Category Archives: Remarks

O all ye Beasts and Cattle, bless ye the Lord

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“What? I’m supposed to look where? At Da? At Mama?”

O ye Whales, and all that move in the Waters, bless ye the Lord: / praise him, and magnify him for ever.
O all ye Fowls of the Air, bless ye the Lord: / praise him, and magnify him for ever.
O all ye Beasts and Cattle, bless ye the Lord: / praise him, and magnify him for ever.
O ye Children of Men, bless ye the Lord: / praise him, and magnify him for ever.

BENEDICITE, OMNIA OPERA.

~ ITEM: FEELING MORAL, by J. Budziszewski

~ ITEM: BOOK– How Dogs Think: What the World Looks Like to Them and Why They Act the Way They Do, by Stanley Coren

~ ITEM: How Dogs Learn, How Dogs Think

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~ TRUTH BE TOLD, I do love ma wee doggie, Wee Wallace*. But, he’s a dog.

A creature of God, undoubtedly; a great companion; a funny little social being in his own way; a tiny wolf living in my home, who has literally saved my life. In 2009 when we got him (at the clamour of suddenly dog-loving twin Binklings), I’d been largely couch-bound for 6 years. Then, walkies.

Still and all, he’s a dog— nothing more, and nothing less. Not a human; not a fur-child (both options are lazy and wrong-headed and sentimental); not superior in the order of being; unlike my wife or kids, if he gets super-expensively sick, it’s the needle, not the bankloan. Treating him doggily is fair & proper– it is reality, not the often confusing mirage of feelings by which I seek to know him — then, all the feelings may follow the reality of his awesome little life as it really is.

Pitchforks & Torches!

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Go ahead– I’m horrid, heartless, ungrateful, crool, I don’t deserve him, blah blah blah. Well, nature is not constructed according to my human feelings, possible confusions, or popular misunderstandings. He’s a dog– so I should doggedly learn about him, doggy nature, doggy social life, general dogginess.

If I mistreat him as if he were a little child, or member of the family with an equal say, he– being a wolfish critter, i.e. dog– will assume that he’s the Alpha or Alpha-Beta in the ‘pack’, with serious doggie wolf-pack social duties including endlessly giving orders, bossing people around, getting food ahead of others, yapping and nipping and biting to get his orders obeyed, and much more.

That’s what happens with dogs, especially the small yappy nippy surly and demanding ones. Their humans have done them the huge and, to the actual pooches, confusing injustice of not letting them know their place, so they can operate happily there. We often treat our kids & young people the same way: unreal lack of limits or rules or place in the family life.

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I AM THE MASTER OF YOU!

Pity Thy Neighbour

There’s a nice man up the street who has one of these miserably confused beasts: part Bichon Frise, part Shih Tzu. I call her a Sh*tty-Frise.

He met me the other day walking his Precious Little Darling, who (of course) ignores Wee Wallace because he’s just a hairy smelly little DOG (whereas she, it seems, is a three or four year old human of some sort). Surreal.

“I was just out for a short walk”, says he, “but she decided different.” So, he continues to describe a nearly two mile trek he was dragged along, because the dog (clearly the boss in the relationship) decided the hairless monkey was going to follow her as long as she felt inclined to walk wherever she wanted. Alpha-dog attitude.

I said to the Missus after: it’s.. a.. Jeezly DOG!! Or, in our day, a cat, or-a-whatever pet. I’m the Alpha, Missus is the Alpha-Beta (dogs are not feminists, obviously), Wee Wallace is a whatever comes next down the line. NOT a fur-child. We did not ‘adopt’ him. D.O.G.

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It is part of our insanity, malaise, and confusion in this age that we have many many laws against cruelty to animals, but (in Canada, say) none regarding our own pre-born offspring. We have astonishing medical advances in doggy chemo & doggy radiation treatment and doggy medicines– and yet cannot be honest with actual women about the horrid effects of birth control, of abortion, and endlessly delaying childbearing. We will sentimentally treat little fluffikins like a human, a surrogate child, a full ‘member of the family’, and do not feel horror at the encroaching culture of death & medicalized murder called euthanasia, threatening the sick, the suffering, the imperfect, the elderly.

He’s a dog. No more, and certainly no less. ~

Saith Teh Binks

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“Hooza Gooddog? I think I know, Dad….”

* Following on my family habit, Wee Wallace has endless odd nick-names, not including ‘Nick’. He responds to most of the following: Wall, Wally, Walbert, Woglet, Wally Magoo, Weebles, Wobbles, Wobs, Woggitt, Dancin’ Dave, Dingus, Stink, Fungus, Craphound, Dog, Beast, Poodle, Killer, Wee Doggins, Destructor, Puppy, Pupper. Pupper-Doo, Pooch, Football, Evil Dog, Dementor, and Crazy-Bob. The latter two are for when he ferociously digs in his blankets as if tunnelling to the centre of the earth, or when he repeatedly races up and down the hallway as fast as mini-poodlishly possible. 

Yellow Brainwash

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Laird Harry MacLeggs Will Have His Say, The Noo!

~ ITEM: National Geographic, March 2015 article.

~ ITEM: Interview: Barry Marshall– Nobel Prize in Medicine

~ THE BINKS feels a wee rant coming on. Hold onto yer kilts.

