Going After A Real Criminal Must Have Been Too Difficult

There are real penalties for running contrary to the Left’s agenda…especially when you have the temerity to not share their priorities and you dare to move freely in their territories.  This cautionary tale comes courtesy of the Philadelphia Daily News.

Unlike a Somali youth who did his damnest to carry out the cold-blooded murder of innocent people, and was only stopped due to FBI involvement, Brian Aitken is serving a 7 year sentence for transporting two handguns, ammunition, and magazines he legally owned.

Brian, a law-abiding citizen who was in the process of moving from Colorado to New Jersey after a divorce, expressed some disappointment with his life after his ex-wife cancelled a scheduled visitation with his son.  Mom, a social worker, was concerned that he might do something stupid, and called the police.

 Sue Aitken, a trained social worker, decided to play it safe and called police, but she hung up before the 9-1-1 dispatcher could answer. Police traced the call and showed up anyway, and found two handguns in the trunk of Brian’s car.

Thanks, Mom!  Clearly another case of government involvement improving the lives of average, everyday citizens.

But unlike that Somali youth in Oregon, Aitken had the misfortune to have offended the gun-fearing-wussies (GFWs) of New Jersey, and there would be no mercy for this heinous crime of transporting firearms and ammunition legally owned.

When Mount Laurel police arrived at the Aitkens’ home on Jan. 2, 2009, they called Brian – who was driving to Hoboken – and asked him to return to his parents’ home because they were worried. When he arrived, the cops checked his Honda Civic and, inside the trunk, in a box stuffed into a duffel bag with clothes, they found two handguns, both locked and unloaded as New Jersey law requires.  [emphasis added]

Aitken had passed an FBI background check to buy them in Colorado when he lived there, his father said, and had contacted New Jersey State Police and discussed the proper way to transport them. [Again, emphasis added]

Transported in the manner that the law required, just as he was informed when he asked NJ authorities.  But wait!  There’s more!

In the Garden State, Aitken was required to have a purchaser’s permit from New Jersey to own the guns and a carry permit to have them in his car.

He also was charged with having “large capacity” magazines and hollow-point bullets, which one state gun-control advocate found troubling.

“What little I can glean about the transportation issue leaves me puzzled, but a person with common sense would not be moving illegal products from one place to another by car,” said Bryan Miller, executive director of CeaseFire NJ, an organization devoted to reducing gun violence.

Imagine that, a gun-fearing-wussy who fears guns for a living can’t imagine how it might be that a person might not consider that ammunition legal in one state might not be legal in another, and that the owner might not think to check on that when moving.  Huh.

And it couldn’t be that there might be an exception for someone moving, could there?

New Jersey allows exemptions for gun owners to transport weapons for hunting or if they are moving from one residence to another. During the trial, Aitken’s mother testified that her son was moving things out, and his friend in Hoboken testified he was moving things in. A Mount Laurel officer, according to Larry Aitken, testified that he saw boxes of dishes and clothes in the Honda Civic on the day of the arrest.

Mom said he was moving, car full of stuff that people might have in their home, but would be unusual to carry around in your car for no reason, friend said he was in process of moving in.  Damn.  That is a hard one to figure out.  At least for the judge and the prosecutor.

The exemption statute, according to the prosecutor’s office, specifies that legal guns can be transported “while moving.” Despite testimony about his moving to Hoboken, a spokesman for the prosecutor said the evidence suggested that Aitken had moved months earlier, from Colorado to Mount Laurel. “Again, there was no evidence that he was then presently moving,” spokesman Joel Bewley said.

After Nappen raised the moving-exemption issue, he said, the jury asked Judge Morley for the exemption statute several times and he refused to hand it over to them. Morley, in a phone interview, echoed the sentiments of the prosecutor’s office.

“My recollection of the case is that I ruled he had not presented evidence sufficient to justify giving the jury the charge on the affirmative offense that he was in the process of moving,” Morley said.

Yes, because dishes and clothes in the car, and the testimony of your Mom and your new roommate isn’t sufficient evidence.  And that whole “presumption of innocence” and conviction on evidence “beyond a shadow of a doubt” thing?  It doesn’t apply to those who would assert rights the nanny staters do not wish you to have.

Of course, the Judge’s mental acuity really isn’t all that, either, as you note at the end of the news story.

Heartbreaking.

For those of you who refuse to recognize the evil that resides in the hearts of all Americans, I present to you this truly heart-rending photograph:

The chair? THE CHAIR??!? WHY, ALLAH??!? WHYYYY?!!?!?

That’s right.  This is what happens when innocent, peace-loving Muslims in Corvallis, OR provide support and comfort for one of their own who simply wanted to show the world what a good peaceful Muslim he is.  Someone sets their office on fire.  (Not the actual place of worship or any symbol of the Religion of Peace, you will notice, but the business office, where all of their documents were stored.  Documents that, perhaps, would have included financial data, membership lists and other information that may have been helpful in the investigation into the support and assistance that the failed Portland Christmas Tree Lighting Ceremony bomber might have received from this mosque center.  What unfortunate timing for the FBI, don’t you think?)

