January 2005 Archives
Reading the various gun rags, it's become quite apparent that accessory rails are all the rage. The more the better. Other than the top one, never really understood the appeal of these things. Here's the ultimate evolution of accesory rails:
(h/t Mad Ogre)
I'm a big fan of Mr. Steyn's writing. Scathing commentary written with biting wit and an amazing knowledge of Western Culture. His latest article is no different:
The point our European conterparts seem to miss:
The ''realpolitik'' types spent so long worshipping at the altar of stability they were unable to see it was a cult for psychos. The geopolitical scene is never stable, it's always dynamic. If the Western world decides in 2005 that it can ''contain'' President Sy Kottik of Wackistan indefinitely, that doesn't mean the relationship between the two parties is set in aspic. Wackistan has a higher birth rate than the West, so after 40 years of ''stability'' there are a lot more Wackistanis and a lot fewer Frenchmen. And Wackistan has immense oil reserves, and President Kottik has used the wealth of those oil reserves to fund radical schools and mosques in hitherto moderate parts of the Muslim world. And cheap air travel and the Internet and ATM machines that take every bank card on the planet and the freelancing of nuclear technology mean that Wackistan's problems are no longer confined to Wackistan. For a few hundred bucks, they can be outside the Empire State Building within seven hours. Nothing stands still. ''Stability'' is a fancy term to dignify laziness and complacency as sophistication.
Go read the rest.
So I wrote about the Station Museum yesterday. And promised a report. Well Mrs. Oilman and I thought it might be good to head out from the Oilman Compound for an hour or three. Hit the magazine store (Yes. Really. A store dedicated to nothing but magazines). And then off to the local pub for a brew, a snack and some reading.
But then there was the issue proposed last evening concerning the Station Museum. A personal visit was in order.
The Mrs. and I loaded up in the petromuncher and proceeded to said facility. About a five minute drive from the compound. Pulled up. Realized the digital cameras were left behind. Dammit.
There's a 'statue' made of missiles on the driveway/parking area. Spells out USA. Painted non milspec camo. Fairly amusing, actually.
Go inside. Place is empty. Cool. Get to see things without interference.
This is a new space. Can smell it. It's actually quite nice.
The 'artwork', however, had a lot to be desired.
Ilkka Uimonen is first. A collection of contextless photographs. No dates, titles, no nothing. Pedestrian for the most part. Taken in Iraq (before, during and after the arrival of the Americans) the lack of context leaves this display utterly meaningless. A photo of a child's bandaged legs. Is this before, during, or after the arrival of the Americans? Of course this is not revealed and this is intentional. Forcing the viewer to conclusions based on pretext ( the title of the show) and image. The basest level of propaganda. And Mr. Uimonen has received an award or two. And he works for Newsweek. I stopped reading Newsweek when I was in high school (parents subscribed) because I knew it was crap back then. Obviously it still is.
Paul Fusco's 'Fallen Soldier' work is interesting in it's intent (by the artist) and it's impact (the audience, in this case Mr. & Mrs. Oilman). This set of photos is a documentary of a fallen Patriot returning home to Dover AFB. To be reunited with his or her family once more before being interned. The Pentagon and the Administration properly shut down media access to this private event.
Mr. Fusco doesn't think it should be private. Doesn't realize the reason for shutting down media access. To disallow naked politicization of a soldier's death. Which our current media would do night and day.
Mr. Fusco ignores this decency. This respect for those who FIGHT for this country, But in his ignorance, at least in this exhibit, he fails. I followed the unlabeled photos from Dover to parade to internment. The quiet and solemn decency exhibited in the Church of the fallen, the common man on the street, the family. I respect this fallen soldier I respect these common people on the street. I respect the Pentagon representatives doing their most difficult work. Every American Soldier lost is a tragedy. Exploiting it for propaganda purposes is crass. And despicable.
The invite had a print from Richard Mock. There was quite a representation of Mr. Mock's work available for viewing. I liked one of his pieces. I'm sure my vision for that work would have churned his stomach. But I also had those mighty capitalistic dollars to spend. Not today. Not here.