OK, NatGeo.. we’ve had our tussles and misunderstandings down the years– you pandered for AlGore, climate alarmism, all the water is gone, giant storms a-comin’, blah blah blah. Feckwits.

And yet, in such, you merely keep asserting things that may or may not be true, and presenting only one side of the evidence, which is called ‘balance’ in this day and age, because data and discussion and different interpretations of theories makes some people cry. Here’s yer baby-blankets, ya wee bairns.

Now, I’m hoping to actually read this recent issue, which just arrived on the old Binks doorstep, thanks to a kind giver & friend… but just reading the cover already has my blood boiling, so there– now I have boiled blood.

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GRRRRRRR

Do you notice a few things in your front page list, ya wee numpties?

(1) All these things are not the same.

(2) ‘Science’ means study, evidence, theory, debate, discovery not “WE WON, SO SHUT UP!” or “Everybody in lock-step, or we bring the mock!”

(3) Thus, what your cover describes as a ‘THE WAR ON SCIENCE’ is not only bad science, but worse journalism.

(4) Stop pimping for the left-wing religion of eco-righteousness, because reality is right there behind you, mouth agape, chops well-licked, ready to bite you all right in the arse.

(5) NatGeo religion: “There aren’t really two sides to all these issues.” No. In any scientific matter, there are often many, many sides, over time. The idiots declaring “The Truth!” are acting like religious believers, not scientists. Bluidy eejits!

(6) What I said: The Lies Are Settled! Because Science!

Your Idiotic Cover

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“Maybe—except that evolution actually happened. Biology is incomprehensible without it. There aren’t really two sides to all these issues. Climate change is happening. Vaccines really do save lives. Being right does matter—and the science tribe has a long track record of getting things right in the end. Modern society is built on things it got right.”

So Please Just F*ck Right Off, Mmmmkay?

Climate Change Does Not Exist.

I know of nobody who believes this. The climate is always changing, right? Look out your window. However, if you meant “Anthropogenic CO2-caused global warming is not the final word in climatology“? Yes, you’ll find MOST scientists without their hand in the pocket of the taxpayer hold to that position on the data. Well done then, eejits.

Evolution Never Happened.

Well, evolution is a theory, not something carved in stone and handed down from the Most High. There are many, many theories about changes within or between species over time. Change happened, but how? Not certain. How long? Various. Causal factors? Still being discussed. If you mean “Darwinian-Style Evolution, so there’s no God“, then you’re either a dimwit, a neck-bearded internet atheist kid, or someone trying to sell something. No serious evolutionary anthropologist believes in actual Darwinism any more.

The Moon Landing Was Fake.

Not to the best of my knowledge. Are you thus placing skeptics and critics of the rest of the list on this same level? Very sly & sneaky, NatGeo! Nice slag. When threatened, then politics of personal destruction, shaming, and association with the most extreme conspiracy theorist always works. Shame on you, Nat Geo.

Vaccinations Can Lead To Autism.

Dunno. All medicines have side effects, some serious, and just because Big Pharma says ‘Trust Us!’ does not make me feel trustful: Thalidomide. Vaccination is a balanced risk– the possible danger of the thing itself, the possible dangers of the diseases vaccinated against, the possible dishonesty of medical corporations/ government. Are you, NatGeo, telling us to blindly trust Mother Medicine, ask no questions, do no research, have no review and refining of vaccines and contents & side-effects, ever, even by medical researchers, doctors, and experts NOT in the pay of Big Pharma itself? Really?!? Who can we trust on this one? Dunno: everybody seems to be either for sale, or dogmatic about it all.

Genetically Modified Food Is Evil.

Evil? As in ‘Muwahahahaha!!’? Nice play there: always make the position of critics as ridiculous as possible. Untested? Genetically new with unknown long-term consequences for the environment, animals & plant life, and humans, when the genetic material of what we eat can permeate the gut-barrier, and interact with our own genetic material? It’s possibly genetic plutonium, and we’re apparently advised by NatGeo to trust corporations like Monsanto, which has more than proven itself evil, litigious, greedy, monopolistic, super-secretive, nasty to farmers, and a threat to the actual bio-diversity of plant seeds– or else we’re kooks! And FrankenPharm are already sneaking GMOs into the food supply, because we’re all just lab rats with no rights. So, NatGeo: Monsanto is good, Monsanto is nice, they remake our food, and won’t give us a say? There are enough people with enough problems with ordinary old every-day food, but GMOs are awesomes! That’s probably why when some recent U.S. ballot initiatives called for GMO-labelling of products, BigPharm poured a lot of money into preventing people from having a say. Because they care.

Just One Example

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WHO’S a cute little bug?!

Remember: Everybody Knew™ at one point that stress led to excess stomach acid which was in turn the cause of heartburn, which led to peptic ulcers and even stomach cancer. So, pump the Pepto Bismol, Tums, and hundreds of other antacid products and prescriptions down there, because science and medicine have decided there’s no question. The Science Was Settled.. and besides, it was big, big business, and big medicine.

Except for 3 scientists, who kept asking questions about the co-existence of a bacteria– Helicobacter pylori— in the stomachs of people suffering from excess stomach acid and heartburn. Nonsense, said the medical establishment, gastroenterologists, BigPharm, and critics (without checking or testing the data). The $cience IS $ETTLED™. Cha-ching.

