Yeh, but. The very words crawl along my spine like a spiked serpent sent from its master Lucifer ( not a big fan of snakes who obviously have to be spawns of Satan because I can’t figure out any good reason for them to be here. Okay, so they eat, say, mice. So do cats and birds. What do we need that snake for? We’re inclined towards species extinction, let’s get rid of an animal we have no use for. As opposed to like buffalo which make tasty eating and are a much better use of the prairie than suburbs or soy beans ). Now, I understand that the job of a step parent is as close to thankless as you can get. The only other position that is worse is that of husband. You can work all day, come home and do chores, then instead of being able to relax for a few hours you must endure hours long screeching as the wife shares her day with you which as far as you can figure out mainly consists of sitting around eating bonbons and watching soap operas. Anyway, I know a stepdad is a position entailing abuse and disfavor. No matter. You ain’t being nice because you like the little fool but because mom is to be wooed and wined and dined so you can tap that ass. Until the kid grows up and the wife doesn’t really need you anymore so she starts eating bonbons and that ass not only is the size of Cleveland but it also seems to be permanently closed for business.
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Well, I really did like my stepdaughter. She was pretty cool people. A pain in the ass, you had to watch her like a hawk around anything valuable, but I always thought of her like another real daughter. But the one thing that annoyed me beyond endurance was her favorite saying, “yeh, but…”. You tell her something and she was “yeh, but…” and she went off on some tangent why she might agree with you but in this case it didn’t apply and here was the lengthy explanation as to why. “I thought you told me you would clean your room?” “Yeh, but you see I was really busy and I was doing this other thing Mom said and then it was bedtime and blah, blah, blah”. You get the picture. Well, the other day I’m reading The Globes Premier Yuppie Scum Survival Site and here was a guy talking about how he was as ancient as dirt and about as poor as same, so he chose the rimefire as a defense arm so that he could constantly practice affordably and hence achieve face/neck hits and make up for the rounds natural weakness. You would think this was a pretty straightforward and logical plan. I thought it was brilliant. If your big, bad, mighty and righteous Dirty Harry killing machine kicked like a mule, you couldn’t hit anything so the stopping power was wasted. And if the box of ammo was too expensive, you never could practice to be able to hit anything. Immediately, the chorus of “Yeh, But’s” started.
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Our intrepid site owner opined that while he didn’t agree with the rimfire as a defensive round he felt that if you had 30 rounds in your pistol you just might stand a chance of survival. Well, color me an ignorant bastard since I never went to uptown school, but didn’t the guy just say he was poor and he was practicing for precision placement? As in, I can’t afford a five hundred dollar pistol with $50 mags and I don’t need all that many shots to tear out his throat. I guess when all you preach is expensive survival you can’t conceive of anything cheap working. I understand that the unstated standard of post-apocalypse defense is to scare the opposition with a terrible noise from irreplaceable ammunition, but not all of us can afford to be so well equipped. We might actually just choose to make every shot count. Then, the next day, cheered on by their prophet, the readers start chiming in with a deafening chorus of “yeh, but’s”. One guy blathers on about how they really suck for power but they were far better than a rimfire and lists a bunch of barely pistol calibers like the 380. Do these people actually absorb what they are reading? The point is both controllability and affordability. Which is the rimfire and nothing else. The original author didn’t talk about the cheapest standard centerfire pistol round, he was making an explicit case for rimfire. “Yeh, but, see, the 22 just won’t do it. You need X, Y or Z round as a minimum. Buy in bulk, then it will only be ten cents a round instead of twenty.” You humping moron. What if you can’t afford ten cents a round but only three? Was this not clear enough?
I’m not trying to be too harsh. I’m sure we are all guilty of Yeh, But’s even if we try to actually pay attention. But it seems to me that this example highlights both dogmatic blindness and a serious lack of imagination. These people seem to be in a Happy Place that could prove a bit dangerous. When you are so wedded to one idea and one only, you have no idea what to do when everyone else’s reality doesn’t sync up with yours. If spending money, an impossible amount of money, is your only way of solving problems, you might be in trouble come hyperinflation, job loss, prolonged bank holidays or grid down. This kind of thinking just simply chaps my ass.
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