The one thing that the article doesn't discuss is the type of "Armor Piercing" ammunition that normal citizens can get. There's a brief discussion of this on this Reddit thread. (Yeah, yeah, I know - Reddit. But the info seems reasonable)
After a secret trip across the English Channel, the Bayeux Tapestry is back on English soil for the first time since it was made 900 years ago. It has been loaned to the British Museum by France after a major conservation project to stabilize the fragile textile
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The wool thread embroidery-on-linen tapestry created as a visual record of the William of Normandy’s invasion of England in 1066, was woven in the Canterbury area around 1077. It was commissioned by Odo, Bishop of Bayeux, William the Conqueror’s brother, so when it was complete, the tapestry moved to Normandy and has stayed there ever since.
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It will be exhibited at the British Museum from September 10, 2026, until July 2027. Pre-sales of tickets are already through the roof, with 100,000 sold since tickets for the first four months of the exhibition went on sale July 1.
In exchange for the loan of one of the greatest historic artifacts in French and English history, museums in Normandy will be loaned of the British Museum’s most famous objects, including pieces from the Sutton Hoo Anglo-Saxon ship burial and the Lewis Chessmen.
The tapestry is so famous that people make memes using it.
If you're planning a trip to London in the next year, this should be on your list to see. Or you can go see it in Bayeux in Normandy and see the D-Day beaches.
Actually it has been for a couple of weeks. I've had a pretty bad case of blogger burnout - there's been a number of blog worthy topics and I just haven't been feeling it.
Meh.
Still, 14425 posts and 54948 comments is pretty decent. Especially the comments.
The parts of the world using the metric system refer to the sport as football. The United States calls it soccer. I don't mind the sport. It looks like an excuse to do a lot of running and occasionally to practice your acting skills when someone bumps you. I don't follow it, but I'm an equal opportunity sports ignorer. I'm not following pro football, basketball, golf or tennis, either.
However, I saw in the news that Australia lost to the United States 2-0 and Australians are saying it is the most embarrassing thing ever. Short memory down under, eh?
With the resignation of Sir Kier "Two Tier" Starmer, the UK is poised for its seventh Prime Minister in ten years. That's what happen in failed states.
[Homer Simpson] The seventh Prime Minister in ten years so far.[/Homer Simpson]
Tomorrow is Father's Day here in the States. I don't know where you are but this is what's Top Of Mind here.
From a musical perspective only Country Music really speaks to this. But it speaks in different voices as your kids grow up. Yeah, Country music takes you on that journey.
The other
day my oldest son, who is a freshman at UND (North Dakota, not that
other 'ND') asked me if I remembered taking him, and a couple of his
friends to Pizza Hut for lunch one day. He remembered it like it was
yesterday. I lied to him. I told him I did, and I feel terrible about
it.
Folks, it's not what we recall, it's what our kids do.
Yeah it sucks, but kids grow up, and have to find their place in the world. Sometimes that means pushing back against The Man. As I posted at the time:
For years, Dad and I wouldn't talk. I had a lot of anger in me then,
and it came out in strange ways. Bad ways. Sorry, I won't talk about
what happened with #1 Son, but that he came out right side up didn't
have much to do with me.
This Father's Day weekend, I think on both of those.
Growing up, I knew that my Dad was a great father. He set an example:
he was a fine provider, although we didn't grow up with a lot. Not wealthy, not weepin'.
He was someone who I could look up to, never doubting for an instant
that we were everything to him. He adored Mom. And so it was a
terrible shock to find out, in my forties, that he was made of flesh and
blood. For a while, I couldn't forgive him for that.
I like to think of myself as a smart guy, and I must confess that it's
very nice indeed when someone refers to me as a "wickid smaht bahstid".
But I sure was an idiot when it mattered. Like Dad, I found - perhaps
for the first time - that I, too, was mere flesh and blood. Full of
Foolish Pride, and driving myself into a ditch.
What I remember the most about being a father is is this:
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth.
The Archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might
that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the Archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.