I was right about Mr. Mock. Seems he shows up in the New York Times (all the news we see fit to manipulate) on a regular basis. His themes at the show were fairly common leftist themes. Enron, Oil, Bush is an Idiot, Capitalists are Evil, same old crap. Luckily, Mrs. Oilman has carved linocut blocks. She was wholly unimpressed by Mr. Mocks's craftsmanship. "He must be making one of these a day" was here comment. Cranking them out, as it were. Capitalising. Oooh, that' an evil world, isn't it, Mr. Mock? I won't wait for an answer.
Unfortunately for Mr. Mock, a TRUE artist was on display at the Station Museum. And he was a propagandist. A damn good one. José Guadalupe Posada was masterful in his creations. A display of his handiwork in this environment only shows the pathetic nature of 'dissent' today. These posters from the early 1900's are magnificent. This is a graphic artist in complete command of his medium. Unfortunately for Mr. Mock, there were some carved block posters in this display. They make Mr. Mock look like an amateur. Presence says it all. The eye. Content is one thing ( and most likely the main thing) but craftsmanship and skill SHOULD be a major part of an artist's work. Posada vs. Mock? I shouldn't have asked the question.
And now for Mr. Oilman's biggest beef. I knew what I would be seeing at the Station Museum. Based only on invites. Far left wing oriented propaganda, masquerading as art. Their mission statement is fairly innoucuous:
"The Station is a private institution dedicated to contemporary art. It is an exhibition forum for local, national, and international artists. Its emphasis is on fine arts and artists that are rarely, if ever acknowledged by other cultural institutions. The museum's goal is to encourage the public's awareness of the cultural, political, economic, and personal dimensions of art."
Seeing the invites I've declined to acknowledge, and the content of this show, their mission statement is a lie. This organization defines itself by art. Their shows are not about art. They are about political protest. The Posadada prints proved this. They are aestheticaly stellar compared to all else on display. Oh. By the way. Consevatives (or even moderates) need not apply.
Please visit Station Museum. Absorb it. Learn the difference betwen art and propaganda. Leave enlightened. Don't expect me back.
P.S.. As an afterthought, I need to some investigative research. Who funds this place? Artists are notoriously poor cheap bastards until they get a grant or proffessorship (know this from experience). So who's paying for this crap? Mad Oilman will investigate. Future report to follow.
So Sammy the clown has been dumped by the cubs (capitalization not appropriate here, nor ever when mentioning this team).
Here's the scoop: Sosa circus mercifully leaves town.
How appropriate. I've been calling Sosa Sammy the Clown since I was prompted by Astrosconnection (sadly no longer) many years ago. And how right they were.
Good riddance from the National League Central, ingrate.
In the meantime, Mr. Drayton? The Astros NEED A 'FRIGGIN BAT!.
OK then, seems the art world has learned nothing since my last post.
This is the second invite I've recieved from Station Museum. Last one was preelection and teemed with righteous indignation (and realy crappy propoganda oriented 'art'). Missed that opening. Damn.
So here's the new invite. For a show named Red Fall II.
THis piece is intringuingly titled 'Home Land Security'. There's layer of nuance in this image, don't you think? Skill wise it's OK I guess. This is a linotype print, roughly 17 x 20 by Mr. Mock. No. I'm not joking. Mr. Mock. (Note to self. See If www.mrmock is available in any form).
Yeah, this is the type of thing I want to purchase for display in my home. This is the type of art I wish to support. Well, no, it's not. It's childish in content. Juvenile. A political cartoonist can do far more with far less effort (and with much more impact) than this. I am curious though. This is a gallery, so I'm sure a lot of this um, er, 'art' is for sale. What do you think the going price for this thing is? My guess is $750.00. Since the space is so close to the Mad Oilman Compound and it's open on Sunday, maybe it would be educational to see what happens at this place. Meet the neighbors, as it were.
Report to follow tomorow.
Is your sucker rod polished? Yes, my sucker rod is polished.
So our meal has concluded and now it's time to prep for tomorrow. Here's a play by play of the assembly of this thing (the mignons de porc a l' ail).
Here's the first flattened pork tenderloin, and the roasted garlic.
And here's the remainder of the roasted garlic which is being reserved for the sauce.
Assembly begins. Roasted garlic has been smashed with a fork and is now spread/smeared on the tenderloin. This smells REALLY good.
