The Chevy Volt (As Expected) Continues To Bleed Money

A dead horse, sufficiently beaten, is dead.  A green jobs government subsidy, never dies.

I’m particularly impressed by the unkillable and yet utterly unwanted Chevy Volt; the flagship product of GM’s fictional green-jobs lineup which has had sales between “low” and “damn near nothing”. (Because GM’s major customer is Congress and not consumers, it has had it’s lunch eaten by Ford.  Henry Ford, that crazy loon, would be proud.)

I’ve beaten the Volt horse already:

  • The Chevy Volt Is Still Shovel Ready: Jobs Money Quote.  Summary: A dealer complains that they’re pretty much unsellable and when his employee saddled his dealership with one of these white elephants he fired the employee.
  • The Chevy Volt Is Still Shovel Ready: The Great Leap Forward.  Summary: The Chevy Volt has the range of an electric car from 1896.  Nyuk nyuk nyuk.
  • The Chevy Volt Is Still Shovel Ready. Summary: The Volt, which is a niche product at best, was advertised during the most expensive time slot in all of God’s creation (Superbowl halftime!).  This proved that the car was not intended as an actual profit making endeavor.  Also private companies have greater market penetration, are employing more people, and are making a profit selling even absurd vehicles while the Volt just sucks money.  My examples were gold plated cars (the $300,000 Bentley Continental GT) and obscure wheeled modern antiques (the 1930’s design Russian military Ural sidecar motorcycle).

The fun is not over.  Now there is something of a “quasi-recall”:

GM offers to buy back Chevrolet Volts from fearful owners.

If the Volt was a real car, intended to make an honest profit by selling a desired product to willing consumers, this would be news.  However the Volt is nothing more than a Potemkin village on wheels.

I’m disappointed but not surprised that a formerly capitalist entity has (quite reasonably) decided that it’s easier to get money from Congress than people spending their own money.  This was all pre-orchestrated back in 1979 with Chrysler’s first bailout ($1.5 Billion).

Subsidized companies, like teenagers and stray cats, fall apart for want of proper discipline.  Honest profit seeking companies are self-correcting if they need to turn a profit.  Throw money at at a company and it eventually winds up sitting on the couch eating Cheetos and bitching.   A once great organization is reduced to a Congressional plaything that is host to parasitic opportunists.  (I don’t blame opportunists, like bank robber Willie Sutton, they go there “because that’s where the money is“.)

The stupidity of 1979 (another time Americans lost their shit when they encountered a recession) paved the way for Chrysler 2011 (note: the money was issued earlier but I used 2011 numbers) ($1.3 Billion, not counting the finance dept.) and General Motors 2011 (same general time of madness as Chrysler) ($23.6 billion, not counting the finance dept.).  Which all inexplicably adds up to to $79.6 billion when you roll them together with their finance groups.

So what have we got?  Two of the big three automakers aren’t beholden to their consumers.  So GM is screwing around with a couple score cars that aren’t profitable and never will be.  Meanwhile Ford, Toyota, and Honda are lean and hungry.  They’re kicking ass!

Put another way; Studebaker (which didn’t have the forethought to die in a time of government madness) is gone.  Do you miss Studebaker?  I don’t.  Could the assets of GM and Chrysler be scooped up and retooled to turn out better cars if someone else were pulling the strings.  The answer is that you’ll never know so long as Congress can spend your money.

Also there are 307,006,550 Americans.  Your share of the GM / Chrysler LLC bailout is:

$79,600,000,000 / 307,006,550 = $259

The average household size in America is 2.8.  That means your house paid:

$259 * 2.8 = $725.20

When someone screws my family for $725.20 I expect dinner before and breakfast afterwards.  Or at least a six pack of beer and an apology.  I want my apology for the $725 Chevy Volt that I’ll never own.

Posted in Harangue-a-bang-bang! | Leave a comment

Inflation and Porn

“I shall not today attempt further to define the kinds of material I understand to be embraced within that shorthand description [‘hard-core pornography’]; and perhaps I could never succeed in intelligibly doing so. But I know it when I see it…”

Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart’s concurring opinion on pornography (1964)

I can’t help but sympathize with Justice Potter.  He was trying to define something that’s pretty hard to pin down.  It must suck being a Supreme Court Justice.  That’s why I turned it down when they offered me the job.  Just kidding…relax!

