Fullbore Friday

Barely six-weeks old, our retreat and national humiliation in Afghanistan for many of us has been

I wrote the below almost exactly six years ago when we left a base that in my professional swan song, I had a lot invested in. 

Yep, that's my picture to here put as a reference point in time in late '08/early '09.

Intersting to read how my feelings were in 2014 almost a warm-up for the feelings I continue to have about what we did to the effort as a whole in AFG. I'm still not fully settled on the issue.

Anyway, if you are so inclined, join me in a quick return to OCT 2014.

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I will be, uncharacteristically perhaps, brief for today's FbF.

I actually had a rather long post written, and then deleted it. Most of it really didn't need to be published, and the public consumption part most of the regulars here know; know my view of what was done to move the difficult but winnable Afghan war in one speech in DEC09 to a hopeless cause.

Don't try to fight it out either way in comments. I'm in no mood to play with tired arguments from people are at best are just temporally disjointed, ignorant, or at worst just petty trolls.

Instead of all that non-productive crap, I decided to think of the good memories of Camp Bastion/Leatherneck as I knew it here. That cross between the surface of Mars and Moon Base Alpha. 

Two visits stand out the most. The two days of heartburn when I had following my overly enthusiastic breakfast with the Brits after not sleeping for the better parts of two days. Beans, stewed tomatoes, butter soaked dry toast and some kind of sausage on a stomach like that only prepped with black coffee in a dehydration was ... well ... what it was.

In a little more than four months before I hung up the uniform for good, Bastion was the pivot point in my last, "Screw the USAF, I'll figure this out myself" adventure.

Being stuck in Qatar after a conference; needing to get back to Kabul yesterday; a "two week delay" to get a flight back; staying all night after most everyone else gave up, and convincing a C-17 loadmaster in the middle of the night to open just a few seats in their "cargo only" flight - in a few minutes he came back after checking with the aircraft commander with a thumbs up. Had 5-minutes to get on. It was one of those, "Yes, I need to get to Kabul, but for now I just need to get in to AFG. I'll find my way to Kabul from there." moments.  

On the way, with a smug, "I told you I could do this" grin on my face, I walked around the lost souls hanging on hope in the wee hours I had met that day, grabbed a SEABEE CO and CMDCM who needed to get to their command who I told to wait with me as I was "feeling lucky," another lost O-5 Navy type who, like me, refused to accept that we had to wait two weeks, and a female USAF E-4 who was just lost not knowing what to do. With my team of misfit toys in tow, we followed the loadmaster to the C-17 and, like the cat who ate the canary, just nodded at each other as wheels when up, and fell asleep. Only the SEABEEs actually needed to get to Bastion - the rest of us other places. 

Sure enough, we got to Bastion in that C-17, shook hands and went our separate ways. My plan was that I had no plan, but hey - at least I was in AFG. Thing is, when alone and needing help - always look to family. The USMC was there. I knew right where to go.

Walked over in what was in '09 just a tent next to the taxi way, to USMC flight ops to see what was going to Kabul or Baghran - and generally to hang out in a place I knew I would be welcome, even if I was just a USN terminal O5 staff weenie a log way from his desk. 

"Nothing due today." Said the Marine looking at the ink board for today's flights, when all of a sudden we heard the distinct sound of a recently landed C-130 in beta. "Who is that?" I asked. "We have no idea."

Funny but longish story later; an ANG C-130 was dropping off one pallet and then flying empty to Baghran. I asked if I could have a ride, the nice Major said, "Sure." They said as long as I was willing to do a "combat dropoff" or whatever it is called when they keep all four burning and drop the ramp for people to run off; they'd stop in Kabul to drop me off. Just me.

And so, I found my way back to Kabul, not only two weeks earlier than the pogues in Qatar said I would - but 10-days earlier than the US Army Majors I traveled to Qatar with - but didn't think I could work the system, so headed off to the tent to snooze. They may have been SAMS graduates, but they didn't have that Navy, "I'll figure it out when I get there." sense of adventure. 

What a way to return to Kabul; a special flight in to Kabul all by myself, with a big sh1t-eating grin trotting off the back of a C-130 that didn't even bother to shut down - and before I was even past the tail of the aircraft, the ramp was coming up and the plane was taxiing. 

That was the last C-130 flight I would take, heck of a way to end that run. Still makes me smile.

