e5396243   
   From: goodsoldierschweik@invalid.com   
      
   On Sun, 4 Apr 2010 21:00:19 -0700 (PDT), Gregg    
   wrote:   
      
   >On Apr 4, 8:34 pm, Schweik  wrote:   
   >> On Sun, 4 Apr 2010 15:51:11 -0700 (PDT), LarbGai    
   >> wrote:   
   >>   
   >>   
   >>   
   >>   
   >>   
   >> >****** Someone loved him..........  ;-)   
   >>   
   >> >Jesus and isn't he something? Stronger then a speeding Tuk Tuk,   
   >> >faster   
   >> >then a Bangkok Traffic Jam, able to leap large pebbles with a single   
   >> >bound, wearing a pair of dirty long shorts. It is Chiang Mai Kramer.   
   >> >the Clown. The Poltroon of the Internet, The Buffoon of Rec.Knives,   
   >> >Kraven Kramer! Ta! Da! Bow and hold up your arms to still the   
   >> >applause   
   >> >Stevie.   
   >>   
   >> >Now, I'm onto old Kamer's trick of hiding his light under a bushel,   
   >> >kill filing everyone who disagrees with him, so you will see me in   
   >> >various guises, simply to screw up what he thinks of as his defenses.   
   >>   
   >> >But on a more sober vein, I wonder about the other denizens of   
   >> >Rec.Knives. If I ventured into a Glasgow pub and started spouting   
   >> >Kramer's bullshit how long before I got my head busted do you think,   
   >> >Lachland?. Or an Aussie pub on a Saturday night, eh Charles? Or even   
   >> >a   
   >> >Road House in Phoenix, Alvin? But here on the Internet we listen to   
   >> >his stories, with our mouth gaped open, about kicking the ass of a   
   >> >dead men, who isn't here to defend himself, and the other wonderful   
   >> >things that he has done (in his imagination) and all the time he is   
   >> >simply an old, dirty, stinking, man living on his wife's retirement.   
   >>   
   >> >An Internet symbol to be emulated!   
   >>   
   >> >Cheers,   
   >>   
   >> >Whoever I am today......   
   >>   
   >> Perhaps he was what people wanted. think about it for a moment. Here   
   >> they are in their dull little lives, cradled in the arms of their   
   >> paternalistic government - in Australia they are afraid to own guns   
   >> which rather makes a mockery of their history as without guns the   
   >> Abu's would have won. The Brits can't own guns, at least the peasants   
   >> can't (I think that the gentry can still shoot pheasants) and even   
   >> knitting needles, straight razors and broken bottles are debatable.   
   >> "Security cameras" everywhere.   
   >>   
   >> So what's left? The Sunday paper and Kramer, the buffoon. He actually   
   >> fits the comic section quite well - the American Colonel Blimp.   
   >>   
   >> So rather then disdain perhaps it is pity that is the proper emotion.   
   >>   
   >> Cheers,   
   >>   
   >> Schweik   
   >> (goodsoldierschweikatgmail)- Hide quoted text -   
   >>   
   >> - Show quoted text -   
   >   
   >Good post Schweik and I'm sure there is alot of validity to what you   
   >said. Often times, at least here in the US we (myself included) take   
   >for granted many of the freedoms. My EDC, there's no way I could carry   
   >what I put on every day in other countries....I'd feel naked and   
   >somewhat vulnerable.   
      
   When I was a kid my dad had "medical" because he worked for the Post   
   Office (the Government) but other then him I can't remember any of my   
   high school classmates who's parents had "Medical". The two largest   
   employers in town, both woolen Mills, had medical care for on the job   
   injuries and perhaps, I don't know this for sure, some sort of   
   compensation for, say a lost finger, hand, arm.   
      
   The doctor used to drive a Buick and you could ask him about your sore   
   finger while you were pumping in his "5 gallons, please, and check the   
   oil" and he would make a suggestion - iodine, band-aid, aspirin and if   
   it doesn't get better see me in the office.   
      
   Sure it was simpler times. We also hung murders, locked rapists away   
   for a good long stretch and bank robbers quite frequently were killed   
   while escaping. The cop on the beat was your mate's father and police   
   brutality was being grabbed by the arm, taken to the police station to   
   wait for your father to come get you..... and believe me that was   
   brutal. Jesus! Think of it. Your Dad had to go down to the police   
   station, right there in the middle of town, in broad daylight, to   
   retrieve his son and heir. As a rather painfully general statement,   
   you probably never committed whatever you had done, again.   
      
   On the other hand I could carry a loaded gun down through the middle   
   of town and nobody would say a word. I lived a bit out in the country   
   but I used to sit on my front steps and, with a .22,  at a target   
   pined to a tree across the road. A knife? doesn't everyone have a   
   pocketknife? (It was just one word - "pocketknife".) In fact my   
   Granddad gave me my first pocket knife when I was seven or eight years   
   old; and of course I promptly cut myself. My Mother got rather excited   
   about it. I can still remember my Granddad saying, "Daughter, he's a   
   boy and they got to learn somehow."   
      
   Cheers,   
      
   Schweik   
   (goodsoldierschweikatgmail)   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)