Since the science was far from settled on Helicobacter pylori, one of the scientists, Barry Marshall, decided to consume a petri-dish of the bacteria, and– boom– he got all the symptoms. He took the appropriate anti-biotic to fight Helicobacter pylori .. and immediately got better. Because actual science.

After much screaming, doubting, mocking, and backlash, Marshall won the Nobel prize. Because questions, real science, not declaring anything settled, without reproducible proof. If NatGeo had been on the case, it’s “BACTERIA CAUSE ULCERS: Fringe Extremists Agree”.

Send In The Kooks

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But what do I know? I self-identify as an elf, and a wombat on alternate Wednesdays– so I’m obviously an uber-kook, like all the evil crazy deniers, right?

Thing is, science is not revealed from heaven, and since humans are mortal, fallible, moved by good and bad reasons & motives, sometimes even petty and dishonest evil ones, for anybody– especially a respected popular journal– to get on The Science Is Settled, Everybody Knows That [ fill in the blank ] is naive, narrow-minded, doctrinaire, unscientific, pro status quo forever.

Derp, NatGeo. Cut the preaching.

So Saith The Binks

In Plain Sight

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~ SOME THINGS are right there, but you can’t see them until you back away. Possibly, WAY away.

I think of the strange circular lake in northern Quebec. 60 miles across, 215 million years old, this was right there in front of people’s noses. Then, look again. A very very big deal.

Or again, the popular tourist destination in Wyoming, with geysers and springs, burbling mud-spouts, and steaming waters. All very scenic and natural… for the mouth of a supervolcano. Distant hills ringing the park are actually the edges of a former caldera.

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Fun With Supervolcanic eruptions. Think 2000x Mount St. Helens.

The current mouth of the Yellowstone volcano caldera is tens of miles wide, and tens of miles across 30 x 50 miles, in fact. When it goes off again, the U.S. will be buried in ash, and the world climate will go in the freezer. In the map below, the purple line rings what will blow up next time. A supervolcano is not one volcano, but a dozen rolled into one. Some scientists speculate that a supervolcanic eruption 75 000 years ago nearly wiped out the human race.

Yellowstone– so big, nobody saw it at first. Now, look again.

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In Front Of The Noses

There are a variety of things like this which we cannot or will not see in our world. The following is a small list of big items.

  • That the current U.S. President is simply and obviously the enemy of freedom, America, and Christianity.
  • That the useful alphabet soup of ‘Muslim terror groups’ are all connected one way or another to western governments and security services, and the CIA. That the current pope is a very scary guy, given his history in Argentina.
  • That Goldman-Sachs and their fellow predator-companies are super-criminal and hyper-leveraged organized crime organizations operating national and global fraud right under our noses.
  • That the international 2008 bailout was a crime-syndicate, with the rest of us as the victims– all of the politicians and bankers involved should be imprisoned.
  • That because we didn’t take the bitter medicine of 2008, we will have to take much worse medicine sooner or later.
  • That our economies in the West are now a ‘managed’ patchwork of sticks, glue, bits of gum, and string, not actual economies– don’t look too closely, because it’s all debt-bubbles and fake money and appearances.
  • That surrendering freedoms in the name of alleged security is a fool’s bargain which will end very badly.
  • That ‘managed’ societies always end badly, especially for the weakest.
  • That leaders or governments which claim the authority of God are actually evil, and will demand terrible sacrifices.
  • That murder of the unborn is a horrible curse upon us.

That is, we humans have made messes of ourselves as big as a supervolcano, or meteor-strike, if we but dared to look at the evidence and facts and what is staring us in the face every day.

There are none so blind as those who will not see. There are none so contemptible as those who see, but will not shout or fight or spread the news.

Cheer up. Things are going to get much, much worse. ~

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Saith The Preacher

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~ I’M NOT SURE, but I may have rolled my eyes. Or, more likely, just looked down and hid my expression.

It was the local RC priest preaching that year for the area Remembrance Day church service, and for some reason he was going on about how war is bad, the evils of war, and the military-industrial something or other, and the assembled veterans and family and community members were restless, and angry at this harangue. How needless, and stupid, and offensive. I suppose his college and seminary professors would have all approved.

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War! Bad!

And Now, The Rebuttal

The next year, it was my turn to preach. I remembered what had been said the year before. Does anybody really need to tell honest-to-God war veterans that war is horrible, regrettable, wasteful, and messy? No. All I could remember was poring over the photos my Grampa George took of India and Burma, and then– after a certain point– he’d just stop, and get up, crying. The great adventure had that dark side, of deeds done, things seen, friends missing or worse.

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I asked God for the wisdom and strength and sensitivity not to waste such an opportunity, nor to ever throw contempt into the faces and hearts assembled there. So I preached to my Grampa, looking out on a sea of gray hair and wrinkled faces. I spoke about the good and bad of war, of people and places remembered, of God’s love known and seen in the worst of times and present with us still in times of peace and freedom, and I actually said “nobody needs to tell the eyewitnesses that war is hell”. I told the story of my Grampa and his happy memories, and his tears. I also  said that the peace and freedom for which so many suffered and died was still worth fighting for, so that in the Canada of 1995, we might look to save our unborn, 2 000 000 dead in the last 20 years, that Hitler’s dreams of control over others and the weakest might die once and for all. That the sacrifices of those years not be cast away in our time.