A call to HQ ISAF, a USAF E-5, a Kiwi and a RAF guy pick me up in a Land Rover, and back to the HQ to finish up what was, in hindsight, thrown away by small, blinkered men. We tried.

Sigh. That was when we were in the middle of getting everything up to speed for the surge and we were all optimistic about the future. Few of us thought that Obama would quit later that year.

The days of SEABEEs, Red Horse, Rhino Snot, worldwide shortage of airport matting, and the Karzai family's cornering of the rock crushing market. Good times, good times.

That is my small, insignificant, staff weenie memory of Bastion/Leatherneck - but that isn't the story of that base. 

You could fill up years of FbF with the sacrifice of the US, UK, and allied servicemembers who served there. Doing their job as best as they were allowed - but largely untold by a bored nation, distracted leadership, and a largely indifferent culture.

Yes, the above is the short post. I'm just going to end it with the videos below. I frankly, just don't know what else to say. 

All that fighting, great fighting, that so few know about, and even fewer care. BZ to all - we did what we could and at least some of us, those who served with you and others who didn't but made the effort to find out, know. 

The rest can go pack sand.

Pause, ponder, and reflect.



This.

Staff Sergeant Kenneth Oswood, of Romney, West Virginia, is one of the few members of the squadron who participated in both the Iraq withdrawal and Monday's Helmand airlift.

"It's a lot different this time .... Closing out Iraq, when we got there, we were told there hadn't been a shot fired in anger at us in years. And then you come here and they are still shooting at us," Oswood said.

"It's almost like it's not over here, and we're just kind of handing it over to someone else to fight."

Talking China With the Brits and Aussies

In case you missed it, I had an opportunity to visit on someone else's podcast recently. Dr. Alex Clarke, Drachinifel, and Jamie Seidel so kindly invited me in for a chat. I had a great time. What did we talk about?

Today we are joined by the highly esteemed CDR Salamander for a two-part show that can best be described as what would happen if you sat four naval history geeks down in a room and gave them endless drinks, snacks, and told them to fix what was wrong with navies today. Although, we're not in the same room, not even the same time zone, and definitely not the same continent. Alongside our love of naval history, one of us boxes with springy creatures and fights daily battles with ravenous wildlife, another builds model railways, the third's Australian, and the special guest hobby farms something the size of most UK dairy farms. 

So after all that what is Episode 14 about? Well the #Bilgepumps team is being topical, so the Chinese fleet is massive, ever growing – more as an employment mechanism than a sensible strategy, but how does the west counter that? CDR Salamander joins us to help divine the answer.

You can listen below, or at this link.

NavyCon-2 - Electric Boogaloo

If your news feed is anything like mine, then I know you are looking for a break from ... well ... all of that. Good news, do we have a treat to brighten up your week!

Tomorrow, Thursday, the US Naval Academy Museum is hosting, virtually in this time of pandemic, its second NavyCon.

This NavyCon's theme is, "Navies, Science Fiction, and Great Power Competition."

There is a great line up of guests and special appearances. You don't have to be a science fiction fan to enjoy what is on offer.

It starts 1900 Eastern via Zoom, so click here to register. Attendance is limited, so don't wait too long.

To get a full flavor of the lineup for guests and special appearances, click here.

You'll recognize a few names, and meet some new personalities.

Even your 'ole blogg'r Sal has a brief appearance.

Don't miss it!

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UPDATE: Here was my brief special appearance at NavyCon2020, answering the question, "Why is it legitimate to study science fiction."

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You can see the whole show here:

EMCON A

Hey there folks ... I have not had to do this for awhile, but things are going to go quiet here for about a week or so.

Everything is fine and I am well, I think, but I just have to drop off the grid for awhile.

For those who follow me on twitter, I may weigh in now and then there as the opportunity presents itself, but not that much.

What I won't have the ability to do is post anything of substance here.

Lord willing and the Creek don't rise, I'll be back here in a week or so - and we have a Midrats scheduled on the 15th of March ... so let not your heart be troubled.

Set the troll watch for me in comments and remember to wash your hands as much as you can.

Don't abandon the blog ... we'll pick up right where we left off next week.

As always, thank you to the Front Porch for being you, and I look forward to bouncing ideas off the bulkhead with you again in a bit.

No, you can't get enough Salamander, really.

The kiddies over at The Salty Herald invited me over to play last night for a bit over an hour.

Great conversation for over an hour ... and I had the chance to throw a little love over to you folks on the Front Porch who make this whole blogg'n thing worthwhile.

