Showing posts with label GWB. Show all posts
Showing posts with label GWB. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Vicarious Hunting

GWB's new dog, Jeb & ducks

One of the reasons there hasn't been any hunting posts on this blog for far too long is that I haven't been out hunting. Riding? Yes. Shooting? Yes, but not as much as I'd like, mostly .22 plinking, to be honest.

But I can live vicariously through my linguistic philosopher friend GWB, who made good use of duck season to get out in the field with his new dog Jeb and a cheap but cheerful Mossberg 12 pump action ($150 from Academy).

Good duck result, GWB! Inspired now to get out and hunt once the weather clears.

Speaking of hunting, check out Whitetail Woods - Rick's excellent blog.

Written from the Ice Cave,


Tuesday, May 18, 2010

That Great Leviathan

Drove off into a storm with my Wittgensteinian friend GWB, an all 'round sportsman, to go fishing.

Got through the storm to the lake,

and caught some fish.

And for me, that was an excellent result. Must go fishing far more often.

God bless,


Friday, January 1, 2010

Hog Poem

Thanks, GWB, for this New Year Hog Poem - with apologies to the Confederate dead:

There is no crying allowed here past midnight,
But only hogs,
Flying, plunge and expire,
Here by the sagging gate,
Stopped by the wall.

Good hunting,


Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Twilight Of The Birds

Sunset over the killing fields
Tragic metaphor for the Anglican Communion?

Managed to get out with a gun and have a go at the birds. There weren't many flyers and I missed rather more than I hit; still, got enough for a decent dove snack tomorrow. And all that's more than fine by me because I love shooting - hit or miss - and I love getting out in the country. I find there's a freedom in it. Anyway, hope to revisit the fowling grounds on Friday for more dove and maybe a rabbit or two; saw lots this evening but held off.

On another theme, my philosopher friend GWB alerted me to Wittgenstein's contempt of Mahler; who'd have thought it? Here's what he said:

“If it is true that Mahler’s music is worthless, as I believe to be the case, then the question is what I think he ought to have done with his talent. For quite obviously it took a set of very rare talents to produce this bad music.”

I don't have a dog in the fight, so to speak, because I don't listen to the despised Mahler, but I like the quote. Just think, you could swap out 'Mahler' and 'music' for 'The Archbishop of Canterbury' and 'theology', or 'Ragsdale' and 'ethics', or 'ACORN' and... etc.

Good shooting.


Friday, August 21, 2009

Wild Evil Hogs

Big dead pig
Outrageously Huge Hog

The picture above was tagged 'white trash.' Here's Mr. Auden's comment on that:

The wild evil hogs draw near;

The weather smells of their hate

And the houses smell of our fear;

Death has opened his white eye

And the black hole calls the thief

As the wild evil hogs draw near.

Ravens alight on the wall,

Our plans have all gone awry,

The rains will arrive too late,

Our resourceful general

Fell down dead as he drank

And his horses died of grief,

Our navy sailed away and sank;

The wild evil hogs draw near.

Just a bit of hog poetry, innit. Thanks, GWB, for the insight. In the meanwhile local swine are lying low(ish), but the fight's not over, not by any means.

Doves in a few weeks.


Wednesday, August 5, 2009

Hog Poem, Innit.


My good friend GWB, philosopher, theologian, shooter, fisherman and fowler, has been branching out into verse and turned in this number about the tuskers. With apologies to The Cause and Mr. Tate:

You know who have waited by the wall

The twilight certainty of an animal,

Those midnight restitutions of the blood

You know--the immitigable pines, the smoky frieze

Of the sky, the sudden call: you know the rage,

The cold pool left by the mounting flood,

Of muted Zeno and Parmenides.

You who have waited for the angry resolution

Of those desires that should be yours tomorrow,

You know the unimportant shrift of death

And praise the vision

And praise the arrogant circumstance

Of those who fall

Rank upon rank, hurried beyond decision--

Here by the sagging gate, stopped by the wall.

Seeing, seeing only the hogs

Flying, plunge and expire

Well, one word's original and that makes all the difference. Thanks, GWB, for the line and Mr. Tate for genius.
God bless,
PS. Go to Virtual Mirage for an amusing Cell Phone Karma video. Thanks LL.

Wednesday, July 29, 2009


Picture from Sniper's Hide Forum:

I know this is shameless advertising for Thompson Center firearms - but, I'd like to own one of their "Warlord" tactical rifles, chambered in .308. The problem is, they cost around $3000, which I don't have... So I guess I'll have to add it to my L1A1, M14, Mforgery etc. wish list of useful and important things to get.

In the meanwhile, had a pleasant armed excursion into the country yesterday to fight off the perennial porcine menace. More of that later; off to GWB's to collect a Winchester Mod. 70 Featherweight for sighting in at a range on Friday. GWB's too lazy to do this, for some reason. He claims this is because of "relationship issues" and spends most of his time writing poetry about shooting hogs. I'll post some for your amusement & edification.

Excuse what SBW calls "Gun Pron".



Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Huge Great Fish

Here's GWB with a sizable fish. He'd gone off to Galvestone for some angling action and got it, by the look of things. The catch ended up on the grill. Nice. I understand he caught a small shark too; I'll post the picture when I get it.

This reminds me to stop being lazy and get out on the water - excellent relaxation, exciting when you get something (rare for me) and tasty with it.

Good result GWB.



Saturday, May 30, 2009

What a Plinker!

You know what they say, "Practice makes perfect", and I guess that's as true of shooting as anything else, so I like to keep my skills up - well, get some even, by going out in the field to plink about at targets. Mostly I drive to  my Treasurer's ranch and shoot up against hay bales - its good to visit with him (a fund of wisdom and kindness) then move off to get some targets.

The problem is, its not cheap. Taking any large caliber weapon out for pratice costs money and, for me, lots of it - that's if you can even get the ammo, which isn't easy. Very frustrating, leading innevitably to... the .22. Cheap, fun and it keeps your aim in.

With that in mind, I prefer company and get it sometimes in the bearded form of GWB, who tested his semi-auto Browning Takedown out on the feed sacks to good success. I love the Browning; elegant, pretty accurate and the first rifle I ever shot, with my Uncle on some land around Denton in the '70s. Anyway, you can see one leaning up against the tail gate of the truck. I tried out a pawn shop special, a bolt action JC Higgins, and the results were good; vastly dead Remington ammo carton and several Quarters who came up against me on sticks. Great enjoyment.

Moral of the story? Don't scorn the humble .22. Bolt action or semi? Both are good.

Have a blessed Feast of Pentecost.