The local RC priest looked daggers at me, partly because he knew this was a rebuttal– but directed to speaking the truth in love, and to those gathered men and women. Afterwards, the centotaph ceremony down, a good number of the vets thanked me for my words.

To my surprise, a big old fellow came up to me, and asked about my Grandfather, and the unit he served in during his Burma days (435 “Chinthe” Transport and Rescue Squadron). “Yes, I thought it might be.” He had known my Grampa, and as we talked, he also broke down in tears. He promised to send me something, and a few weeks later, a photocopied 3-4 page article arrived, detailing the unit, the work, and lo and behold, there in the front row of the picture, sleeves rolled up and brown as a nut was my then-young Grandfather, with all the men of his section posing proud and strong.

In 1995, I head the great honour of helping prepare the service, and preaching at, the provincial gathering for the 50th Anniversary of VE Day, in Louisbourg. I did not tell them that war was bad. 1500 gathered vets, family, military officers, chaplains, and all the rest. I did forget the printed copy of my sermon at home, and spent the first 20 minutes of the ceremony surreptitiously writing down my main points on a stray piece of paper. Eep!

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Still, And More

For we are ever more at war, against enemies outside and within, of cowards and surrender-minded folks, of people who really aren’t sure if what we have and who we are is worth believing, defending, let alone dying for. Abortion is down slightly, but most of our murdered pre-born kids are killed for reasons of pleasure, hedonism, and social convenience. 100 000 every year; since I preached that sermon, we’ve slaughtered another 900 000. Hitler’s favourite eugenics– getting rid of the handicapped, elderly, and inferior– is now called family planning. The possible next Prime Minister of Canada is an intellectual and moral lightweight, who panders to militant Islam, and acts the dictator within his own party. You’ll remember his spoiled rich father, Pierre Trudeau, the anti-semite and wartime fascist who thought it a great joke to dress up as a Nazi soldier and drive around in Jewish neighbourhoods of Montreal during the war he avoided serving in.

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In 2014, political correctness and totalitarian progressivism represent an auto-immune disease of Western Societies, weakened inwardly, prey to opportunistic infections like radical Islam, abortionism, feminism, intellectual Leftism, open Communism and anti-semitism, racism and so much more. The battle is not over by a long stretch in each year and age– Hitler may be dead, but Hitlerism, Stalinism, Maoism, and other homegrown forms of dictatorship, death, and societal suicide abide with us. And outside, creeping in the gates, comes the wolfish bloody-handed hordes of Mohammedism, head-cutting and seducing, and presenting an impossibly simplistic universe for the same kind of souls who eagerly joined the SS in Germany. Evil is alive, ever seeking opportunity, blood, souls to mislead, and good things to bring down to ruin.

These our our times, our battles. As the spiritual leader of the war against evil in J.R.R. Tolkien’s Middle Earth, Gandalf the Grey says:

Other evils there are that may come; for Sauron is himself but a servant or emissary. Yet it is not our part to master all the tides of the world, but to do what is in us for the succour of those years wherein we are set, uprooting the evil in the fields that we know, so that those who live after may have clean earth to till. What weather they shall have is not ours to rule.’ ― Gandalf, ‘The Lord of the Rings’, Book V, Chapter 9.

Let us remember, and so remembering, act. ~

~ Binks

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More Than Remembrance: Gren, Part II

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~ FOR SEVERAL years, on Remembrance Day, I’ve sent people to my memorial-page for my great-uncle Gren Stanley, shot down in 1943. Feel free to go read it again, to get the background. He fought and died for the freedom we enjoy from that day to this.

Out Of The Blue

As it turns out, there is an amazing second chapter to Grenville’s story, all because of that original posting. This e-mail arrived last Remembrance Day, 2013, from the Wings Museum in England.

Dear Binks,

I am writing regarding the brother of your grandmother, Flight Sergeant Grenville Gordon Stanley RCAF. I am writing on behalf of Kevin Hunt, curator of Wings Museum in England. He and others have located the Halifax bomber remains that your great uncle was on and are erecting a memorial in honour of that flight crew. They are looking for relatives to attend this memorial service in 2014. It looks to me like you should be one who is invited to attend. Can you help me out with more information and likewise I can reciprocate.

Rob Ferguson

ps: I was at a similar memorial service this last May, 2013 for my uncle whom I am named after and was very satisfied with the respect and dignity bestowed upon the flight crew that the memorial and what it represented to both the locals and the relatives who attended.

My post, Googled, led to this museum doing something wonderful & moving.

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As it turned out, on June 21st 2014, Gren’s great-nephew and great-niece (my brother Michael, and 1st cousin Karin), and Gren’s nephew and his wife (John, above, & his wife Maxine) attended the special ceremony for the crew of Halifax DT556 in Kasterlee Belgium, on the actual site where Gren’s bomber crashed. They also visited his grave in the war cemetery nearby.

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The family of Pilot Officer Genville Stanley RCAF pay their emotional personal tributes at his grave at Schonselhof Cemetery in Belgium.

Simply awesome. What a gift for our family, and so many others. A proper museum doing such an important work, for relatives, for those times, for airplanes lost, for many in Europe who are still grateful for their freedoms paid for at such a price. This work continues– please consider a donation.