Garlic application complete. That's a bit over a head of roasted garlic.
And now the bacon. Nothing but Holmes in the Mad Oilman compound (unless I can't find it)
Flattening the second tenderloin. Yes I have a meat tenderizer hammer thing. It comes out when necessary. But recipe suggested heel of hand and I have to agree. Moderate flattening, not sheet making.
Properly flattened pork. (Disclaimer: I did not choose the plastic wrap. Mrs. Oilman did. Great for sealing contaners. Questionable for kitchen tasks. Well, it actually worked, but can't I just have some plain old plastic wrap? DAMMIT!"
And the trussing begins. Recipe calls for individual knots so the string will not have to be removed while serving, but I like the truss better. And it looks cool.
Final product. Now I know professional chefs out there are probably laughing but I think this looks pretty good. Despite the zig zag. That was on purpose. Yep. On purpose.
So now this thing will reside in the fridge in non-traditional plastic wrap and all those (well, three) flavors will have all night and all day to say hello. I'm going to enjoy finishing this thing off tomorrow, especially the sauce which should be quite robust.
Lazy day here at the Mad Oilman complex. Chores done early, lucnh out at a good burger joint, and then on to the main mission of the day. Stopped at Central Market to get the ingredients and Specs for the alchoholic components and off to the kitchen.
First thing is a demi-glace. I have about 1-1/2 gallons of wild boar stock that I've reserved for this purpose. Since this takes a while, it goes on the stove first. And I'll use some of it for tomorrow's dinner.
Next is roasted garlic, two heads worth. This is also prep for tommorrow's recipe. So what will I be making? Some french thing called 'mignons de porc a l' ail'. Whatever. Basically I take a pork tenderloin and flatten it slightly. Then I take the majority of the roasted garlic and I smear it all over the tenderloin. For good measure, add a strip of bacon. Then take a similiarly flattened tenderloin and make a sandwich. Roll it up, tie off with twine, and let marinate in the fridge overnight. (photos to follow once rolling commences).
And that's all well and good, but what's for dinner tonight? Mrs. Oilman wanted pasta. So out come the books. Today is a day to try something new. 'Cavateli with Garlic, Crab, Chile, and Trebbiano'. This one just leapt out at me so I'll give it a shot.
And since I'm using crab and I don't want leftovers, I now have a conundrum. An extra half pound of crab meat. Looks like I'll have to make a crab cake or three for lunch tomorrow.
Franco Agrees to One Year Contract
Didn't Drayron and Tim read my earlier comments? Jeez. A 44 year old reliever with a 2-7 record and a friggin' 5.28 ERA last season? And then there is the whole Met issue. Do these guys not remember 1986? This is almost as bad as the Rockets hiring Van Gundy, who brings in every Knick retread in existence. I'm still amazed John Starks hasn't made an appearance on the Rockets roster.
P.S. To all those who know Mad Oilman and his disdain for the NBA, it's hard to miss what's going on in town, even if you think the NBA is a glorified WWE.
OK, I just updated the blogroll thing. I 'figger three or four a day and I may have this here thing licked in a month or two. Yes, I am the mule of the blogsphere. Slow, ignorant, and plodding, yet methodical.
Digging around the web, looking for info on sight adjustment for the wife's M1 Carbine (Chester), I came upon this site. Not a lot about M1 Carbine sight adjustment but some nice pics and a good BB gun story. Luckily my mom never caught my brothers or me in any of our BB gun transgressions.
U.S. Carbine: CAL .30 M1, Dodging the Bullet!
Now THAT'S a good mom.
Back from the pub, the Mrs. is still busily crafting sparkly things with my cousin. Once manufacturing ceases and our guests have departed its time for food. I'm not up for cooking and the Mrs. doesn't cook. So it's time to head out. Italian. That's all I ask.
Head out to Bistro Vino. Unfortunately they were hosting a massive wedding. So we head off to Charivari Defintely a budget buster but damn do they make good food.
Off in that direction (1/2 mile away) decide maybe Brennan's would be a good choice. Never been there even though we live less than a mile away. Stellar reputation (and another budget buster).
So throughout the mess of Houston road construction we eventually find Brennan's. But due to navigator error (the Mrs.) we drive past the restaurant and onto a freeway ramp. No biggie, we'll just turn around at the next exit. Good plan until we saw the logjam on the other side of the freeway.