Can you feel the pain that this poor man is experiencing over the loss of the chair?    Can you imagine his tears of anguish and suffering over the destruction of all of the mosque’s center’s filing cabinets?  (You’ll have to settle for imagining them, as the AP photographer, whom I’m absolutely positive did NOT stage this photograph, was unable to get a shot of the man’s face.)   Just look at the incredible amount of destruction that has been wrought, easily resulting in hundreds of dollars worth of damage.

Of course, this horrendous attack on the offices of the mosque center was obviously done in response to the recent attempted mass murder/terror attack at the tree lighting ceremony.  Just ask the AP writers!

Anger over a Somali-born teen’s failed plan to blow up a van of explosives during Portland’s Christmas tree lighting ceremony apparently erupted in arson when a fire damaged the Islamic center once frequented by the suspect.  Police do not know who started the blaze or why, but believe the mosque was targeted because Mohamed Osman Mohamud, 19, occasionally worshipped there.

Please note the interchangeable use of “center” and “mosque” in the above quote.  Weren’t we told that the Ground Zero Mosque was not going to be a mosque, but a “center?”  Is there a difference?

Anyway, the people of Portland have instantly leapt to their feet and are finally speaking out against the true source of the evil that has, once again, shown it’s ugly face.

Dozens of people — many of them women wearing head scarves — arrived at the federal court building where Mohamud was scheduled for a court hearing. One of them, Mujahid El-Naser, said he attended middle school in Portland with Mohamud and that he didn’t believe his friend would have gotten involved in the plot without encouragement of the FBI.

That’s right, the FBI is to blame for this entire sad affair.  Nice work, Portlanders, for finally directly naming the enemy.

The FBI Affidavit “was a picture painted to make the suspect sound like a dangerous terrorist,” said Portland photographer Rich Borroughs. “I don’t think it’s clear at all that this person would have ever had access to even a fake bomb if not for the FBI.”

Well, since the office of his mosque center, where documents that may have assisted in the investigation were contained, caught fire almost immediately after Mohamud’s arrest (incredibly, almost before the police had even released his name, much less where he worshipped), we’ll never really know, will we, Richard?

But at least we are focused on the most important aspect of this story, that being the truly sad and tragic destruction of the mosque’s center’s office, and not that we have, yet again, just barely escaped an attack of incredibly devastating proportions by yet another adherent to the self-proclaimed Religion of Peace.

Submitted For Your Approval

IMPORTANT NEWSFLASHES!!zomG!!

Heidi Klum is pretty good-looking.

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The sun is hot.

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Water is wet.

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Everyone, regardless of political affiliation, thinks that Bloomberg is changeling whore who wants to be everyone’s mommy and they hate his fucking guts.

RIP, Leslie. (Snicker, Leslie is a girl’s name…)

Who’ll ever forget Leslie (snicker) in this classic role?

Or this one?  I believe Leslie (snicker) was nominated for an Oscar, and Golden Globe and a Tony for this role, the first time that had ever happened at the time.

And of course, no proper retrospective on Leslie’s (snicker) career would be complete without mentioning his brilliant television work.

Rest in Peace, Leslie (snicker).  Thanks for all the good times.

28 Shopping Days til Kwanzaa

Black Baby Jesus flash mob

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Make this and then shove it up your ass

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I could do this if I wanted to, I just don’t want to.

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Opposite Day!!!

Feel free to give an assessment of anyone here, celebrities or politicians, or anybody in general, provided it’s THE OPPOSITE of the truth.

(The truth is fungible, by the way.)

For example:

•Sohos’ are, in fact, much smaller

•Barack Hussein Obama is a committed Christian and not at all a secret Muslim who was born in Kenya

•Innocent Bystanders is worth reading

•MCPO can run like the wind

•Charlie Sheen might just know something about 9/11

•I, Sean, am a handsome, wealthy man who is desired by sexy ladies

•Salt is not a seasoning to be fucked with

CRITICAL UPDATE OF EPIC IMPORTANCE!!!  [wiserbud]

Death Toll (human):  0

Death Toll (beer):  Unknown, believed to be in the hundreds

Up next, the inevitable Christmas Day Massacre, in 4 part harmony and with feeling.

After Action Report: A Christmas Story: The Musical

Last night, Mrs. BiW and I had our annual birthday outing. (Hers is the day before mine, the year after mine…we normally tell people who notice that we are in the Witness Relocation Program, and that they can expect a visit from the US Marshalls).  This year it was steaks at Jimmie Mac’s Roadhouse, which is as close as we can get to Texas without jumping on a plane, and then to the opening night of A Christmas Story: The Musical at the 5th Avenue Theatre in Seattle.

The 5th is by far and away the coolest theatre in Seattle.  The seats aren’t as tiny as the ones at The Paramount and The Moore, and it really has beautiful detail to look at as you wait for the show to start.