It's a good listen, I hope.

Hey, it's 2018 ... and all is well

Remember how 2017 was supposed to be the year where everything went off the rails? When Trump's election had everyone who didn't vote for him, and some who did, in a funk?

Look around you. 2018 is here and we are remarkably well. The Long War is not getting worse. The economy is the best its been in a decade. Sure, you can pick around the edges for some not so great stuff, but the bold faced items are more than not OK.

Regardless if you give this politician or political party no, some, partial or all credit - it does not matter. Take some time and simply enjoy the fact that you are alive in one of the best times in human history.

Last week, Jonah Goldberg said it well;

If you were hovering above Earth looking to be born randomly into any time period in human history, you’d pick now if you had any brains. And if you could pick a place, you’d pick a Western liberal democracy, and probably the United States of America (though as much as it pains me to say it, you wouldn’t be crazy to pick Canada or the U.K. or Holland). Sure, if you could pick being rich, white, and male — and didn’t really care too much about the plight of others — you might take the 1950s. But even then, your choices for food, entertainment, etc. would be terribly curtailed compared to today. If you chose to be a billionaire in 1917, you could still die from a minor infection, and good Thai food would be entirely unknown to you. You’d certainly never enjoy watching a Star Wars movie on an IMAX screen in air conditioning. In other words, while your homes would be bigger and cooler if you were a billionaire in 1917, a typical orthodontist in Peoria in 2017 is in many respects much richer than a billionaire a century earlier. Still, that’s not the deal on offer. You have to buy an incarnation lottery ticket, and the results would be random. I’m not big on dividing people up by abstract categories, and I certainly don’t mean them to be pejorative. But as a historical matter, being born poor, gay, black, Jewish, ugly, weird, handicapped, etc. today may certainly come with some problems or challenges, but on the whole those traits are less of a shackle or barrier than at any time in the past. The only trait where I think it might be a closer call is dumbness. All other things being equal, a not-terribly-intelligent person with a good work ethic and some decent values might have had more opportunities before machines replaced strong backs. But even here, I can think of lots of exceptions.

As I bask in my day off doing a bunch of nothing, I will try to keep that in mind as I look forward to 2018.

Sure, the wheels may come off at some point - but they probably won't any time soon. I've done all I can do, so why not enjoy the good while it is here? The bad times will come back - they always do - but for now, it is time to enjoy.

Here's to what I hope, for you and me and ours, will be a great year.

Fullbore Friday

While we are still in the WWI frame of mind, I needed to take at least one more opportunity to give a nod to both of my Grandfathers who served in the Navy in WWI. 

My maternal Grandfather never left CONUS, but my paternal Grandfather did - he served on the USS ARKANSAS (BB-33) through her service Battleship Division NINE as part of the Royal Navy's Grand Fleet's Sixth Battle Squadron. I've blogged about ARKANSAS a few times, click here for a review if you wish.

Sadly, I don't have any pictures of him ... just paper records. Thanks to our friends at NHHC, we do have access to some of the archive of pictures and I have found this one. Pops was on the ARKANSAS at this time. A very small chance he is in this picture, but his Shipmates are. Those he went to war with for that short, quiet, but important deployment at the very end of the Great War. At least one of these young men would have recognized Pops if he walked by him ... that is good enough for me.

As we, the guilty party here BTW, occasionally throw barbs at the hesitancy and apparent selfishness of our allies today, we should try to humble ourselves with the knowledge that we have the same habits - a review of Battleship Division NINE demonstrates that well.

That is part of our history too ... but for now, I just want to take a moment to give a nod to my Pops and his Shipmates, and the unmitigated glory it must have been being at sea with ARKANSAS, WYOMING, TEXAS, NEW YORK, & FLORIDA (NB: DELAWARE was replaced by ARKANSAS).

Sunday Funnies

Post by Tom Goering.

Hat tip Tom G, context here.

About that Iranian nuclear deal ...

This is all rather simple. Once again, we were played. We have sent yet another weak signal, pushed hard decisions down the road where they will be harder, punished our friends and rewarded our enemies.

The Iranians will never do what we want them to do - they will do what they want to do, and that is to become nuclear.

The future is still clear, the 2nd and 3rd order effects are predictable. In order to save time, I am simply going to quote myself from 2006, seven years ago.

Nothing. Has. Changed.