So it's now Mia Bella. Ignore that reviewer for the moment. This is MY friggin' review.
We enter the establishment and it's fairly crowded. Loud. Good sign. Our hostess has a tattoo on her neck. Intersecting equilateral triangles. That was a sign. I ignored it to my detriment.
We're seated at the "we can cram two more people in this place" table. My wife's back is dangerously near a major wait staff throughfare. But we're ok. So our waiter arrives. This must be his day (money earning) job 'cause he looked like he really wanted to be on stage singing angry songs. His skills as a waiter reflected this initial impression.
Ask for the wine list. Open it. OK, this is a 'friggin Italian restaurant, right? SO why is 90% of the wine from California? And now I'm getting pissed. Sparkling wines first. Cristalino Brut, $25. This is a $6 RETAIL sparkling wine. So not only is the wine list innappropriate for the setting but ridiculously overpriced. Scanning the wine list just makes me angrier. I want to leave. But the Mrs. will not have any of that. So I just have to make it through this sad situation. Mr. Angst Waiter returns and I ask for the Pepi Sangiovese ($9 wine, $30 here. Oh the pain). After a glass/bottle communication issue is resolved, chain pierced man goes away.
At this time I notice the tablecloth. Which resides beneath the 'friggin BUTHCER PAPER across the table! Yes, this is authentic Italian.
The Mrs. realizes how much I want to get the hell out of there but she is not budging. Says something about this bad experience making good experiences at restaurants that much better. I'm already a bomb ready to go off and she inserts the fuse.
So surfer hardcore boy shows up with the wine and now I'm in. Have to ride this beast into the ground.
Menu is not inspiring me. There's a seared Ahi tuna in a cilantro jalapeno blah blah blah. Which is interesting. Last time I checked, THERE ARE NO JALAPENOS OR CILANTRO IN ITALIAN COOKING!
And that thoroughfare? Waitress hooks herself on the Mrs purse, ripping the strap off. Lots of apologizing and 'It's OK". I cram myself ever closer to the near table and pull our table closer, hoping to provide some space.
I'm beggining to embarass the Mrs. We order and she gets a salad and a pasta dish. I order the risotto of the day and a roasted pork tenderloin dish.
Salad and risotto arrive. Salad is exceptionally well received by the Mrs. Risotto is actually worthwile (and a value for the price).
Main courses arrive. Good. Damn good. I'm understanding this place now. People come here for the relatively cheap good food. Abundant, inoffensive, nice. A fancy Olive Garden. Wine list at Olive Garden is better (I'm ashamed to know that, but I'm even more ashamed for Mia Bella for being so deficient here)
So I'm calmed down now. This place may be OK. We wondered if there was a corkage fee to bring in our own wine. Actually thought about staying around for dessert.
Until the next party was seated behind us. I noticed immediately. I was punched in the face with a wall of cloying fragrance. I put my napkin to my mouth to filter the heinous fumes. The Mrs. didn't realize the dire nature of the situation and thought I was about to throw up. After the party was seated, the true and insidious nature of this chemical attack made itself manifest.
I could taste it. It started coating the interior of my sinuses and my throat. I wanted to turn around and slap that woman.
Waiter returns. "No, no dessert, WE NEED TO LEAVE".
Two senses (taste and smell) are now destroyed. And I'm pissed again. I'd had a bit of the sour gas (future oilfied definition) throughout the day. The Mrs. thought it might be good if I countered the other table's persistent chemical assault with an assault of my own. But then there are timing issues. Trajectories. Air currents. Planning is required. Contributing to her plan, I thought it might be appropriate if I dropped something while leaving, to better focus my aim.
Alas it was not to be.
So we go to Brennan's for dessert. And actualy make it there. And we're horribly underdresed. So we huddle in the bar, have a ridiculously good dessert, and all is well. And into the moonlight we drove, guiding us home.
Overall a good evening.
Having set the women up with proper food and drink, I set off to the range to meet TXB for a little handgun time. We met up at our indoor range of choice, Top Gun.
Seems that they're expanding so we entered through a backdoor entrance. Had no idea how extensive that facility is.
