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15 September 2013


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Well this is interesting. Sorry if posted by someone else already, seems new.


Thank you TTG, stories like this restore some of my faith in humanity.

Charles I

Lovely little story.

O/T. Computer security expert Bruce Schneier's Sept 15 2013 issue of his monthly Crypto-gram newsletter reviews recent NSA folly's lies and claims. In particular, he opines on claims of the breaking of various encryption algorithms by the NSA, as well as software and hardware suggestions to make snooping directly into your machine as difficult as possible.

Always fascinating, often a source of simple security - or - prank - tips, free to subscribe.

For back issues, or to subscribe, visit

You can read this issue on the web at

These same essays and news items appear in the "Schneier on Security" blog at
http://www.schneier.com/blog, along with a lively and intelligent comment section. An RSS feed is available.


Great article....at first glance I thought we were looking at someone we know but then recognized this gentleman is better looking. Could really use a guy like this at our local church as he could get the raccoons out of the bell tower....the bell mechanism does not work anymore.



You don't like raccoons? I prefer them to people. They are also tasty. pl



Here's a little story of a discussion about raccoons, hounds and such things. It is from "The Butcher's Cleaver" and occurs in the night in the woods at Chancellorsville. Jackson and Lee are seated at their little fire a few feet away. I am sorry to have found it necessary to use the word "nigger" in this piece. I was taught as a child that it is beneath a gentleman to use that word but I cannot imagine Walker saying anything else in the circumstance.

"The two generals sat by the coffee pot waiting for it to boil. Upended cracker boxes made seats. Both men were known for their patience, but it had been a long night.
A Negro cook waited with them, enameled tin mugs in hand.
The regiments of Richard Anderson's division stirred to wakefulness around them in the impenetrable blackness of the forest. Out of the shadows floated the voices of the army.
"So Bones, he chased this old she coon up one side and down the other of the run," a voice announced from nearby. "You could hear him snufflin’ and moanin’ to hisself, smellin’ first one tree'an thann another."
"But, I heerd you say you wanted him to tree the little'uns," responded a second disembodied voice.
"That's right. I surely did, but old Bones he never accepted that anythin’ but a giant boar coon or such like that was good enough for a fine Red Bone like him. So he kept on searchin', and searchin'."
"What happened?" asked the second soldier.
"Well, we had this nigger huntin' with us that evenin'. His name was Jackson, like the gen'ral, you know. I don't believe they are any kin."
Hooting, howling raillery shook the underbrush.
"I don't know what you fellahs are laughin' at, they could be,” the first man said. "He hunted with us some. He had this black Plott hound, big dog, good for rabbits, coons, squirrel, good nose. Jackson bought him from old man McClung in New Baltimore. It was right dark, so I stood still for a while, afeerd of fallin’. I jus’ stood there and listened to Bones attackin' evur tree he could find."
"And?" prodded the other.
"Well, Jim Jackson he spoke my name from about ten feet away. 'Mister Walker,' he said. 'Come over here.' So, I had him keep talkin' until I could find him. It was so dark it was hard as hell to find him and that black dog.
"Come to the point, will you Walker," asked a third person. “I have to go find the colonel, but I want to hear the rest."
"You should tell him this story, Cap'n!" said Walker. “He knows this Jackson, and both these dogs. Anyway, when I got to Jackson he was standin' by a big water poplar pointin' up with his shotgun. The Plott hound had one foot on the trunk and was lookin' straight up, straight as a tent pole. Up in the tree was this she coon we'd been after. She was splayed out on a branch lookin’ at us as calm as she could be."
"So, what did you do?" asked the second man.
"We stood there, the three of us, enjoyin' the noise that Bones was makin’ on the other side of the run. He was near in a frenzy by then. Then I called him. He didn't want to come at fust. When he did, I held him up so he would see the coon. The poor thang! He was so embarrass’t he jest walked away with his head down, wouldn't look at the other dog, didn't come back for three days."
"Where was this?" asked the captain.
"Over to the west, in Rappahannock," replied Walker, "near to Sperryville, behind these Yanks here, God damn them!”
By the fire, the cook poured a mug for Lee, then another for Jackson, who looked up at him. Jim Lewis was Jackson's personal cook. He had come from home with him. Lewis could not help grinning in delight at Walker's story. Jackson just shook his head. "As you can see," he said to Lee, "they are in fine spirits after yesterday." pl


A better story which I appreciate greatly. A good day today as I see Captain Swenson will be getting his well deserved recognition.



do you like my story or not? pl


Like it so much I will be investing in the three books.



Wonderful! Claude and "the boys" will be happy to travel with you for a bit. You know how it must end. I can't prevent that. pl

The Twisted Genius


You will not be disappointed. The trilogy is a spellbinding yarn and much more. You will have the opportunity to gaze into the souls of Virginians of that period. I also like to think of Colonel Lang's books as a primer on how to be a Virginian today.

There have been times when I've seen Major Balthazar sitting in my backyard at the edge of the woods at dusk, frying up some potatoes in bacon grease and wild onions over a small campfire. He beckons me to join him.



Thanks. I don't know which of them I like the best. pat

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