Marking The Spot

From the dedicated Memorial Stone, via the Wings Museum Webpage, a wealth of information:

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Memorial dedication to the crew of Halifax DT556 – 21st June 2014.

On Saturday 21st June 2014 a memorial was unveiled at Gootress near the town of Kasterlee in Belgium to the crew of a 76 Squadron Halifax bomber which was shot down in the early hours of 2nd March 1943. The memorial was a joint venture between the Wings Museum, the Heemkundige Kring a local history group in Kasterlee and the community of Kasterlee. 11 relatives of 2 of the crew attended the memorial service traveling from England & Canada.

The investigation into the circumstances of the loss of Halifax DT556 & her crew were first investigated in 1998 when the Wings Museum wrote to the local Mayor for information on the incident. Several searches were made over the years by the Wings Musuem with lots of small fragments being recovered, these findings backed up eye witness reports that the Halifax exploded over the small hamlet of Gootress scattering wreckage on the surface of the fields. These pieces also confirmed that this was indeed a Mark II Halifax by identification from part numbers located on the wreckage. The investigation came full circle when finally in 2014 a memorial was unveiled to commemorate the crew.

The Last Flight of DT556…

Handley Page Halifax II Serial Number DT556 MP-U was one of two 76 Squadron Halifaxes lost on the night of the 1st/2nd March 1943. The crew of DT556 took off at 18.27 from RAF Linton-on-Ouse to bomb Berlin. A second pilot by the name of Arthur Thomas Wheatley was on board DT556 to gain combat air experience.

After bombing the target and on the homeward leg of the flight DT556 was shot down by a German night fighter at 00.13 at Grootrees near Kasterlee in Begium. The aircraft exploded in mid air scattering wreckage over a 1km radius. Tragically out of the 8 crew members on board only 3 managed to bale out, 2 being captured by the Germans and 1 managed to evade back to England. 5 of the crew were buried at SCHOONSELHOF Cemetery.

On 1/2nd March 1943 a bomber force of 302 aircraft which was comprised of 156 Lancasters, 86 Halifaxes, and 60 Stirlings were briefed to bomb Berlin. During the raid the Pathfinders experienced difficulty in producing concentrated marking because individual parts of the extensive built-up city area of Berlin could not be distinguished on the H2S screens. Bombing photographs showed that the attack was spread over more than 100 square miles with the main emphasis in the south-west of the city. However, because larger numbers of aircraft were now being used and because those aircraft were now carrying a greater average bomb load, the proportion of the force which did hit Berlin caused more damage than any previous raid to this target. This type of result, with significant damage still being caused by only partially successful attacks was becoming a regular feature of Bomber Command raids. Some bombs hit the Telefunken works at which the H2S set taken from the Stirling shot down near Rotterdam was being reassembled.

The set was completely destroyed in the bombing but a Halifax of 35 Squadron with an almost intact set crashed in Holland on this night and the Germans were able to resume their research into H2S immediately. 17 aircraft, they being 7 Lancasters, 6 Halifaxes, and 4 Stirlings were lost on the raid. Returning from the raid shortly after midnight the aircraft was intercepted by an German night-fighter and shot down at 0013 hours, crashing between Kasterlee and Turnhaut (Antwerpen), Belgium. Five of the crew were killed and are interred in the same cemetery, two were captured, but Flying Officer E. L. Souter-Smith avoided capture and reached Switzerland where he was interned. After the Second World War he moved to Australia, but was sadly killed in a motoring accident in 1973.

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The family of Grenville Stanley stand on the exact spot where the Halifax crashed – visiting the exact crash site was an important & emotional part of their visit.

Saith Teh Binks

We learned a few things about the loss of Halifax DT556: first, that indeed Gren had a fiancee; second, that three of the aircrew bailed out, and survived– “2 being captured by the Germans and 1 managed to evade back to England” according to museum research.

I give thanks this Remembrance Day 2014 for the good people at the Wings Museum in England; the people of Kasterlee, and the local historical association, my relatives for attending (I cannot travel much), and for a young man 71 years ago, who made the supreme sacrifice, that we might be free. Thanks, Great-Uncle Grenville. You are still missed. ~

~ Binks

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Social Misengineering

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~ WORDS MEAN things.. thus, when radicals want to break something, they usually start with the words about that target. People who oppose a dictatorship are ‘dissidents’, or counter-revolutionaries; people with legitimate doubts over same-sex unions are ‘homophobes’. People who dislike terrorists killing people are ‘Islamophobes’. It’s hows you marginalize, re-interpret, skew reality.

In my wallet I carry a ‘partner discount card’. Oddly enough, I am not officially yoked in a business agreement with anybody, say, like Scrooge & Marley. This, again, is re-interpretation through the misuse of words. I am a husband; but, you see, that ‘discriminates’ (i.e., notices the differences) against illegal fake ‘living together’ marriages, gay unions, and boyfriend-girlfriend. Can’t have that, so call everybody the same thing, even if they are very different things.

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Something Else

I’m married, 27 years, committed to one woman till death us do part; with two kids of my own, no step-anythings. That is, the actual thing, however imperfect, as decreed by God, as lived by most of civilized history, as taught in the Bible and by the Saviour himself. Partners? Well, that’s one aspect of things, but just as a sirloin steak is different from a take-out cheeseburger or bologna sandwiches, or junk food.

