In search of the lost ark…
AUKUS – trilateral security pact between Australia, the United Kingdom, and the United States
(Defense News) On Monday, the U.S., Australia, and the United Kingdom unveiled new details about their partnership to produce for Australia its own nuclear-powered submarine by 2040, known as the SSN AUKUS. The U.S. is offering an interim capability of three to five Virginia-class submarines, either newly built or used, in the 2030s.
To meet the U.S. Navy’s undersea warfare needs under a 2021 force structure assessment, the submarine industrial base must sustain a minimum construction rate of two Virginia-class attack submarines and one Columbia-class ballistic missile submarine per year throughout this decade and into the next — without counting any additional submarines for Australia. So far, builders have not been able to keep up with that workload and are years behind schedule on some Virginia submarines.
More here at the Atlantic. A different spin on the same issue.
What sort of navy is needed to insure freedom of navigation and to secure trade? Is the US Navy up to the task anymore? It’s a question worth asking and the Australians are clearly concerned enough to embrace US and UK Nukes ported on the subcontinent. It’s a serious change of posture for Australia as they buy nuclear submarines from the US.
When I served in the US Navy, people would have been cashiered if they allowed our ships to look like that. The USSR’s ships all looked like that. Times have changed. The Admirals are more concerned with pronouns.
Identify the Aircraft
** More on Bank Failures – How will this backstop for depositors be paid for you might be asking? Jackson claims “We were told that we’re going to pay for that with a fund that banks already pay into – not taxpayer money”
Interesting, given no details about the size of this fund, were released. If bank failures continue, will depositor bail-ins be required to keep the fund solvent? There certainly are lots of unanswered questions that depositors should be asking Congress as well as their banking establishments in the near term. In addition, depositors need to clearly understand, the Treasury used the full bail-out strategy for depositors at the two large failed banks as a psy-op in the hopes to stave off further bank runs. Given that fact, our takeaway is there would likely be [insufficient] funds to make whole other depositors should a large number of other banks should fail. After all, we’re talking potentially Trillions of Dollars at stake. In that event, it would be foolhardy to believe the US Government can backstop all depositors’ funds….. without dipping into either tax coffers or bailing-in bank depositors.
** Where does the woke money come from? Think about this before you peel open the top of the breakfast cereal box.
** In the 1970s, Western politicians thought it a good idea to give the peasant economy of China run by a totalitarian communist government advanced technology, manufacturing ability, and trillions of dollars in investment capital. That was followed by awarding the nation-favored nation trade status, thus allowing it the ability to manipulate trade through the use of slave labor and currency manipulation. Of course, the plan worked well for the political class of the West and, their corporate handlers, all of whom were able to enrich themselves at the expense of American and European workers. After all, what could possibly go wrong?
** Climate Change is a religion, and possibly a cult, that has nothing to do with the climate.
My grandfather, 17 maple trees tall
Stubble-ridden, stained second-shift shirt
Nudges me towards a quick trip countertop
He growls something barely audible as I sneak a second bag of candy onto the counter
He is getting too old for my shit,
But cannot begrudge my newfound love of root beer barrels and red and white vaporwave
He tells me only 11-year-olds can have coffee
I am 10 years old
My grandfather, 13 maple trees tall
Teeth clacking on sugar-free hard candy
Pins my hand to the arm of his recliner with a deep chuckle
He grins at me and hugs me tight
He feels my strength in me years before I do
We never arm wrestle again
I am 14 years old
My grandfather laughs at me as I fall off the wooden swing as he exits the house, my page in the book forgotten
He limps toward the garage
I limp after him
I am 18 years old
My grandfather is fading.
He says ” Hi Larry!” with the same enthusiasm as all 27 years prior
He has 15 days left
For the first time
Identify the Aircraft:
Do you tire of being right?
Listen, and understand. That AI is out there. It can’t be bargained with. It can’t be reasoned with. It doesn’t feel pity, or remorse, or fear. And it absolutely will not stop, ever, being right.
Truth…and it’s coming for all of us.
Surly walks into a bar – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hZ45RU2Xty0
I sense the beginning of a meme.
As long as he wears the Ray Bans.
