the lingering pain of a 33-29 final score.
First. I had been transported to an alternate version of my former universe (see "Fringe", Fox Network). This seems to fit because I did mention in the previous column my eerie bodily sensations as I walked through the darkened section six tunnel entrance and into the almost other worldly, brilliantly lit stadium interior. The players down on the field at that very time were revealed to me to be different somehow. Executing, as they warmed up, some of our regular plays and looking every bit like those they represented in my former macrocosm, there was something which wasn't quite right. The thing that unveiled the otherworldly place I found myself in was the uniforms the players were wearing. During the instantaneous transworldifying experience in the tunnel, my old world became new. Identical except for one thing, the spectrum of light. The laws of physics had not been identically duplicated. The orange had gone and in its place was something of a yellow ochre, maybe with a little cadmium red. The simple orange of orange and blue fame had vanished. That's how I know the men on the field were not those upon whom we rested our hope for SEC glory. That's how I know it wasn't really the Gators I watched that night.
OK, second.
The horrid hue of orange used for the uniforms that night was accursed. The odious choice brought doom upon the beloved Gator Nation for that night's competition. It was Emmitt Orange night. They had reverted back to a color worn by beloved Emmitt Smith. They had chosen the color of failure and defeat and it worked. The team failed. The coaching failed. The game was irretrievably gone. Take your pick. These two scenarios fit correctly with everybody else's depiction of an evening gone bad.
The one and only good thing I heard after the game came from Tre Burton. He was asked by a radio commentator on one of those talk show format, game recap programs about his touchdown. He said, "It doesn't matter, we lost!" Priceless.

The Next to Last Sports Column…

I really shouldn't deign to write a column in this blog that has mainly to do with sports. But I will. It could be fun to write, 'cuz it will help me get a few left over bits of angst out in the open, and it could be amusing (for me, maybe you). There will be two blog entries.

I led a secluded, introverted youth. I know I developed into someone who was, is, a loner of sorts - in a good way, I hope. Loners work well in fighters and sometimes they even have the lucky circumstance to marry someone who loves 'em. That being said, I married a girl who was born into a group of people who live in a region who for the period from the autumnal equinox to the winter solstice bleed blue and orange. After forty-five years, Jeanie and I are beginning to look alike and I bleed blue and orange.

What is it about a seventy-two year old man who gets chills down his spine and goosebumps in all the other places as he walks through a darkened tunnel and into a brilliantly lit stadium? Proceeding through gate six and down to row sixteen, I sit down with ninety thousand others who bleed blue and orange, we await the start of the contest.

When I went to Washington University in Saint Louis, I majored mostly in AFROTC and Budweiser. Strangely, I can't remember ever going to a football game on a Saturday afternoon. I liked football in high school and attended most every game. Something happened I guess when we moved east in 1956. I'm making up for lost time and making memories now. It's never too late. There's never been a better time or place to get interested in college football.

Last night Jeanie and I were privileged to attend the University of Florida Gators football contest with those horrid folks from the Louisiana Purchased lands. LSU. My gosh, they bleed purple, how sick is that? The game was probably one of the more exciting I have watched (my second in person). We lost. I've discovered that if you are to be a Florida Gators football fan you need to be pretty expert in the game. I know those who were sitting around Jeanie, Becky, Larry and me, were. You can tell that the entire swamp is filled with experts. That's really good, because if one of those millionaire coaches down on the field were to croak, there'd be plenty of folks who could take over - instantly. (BTW, Becky and Larry are the folks who live near us in the condo. They are UF grads and they know where to park at the games. They bleed blue and orange.)

Here's what happened. I know, I'm an expert.

First of all, what the heck is a "no look, pitch over"? Whatever it is, they should use it a lot because it got the purple people into position to win the game. Shouldn't a coaching staff think that there might be a tricky play in the works when a team lines up to kick a point or three from a spot way beyond the kicker's ability? It would tie the game. Don't you think an attempt at a win might be in an offensive coach's first priority? Well, I can't speak to what the purple coach was thinking, but the defensive coach on the good team didn't pick up on the potential for damage. They got a first down and then scored with only a few seconds left to play. At least the officials took a VERY LONG time to review the play, trying to decide whether it was a lateral, a pass or one of those no look pitch overs. The results of their inquiries were disheartening. There's another day (as the Lord tarries).

Another thing struck me as we sat in such great seats behind the good team's bench. As play progressed through the evening, there was a lot of confusion going on down on the field. It seemed to me that the nicely dressed coaching staff was having a tough time deciding what to do. I'm pretty sure their indecision was about the game and not Obama's HealthCare Initiatives or the market. They were all kind of running around in ever-increasing circles and they all constantly waved their hands in what could be mistaken for gang signals (I am from Central California, near Salinas). They were all waving their hands and signaling at the same time. As soon as they did, the quarterback, John Brantley, would look over, and then scurry around to his line to reveal to them what the new play might be. They did that too much. They needed to trust Brantley or give him a consistent game plan from the beginning. Maybe they could even just have one coach do the gang thing. Whatever it was, it could be called confusion.

Even I picked up on it. Me, the guy who majored in AFROTC and Budweiser.

Andrew Breitbart Confronts Protesters

Now here's something that every thinking person should see. Oh, and be sure that you are not one of those folks who is given the sign without the explanation! Enjoy. Please.

Why Don't We All Just Relax, and Trust Them.

The Ship of State is foundering on it's Summertime Cruise. I fear that once again we'll be the ones to have to walk the gangplank to lighten the craft. Lots of privileged folks are on board, of course, but they'll be busy with their tales of aggrandizement and power sharing, scratching backs and kneeling to get a better angle on it.

It's time for us to deal with the slimy mess which has prevailed in D.C. since the liberal orgasm of a year ago or so. Do we just paddle harder and hope and pray for "change"? I'd like to see some authentic patriots do something real for a change.

Angelo M. Codevilla gets its correct when he writes,

"Our ruling class's agenda is power for itself. While it stakes its claim through intellectual-moral pretense, it holds power by one of the oldest and most prosaic of means: patronage and promises thereof. Like left-wing parties always and everywhere, it is a "machine," that is, based on providing tangible rewards to its members. Such parties often provide rank-and-file activists with modest livelihoods and enhance mightily the upper levels' wealth. Because this is so, whatever else such parties might accomplish, they must feed the machine by transferring money or jobs or privileges -- civic as well as economic -- to the party's clients, directly or indirectly. This, incidentally, is close to Aristotle's view of democracy. Hence our ruling class's standard approach to any and all matters, its solution to any and all problems, is to increase the power of the government -- meaning of those who run it, meaning themselves, to profit those who pay with political support for privileged jobs, contracts, etc. Hence more power for the ruling class has been our ruling class's solution not just for economic downturns and social ills but also for hurricanes and tornadoes, global cooling and global warming. A priori, one might wonder whether enriching and empowering individuals of a certain kind can make Americans kinder and gentler, much less control the weather. But there can be no doubt that such power and money makes Americans ever more dependent on those who wield it."
http://spectator.org/archives/2010/07/16/americas-ruling-class-and-the/print