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Don’t get on me about broken homes– I lived in one for much of my youth. Don’t get on me about ‘living together’– pseudo marriage is just that– playing at husband and wife, all of the benefits, none of the commitments come what may, and a dangerous environment for kids and other small animals.

Wording Good

Words mean things; good things are actually good; similar things may not be so good, or actually evil. That people don’t like feeling bad, or guilty, or ashamed is part of human nature: if you’ve done bad, feeling bad is the right response. Shame is your conscience warning you; guilt can be very real, for sins and crimes and hurting others. The great error of our modern age is that the virtue of compassion has run amuck, to the point of telling half-truths and lies, to make people feel better about themselves.

 If everything is lowered to one level, people may be allowed to excuse themselves much, and yet the thing itself is degraded, as if we substituted gold-spray-painted copper for gold coins. Counterfeit. Not the same. Fake.

I’m not in business with her, I’m married to her as husband and wife. More precious than gold, yea, than much fine gold. ~

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Wee Wallace Of Doom

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Wee Wallace Of Doom, Planning To Annex Something, And Mark It With His Pee

~ FOR WHATEVER good reasons God gave us dogs, I rejoice– daily– that God gave me Wee Wallace.

We’d been down to Missouri for a month visiting Binks-Dad, who at that point had 4 (large) dogs– I was doomed. My twin Binklings fell in love with pooches, and they finagled and asked nicely and begged and got parents onside, and only a couple of weeks after we returned to New Scotland, there he was.

He and his brother lived in a glass booth at the puppy-store for over 4 months. His brother (white-furred) was too caffeinated, and would not stop jumping… but the black-furred puppy at the back of the cage was looking at the world, checking things out. Bingo. His temperament seemed to suit ours.

Wallace knew literally nothing of life save the little world of the pet-store. Grass, sky, walking on a leash, other critters, different kinds of food, sleeping without his brother, where to poop? All new.

We named him Wee Wallace, after Sir William Wallace, the Scottish hero of the Wars Of Independence. You know, cuz miniature poodles are tough like dat. I learned that not only are they low-allergenic, but they can be super-smart, and funny. Poodles are water-dogs, meant for scaring up and catching water fowl.

A Simple Life

His life is small, he has a couple of jobs (door-microwave-phone alert-mummy’s home), he is made happy with a daily walk followed by two mini-milkbones, and an occasional variety in the taste of his dog-food. If, whilst on his walk, he can dance for a couple of people, or sniff butts with some other neighbourhood dogs, all the while leaving or answering p-mails on trees, bushes, shrubs, and dog-likely sniffing spots, his joy is deep and honest. As someone said, dogs thank God simply by wholeheartedly enjoying the good things of this life. It’s true in his case.

Get Up And Walkies

Wee Wallace saved my life. Not bad for a little guy not 10 pounds soaking wet.

Chronic illness can keep you low and hidden and lying about, waiting for the next misery. With the daily doggy-needs for micturation and defecation, I was forced to be up and about. Daily walks ensued. Said walks got longer and more healthsome. I began to regain my slim and girlish figure. Some of the chronic pains faded a little to the background.

That’ll Do, Dog

The She-Binks is diligent in varying his small-dog Nutrience dry food month-by-month. Today, he was looking at me attentively, and so I looked at his dish and water-bowl. Leftovers of the old mix.

“Wally wants kibble?”

Blink (he blinks for yes, stares for no/ don’t understand).

“OK, new kibble! Oh boy!” Dog dances on his hind feet, in expectation.

New kibble ensues on the plate. Dog eagerly eats each piece on at a time, by taking them carefully off the plate, and eating it a foot away on the carpet.

A few moments later: “Wallace! is it good? Is it yummy?”

Wallace blinks, licks chops, and smiles, eyes aglow. Binky’s heart melts into marshmallow puddle.

Dog resumes his careful kibble-eating, one by one by one.

Sometimes, it’s the simple joy of knowing you’ve made another critter happy that warms the heart-cockles.

Good dog. ~

* Slightly edited, because influenza. And for those who are wondering why I’m not on about Obama Ebola Nekkid Actresses Reddit Twitter, it’s because the ordinary life of free people in free lands, enjoyed, is part of what we must fight, and live for. 

Wee Binks

calvin-hobbes-school

~ AND THEN it happened.

Grade 1. I had no idea WTF it was all about.

We sit in rows, while Mrs. Arm Wattle talked at us about things of little or no interest.

Wee Binks: “OK, I did that for 10 minutes, now can we go outside? Can I go home now? What is this all about? You want me to do what? I’m lonely, and scared, confused and bored, and none of this makes much sense. What? Back to the corner again?”

Sad-student-310x180

It was in Grade 1 that I learned many things, not all of them intended.

~ That being repeatedly sent to stand in the corner made as much sense as whatever this whole ‘classroom’ thing was about.

~ That organized public education and my younger self did not get along at all.

~ That the horrors and bullying of the schoolyard were even worse.

~ That it was a long walk to the Principal’s Office.

~ That numbers were a language I could not easily grasp (it turns out Wee Binks actually had math dyslexia– Discalculia— but it had not been invented yet.. along with mild dyslexia).