“It can’t be bargained with. It can’t be reasoned with. It doesn’t feel pity, or remorse, or fear. And it absolutely will not stop.”
Could be worse. The creatures that have seized* power are all that, except that they do feel pity. SELF-pity. Endless self-pity, but none for anyone else. Okay, fear too, but the fear of paranoia** and not rationality.
*seized: we bear guilt for this mess too. We effectively CEDED power.
** paranoia: be enough of a hyper aggressive, condescending, and sanctimonious paranoid asshole and eventually you will CREATE the very sort of enemies that you claimed to have.
I didn’t cede anything.
This one was sort of a gimme, as it is written on the plane…
Didn’t see that. Researched French fighters based on the roundel until I found the model. I don’t know much about French World War 2 aircraft so didn’t realize on first glance those markings were the model name rather than squadron markings.
Ha, that’s a hoot!
I’ve done things like that before…
Even better, I’ve done things like that before and gotten the answer wrong!
I’m thinking some boson’s chairs, Ospho, paint, and some unwilling sailors would spiff the ship up to shining. I’d be embarrassed, and the Captain should be relieved. Considering the condition, the ship probably can’t reach 80% of full speed due to barnacles.
“environmentally friendly” paint likely has to be done in drydock these days. can’t be dripping paint in the ocean you know. that and likely very short crew, not to mention you can’t punish anybody by making them actually work. still, it looks disgusting.
Years ago, local machine builder, Cincinnati Milacron, converted their painting process to water based paint because of what they thought were government mandates.
Paint came off their presses during delivery.
Turned out, they never sprayed the volume required to fall under VOC laws.
Waste of everyone’s money.
In the case of my last ocean-going boat (Carver 32), I had it hauled at the yard so it could receive “custom anti-fouling paint”. The yard had to use EPA-approved paint. Since mine was a custom job, I gave my boat guy paint that I bought in Ensenada, Mexico (port) that would kill most anything that swam within 3′ of the hull. It was thick, viscous paint and worked great. The stuff that the government. approved didn’t work.
Hmmm. Can we paint the bottom of the shallow portions of the Rio Grande with that pan-biocidal paint?
Asking for, oh, no reason. No reason at all….
Maybe a train car full of it could derail there…..
Helped a friend restore a Catalina 35 many years ago. He also bought the paint in Mexico. It had copper compounds in it, and yep, would kill anything in the water within 3′ of the hul!
my grandfather died when i was ten. he was a good man. i can’t help but wonder how much better of a man i would have been had he lived a bit longer.
I rarely met my dad’s dad because of distance issues.
My mom’s dad was a great guy, but like you, died while I was young.
But I had a dad, and I am grateful.
I work to be the best grandfather that I can be. And for that matter, the best father that I can be. As the grandfather of 10 (7 boys and 3 girls), I make myself available even though I live some distance. Seeing them and being part of their lives is the most important thing in my life.
Last of dying breed LL…good on you. It’s more important than most everything else.
It’s dependent on the cooperation of the DILs in my case.
Having all daughters works in my favor.
Apples don’t fall far from the tree.
Both of my Mom’s parents had passed before I was born. My Dad’s father passed away when I was 5 or 6, so I barely have any memories of him.
I enjoy being a grandfather. I never thought I’d make it this far, but it sure is fun waching the little ones grow up and develop personalities.
“Grandfathers” is the finest writing I have read for, oh, quite some time.
” Australians are clearly concerned enough to embrace US and UK Nukes ported on the subcontinent”
I get so confused. I thought the Aussies were cozying up to the CCP?
They were on that trajectory, but it has changed. Apparently, they didn’t want Chinese overlords as much as they thought they might.
Harrison Ford as either Indiana or Hans has a tendency to shoot first.
Not that there’s anything wrong with that.
Simple solution. Dad would say, “You can dodge the bullet or take it head on…take it head on and you’ll end up bloody. Your choice”
He was like that, altho I never got it until years later. That old adage, he got wiser as I got older.
A common observation.
My grandfather was born in 1898, served in France in 1918, raised five kids on a farm during the depression, then enlisted again during round 2 of the Euro conflict serving in North Africa and Italy. He supervised my introduction to firearms when I was six, ran a business until he was 80, and lived long enough to meet his youngest great-granddaughter passing away that night at age 94. A great man, at least in my eyes.