The Sunni powers will not let this stand. I would hope that many of you understand the 30-years war and what that was all about. Now picture if the Catholic and Protestant powers had nukes. Well, they were progressive minded people compared to the Jim Jones like cult that is running Iran right now. Though they really want to go Persian Empire on everyone, the Iranian issues is more religious than political. That is where the danger lies. Politicians understand negotiation and compromise. They understand give and take. Religious fundamentalists don't. They were binary before binary existed. If fundamentalists Iran gets nukes. Those who see themselves as the defenders of Sunni Islam and/or share a border with Iran, will not let that stand.
...
When they (the Iranians) go "click-boom" the chain reaction will follow - Saudi Arabia and Egypt will be next. To the Mullahs of Iran you can add the Wahhabi of Saudi Arabia and Muslim Brotherhood of Egypt.

Yes, 2006. I thought the Muslim Brotherhood would have more staying power, but Egypt will react as Egypt needs to, regardless of who is at the levers.

We have a little time here. We have options. Don't ask me which is best; they are all bad.

Well - thanks for a little cyberwar, we have a little more time than we thought ... but the only people who have time in their favor now are the Iranians.

I still don't have the right answer, but I know what is the wrong answer; showing weakness to the Iranians.

The Kids Turned the Tables on Me!

For the regular listeners of Midrats, you may find it a bit funny to find me on the other side of the microphone.

The good folks over at CIMSEC were kind enough to invite me on their podcast for a visit. 

Matt and Grant made the mistake of giving me an open mic and a quasi captive audience.

What could go wrong?

A Few Days of Funk

So, I'm sitting here late on a Tuesday night trying to figure out what I wanted to pontificate about for Wednesday, but I'm in a funk. I've been that was since Sunday afternoon. I don't have writers block, there is plenty I want to type out, but frankly I just don't have the desire to let it come out of the nogg'n and on to the keyboard.

I really have no reason for being in a funk, I'm so blessed it's stupid. But funk-wise, I seem to be in fairly good company. It didn't help my funk any, but Monday AM I found Karim Delgado's work.

Spend some time bouncing around his site a bit. I especially recommend his short b-roll film, "Humans of Afghanistan."

... I think I’ve come to realize that here in the West, people’s opinions about the region, its people and the war have really congealed into this sickening sort of knee-jerk bring-the-troops-home or these-colors-don’t-run blather that ignores the humanity of everyone involved. I think it’s very easy to ignore people when we don’t want to genuinely confront the difficult questions that come with acknowledging their existence. It’s easy, but it’s wrong.

I don’t want to tell people what to think about this war, whether it’s good or evil — that would be an arrogant presumption on my part and I’ve learned from Afghanistan that nothing is so unambiguous — but I want them to think of the broader implications for humanity in their considerations of where we should go from here. We can’t always avoid making mistakes but we can at least avoid being uninformed. And that means more than reading the news. It means understanding the people.

What he said. Here it is.



This Wednesday my goal is to go to bed early and wake up unfunkified.
If not, I'll try cat-blogging or rainbow riding unicorns shi'it'n skiddles picture posting. 

Hat tip bbc.

Did you just call me a Cracker?

Well, if you did; come over here and let me hug your sweet self.

I have, wisely I think, avoided any discussion of the Zimmerman trial. The news of the last few days though has, unwisely I think, led me to believe that I at least need to help the rest of the nation in on a little regional sub-culture secret; “Cracker” is not an insult, but “Cracka” – to be phonetically correct - is.

Cracker is a regional description on par with its cousin Cajun. To the uninitiated, a Cracker is a word that was used to describe the early Western settlers of North and Central Florida (anything south of the I-4 corridor does not count). It is only racial in that most all of them were Scot-Irish-English settlers coming in after the American Revolution, or – like my wife’s family – mixed race escapees from Texas and the near-South West looking for good land and less bloodshed in the post Civil War era. Today, it is just a word to describe a native of North Florida and North-Central Florida. Heck, we even have our own food.

Crackers made a living in Florida through the pre-WWII heat, Yellow fever, malaria, poor soil, and huge hurricanes that came without warning. Tough folks making a living off timber, naval stores, fishing, cattle, and small plot farming. They have the Scot-Irish irascibility combined with a refugee’s distrust of government types and do-gooders. Quick to love, quick to fight, and quick to tell you to mind your own business – my type of people.