Being of a libertarian bent I dislike virtually any form of censorship.  Thus I don’t have to define pornography.  Call it whatever you want, so long as it’s not spamming my in-box and you’re not on an Ed Meese crusade.  I don’t care.

I can ignore porn but I can’t ignore something else that’s hard to define: inflation.  The idea is simple, clear, and repeatable.  When the supply of any good or service significantly increases, the relative value of the portion already in existence decreases.  This applies to stuff; candy, crack, corn, cats, and cars.  It also applies to services; hookers, handy men, herpetologists, and hack writers.

Where this bites us in the ass is when morons go apeshit and increase the supply of money.  Using the magic rainbow money photocopier makes the money I’ve already got in my pocket worth relatively less.  The way you see it is that everything costs more.

Even Kool aid drinking flat Earther’s like Paul Krugman can’t deny the mechanism of inflation.  Some examples of inflation are so darned obvious that nobody can wish them away.  (Wikipedia lists 30 some examples hyperinflation.)

Given that theoretical basis, I’m convinced that inflation was a done deal when the government crapped huge bucketloads of cash in 2008 and 2009.  Not “is it likely?” but rather “when and how much”.  I’m not predicting (nor ruling out) hyperinflation but I was (and remain) almost certain that Jimmy Carter level inflation is a mathematical certainty in the long run.  (Hint, the inflation rate for 1980 was 13.58%.  There is no reason on God’s green earth why 13.58% is impossible again.)

Life seems to indicate my guesses are correct.  For anything that I buy year after year I try to keep an eye on the price.  My memory ‘aint perfect but it’s ok.  Nearly anything where I can clearly remember last year’s price has a noticeably higher price this year.  There are a few exceptions, notably gasoline (which is subject to deliberate Federal manipulation), houses (which are still reeling from the mortgage bubble), and computers (which seem to be sticking with Moores Law).

So if everything but gas, houses, and iDevices are getting more expensive, isn’t that inflation?  Everything from my morning coffee to a bag of chickenfeed has increased.  Yet the press seems to be bludgeoning me with news that it’s not happening.  Here are some random links I picked off Google in five minutes:

There are several possibilities:

  1. Everything is getting cheaper and I’m a victim of confirmation bias.
  2. The government is playing games when defining inflation.  (In part this is expected.  The consumer price index ignores food and energy, which only makes sense for people who don’t eat and ride a mule to work…the zombie Amish?)
  3. Google is biased and pleasant news floats to the top of the search.  (Don’t be evil.)
  4. The media has their pet Democrat in power so all news is good news.  (Duh!)

What I can’t get my head around is that nobody seems to notice inflation even though it seems obvious to me.  (Name a monthly bill that’s gone down!  Name daily stuff people buy that’s getting cheaper.  Find a receipt from 2010…for anything…and go buy the same thing today.)

If the emperor has no clothes why exactly am I the one to notice and care?  Buy anything from box of cornflakes to a cell phone plan to a brake pad and more money will leave your wallet.  How is this not inflation?

Please tell me that someone has broken into my house and changed the price labels on my pantry goods and hacked my farm records.  The alternative, that everyone is denying what they see with their own eyes, is too freaky.

Like Supreme Court Justice Potter Steward…I know it when I see it.  And I’m seeing it.

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Finally! Good News About Black Friday.

From Steve Sailer’s iSteve Blog comes this:  Merry Christmas! Record Number of Americans Bought Guns on Black Friday.  It’s a reasonable guess that there are some 129,000 more guns in the hands of free American citizens than there were the day before.  Huzzah!

Some happy stats (source):

NICS Firearm Background Checks — Friday, November 25, 2011

Total NICS Checks—129,166 (highest day ever) 32.01 percent over Friday, November 28, 2008

Federal Checks—81,609 (highest day ever) 26.69 percent over Friday, November 28, 2008

POC State Checks—47,557 (4th highest day)

Other Records

NICS Contracted Call Centers—69,497 (highest day ever) 16.30 percent over Friday, November 28, 2008

NICS E-Check—11,953 (highest day ever) 119.76 percent over Friday, February 11, 2011

Ht to Maggie’s Farm.