Yes, a great man.
Reminds me of my Father. Born in 1921 and grew up during the Depression. Army Air Corps in the CBI during WW2. Then a full career in the Air Force. Always a friendly smile, always helping others. Nicest guy in the world, unless you pissed him off. When I was a teen he once told me, “As long as I have a place to lay my head and some bread to eat I’ll be happy”.
He passed at 82 about 18 years ago, and I still maintain that he could have still out-worked me until his final week.
When my time comes, I will be happy if someone can say that I was half the man he was.
The greatest generation.
“Navy Pride” means something entirely different these days. How embarrassing…yet nothing but a reflection of the complete lack of self-respect we see in society bleeding into the military with the morons in charge who – like the financial sector – have forgotten their main charter.
We were fortunate to have two terrific grandfathers…I built my first birdhouse with one at his business he started from scratch, and the other was a cook and a chef. Both taught us kids in their own manner…later it became our time to help them.
My great-grandfather immigrated from Switzerland and because he didn’t speak English, but could garden, he raised flowers and farmed vegetables. My great-grandmother sold flowers that my great-grandfather raised downtown all year long. My grandmother said that she didn’t have a proper coat in the winter, came down with pneumonia, and died, leaving seven relatively young children.
Oh, how I wish, to the depth of my soul, that I could go back in time with money that I have earned in life and give her good boots and a coat, and medicine and pay to help those stalwart souls. I think of what I have in terms of a comfortable life and it makes me feel ashamed to complain about anything. In fact, I complain about very little in my life because I remember what it was like to grow up without much, being raised by grandparents.
My turn to say, “Sound advice.”
I’m not going to watch the movie again, yet, but I thought the San Pablo was rusting at the end. But a search of pictures does not confirm.
The Sand Pebbles had, after an incremental process that took many years, sub-contracted out all the real work of crewing a vessel to the Chinese, who eventually decamped en masse, leaving the sailors high and dry, so to speak. Bit of a lesson to be learned there, if a certain nation was paying attention.
I agree with Mike C. 👍🏻👍🏻
Well said LL, that reminds me that I must spend a bit more time appreciating what others (fathers and grandfathers) have taught/given me.
Who pays for the bank bailouts? We do. Directly (taking part of our deposits in other banks) or indirectly (new or increased bank fees, income tax, other taxes). There’s no other way, no other gravy train.
There’s a nationwide push now in pretty much every state legislature on a bill that declares every cryptocurrency to not be money except for the Central Bank Digital Currency (if that’s its real name). That’s what Kristi Noem just vetoed in South Dakota.
The CBDC is a .45 round to the temple of your freedom and infinite power to the self-appointed elites.
I posted this comment at Bunkerville today.
It’s been my contention for a few years that we have seen a gang of thieves, the likes SPECTRE would envy, steal an election, steal the nation, take over way more than Fort Knox (take THAT Auro Goldfinger) and rig the economy to short sell America.
Gates and China (et al) buy real estate, with a fixed number of borrowed dollars, inflate the economy and will pay back those loans with a fixed number of inflated dollars when they sell some of the assets at inflated prices.
They then own the rest of the assets they retained as profit.
That is how a short sell works.
These people still believe in perpetual motion machines, believing this insanity can sustain itself as long as they sprinkle it with Pixey dust and Unicorn Rainbows.
Ahh…reply to EdC…altho, come to think of it could be the sentiment to all commenter’s this morning.
Another way we pay is the USGOV just printing more money, in fact I believe they can just say “oh, we have another trillion dollars” and magically it appears in the Treasury. That devalues every hard earned dollar we have and inflates the cost of, well everything.
“When I served in the US Navy, people would have been cashiered if they allowed our ships to look like that”
As a dedicated land lubber (who reads) I wonder if the US Navy is becoming an Irish Pennant?
Maternal Grandfather was a Wyoming rancher. The last time I saw him was at Christmas. They were visiting my parents and I came home for Christmas. My Dad had a pickup loaded with stoker coal backed up to the coal shed and asked me to unload it. I changed into work clothes and went to shoveling.