Technically, though in self-denial as I am fully citified, I am a Cracker – and quite happy with that description, proud of it as a matter of fact. Though on the margins as Sanford is astride the I-4 corridor, Mr. Zimmerman is a Cracker too – but just technically as like me his family really comes from somewhere else. Hispanic? Heck, look at the Civil War Memorial in downtown St. Augustine – Florida was Hispanic when Hispanic was just “neighbor” – and here, that is really still true as it has been for half a millennia.

All that background and such, that isn’t what we are talking about. What happened yesterday was the use of the word “Cracka.” That word came from outside and has drifted in; it is not the same as “Cracker” – but another toxic gift from the 1960s where it became the other end of the color wheel from “N1gger.” (the “1” is there to avoid the goo that comes from search engines, for the record).
Full stop. Just replace one word for the other, and that is exactly what it means.

For the record, as “there” “their” “they’re” are similar and “niggardly,” “Niger,” and for my Spanish speaking friends know, “Negro” have a similar cadence, but they should not be thrown away simply because the ignorant, racist, and hateful like to use a word that sounds similar.

Back to Cracker. No need to go in to the different types of Crackers today, I don’t want to bore you. There are Swamp Crackers, Dirt Floor Crackers, Cow Crackers …and so on. All that said, call me a Cracker all day long, fine with me. Just don’t call me a Coonass, that’s Byron.

Now, call me a “Cracka” – well, if you do that, you’re just showing your a55. That bad is on you. I’ll just shake my head and pray for you.

But, and if you call me that while you attack me in my neighborhood, you’ll get shot. That is part of Cracker culture as well.

There; your multi-cultural moment of the day. Wait … did I say Dirt Floor Cracker?

Salamander Woman of the Week: Laura Byrnes

Now and then I read something like this, and I feel a lot better about what I have done since 2004, and why I have done it.

I am not longer in "deep cover" and 100% anon, and haven't been for the last 4 years. Many of the front porch know my very normal and garden variety self - but I don't walk around blaring it all over the place. Part of that is an online branding, part of that is I am comfortable with my alter-ego, part of it is I don't want it to be about "me" but about the ideas - and part of it is the fact I don't want to deal with all bother.

Laura though is a much braver person than I am, and her post is a must read not only for those who write opinion, but those who actively participate in the creative friction online. Here is just a taste;

I am opinionated, and I stand up for others. When called for, I stand up for myself. I don’t see myself as the only person who can or should be doing these things, and so I actively encourage others to do the same.

I’ve noticed a few problems that seem to come up as a result of my being open and genuine online:
...
I am very frequently told that *because* I have a platform, I should stay silent or risk being seen as “unprofessional”. I am told that my opinionated nature will hurt my business - in many cases, this is said in a very shaming and punitive way, as in “Well I’m sure once people see what you’ve written you’ll surely lose business”.

When I talk about this phenomena to well meaning friends, the phrase “You put yourself out there” will inevitably come up.

And it annoys me every time. Here’s why:

I reject the idea that if you distinguish yourself in any way - be it through your words online or because you wrote a best selling novel or a #1 hit - you forfeit the right to live as a fully formed human with feelings and opinions. That because you have more people listening to what you have to say, you must be sure not to say anything that might trigger an attack, and if you do? Well, you put yourself out there.
...
Someone attacks you for their own warped reasons, but it’s your fault because you have fans and opinions. Or because you chose a career in fashion, music, or film.

You dared to be pretty, smart, funny, or opinionated in public, so you get what you deserve. It “comes with the territory”. You “put yourself out there”.

Well I say, fuck the territory. I HAVE put myself out there, and I see the territory is infested with rats. I’m not going to shut up and let the vermin run rampant, I’m going to say “Look at all these rats, they need to go”.

... it is your imperative to speak up and stand up, no matter who you are, no matter what they say the “territory” is like.

Change the territory. Clean out the vermin. The only way to do this is by STANDING UP.

Hat tip Chap.

Sunday Funnies

In a just world ...


Extra internets for those who can identify all the faces. Extra-extra, mo-bett'ah internets if you can identify all the bodies as well.

Hat tip Tom.

Sunday Funnies

In a just world ....



Hat tip Tom.

I am humbled by the honor ...

Hey, don't I get a gratuity or at least a comp on this?

Please Save the Date: Feb. 7, 2012

On Tuesday, Feb. 7, Gibbs Technologies will unveil Phibian – one of the largest and fastest amphibians ever built – at an event preceding the annual American Society of Naval Engineers conference. Phibian is a high-speed amphibian (HSA) with humanitarian and military capabilities. It can travel on land at speeds in excess of 50 mph and more than 40 mph on water.