Posted in Uncategorized | 8 Comments

Test

This is a test.  This is only a test.  If it were a real post it would have actual content:

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The Unstoppable: Jonathan Klinger

Go to 365 Days Of A for more old car inspiration. (Photo linked.)

About six weeks ago an important milestone passed and I failed to mark the occasion.  Time to rectify the situation.

On Wednesday October 12th 2011 Jonathan Klinger successfully completed his self imposed challenge of “spending one full year driving a 1930 Model A everywhere I go.” His reasoning?  “Because not everything a person owns should contain a computer.”  That, my friends, is excellent logic.

I wrote about him in February when his experience was roughly halfway complete.  I had no doubt he’d do it.  Why?  Because people in 1930 did it and not all of us have become gutless wimps in the ensuing decades.  Also because it’s obvious from his blog that he’s an incurable optimist.  The very kind of person who can happily churn an antique down the road while ignoring the siren song of heated seats (and car payments).

Whenever I think I’m surrounded by morons (or even when I know I’m surrounded by morons) I take solace in the knowledge that the world has folks that do things both useless and inspiring just because they want to.  I encourage everyone to check out 365 Days of A and give a hearty (if belated) congratulations to a fellow adventurer.

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Hat Tip To The Pro

I installed a home appliance to make my life better.  As I should have expected, it has pissed me off for months on end.  (Note to self: Find an appliance salesman and punch him in the balls…karma requires it.)

It was billed as a dishwasher but I believe it was a test of your home’s plumbing cleverly disguised as a useful appliance.  My home failed this test.  The house came with a dishwasher that didn’t work.  I thought I’d just hook the new dishwasher to the old fittings.  WRONG!  It turns out that the plumbing in my house was a craptacular mess.

The Neanderthals who formerly owned my house had virtually no pride of workmanship but a shitload of spare time.

Rather than a standard sewer hookup they’d jammed a 1/2″ flexible hose into a hacksawed 2″ sewer line.  How did they fill the remaining 1 1/2″ gap?  With silicone.  As near as I can tell Jethro Dipshit in the days of yore jammed most of a tube of silicone into the hole and made a softball sized mess.  If I ever have a time machine I’m going to find that loser and beat him with a plumbing manual.

As for the water-in they’d done something similar.  Two random fittings and a tube of silicone.  Did I mention that the old dishwasher was broke?  I think it committed suicide after witnessing criminally incompetent pluming.

I put in several hours installing a proper sewage line, in line, and power hookup.  I built everything up to code and with the standard fittings.  Then shoved the dishwasher into the appropriate spot, hooked up the fittings.  (Which had matching threads as they should.)  Pridefully turned it on…

…and it leaked.

So I checked every fitting.  It leaked again.  I tried my favorite approach; swearing.  When that didn’t work I re-tightened everything.  It didn’t leak.  Yeah!

It worked for a while.  Then it leaked again.  In frustration I installed a ball valve on the input line, so I could take the dishwasher off-line easily.  Then I rechecked every fitting.  I tried everything: Teflon tape, silicone (in moderation), more swearing.  Finally I got it sealed up.

It worked for a while.  Then it leaked again.

I finally gave up and called a plumber.  He arrived two weeks after the call.  (Man I love having ball valves on various water lines!)

I was shattered.  What kind of man hires a plumber for a dishwasher? I suck!  I expected him to take a standard fitting, use it to hook my standard input line to the standard dishwasher, and do it all in five minutes.  I’d get a huge bill for five minutes work; and I’d justly deserve it.

He expected the same thing.  Instead he announced that my dishwasher was apparently made in bizzaro land and had an unusual fitting.  He tightened it just like I’d done and it leaked just like it always does.  He’s a Godly man so I swore on his behalf.  (I’m thoughtful that way.)

After quite a bit of noodling around he discovered that the brass fitting that came with the dishwasher had a hairline crack.  (I hammered it a bit to make it show in the photo.)

When mankind cannot manage brass threads...we're slowly devolving to losers in mud huts. I'm of the opinion we're well on that path.

