Bring on the iron

The Perfect Aryan Male and his 18-inch biceps showed up at our door, so for old time’s sake we hit the gym at the first opportunity. TPAM’s looking practically skeletal these days, having dropped to a mere 230, so this time we only had to borrow one gym girl to sit on top of the stack while he pressed triceps.

It’s good to be pushed by a bigger dog, though, as I managed to power through a solid bench at 300 before choking twice at 315. I thought I had it for a moment; the bar was under control and moving off my chest but I couldn’t get it past that little break point that’s about two inches up, at least not without help.

Boy, am I wiped out….

Semper Fi

Jeff Jacoby writes of the death of a Marine:

On the morning of Nov. 15, one week into the battle for Fallujah, his [Sergeant Rafael Peralta of Alpha Company, 1st Battalion, 3d Marines] squad had cleared three houses without incident. They approached a fourth, kicking in two locked doors simultaneously and entering both front rooms. They found them empty. Another closed door led to an adjoining room. As the other Marines spread out, wrote Kaemmerer, “Peralta, rifle in hand, tested the handle.” It wasn’t locked. He threw open the door, preparing to rush in — and three terrorists with AK-47s opened fire. He was shot multiple times in the chest and face. As he fell, severely wounded, he managed to wrench himself out of the doorway to give his fellow Marines a clear line of fire.

The gunfire was deafening. To the sound of the terrorists’ AK-47s was added the din of the Marines’ M16 rifles and Squad Automatic Weapon, a machine gun. The battle was raging, with Peralta down and bleeding heavily and the other Marines firing at the enemy in the back room, when, in Kaemmerer’s words, ”a yellow, foreign-made, oval-shaped grenade bounced into the room, rolling to a stop close to Peralta’s nearly lifeless body.”

As the other Marines tried to flee, Peralta reached for the grenade and tucked it into his gut. Seconds later, it exploded with such force that when his remains were returned to his family for burial, they were able to identify him only by the tattoo on his shoulder. His five comrades-in-arms, shielded from the worst of the blast by Peralta’s last act as a Marine, survived.

Metaphorical resonance

A REPORTER sent to do a story about a baby squirrel stood on the fluffy creature by mistake and killed it.

Inka Blumensaat wanted to tell how a pet cat had saved the orphaned squirrel by adopting it as her own. But the friendly rodent jumped on her leg as she filmed her report and she panicked and trampled it underfoot,breaking its neck.

Heike Reher, whose cat adopted the squirrel in Lubeck, Germany, said: “The reporter started leaping about like a mad woman. She squashed the squirrel completely. Everyone looked at the floor in horror where the little squirrel lay in a pool of blood.”

It somehow makes me think of the legacy media and its relationship to this nation’s freedom.