So I brought Ivan (wife's Ruger Security Six .357 Magnum) and Mercury (my .45 Kimber Ultra carry). 50 rounds .38 special, 100 rounds .45 acp
I shot the TDPS concealed carry test first (50 rounds of .45 at varying distances) as a warm up. Here's some results (and conclusions) from the rest.
3" target. That's 12 rounds of .38 special from 5 yards. Double action. I learned that I really do not like the double action on this gun. ( Interesting scanning note. These targets are fluorescent yellow. How they turn white under the scan is a bit of a mystery.)
3" target. Now this is much better. 5 yards, .38 special, single action. 12 rounds.
3" target. 5 yards. .45 ACP. 14 rounds. Acceptable.
3" target. 10 yards. .38 special. 18 rounds. Did I say I hated the double action on this gun? Jeez.
5" target. 10 yards. .45 ACP. About 35 rounds. Interesting thing about this shot spread are the low shots. 3 of the four low shots were my first three shots. Sighting issues. Fixed them and away we go. At this point I'm wrapping up a 150 round session so fatigue is definitely setting in and affecting accuracy. And though I won't win any competitions, not a bad showing.
All in all a pleasant day at the range. Then off to the pub for gun stories, beers and food.
I mean, just LOOK at that! Isn't it pathetic? Almost as much as my lack of posting. But then I'm new to this here world. Posting seems easy. Motivation for posting is another thing. Posting with links takes more time. Posting with links and pictures takes forever. But I'm getting better.
And right now, posting seems more important than the Blogroll. Which is laughable. I'll get around to expanding it. Just not yet.
Update
That seems kind of whiney, doesn't it? Kind of jellyfish like? Spineless? WELL NOT ON THIS WEBSITE DAMMIT!
OK, I just dropped and gave twenty. I'l think twice about website whining.
Excellent. Today the Astros signed Roger Clemens to a record one year contract. Clemens returns for 22nd season.
Now all we need is 200 RBI to replace Jeff Kent and Carlos Beltran. And although the 'Stros have arguably one of the best 1-2-3 rotations in the majors (if Petite is back to full form) without a major bat from free agency, this is going to be a tough season. I'd take a chance on Magglio Ordonez but it looks like we'll get a Colorodo Rocky stat pumped Jeremy Burnitz instead. And friggin' Franco? Love to hate the guy, respected his talent back in the day, but not worth it.
Here's a fantastic story in so many ways. But most important is American Bravery and Valor. Congratulations 1st. Lt. Prakash. You are a credit to the Army and your Country.
Platoon Leader awarded Silver Star for conduct under fire
Hat Tip Mr. Wisdom
Tomorrow my wife is hosting one of her regular beading parties. The girls come over, make jewelry and do what girls do when they're together. Needless to say, I won't be around. I'll be out doing manly things. Most likely a round of sporting clays with the guys and beers and cigars afterwards. A fine day indeed.
But since my wife is hosting, I volunteer to cook the brunch/lunch for the ladies before I depart. Snice I'll be off fairly early tomorrow, tonight was the night.
For brunch is the Gatto Napoletano, a giant potato cake. This thing weighs about seven pounds when complete. 4 pounds of potatoes, about two pounds of cheese, a half pound of Sopressata and some milk and eggs to hold it all together. Here's phase II of construction (phase I being prep):
Yes, that's a pound of buffalo mozzarella in the middle of this thing.
Here's the end of Phase II (before going in the oven):
Just look at all the sopressata batons and parsley littered through that mixture.
This recipe takes a little effort but is well worth it. As well as the majority of the recipes in Mario Batali's Holiday Food
Girls will be happy and guys will be happy. Guns, beer and cigars. Doesn't get much better than that.
Last Sunday another Big Sunday dinner came and went. We bought a moderately priced ($14) bottle of Italian to go with our Italian meal. Here it is
Nothing to say about this wine. Uninspiring, weak, and flavorless come to mind. Needless to say we were disappointed. Strike this one off the list.
Is your stuffing box lubricated? Is it packed? Yes, my stuffing box is lubricated and packed.
On the momentous and ceremonial Day of Inaguration, our President acknowledges the work of our British allies, Judas Priest, Iron Maiden, Saxon, and Motorhead.