I was elated.  A problem identified is on it’s way to a problem solved.  Just replace the brass fitting.  Right?  He tore though his pile of brass bits and announced that none of the 345,834,221 pieces in his truck fit my dishwasher.  So we piled in my car and raced to the hardware store (which was about to close).  They didn’t have it either.

He suggested I contact the manufacturer of my bizzaro dishwasher.  I suggest he load a pistol and shoot me.  We both agreed that my dishwasher must have been made by illegal aliens in Guam on who speak Mongolian, answer the phone (which is unlisted) only on alternate Thursdays, and probably set fire to the tool and die that made my dishwasher the day the last one rolled off the assembly line.  In short the odds of getting the fitting from the supplier was lower than finding an honest politician.

I suggested we stop off at the bar en route back to my house…and leave me there.  He got motivated and attacked the hardware department.  Several unusual objects appeared on the counter.  I bought them all.

Back at my house he soldered some copper together and added some glued together bits of CPVC and installed it.  The next day (let the fittings cure) I opened the ball valve and it worked like a charm.  If I ever have another child I’m naming it after my plumber.

Also, and this is because I want to protect future generations, when this dishwasher finally wears out and I buy a new one (theoretically with “normal” fittings) I’m going to remove the adapter we had to create and bury it in the forest.  I refuse to leave behind anything like the works of the silicone people.

P.S.  As for my plumber.  Huzzah!  Well done sir!

Posted in Garagineering, Homesteading | Leave a comment

Larry Correia Hits One Out Of The Park

I’ve tried to keep posts about Occupy Wall Street’s movement in participatory street playgroups to a minimum. I prefer instead to focus on things that are important like tractors, chickens, and turkey sandwiches.

My pragmatic side fears the OWS children (for they are hardly adults) are on the knife edge between ignorable belligerent morons and dangerous belligerent morons. I’d hate to see them overdose on the glory of the media’s dry humping and do something they regret. Better to let them wallow in their own fail and hope they get tired and go home to mommy.

Also I presume they’ve got a short shelf life; at least for 2011. Like dogshit on the lawn they’ll lose relevance as the snow gets deeper.

But Larry Correia was willing to pitch some grade A ridicule in the pinko / hippie movement’s face. “More reasons why the Occupy movement sucks and is lame” is priceless.

First he starts with the most beautiful picture I’ve seen in weeks.  Rather than link to Correia’s version I put it up here and linked it to the New Your Post’s article”Ex-cop boots OWS heckler from congressman’s swearing-in“.

Kevin Hiltunen, a Marine vet and retired NYPD officer, risks getting patchouli and stupidity all over his hands as he escorts a dirty hippie from a Queens High School.

Correia says “The half of America that works for a living is going to print this picture and frame it”.  He’s right.

Then Correia tears the media a new one for trying to equate civilized and purposeful TEA Party events to coddled OWS tantrums:

“Both sides agree that the body politic is unhealthy. The Tea Party solution is the replace the defective parts and put the body on a diet. The OWS solution is to transplant its brain with a cabbage. Then set it on fire.”

A few quotes can’t do it justice.  I implore you to go to Monster Hunter Nation for the whole text.

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Win Win Chicken Trade II

About a month ago I gave away some chickens.  I still had several that needed homes (either the freezer or with someone else who will buy their feed).   I procrastinated because butchering old laying hens is a hassle.

The chickens, perhaps recognizing that I do not run a union shop, produced more eggs than expected.  In fact, they laid so efficiently that I started wondering if I should just keep them another winter.  I even found some new egg buyers and cashed in on the extra supply.  Ka-ching.

But winter is coming and my labor hours are limited. I reluctantly scheduled their day of reckoning for this weekend. Even if they made a profit (which they were) I’d have to butcher them to free up time in for battling snow drifts in January.

At the last minute they got a reprieve.  We found someone who needed chickens! We arranged a trade. The other folks got a couple dozen chickens (who’ve been laying eggs like crazy) and I got a slightly used incubator.

It looks like this:

It looks disturbingly like a very overpriced Styrofoam beer cooler.

It looks like it works.  I’ve been assured it was owned by a little old lady who only drove it on Sundays.  The last I saw of the chickens they looked happy in their new surroundings.  I love it when a deal works for everybody

P.S.  I’m going to ask Santa for an egg turner…and world peace.  I’m betting I might get an egg turner.