~ That a close approximation of the desolation of hell is an empty Valentine’s day bag with no cards in it (Grade 2).

~ That no matter how badly you wanted to, you could not go home until another grinding day was done. Each day was like a month. Thus, Grade One took about 22 years, Binks-time.

~ By age six, I wished I were dead.

So forgive me if I recall “the First Day Of School” as a not-happy thing. ~

Binks

calvin6

Steynian 476rd

Do Some Good

~ ITEM: Red Cross Canada Calgary Relief

~ ITEM: Fight Euthanasia In Canada.. their Donation Page. Director Alex Schadenberg is fighting the good fight

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~ ITEM: The Fellowship of St. James: For Christ, Creed & Culture

~ ITEM: NEW CRITERION— We’re in the final days of our fundraising drive. Read a special appeal from Roger Kimball here and pledge your support to culture and criticism by making a donation.


aragronstandenhanced3pq1yw

“Sons of Gondor, of Rohan. My brothers. I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me! A day may come, when the courage of men fails, when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of Fellowship, but it is not this day! An hour of wolves and shattered shields when the age of men comes crashing down! But it is not this day! This day we fight! By all that you hold dear on this good earth, I bid you, stand, men of the West!”

~ Aragorn son of Arathorn, called Elessar, the Elfstone, Dúnadain, the heir of Isildur Elendil’s son of Gondor.


Some Esplainin’ To Do

~ YOU WILL NOTICE that Binks pre-insults some of the bloggers and links below. This is for the effort-saving convenience of any progressive and/ or radical visitors to the blog, who prefer pre-judged labels, insults, and slogans to the retrograde and antiquated notion of “Actually Shutting Up And Listening To What Someone Has To Say” which may veer dangerously close to “Actually Learning Something New”.

Continue reading

Steynian 461nd

Ever Homewards

~ ITEMIMAGES OF PILGRIMAGE: PARADISE AND WILDERNESS IN CHRISTIAN SPIRITUALITY, Robert D. Crouse, 1986

The Way, with Martin Sheen

(available on NetFlix)

~ CONFESSIO: FOR A WHILE, I forgot.

I forgot my ever-home: heaven, better than all the best bits of nostalgia and remembrance and hope and longing. That the soul is on pilgrimage through a sometimes dark and dangerous land; sometimes with friends & companions, other times alone, with thoughts and God and the holy angels.

We are all on the same pilgrimage, towards or away from home, or just sitting in the ditch. It is easy to seek our own way; to mistake our wishes or desires for reality; to set up shop or head the wrong way, swimming in excuses and likeminded company. Such is the broad and easy way of illusion, or as the philosopher put it, to be born dreaming and die dreaming without ever having woken up.

I forgot.

In Dante Alighieri’s Divine Comedy, when the character Dante wakes up in the dark wood, it is not that he wasn’t there before, but that he was spiritually, intellectually, and sinfully in denial of the doomed state of his soul, and the dangers all around, and that the right road homewards– through all our days, many or few, to heaven– was “wholly lost and gone”. He forgot.

There were other things I forgot, entangled in illness and isolation– like the hope of resurrection; that the grave is a doorway, not an oblivion; that God will not suffer his holy ones to see corruption; that though in the midst of life we are in death.. yet death hasn’t the last word.

I’m sorry, because the whole Binky Free Canuckistan thing is part of my calling to serve others, through, despite, and given the opportunity of illness. It’s a God thing. I let the blog drop, got into a bucket of “Why Me?”, and let weariness and a desire for a false peace overcome me.

As in every age and place, we are at war– with ourselves, with powers & principalities and horrible ideas and false faith and good intentions turned into hell.

There’s just no sitting this one out. ~


Books Galore & More

~ ITEMThe Lymond Chronicles

~ ITEMH.F.M. Prescott

~ ITEMHenry IV Part 1: Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre; and Part 2

~ I’VE STILL BEEN bookworming it– jonseing on Brit various tomes by historian Alison Weir; laughing out loud and enjoying the rich brain-squeezy goodness of Dorothy Dunnett’s Lymond Crawford novels; the Anglo-Catholic wisdom of H. F. M. Prescott in The Man on A Donkey; Ackroyd’s biography of Shakespeare; various other odds and ends along the way.

Via the Beeb & Tube of You, The Binks has been taking in The Hollow Crown (4 royal plays starting with Richard 2.0)– powerful, only slightly butchered, and wonderfully staged with a collection of faces new & old from the UK Shakespeariati crew.

Also saw the Globe DVD version of Henry 4.0 parts 1 & 2; a little over-acted in parts, but a great ensemble crew. Tried to watch & enjoy Ralph Fiennes’ Coriolanus (co-starring Gerard Butler), but great hunks of the text were missing (as in the pretty but patchwork Ian McKellen Richard III of 1995).

Read, Watch, Talk

It hardly does to talk about the riches of our cultural heritage, the importance of good literature and drama and all the rest, simply by paying lipservice to it. If we can follow the plot of Lost, or keep up with the twists and turns of tabloid romance, or learn the lyrics of countless pop-songs, then we can make room for the Bible, Greek and Roman legends, Medieval culture and music and literature, Shakespeare, and all the rest.