Please join us at 1 p.m. (13:00) for a special presentation at the Columbia Island Marina in Washington, D.C. At the event you’ll have an opportunity to ride in Phibian and experience HSA technology for yourself.

Look for additional details soon. To reserve a spot, or if you have questions, please contact MSL Detroit in care of Katie Barnes (katie.barnes@mslgroup.com) or Stephanie Lowet (s_lowet@verizon.net).

Hat tip Maggie.

A Thursday

Thanks. That is it for today; a very American holiday methinks.

I am thankful that no war has been fought within sight of my town since 1942. No army has occupied it in 146 years.

My wife did not die in childbirth. My daughter can choose her own future.

I have a good dentist and my water is safe.

I made it through over two decades in military service, intact.

I live in a fashion that for the vast majority of the world is so free and safe as to be almost unimaginable.

The least among my countrymen have more than the best of most. My blessings are almost shameful.

None of this happened by accident, and here I am; unworthy and with much work to do.

That is the feeling, in a fashion

The military tries to explain it to families on pre-deployment meetings. Senior spouses try to explain it to new spouses, with various degrees of success, what is coming back. No one can really do a good job.

Lucky for me, Mrs. Salamander has always been the very sensible type, a much better person than me in so many ways. As with all good partners in life, she knew more often than not when to give me space, when to draw closer; when to speak, when just to be.

Lucky for her I guess, according to her I am/was and hopefully will be fairly low maintenance. Flinty now and then, but on average easy to read - at least for her.

There is something though about coming back from deployment. In peace or at war - peaceful or not - that can change a person. If not for good, then for a transition period.

Some wonder why, after months together, some only feel better socializing with their Shipmates. Even if they weren't on your deployment - just other people who have deployed. There are reasons at larger gatherings, military or ex-military will group together. Hard to explain why - but there is a quick bond between those who serve and for many - a parting from those who have not.

I have never seen it written about well. Much of it is caged in psychobabble or snuggy-huggy in ways that make it but fried air - of no use to those who deployed or those who welcome them back.

I found something that gets close to capturing one aspect - one angle - of a complicated mental state. I found it in a classic - one that I am listening to in my travels; Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness.

Here it is for you to ponder next time you wonder what is behind the silence and distance;

I found myself back in the sepulchral city resenting the sight of people hurrying through the streets to filch a little money from each other, to devour their infamous cookery, to gulp their unwholesome beer, to dream their insignificant and silly dreams. They trespassed upon my thoughts. They were intruders whose knowledge of life was to me an irritating pretence, because I felt so sure they could not possibly know the things I knew.

Their bearing, which was simply the bearing of commonplace individuals going about their business in the assurance of perfect safety, was offensive to me like the outrageous flauntings of folly in the face of a danger it is unable to comprehend.

I had no particular desire to enlighten them, but I had some difficulty in restraining myself from laughing in their faces so full of stupid importance.

I daresay I was not very well at that time. I tottered about the streets -- there were various affairs to settle -- grinning bitterly at perfectly respectable persons. I admit my behaviour was inexcusable, but then my temperature was seldom normal in these days.

My dear aunt's endeavours to 'nurse up my strength' seemed altogether beside the mark. It was not my strength that wanted nursing, it was my imagination that wanted soothing.

In the first few months after you leave active duty - the feelings are not unlike returning from deployment. Different, but especially if you wade as I have up to your ears in a civilian undertaking; similar.

There; Sal's moody moment of the month.

EMCON Bravo

Folks, I am about to drop in to places with limited IP connectivity until the middle of next week. I may be able to pop in and out of comments here and there - but I won't be able to post on late breaking news.

Don't worry though - I have pre-loaded posts for each day, so keep coming back. There are all sorts of goodies waiting for you. We're also having a Midrats best-of on Russia this Sunday at 5pm - so don't miss that either.

Set the troll watch and I'll see you next week.

Joining the 21st Century

Last week, Galrahn looked at me like I told him I wear a thong when I told him I don't have a link on my site where people can subscribe via email.

Well ... I won't comment further on my unmentionables - but if you would like to get email notifications of the next CDRSalamander post as they come out - then click here or just follow the click on the upper-right hand side of the page.

See, I'm trainable.