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Survivor Chicken

I have been periodically removing chickens from one of my pens.  The goal is to have it empty before winter is in full force.  The traditional method would be to butcher them but I’ve gone wobbly and traded them off instead.  (In my defense the freezer is already full of tasty animals.)

Each time I’ve arranged a trade I’ve grabbed a couple dozen birds, put them in a “travel” cage, and driven off.  It’s not surprising that the chickens don’t volunteer for this procedure.

Chickens are like people in that some are brighter than others.  Mine are free range chickens which puts them in the Mensa/Survivalist chicken league.  They’re only penned at night.  Chickens too stupid to get in the door by sunset face a bleak and dangerous night.  Stupid chickens, like teenagers who miss curfew, tend to get into trouble.

Some chickens might have figured out that none who have entered the “travel” cage have come back.  Though that’s probably beyond the mind of a chicken.  This isn’t to disparage poultry.  Frankly I’m not sure most humans plan beyond next Wednesday.  Despite the biological unlikelihood I have the suspicion that some of my Mensa level worldly wise free ranging hens are clever enough to avoid the barn if they see me putting the “travel” cage in the truck.  I imagine them warily sitting in the forest thinking “The truck box thing is afoot.  I’m staying out of harm’s way.”  Perhaps they try to convince their brethren?  “Hear me sisters!  When the box thing is on the truck…some of us vanish.  I don’t know what’s going on but avoid the box thing.”

I’m not going to go tromping through the forest catching hens.  The fattest laziest birds, the ones that rarely leave the pen, are the first to go.  Unemployed yahoos who sit in the basement playing Nintendo should mark these words; you’re first on the list.

I call those early losers the “welfare birds”.  Good riddance to them.  Weeding out the losers means I’m left with hard working birds that are scratching up their own food part of the day.  Welfare birds are always incredibly easy to catch.  (See above: Nintendo)

After several chicken trades the welfare birds are all gone and I have to schedule my forays for when the pen door is shut and escape is impossible.  Incrementally I wind up grabbing wiser, warier birds.  That’s ok.  I need the exercise.

As for the chickens, life is not fair.  The fleet and agile evade me.  The slow and dumb do not. Every time I reach into their pen and remove a bird, the remaining ones are relatively faster, warier, tougher, stronger, and bordering on cunning.

Today, I caught and traded the last of that group of birds.  The last one could bob and weave like a prizefighter.  Whenever I’d get a hand on it it would explode in a fury of flapping and squawking more suitable to a dragon than a farm animal.

I would up frustrated, sweating, and covered with dust.  I tried talking to it with a calming voice.  “Sheesh bird,  I’m not going to butcher anyone.  I’m taking you to a bigger farm.  Where they’ve got a huge pen and lots of room and plenty of feed…”  I paused.  Everything I said was true yet even I didn’t believe myself.  How jaded have we become?  The bird was unaffected by over thinking.  It took it’s chance and blasted from the pen’s corner.  It careened across my chest, bounced off the netting, whacked into the back of my head and somehow got around me yet again.  Wow!

It took several more tries before I finally nabbed it.  Even when I had a good grip it fought like a champ, squawked enough to terrify the chickens in the other pen and get the roosters crowing, and it made several heroic pecks at my gloved hands.  This was the ninja, killer, assassin, jungle warfare, wilderness survival, Navy SEAL, “don’t turn your back on it for one second”, greatest chicken of all time!

I could only admire it’s moxie.  Before I put it in the “travel” cage I took a picture.  Because heroism, even in a silly bird, is impressive.

This chicken is seriously considering taking out the camerman.

This is what the Blair Witch Project would look like in Chicken-vision.

P.S.  When I got to the destination I had to put them in their new home.  I’ll be darned if the same bird waited until my guard was down and made a break for it right there in the driveway.  I cornered it and got it delivered, but honestly, that chicken totally won my heart.  I almost wanted to take it back home and keep it as “fully retired veteran survival hen”.  Well done!

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Black Friday?

It’s 12:05 am. Officially it’s the day after Thanksgiving.

Time for the first turkey sandwich. (My favorite part of the feast!)

Apparently some people associate this day with shopping. I have no idea why.

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