Godspeed. Mr. President
One of the main reasons I've removed myself from the "Art" world is the overwhelming preponderance of far left mindlessness. Thanks to Derridia (good riddance) and his ilk, art is now more about politics than it is aesthetics. But dammit, I really love fine art. It's just becoming harder and harder to find it (and harder to motivate myself to seek it out).
Since I still have faith that there is good out there (and there is) I belong to many of the minor and major art organizations in town. So I get all kinds of invitations to places I really have never thought about visiting. I recently received an invite to a photography exhibition at the Art Car Museum.
Exhibit is titled "Diary of an Execution"
Looking at the invite, there will be a panel discusion on the exhibit on January 15th. Are there photography critics on this panel? Art critics? Hell no!
So what is this "Art Exhibit" really about? Let's look at the panel to find out.
James Ryting - Attorney for James Colburn (the executed and subject of this documetary exhibit)
Tina (Morris) Duroy - Sister of James Colburn (Morris in parenthesis as printed on the invite. Don't know what to make of those. Probably some feminist plot to diminish the paternal subjugation of women through the.., well, I could do this forever..)
Fabian Biasso - Swiss Photographer (Swiss is the key word here)
David Atwood - Texas Coalition to Abolish the Death Penalty (In Texas! Good luck.)
Victor R. Scarano M.D., J.D. Chief of Forensic Psychiatry Services, Baylor College of Medicine (a lawyer and a psychiatrist. Professional witness)
Ah. And the sponsors. Too many to mention but prominently emblazoned on the invite are two interesting sponsors of note.
Consulate General of Switzerland
Federal Department of Foreign Afairs Cultural Foreign Policy Center Switzerland.
Oh and throw in Amnesty International for good measure.
OK then. Do y'all see a pattern here? 'Caus I sure the hell do.
Meet James Colburn, the subject of this exhibit.
I wonder. Why there are none of Peggy Murphy's family on this panel? Or for that manner, anyone that actually supports the death penalty? I know, stupid question.
What's even more galling is that this is a photography exhibit by a Swiss photographer funded by the Swiss government. And their official position on execution of criminals is a big NO (despite the wishes of the populace).
Government supported art with a political agenda? Well Mr. Emmentalcheese man, in these parts we call that propoganda. Which is all this sorry excercise is.
Yes I could go and agitate and cause problems but what's the use? The attendees are already wedded to their beliefs and I'll just negatively reinforce them (and, well, the NFL playoffs are on...). What a friggin' waste of money.
And since this exhibit is at the Art Car Museum, I just have to ask;
What the hell does this have to do with cars?
Starting a new tradition on Mad Oilman, I thought I would share some of the colorful terminology present in my industry. In a blatant ripoff of Mr. Wisdom's "Words That Just Sound Funny" series, Oilfield Definitions now makes its debut. Starting off the series:
"Yesterday the crack spread widened . Today the crack spread is shrinking."
We've had great success with wines from the Priorat region of Spain. Big bang for the buck, these are daily drinkers. I was curious to see how the next price point ($15-$20) would fare. This is my first example.
The wine has a very strong aroma of cherries. It is a light to medium bodied red with strong initial cherry flavors. The wine finishes dry with a hint of earthiness. I was surprised at the relatively light body of this wine but it held up well with the strong flavors from the meal. This wine definitely needs some time to open up. The aroma and flavor grew more pronounced throughout the meal. The wine was decanted which helped immensely. Overall an easy drinker that will work well with a variety of foods.
Growing up, Sunday was the big meal of the week. I've (for the most part) maintained that tradition. A good hearty meal with an appropriate wine is a great way to charge the batteries for the week ahead. And cooking relaxes me which is a double bonus On the menu today:
T-bone, Fiorentina Style
Risotto Milanese (subbing homemade wild boar stock for traditional chicken stock)
Pan roasted Asparagus
The meal will be served with Rotllan Torra 1998 Reserva, a red Priorat composed of Cabernet Sauvignon, Grenache, and Carignan. Big Italian meal, big Spanish wine (amateur review to follow).
At the prodding of my wife and through her programming skills, Mad Oilman is now open for business. I'll use this forum to discuss the energy industry and whatever else keeps me interested or busy.