We must remember what we have forgotten, neglected, or had stolen away from us. These arou our words and thoughts, our stories, our joy and wisdom and warnings, our philosophy and theology, our history and art and understanding.

It is the radicals and progressives and Islamo-fanatics who would erase the past, consigning it to the infamous “ashheap of history”, a dead and buried past past. These things make us who we are– not just who we were– and who we can and shall be again. ~


Neener– Binks Told You So #941

~ ITEMSandy, a former hurricane, causes widespread flooding and power cuts

~ ITEM: How to Bug-In: What You Need to Know to Survive a Grid-Down Disaster

YouTube: Preparedness

~ SO THEN THE hellstorm of Hurricane Sandy hits and sludges the East Coast.. do the preppers and survival-types look quite so silly, hyper-cautious, and half-baked now?

Binks has written before, following on the thoughts of the Instapundit, about the fragility of our supply-systems, bringing us “Just In Time” most of our food, water, prescriptions– all of it. In our local area, one home-owner was forced to shut down his well and go on the water system, even though that well tapped a spring that has given hyper-fresh water for thousands of years.

Witness post-storm New York City– minus power, water, subway, trucked-in food & supplies– where’s your “Just In Time” shipping theory now? A supermarket with a warehouse– as in past decades– would mean food for several thousands for weeks. Now, what you see on the shelves is what you get. No back-up, no depth.. in one sense, no notion that there’s not always power and trucks and safe roads and staff able to get to work and unload the trucks.

Waaaah! Mommy!

It’s the modern disease– govtitty. Someone Else Will Look After It. If I choose not to be ready for storms, blackouts, floods, man-made disasters, somehow it’s not your fault or responsibility.

It’s been 50 or 60 years of bloated all-pervasive government, eating away at liberty, social and personal responsibility, charity to others, individual & group motivations to do the right thing, fight for and build the future, and hand on to others the hard-won gifts we have received from our forefathers, in better condition than we got them.

Most of the time, we can get away with this craziness, because the machine keeps working. We don’t see the general chaos ahead, because it’s kinda holding together just now, if we ignore the details and the evidence.

No, being prepared isn’t a free ticket to apocalypse land, bunker-living, or any of the rest of the sub-culture. As with any probem, some folks take things super-far. Learn what they may know, without following them down the End Of The World path.

Quit Stalling

Get ready. Now. Just do it, because you care for yourself, your family & neighbours, for being around to hand on civilization and live ordinary life, and enjoy the many blessings of God, and not needlessly suffer & die for the want of a few days of work and a few hundred dollars.

The links above are just a few useful sites to begin for disaster preparedness. Plan for 2 weeks or more; make sure you have lotsa water & food; basic tools, a good multitool, a good hatchet, a sawback machete, LED lights, several means of making fire, some means of cooking & heating, lots of backup meds, dogfood.. you know what to do. ~


So Obysmally Done

~ ITEMPresident Talks iPod on Radio as Hurricane Hits; FEMA, W.H. send storm victims to internet; Hurricane Sandy floods NYC subways; millions without power

~ ITEM – Admiral James Lyons – We Need Full Disclosure On Benghazi NOW; and McCain: Obama Might Be Conducting ‘Massive Cover-Up’ With Libya Attack

~ ITEMWill Hurricane Sandy deliver an election victory next week for Barack Obama?

~ ITEM – Roger Scruton: A pessimist’s guide to life

~ AS THE CURRENT POTUS melts in public, revealing the non-entity and busy minions behind the curtains, it’s sad to see that– if polls can be believed– that so many voters are still willing to pull the lever for the see-through President, versus the tried & tested Romney.

Obama offered enchanting hot air: feel-good, make-believe, and lots of evil & nasty behind the curtain. No real answers or plans, just Hopenchange and spin, smoke and mirrors. As apostate liberal David Mamet details in his take-no-prisoners book The Secret Knowledge, it is a battle between fact-light feeling and wishes, versus evidence, facts, and the tried & tested wisdom of our civilization.

The Secret Knowledge: On the Dismantling of American Culture, by David Mamet

And the naive & happy True Believers are on a veritable crusade, to perfect the world, come hell or high water or necessary deaths. Their opponents are not just people honestly upholding their reasonable positions, they are bad. It’s why The Big O himself demonizes and viciously attacks his opponents– he’s an elected god, therefore his enemies are obviously devils.

Pessimistically Yours

Said conservative cultural philosopher Roger Scruton (another former liberal) in 2010:

“Leftwing people find it very hard to get on with rightwing people, because they believe that they are evil. Whereas I have no problem getting on with leftwing people, because I simply believe that they are mistaken.”

Frankly, I don’t care if Romney is just another politician– voters in the united States are electing a President, not a deity or messiah. Yes, U.S. politics is religion is politics, but let’s hope the past 4 years have awakened enough voters to reality, and away from the politics of perfection, let alone the politicization, division, proto-racewar and Muslim Brotherhood money and scheming behind the sockpuppet Obama.

The polls are still horribly skewed– if the truth behind them is what I suspect it is, Romeny is a shoe-in. But that may not be the end of this fight, in the short or long-term. November 4th may be a D-Day.. but the war was very much up for grabs for months and months after the allied invasion of Normandy.

Just sayin’, is all. ~

The Uses of Pessimism: And the Danger of False Hope, by Roger Scruton.

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