Evidently the guys over at ASSa9.com have a new "hired gun" writing their editorials. Unfortunately, though, from the looks of the writing, it sounds like he/she has yet to graduate from junior high---which takes alot of the fun out of writing for this blog. Sort of like "hunting" for noisy little cockatiels....with your sawed off 12 ga....five feet from the cage.
"Are we afraid of guns?" they ask, like some spastic little megaphone-wielding cheerleader. "A lot of gun guys seem to think so. But we're not. If we were afraid of firearms, we'd wear bulletproof armor all the time, and hesistate to step outside into open areas. If we were afraid of guns, we wouldn't be fighting against them-- we'd be running."
Seriously---it's verbatim.
Of course, just because they choose to hire children to write their editorials, that doesn't necessarily mean their fundamental ideology is awhack. So they make damn sure that we know that, Yes, their fundamentals are indeed awhack, and severly so. After a few words about the recent tragedies at our local schools, and nary a word of condolences to the families crushed by these horrible event, they propose that, obviously, the only possible way of dealing with this problem is to disarm everyone; which, as we all know, actually means disarm everyone except, alas, the crazies who really want to do harm to us and our children.
I really can't do this stuff justice; it speaks for itself. So let's just them dismantle their own argument.
"And yet one pro-gun legislator in Wisconsin has come up with a solution, crazy as it is: arm the teachers.
Sorry? We hire teachers to make our children better people, not shoot them."
Hey, ASSa9 guys, yoo hoo! Over here. Yeah, well, the concept behind arming teachers, or principles, or security guards, is to 1) create a deterrent, and 2) shoot the crazies, not the children.
But wait! There's more. The discombobulated rant stumbles forward:
"They" (btw: that would be you and I, Joe and Jenny Sixpack) "think the feds are out to get their guns, or the UN, or the ATF, or local sheriffs, or anyone else just around the corner!"
You know, ASSa9 guys, there is an argument to be made that all of the above (the possible exception being your local non-big-city sheriff) seem to be doing their utmost to disarm the population: 20,000 fed, state, local (unconstitutional) gun laws; the UN's relentless campaign to ban "small arms" for all non-govt personnel; certain ATF agent's harrassement of law-abiding gun-show attendees; and the list goes on, eternally.
"And don't even get them started on criminals-- the NRA has them thinking that it's a guaranteed that they're going to be raped and murdered in America-- unless they buy a gun and pay their NRA membership."
Wrongo! Again. Never mind the fact that the NRA has proven itself all-too willing to bargain with those who would take away our 2nd Amendment rights, tossing around those rights like so many poker chips in a game of gun-monopoly. (They do appear to be on the mend, however.) If the NRA has anyone convinced they'll be "raped and murdered in America," it must be the ASSa9 guys; I don't know anyone who lives with such fear---especially if they own a gun, practice with it on at least a semi-regular basis, and keep it handy.
Hold on, friends, because this is where it gets really good, and, frankly, where it becomes so painfully apparent that the only person who could've written this is junior-higher (or an elementary school student).
"And so they don't see the real solutions to gun violence. Create laws that keep guns out of the hands of criminals."
Of course! Why the heck didn't anyone think of that before?! Laws! Just like the laws that keep drugs off the streets; laws that keep gangs from congealing in the inner cities, like so much effluent clogging the sewers; laws that keep people from witholding as many of their precious hard-earned dollars out the government's greedy little sticky fingers; laws that keep illegal immigrants on their side of the our (seemingly non-existent) borders; and so on an so forth.
He/She wraps it up with a few words of encouragement to their sheeple, and one last bit of not-so sage advice: "Don't cower in the corner thinking your .45 is the only thing between you and a horrible death."................ahhh, well.......unless you actually are cowering in a corner, staring through tears at that precious .45 in your trembling hand, praying to God that you won't have to use it to prevent your and your little daughter's "horrible death." (at which time, please, feel free to point it in the direction of the attacker and pull the trigger, over and over, until the attacker is lying in a pool of his own foul blood....dead....with our blessings)
Peace be on you, brothers, sisters and friends.
Keep your powder dry and your gun loaded,
Jefferson
Friday, October 06, 2006
Sunday, October 01, 2006
An open letter to ASSa9.com
After receiving today's ASSa9.com "WEEKEND UPDATE" re. the wonderful governor of Indiana's push to allow firearms in state parks, and hearing yet another idiot screaming about how it'll be the old west, shoot 'em up bang bang, all over again, well, I just really felt a calling to try and help them pull their pointy little heads out of their dumb asses.
To wit:
Dear ASSa9 Guys,
The "dangerous" people (i.e. law-abiding citizens with firearms) in the state parks are not the ones who belong to NRA and GOA; they are the gang-bangers, drunks, and speed-freaks; people who, regardless of how many stupid rules and regulations you post up on a sign, will bring their guns into the park anyway, leaving those of you unarmed fools at a substantial disadvantage, when the shootin' starts, that is. Are you all too incredibly myopic to understand that the only people you'll ever succeed in disarming are the law-abiding citizens---and that a law-abiding, armed "gun guy" will likely be the only one who will come to your aid when that crackhead/terrorist/ex-husband-or-wife/disgruntled postal worker shoots your dumb asses, grabs your daughter and tries to rape her right in front of your pathetically helpless, unarmed face. (Well, actually, if I knew it was you who was getting shot up, I'd probably hand 'em a few more mags to make sure they got the job done. However, I would do my damnedest to save your daughter; it's not her fault she was born to a slave.)
Sincerely,
A Free American
To wit:
Dear ASSa9 Guys,
The "dangerous" people (i.e. law-abiding citizens with firearms) in the state parks are not the ones who belong to NRA and GOA; they are the gang-bangers, drunks, and speed-freaks; people who, regardless of how many stupid rules and regulations you post up on a sign, will bring their guns into the park anyway, leaving those of you unarmed fools at a substantial disadvantage, when the shootin' starts, that is. Are you all too incredibly myopic to understand that the only people you'll ever succeed in disarming are the law-abiding citizens---and that a law-abiding, armed "gun guy" will likely be the only one who will come to your aid when that crackhead/terrorist/ex-husband-or-wife/disgruntled postal worker shoots your dumb asses, grabs your daughter and tries to rape her right in front of your pathetically helpless, unarmed face. (Well, actually, if I knew it was you who was getting shot up, I'd probably hand 'em a few more mags to make sure they got the job done. However, I would do my damnedest to save your daughter; it's not her fault she was born to a slave.)
Sincerely,
A Free American
once again
He wakes up in his comfortable bed, next to his comfortable wife, in his comfortable home tucked into the comfortable little neighborhood over on the comfortable side of town. And he wonders….
…..what have I done?
And he thinks….and he dozes….and he wakes….and he thinks….
He gets up and pulls on a bathing suit and walks outside to the edge of the pool. He puts his feet together and leans forward with his hands on his knees and catches his reflection in the water.
“We haven’t done a fucking thing,” it says, shaking its head in disgust.
“What the hell are we supposed to do?” he shrugs.
“It’s been three years since we woke up to what’s happening in this country,” it says, “and what have we done?”
“We bought some guns, and we stored up 6 months worth of supplies.”
“Wow. That oughta scare the bejezus out of Washington.”
“What the hell are we supposed to do? Start our own war?”
“Why not?”
“That oughta do a helluva lotta good. I can just see the headlines now, ‘Constitutionalist sentenced to 300 years-and-a-day for plotting overthrow of government and stockpiling weapons…’”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. What’s the point? Might as well throw in the towel. I mean, you can’t shoot the bastards, yet.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“No, no, I know what you meant. You meant that you’re not about to join one of those mid-life-crisis whacko Idaho militias—they’ll all be spanked and sent home with their collective tail between their legs anyway—and you’re not about to go around like some loose cannon taking meaningless potshots at whatever target-of-opportunity happens to cross your reticle.”
“Exactly! I mean what’s a guy supposed to do, short of selling everything and cashing it in on for gold coins and millet and heading off to four-corners to wait for Civil War II?”
“Exactly.”
“Exactly.”
“…………………well, I guess that’d be…..”
“…………a start?”
“Yeah. But it sounds a little too much like a replay of the Mormon invasion.”
“Well, so what, so they were a century-and-a-half ahead of their time. So maybe it takes a philandering megalomaniac to bring things to a boil, to bring the insidiously grasping aspect of democracy to the surface where it can be dealt with.”
“Maybe.”
“The David Koreshes.”
“The Randy Weavers.”
“I see your point. But, do we really want to be lumped into that ball of dough?”
“Do you really want to hand down to your grandchildren the broken mess we’ve created, which, by the way, we are just as responsible for as George Bush and Hilary Clinton?”
“Do we have any choice? I mean, it’s like global warming, even if we knew for sure where to start, who knows if even our great grandchildren would see any change in their lifetimes. I mean, without completely razing the whole bureaucratically entrenched clusterfuck in Washington, what difference will it make whether or not a few million people are ‘allowed’ to own guns?”
“Or whether or not they take 57% or 63% of the fruits of our labor?”
“Exactly.”
“Maybe Ayn Rand was right.”
“Just let ‘em have the reins?”
“Exactly.”
“Let ‘em run it into the ground.”
“Full speed ahead.”
“So you think there’s no turning the ship around?”
“Actually, I think the more apropos metaphor is a train, and the tracks are laid.”
“Not even possible to turn it around?”
“Exactly.”
“All hope is lost.”
“Hope is never lost. We can always destroy the tracks.”
He stands up and shakes his head, casts a sidelong glance toward the bedroom window, wondering if he was only hearing this inner dialogue, or if he was actually talking to himself. Behind the bedroom window his wife snoozes happily. The thought of losing all he’s worked for these last 22 years feels like a ships anchor chained to his neck and sucked firmly into the muddy ocean bottom.
He stretches, and twists his torso. He bobs up and down on his tip-toes, stretching the night's rigor mortis out of his calves, and he breathes in a lungful of the early morning chill, anticipating the deliciously summer-warm crystal-clear pool water flowing across his skin. He leans over and grabs his knees once more, shaking off the frustrating dialogue from his shoulders a the day’s more immediate needs and wants begin to flood in, demanding his attention. His muscles tense and he launches, his arms reaching out toward an unsure future, and dives into yet another day.
Once again.
Ute Studenberg
…..what have I done?
And he thinks….and he dozes….and he wakes….and he thinks….
He gets up and pulls on a bathing suit and walks outside to the edge of the pool. He puts his feet together and leans forward with his hands on his knees and catches his reflection in the water.
“We haven’t done a fucking thing,” it says, shaking its head in disgust.
“What the hell are we supposed to do?” he shrugs.
“It’s been three years since we woke up to what’s happening in this country,” it says, “and what have we done?”
“We bought some guns, and we stored up 6 months worth of supplies.”
“Wow. That oughta scare the bejezus out of Washington.”
“What the hell are we supposed to do? Start our own war?”
“Why not?”
“That oughta do a helluva lotta good. I can just see the headlines now, ‘Constitutionalist sentenced to 300 years-and-a-day for plotting overthrow of government and stockpiling weapons…’”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. What’s the point? Might as well throw in the towel. I mean, you can’t shoot the bastards, yet.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“No, no, I know what you meant. You meant that you’re not about to join one of those mid-life-crisis whacko Idaho militias—they’ll all be spanked and sent home with their collective tail between their legs anyway—and you’re not about to go around like some loose cannon taking meaningless potshots at whatever target-of-opportunity happens to cross your reticle.”
“Exactly! I mean what’s a guy supposed to do, short of selling everything and cashing it in on for gold coins and millet and heading off to four-corners to wait for Civil War II?”
“Exactly.”
“Exactly.”
“…………………well, I guess that’d be…..”
“…………a start?”
“Yeah. But it sounds a little too much like a replay of the Mormon invasion.”
“Well, so what, so they were a century-and-a-half ahead of their time. So maybe it takes a philandering megalomaniac to bring things to a boil, to bring the insidiously grasping aspect of democracy to the surface where it can be dealt with.”
“Maybe.”
“The David Koreshes.”
“The Randy Weavers.”
“I see your point. But, do we really want to be lumped into that ball of dough?”
“Do you really want to hand down to your grandchildren the broken mess we’ve created, which, by the way, we are just as responsible for as George Bush and Hilary Clinton?”
“Do we have any choice? I mean, it’s like global warming, even if we knew for sure where to start, who knows if even our great grandchildren would see any change in their lifetimes. I mean, without completely razing the whole bureaucratically entrenched clusterfuck in Washington, what difference will it make whether or not a few million people are ‘allowed’ to own guns?”
“Or whether or not they take 57% or 63% of the fruits of our labor?”
“Exactly.”
“Maybe Ayn Rand was right.”
“Just let ‘em have the reins?”
“Exactly.”
“Let ‘em run it into the ground.”
“Full speed ahead.”
“So you think there’s no turning the ship around?”
“Actually, I think the more apropos metaphor is a train, and the tracks are laid.”
“Not even possible to turn it around?”
“Exactly.”
“All hope is lost.”
“Hope is never lost. We can always destroy the tracks.”
He stands up and shakes his head, casts a sidelong glance toward the bedroom window, wondering if he was only hearing this inner dialogue, or if he was actually talking to himself. Behind the bedroom window his wife snoozes happily. The thought of losing all he’s worked for these last 22 years feels like a ships anchor chained to his neck and sucked firmly into the muddy ocean bottom.
He stretches, and twists his torso. He bobs up and down on his tip-toes, stretching the night's rigor mortis out of his calves, and he breathes in a lungful of the early morning chill, anticipating the deliciously summer-warm crystal-clear pool water flowing across his skin. He leans over and grabs his knees once more, shaking off the frustrating dialogue from his shoulders a the day’s more immediate needs and wants begin to flood in, demanding his attention. His muscles tense and he launches, his arms reaching out toward an unsure future, and dives into yet another day.
Once again.
Ute Studenberg
Saturday, September 30, 2006
Congressman Resigns Over E-Mails to Page
Now, if this guy---Republican Representative Mark Foley from Florida---doesn't commit hara kiri (hari kari), then the Republican party has lost all credibility. I give him about a week, before he falls on his own sword, as he well should.
Don't get me wrong, you Q-factor members of GDQ, I have no quarrel with Queers, per se, nor with what any of you (consenting adults) choose to do with one another. But when the chairman(!) of the Missing and Exploited Children's Caucus is caught---red-handed (regrettably, I'll have to pass on the fantastic opportunity that well-worn metaphor presents), pants down, cookie jar open, chocolate on face, etc---sending blatant sexually-suggestive e-mails to 16-year-old high school volunteers, be they male or female, well, that's where we here at GDQ draw the line.
As you can well guess, NAMBLA need not apply for membership in the GDQ, Nor should any ranking Republicans. Because if they knew about this disgusting little proclivity of Mark Foley's almost a year ago(!), and never did anything to make absolutely sure that he would never be able to abuse, tempt, or otherwise harm the very same kids he was supposed to be protecting, then the Republicans (my former party) just lost the last-tiny-bit-of-a-shred of decency they once had.
Jefferson
Don't get me wrong, you Q-factor members of GDQ, I have no quarrel with Queers, per se, nor with what any of you (consenting adults) choose to do with one another. But when the chairman(!) of the Missing and Exploited Children's Caucus is caught---red-handed (regrettably, I'll have to pass on the fantastic opportunity that well-worn metaphor presents), pants down, cookie jar open, chocolate on face, etc---sending blatant sexually-suggestive e-mails to 16-year-old high school volunteers, be they male or female, well, that's where we here at GDQ draw the line.
As you can well guess, NAMBLA need not apply for membership in the GDQ, Nor should any ranking Republicans. Because if they knew about this disgusting little proclivity of Mark Foley's almost a year ago(!), and never did anything to make absolutely sure that he would never be able to abuse, tempt, or otherwise harm the very same kids he was supposed to be protecting, then the Republicans (my former party) just lost the last-tiny-bit-of-a-shred of decency they once had.
Jefferson
Friday, September 29, 2006
....it's time to have us an ol' fashion lynchin'
Or, as Claire Wolfe might (hopefully, finally) concede, it's time to start "shootin' the bastards." Or, at the very least, put 'em on a chain gang for the rest of their miserable lives. Because there really is no excuse for the crimes perpetrated against the good (tax-paying) citizens of The People's Republic of Kalifornia; where our "public servants" do their darnedest to emulate the hilariously inept policies of those swinish scoundrels of Orwell's Animal Farm: i.e. spend more than you can possibly pay for.
To the tune of ONE-POINT-THREE (get this) T-R-I-L-L-I-O-N DOLLARS.
Nor shall any tears be shed for the bastards (and bastardettes) as the vermin cry "Unfair, unfair! Dont' shoot us! We didn't know!" To such sniveling grovellations our reply must be firm: "Then why on earth would you condemn your children and grandchildren and their grandchildren to a horrible future of indentured servitude; which WILL be required to pay for services which YOU guaranteed without so much as even pencilling out the long-term costs? (And, oh yeah, by the way, all we have left is Slim Price brand for those of you who feel the need for a last smoke. We couldn't afford the $275-per-pack cigarette tax. So sorry.)
"But, but, but," they'll inevitably plead, "we thought the next legislature would be able to fix---"
"Blindfolds, anyone?"
"But, but, my prof at Berkeley said that in The Communist Manifes---"
"READY!.........."
"But, but, WAIT! We can get it from the greedy Kalifornia businessme---
"AIM!.........."
"WAIT! Those bullets have LEAD in them. That's cruel and unusual punishm---"
"FIRE!"
A little harsh, you say? Nyet. It's what we (now) do to people in whom we have invested the power to make good, sound decisions for our future---after they sell us out for political power and personal gain. We didn't build their mansions and buy their boats and airplanes and fill their portfolios with Microsoft and Pepsi stocks only to have them put us in leg irons for the foreseeable future, and beyond. Think of it as a slave revolt.
So we tighten the collective belt, you say, bite the bullet, buckle down, and otherwise begin the long and uncomfortable job of cleaning up this unconscionable mess they've left us. Well, sadly, it ain't that easy, folks, even if there were even so much as an ice-cube's chance in hell that Kalifornia lawmakers were even remotely capable of changing their treacherous ways. No, it's a sad, slow death by strangulation for us Kalifornians (and pretty much everyone else in the US, too), for there is no way on earth that this debt will EVER be paid off. And, even if it could be paid off, in the meantime our public infrastructure will continue to crumble for lack of funding, as our tax-dollars go increasingly toward the ever-mounting "debt service." Roads become deadly potholed nightmares; hospitals close their doors to the poor victims of those potholed nightmares; piers fall into the ocean; airports close; police officers, after being downsized, and with no marketable skills, use the only skill they have (thugging) in order to feed their babies; while those cops who do manage to hang on to their jobs, after accepting the necessary 60% cut in pay, begin shaking down the people who they're supposed to be protecting (think Tony Soprano). (No, I do not believe that police-people are any worse, nor better, than the average Joe. However, as someone far wiser than I once said: "Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.")
If you think this is just some bible-toting redneck's post-liberalyptic delusions, well, think again---after first taking a good look at Russia. Because there, in that once-believed-to-be-grand, yet pathetically naive experiment with socialism (regardless of what those pointy-headed men & women in the UC mis-educational sytem told you) the laws of nature (i.e. Newton, thermodynamics, Einstein, economics, simple arithmetic, The Golden Rule, etc) were somehow declared null and void. And now, almost twenty years after throwing in the towel on their eighty years of tinkering and twisting-of-the-dials of their massive and unpredictably tempermental economic machine; and even after building twenty thousand miles of metaphorical dikes to hold back the ever-rising tide of reality which surrounded their self-imposed isolation, they are paying the terrible price for their pseudo-intellectual insolence. Slavery.
And we're not too far behind them.
But, though cold comfort it will be---demanding that the people who are responsible for our enslavement pay for their crimes---it's at least a beginning. And hopefully a deterrent---to future generations of lawmakers who fail to carefully consider the long-term consequences of meddling with the lives of their neighbors. And their neighbors' children. And their grandchildren.
If nothing else, it might at least get them to do the math.
Your brother in insurrection,
Jefferson
To the tune of ONE-POINT-THREE (get this) T-R-I-L-L-I-O-N DOLLARS.
$1,300,000,000,000.00
or, if that's a bit much for your brain to process, as it is mine, try this on for size:
$130,000.00
per current Kalifornia taxpayer
Yes, in what should be considered the capital crime of High Ineptitude in Public Office (punishable by death by firing squad), the various Kalifornia politicals and governmentals have, over the last 80-or-so years, and knowing full well that there was no way in which to guarantee funding.......nevertheless.........guaranteed funding...........for pensions, for medical plans, for dental plans, and for all manner of various other percs. No, not just for their own greedy selves but for hundreds of thousands of public employees; from the lowliest of Lawmaker-swine all the way up to---one of the few positions that actually provides any real services for us Kalifornians---garbage men.
Nor shall any tears be shed for the bastards (and bastardettes) as the vermin cry "Unfair, unfair! Dont' shoot us! We didn't know!" To such sniveling grovellations our reply must be firm: "Then why on earth would you condemn your children and grandchildren and their grandchildren to a horrible future of indentured servitude; which WILL be required to pay for services which YOU guaranteed without so much as even pencilling out the long-term costs? (And, oh yeah, by the way, all we have left is Slim Price brand for those of you who feel the need for a last smoke. We couldn't afford the $275-per-pack cigarette tax. So sorry.)
"But, but, but," they'll inevitably plead, "we thought the next legislature would be able to fix---"
"Blindfolds, anyone?"
"But, but, my prof at Berkeley said that in The Communist Manifes---"
"READY!.........."
"But, but, WAIT! We can get it from the greedy Kalifornia businessme---
"AIM!.........."
"WAIT! Those bullets have LEAD in them. That's cruel and unusual punishm---"
"FIRE!"
A little harsh, you say? Nyet. It's what we (now) do to people in whom we have invested the power to make good, sound decisions for our future---after they sell us out for political power and personal gain. We didn't build their mansions and buy their boats and airplanes and fill their portfolios with Microsoft and Pepsi stocks only to have them put us in leg irons for the foreseeable future, and beyond. Think of it as a slave revolt.
So we tighten the collective belt, you say, bite the bullet, buckle down, and otherwise begin the long and uncomfortable job of cleaning up this unconscionable mess they've left us. Well, sadly, it ain't that easy, folks, even if there were even so much as an ice-cube's chance in hell that Kalifornia lawmakers were even remotely capable of changing their treacherous ways. No, it's a sad, slow death by strangulation for us Kalifornians (and pretty much everyone else in the US, too), for there is no way on earth that this debt will EVER be paid off. And, even if it could be paid off, in the meantime our public infrastructure will continue to crumble for lack of funding, as our tax-dollars go increasingly toward the ever-mounting "debt service." Roads become deadly potholed nightmares; hospitals close their doors to the poor victims of those potholed nightmares; piers fall into the ocean; airports close; police officers, after being downsized, and with no marketable skills, use the only skill they have (thugging) in order to feed their babies; while those cops who do manage to hang on to their jobs, after accepting the necessary 60% cut in pay, begin shaking down the people who they're supposed to be protecting (think Tony Soprano). (No, I do not believe that police-people are any worse, nor better, than the average Joe. However, as someone far wiser than I once said: "Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.")
If you think this is just some bible-toting redneck's post-liberalyptic delusions, well, think again---after first taking a good look at Russia. Because there, in that once-believed-to-be-grand, yet pathetically naive experiment with socialism (regardless of what those pointy-headed men & women in the UC mis-educational sytem told you) the laws of nature (i.e. Newton, thermodynamics, Einstein, economics, simple arithmetic, The Golden Rule, etc) were somehow declared null and void. And now, almost twenty years after throwing in the towel on their eighty years of tinkering and twisting-of-the-dials of their massive and unpredictably tempermental economic machine; and even after building twenty thousand miles of metaphorical dikes to hold back the ever-rising tide of reality which surrounded their self-imposed isolation, they are paying the terrible price for their pseudo-intellectual insolence. Slavery.
And we're not too far behind them.
But, though cold comfort it will be---demanding that the people who are responsible for our enslavement pay for their crimes---it's at least a beginning. And hopefully a deterrent---to future generations of lawmakers who fail to carefully consider the long-term consequences of meddling with the lives of their neighbors. And their neighbors' children. And their grandchildren.
If nothing else, it might at least get them to do the math.
Your brother in insurrection,
Jefferson
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Coming Out Of The Closet
No, I'm not gay. Sorry.
Nor am I a drug user.
On second thought, maybe I should have called it, Coming Out Of The Gun Closet, because, and I'll be the first to admit, I am a bona fide ballist-o-phile. Or, as those of you who consider yourselves to be sensible, progressive-thinking, enlightened citizens of the modern world might call me, "a certifiable gun-nut." Guilty as charged. Anyway, over the past three years, since catching this fever they call Gun Lust, and while being held tightly in the clutches of this ever-broadening obsession with social liberty and personal freedom, I've come to understand a few things:
1) Little by little my rights with regards to self-defense (defense from the entire spectrum of criminal behavior, from the lowliest of thugs all the way up to that most insidious of thuggery: the incessant chipping away at the 2nd amendment) are falling under the constant onslaught by the various city, county, state & federal bureaucracies which have taken it upon themselves to act as society's nannies (when all that is really required are a couple of part-time maids).
2) And, along with our right to a means of self-defense, our right to privacy in our homes and persons, our right to keep and use as we see fit the fruits of our labors, our right to self-medicate (and the list goes on and on)---all these rights are vanishing at an astonishing rate. Yet we simply watch them disappear.
3) The only difference between the end results of the failed policies of Republicans and Democrats is that it seems as though Democrats are in a slightly bigger hurry to completely destroy the last vestiges freedom---or at least it used to seem that way, before our current Bush began his grand assault on the constitution and the bill of rights, and the world.
4) Americans, on the whole, following the lead of our European cousins, have given up entirely the concept of individual sovereignty and personal freedom; trading those once-dear concepts for the now-holy "greater good." Unfortunately this greater good is neither; and the blind pursuit of this utopian concept has created not only the "entitlment" underclass which now exists throughout the western world, but it has doomed the increasingly overburdened middle-class to picking up the bill for this hopeless, helpless and sadly brainwashed Entitlement underclass.
5) There appears to be no help in sight, as those responsible for "fixing" society's problems simply pile one failed social experiment atop the last in a never-ending succession of grand blunders. And with regards to 2nd Amendment issues: regardless of who gains the upperhand over the next few voting cycles, the "middle of the road" Republicans, ever willing to bargain away ANYTHING in the never-ending Republican VS Democrat celebrity death match, have already given away too much to ever stem the outgoing tide of 2nd Amendment rights.
6) There is no better time than the present to, as they say, take the bull by the horns.
The unlikely conclusion:
Though it certainly sounds, even to me, ludicrously counterintuitive, I believe that our last best hope for freedom, here in this once-great collection of independent states, will be in the power of coalition. A gridlock-coalition of strange bedfellows, as it were. This gridlock-coalition will, at least in the beginning, be made of of gun nuts, drug-users and queers. The three most trampled upon sectors of society.
Granted: queers seem to be on a politically-correct trajectory toward almost complete social acceptance---normalization in drug-speak. But this very well may be a short-lived phenomenon, reversing itself completely once the religious right secures its death grip on Washington. Obviously, the foundations of this unlikely menage a trois, so to speak, will be based less on mutual respect for each other's mutually distateful proclivities, and more on the neolithic political expedient: my enemy's enemy is my friend---that and mutual support.
i.e. You don't mess with my guns, I won't mess with your drugs and crotchless panties. I'll even go so far as to use my barrel-of-a-gun political power to defend you against those social-meddlers who would have you jailed and/or castrated for your actions; and I expect you to do likewise, using any and all your resources in my defense.
Jefferson
Nor am I a drug user.
On second thought, maybe I should have called it, Coming Out Of The Gun Closet, because, and I'll be the first to admit, I am a bona fide ballist-o-phile. Or, as those of you who consider yourselves to be sensible, progressive-thinking, enlightened citizens of the modern world might call me, "a certifiable gun-nut." Guilty as charged. Anyway, over the past three years, since catching this fever they call Gun Lust, and while being held tightly in the clutches of this ever-broadening obsession with social liberty and personal freedom, I've come to understand a few things:
1) Little by little my rights with regards to self-defense (defense from the entire spectrum of criminal behavior, from the lowliest of thugs all the way up to that most insidious of thuggery: the incessant chipping away at the 2nd amendment) are falling under the constant onslaught by the various city, county, state & federal bureaucracies which have taken it upon themselves to act as society's nannies (when all that is really required are a couple of part-time maids).
2) And, along with our right to a means of self-defense, our right to privacy in our homes and persons, our right to keep and use as we see fit the fruits of our labors, our right to self-medicate (and the list goes on and on)---all these rights are vanishing at an astonishing rate. Yet we simply watch them disappear.
3) The only difference between the end results of the failed policies of Republicans and Democrats is that it seems as though Democrats are in a slightly bigger hurry to completely destroy the last vestiges freedom---or at least it used to seem that way, before our current Bush began his grand assault on the constitution and the bill of rights, and the world.
4) Americans, on the whole, following the lead of our European cousins, have given up entirely the concept of individual sovereignty and personal freedom; trading those once-dear concepts for the now-holy "greater good." Unfortunately this greater good is neither; and the blind pursuit of this utopian concept has created not only the "entitlment" underclass which now exists throughout the western world, but it has doomed the increasingly overburdened middle-class to picking up the bill for this hopeless, helpless and sadly brainwashed Entitlement underclass.
5) There appears to be no help in sight, as those responsible for "fixing" society's problems simply pile one failed social experiment atop the last in a never-ending succession of grand blunders. And with regards to 2nd Amendment issues: regardless of who gains the upperhand over the next few voting cycles, the "middle of the road" Republicans, ever willing to bargain away ANYTHING in the never-ending Republican VS Democrat celebrity death match, have already given away too much to ever stem the outgoing tide of 2nd Amendment rights.
6) There is no better time than the present to, as they say, take the bull by the horns.
The unlikely conclusion:
Though it certainly sounds, even to me, ludicrously counterintuitive, I believe that our last best hope for freedom, here in this once-great collection of independent states, will be in the power of coalition. A gridlock-coalition of strange bedfellows, as it were. This gridlock-coalition will, at least in the beginning, be made of of gun nuts, drug-users and queers. The three most trampled upon sectors of society.
Granted: queers seem to be on a politically-correct trajectory toward almost complete social acceptance---normalization in drug-speak. But this very well may be a short-lived phenomenon, reversing itself completely once the religious right secures its death grip on Washington. Obviously, the foundations of this unlikely menage a trois, so to speak, will be based less on mutual respect for each other's mutually distateful proclivities, and more on the neolithic political expedient: my enemy's enemy is my friend---that and mutual support.
i.e. You don't mess with my guns, I won't mess with your drugs and crotchless panties. I'll even go so far as to use my barrel-of-a-gun political power to defend you against those social-meddlers who would have you jailed and/or castrated for your actions; and I expect you to do likewise, using any and all your resources in my defense.
Hopefully, as our coalition gains momentum, other marginalized groups will jump on board and we can keep building momentum until we reach that magical point of critical mass, at which point we shall cease to be satisfied with gridlock and begin to roll over those who seek to control every aspect of our lives.
Sincerely,
Jefferson
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