Granddad had been distant when I arrived in a sports car wearing “Denver” garb. As I shoveled coal he came over, watched, then said, “Now, by God, you look like a man”.
Another site had a link to a study looking at a connection between the drop in testosterone and a lack of physical activity. Didn’t follow the link, but I wouldn’t be surprised.
Grandfathers. Wonderfully written. And now I am one, although I’m still getting used to it.
I remember at the age of 5 or so pulling up to my maternal grandparent’s house in our Ford station wagon. He would come out the front door and I would bail out of the left rear door and run to him. He would catch me, pick me up, and say “Hi ya, Big Stuff!” He died when I was about 8.
I have a framed photo of him to my left as I type this, of him as a younger man. The photo is black and white, a close up taken at waist level. It was taken during the time when he ran cattle in leased pasture on the slopes of Mt. Diablo, east of San Francisco. He is standing outdoors, long sleeve collared work shirt, brimmed hat, glasses, clean shaven, enameled coffee cup in his right hand, his gaze contemplating something off camera. My own grandson, age 2 last month, looks from me to the photo as I point and say “My grandpa”. His little brow furrows. Soon he will understand.
With all this talk of grandfathers, here’s a link to Dr Jackson Crawford’s The Cowboy Hávamál, a tribute to HIS grandfather.
I’ve linked this before, but it (Odin’s advice, retold in Western voice) ties in so well with today’s discussion. Begins in Norse, but power through – you get to the English soon enough.
I walked that path as a child, and I’m now walking it as the grandfather…
The Circle of Life.
Your free verse “Grandfathers” hits too close to home tonight.
My 94 year-old dad has a newly discovered “mass” on one of his kidneys.
When you are old, ER rooms are somewhere near the 8th or 9th circle of hell.
And the urologist does not show up for his scheduled? rounds.
Waiting for the MRI.
Even with his cane the morning feeding is a challenge, but he does need the exercise and the rain has stopped, so we have beautiful morning.
One of his Painted Desert lambs did not come in for the morning feeding.
He has always hated sheep: as a kid he had to take care of them and when he cowboyed some of the ranchers fed the crew mutton after chasing beef all day.
He’d say, “They look for an excuse to die.”
The Painted Desert Sheep do not look like what most people think of as sheep and the rams are almost regal in their appearance and attitude.
I think that he does not believe they are really sheep.
He now has a flock of the Painted Desert Sheep for weed control and thusly, fire control/prevention.
If they don’t “just die”, which has happened, the lions or coyotes take them…until Ruben, the half-Nordic-horse mule, came along.
Ruben is death on canines of any ilk: The rear feet cripple and the front feet kill.
Dad is too unsteady and weak to go look for the lamb.
He tells me when I get home from grocery shopping.
I go and find the lamb across the ravine.
It is oddly docile and lets me pick it up.
I carry it off from the point of the hill to the hospital pen back at the corrals.
Her inseparable twin sister appears to not notice her absence from the flock.
Not a good portent.
I set the lamb on her feet in the good grass hay on the floor of the pen.
Dad had pronounced this ton of hay with exceptional pride as, “GOOD grass hay.”
The lamb will not drink and stands “stock still” (for the first time I now truly understand the term) and looks up and at an odd uncomfortable angle as if seeing something not visible to me.
As rigid as a statue.
I go and report to my dad and he thanks me for bringing in the lamb.
It was beyond him.
I said, “Well, it’s worth $100.”
He said, “Yes!”
But, I know.
Dad has gotten tender-hearted as he has aged.
My mother’s death thirty years ago wrought a change in him and his ability to take any life lighly.
This lamb’s ewe-mother rejected it when it was born and he saved it by tying her head to the fence forcing her to let the lamb nurse. The ewe allowed lamb’s twin sister to nurse freely.
I think it ticked him off. He has this thing about equal treatment for siblings by their parents.
I hope the lamb makes the night.
We will find out in the morning.
Pastoral people understand the Abrahamic writings quicker and maybe to a greater depth than others.
Although, pruning and keeping an orchard or a vineyard provide their own lessons.
This Saturday, his granddaughter and her four offspring are coming from CO for an unannounced visit.
Grandfathers… well done sir.