 

 I have to confess.  I went with not a little trepidation.  Mrs. BiW made it clear that she got the tickets (from a friend) because she knows I like the story, but I was reluctant because of the emotional baggage I have with regard to the story.  Still, with an open mind, we drove from the restaurant to Seattle, and arrived about an hour and a half before the show.  This worked out well, because the theatre was running a special for the evening only, selling tickets to Guys and Dolls and Oklahoma! for $30 apiece.  We looked at the seats available, and I made her Christmas a little brighter by getting her tickets to Guys and Dolls in May.  Eventually the doors opened, and we went upstairs to some really fantastic seats, and started reading the programs.  Finally, the house lights dimmed, and after some brief remarks for the theatre’s artistic director, it began.

The play opened with the actor playing Jean Shepard broadcasting in a November Blizzard from the studios of WOR in Manhattan in 1964, and deciding to tell “A Christmas Story” to the audience.  The characters made their entrances, and I tried to let the performance wash over me as I took in the story and tried not to compare it to the film.  The theatre’s artistic director spoke before the performance of his hope that this would become a Seattle holiday tradition, much in the same way that the Nutcracker ballet with the Maurice Sendak sets at the Pacific Northwest Ballet has become a holiday tradition.  If this performance was any indication, he’ll get his wish.

The children playing the parts of Ralphie, Randy, Schwartz, Flick, Scut Farkas, and Dill were fantastic.  They acted without overacting, and sang better than any performers I have seen there at the 5th in the last 5 years.  Yet somehow, the song that seemed to speak loudest to me was the one sung by Ralphie and Randy’s Mom, and for some reason, it seemed to be the best enunciated.  All the highlights were touched.  A young boy’s quest for his first BB gun, and his entry into manhood; the first F-bomb in front of the parents; taking down the bully; finding out that your Mom lets your Old Man think that he’s in charge; and that moment when you realize that the Old Man knows you better than you thought, and that for a moment or two, every now and then, he can just be a cool guy, and not the gruff, grumpy dude you fear making more gruff and grumpy.

I enjoyed the play, and the evening, but not without a little guilt.

My Old Man was a curmudgeon’s curmudgeon.  I knew that he loved me, not because he told me, but because he put up with me for so long, and because he shared many of his passions with me, like cooking and photography. He wasn’t really a fiction kind of guy, but he loved Jean Shepard stories.  My Mother still has his copy of “Wanda Hickey’s Night of Golden Memories”, which he actually let me read when he thought I was old enough to appreciate it.  Christmas made him grumpy, and he generally eschewed the shopping and while he would go to family functions, he generally hated having the television on this time of year.   But he always made an exception for A Christmas Story.  At first, it was unnerving to see my Dad watching any sort of Christmas movie, and seeing him smile, and then laugh at different points kind of gave me the feeling that I was too late to make peace with myself before the Apocalypse that had obviously arrived.  But I got used to this holiday tradition, and much like Ralphie’s moment with his Old Man, it gave my Old Man a touch of humanity that one might otherwise find lacking.  And it also means I know the movie.   From the one-of-a-kind voice of Jean Shepard narrating the story, or the deft touches that Darren McGavin gave to the Old Man, it is etched as indelibly on my soul as the perspective through which I view the world, as it is a tradition that I still keep.   Dad’s been dead for five years now, but at some point in the days before Christmas, I will get out the disk, and watch the movie alone.  But I’m not alone.  As the timeless tale plays out on the screen before me, I feel him there with me, smiling, and laughing at the Parker family and their pre-Christmas life in the tail end of the Great Depression.  Maybe it’s because of this link with my father, but the idea of the story being presented by anyone other than those in the film smacked of sacrilege. 

I wrestled with these feelings as the play progressed.  I mean, it felt like watching someone doing a paint-by-numbers copy of the Mona Lisa.  Until I paid attention to what was going on around me.  And at that point, I realized that something miraculous had happened.   The story transcended the performances.  It could be made less pleasurable by a poor performance, like an amateur staging of A Christmas Carol, or Its A Wonderful Life, but the story has been retold, and effectively.  And that is what makes it a classic.

As I let go, I found myself pleasantly surprised at the changes they did make to the story, like the aftermath of Mom breaking the Old Man’s major award.  Without giving away the surprise, I will say that I was touched (and not in the swimsuit area, you perverts) by the addition to story.  I even think my Old Man would have approved.   I’ll tell him about it when we watch the movie in a few weeks.

This Is a New Post

L to R: Innocent Bystanders, The H2

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Last Call for Secret Santa Sign Up

OK, Morons. I know I said I’d close this on the 30th, but I think I’ve got a yeah or nay for just about everyone.

If you haven’t signed up and you really do want someone to send you an inflatable sheep or giant purple dildo, sign up. NOW.

Email me at bariejr AT gmail DOT com

INCLUDE YOUR REAL NAME AND MAILING ADDRESS, you morons.

The drawing will be totally random, but if Hostagettes send me sexy pictures (of themselves, not farm animals) at that address, who knows what pleasant turns fate may take in terms of who you get sentenced with?  **looks at MCPO and his standing request for a box of Depends**

So sign up today so I can get the emails out this weekend, and get back to planning my holiday season: