NRA: Not Real Americans

(07:27:30 PM last night)
Now, I've promised myself to write every day. I let people know, but I don't expect much in the way of readership. And I haven't been disappointed. But I wrote Saturday about the SouthBayOpenCarry card table at the Hermosa Beach Arts Fair. And that brought me readers. Go read the comments. They're fun. I learned several things.

One: Someone is monitoring for this sort of thing. If you Google for any keyword in my post, you will NOT find my post. I looked through 20 pages of Google results for each of about ten terms. Nothing. (Humbling, but part of the scientific method.) Two possibilties are left: I've got more than one Facebook friend who is a Republican, or the NRA is running a spider and has zip-coded rapid response teams. Maybe they even get points at the local gun club. But it was surprising how easy it was to get a response.

Two: Not one of them read what I wrote. I mean, it went in their eyes, and then set off their lower extremities, causing knees to jerk. But that's not reading.

Three: They come in a wide variety of closed minds and jerking knees.

Four: They assume I know nothing of guns, am therefore afraid of them, and in a couple of cases, that a few sessions with one would cure me of said fear.

(07:35:55 PM pause for dinner and a show)
(08:12:12 AM this morning)

The point to my column was something rarely remarked on, that the second amendment was unique in that the authors felt an obvious need to explain why it was included. They explained that a state, in order to remain free, needed a well-regulated militia, because, until WWII, the U.S. didn't see the need to maintain a significant national standing army. It drafted as needed, but only if the volunteer militias of the various states were insufficient to whatever needs the national interest were.

They didn't justify the amendment with a need for personal protection, or a explanation that every other member of 'We The People' should be looked upon with suspicion. In fact, secure in their homes and papers is a completely separate amendment.

Not one of my commentors responded to this.

How they did respond was fun to read. One gave me several Jefferson quotes, all at the ready, pre-fab from his local NRA chapter. One quote says, almost verbatim, that in the range of sports that can keep you in shape, shooting stuff keeps you sharp without taxing you physically (see 'video games') while games played with balls require too much exercise, (and probably bathing, too.) More on this later.

Another was a woman who commented that my blog wouldn't take comments. A dial-tone that can type.
And of course, personal favorite:
"Ah, the problem... A member of the party of treason, hate, and racism complaining about the 2nd Amendment." 

I especially like the "Ah, " at the beginning. As if the author has given this a significant amount of consideration. And this is the great analysis that resulted. At least the one with the list of quotes could keep track of where to cut and paste them from. This one just had to get back from the toilet to watch the second half of Glenn Beck.

Finally, granted, I haven't been shooting...since the Santa Anita Firing Range closed. Always liked that place. Because at a range, just like Jefferson explained, it's a sporting location, like a bowling alley. Bring in the bowling ball/gun, or use one from the house. Ask for a lane, get a scoresheet or 10, maybe you have your own shoes/earcuffs, maybe you use the house's. Don't bowl in the other guy's lane, wait til they roll/shoot before you do. And at the end, you've checked your game, improved on a weakness or developed a new skill, and maybe picked up a twenty betting with someone on who can score best. And you need a shower. Burnt powder stinks worse that cigarettes.

I started shooting when my grandfather let me and my cousin help build a .22 rifle. 'Why does the barrel have eight sides?' I won a few contests with .22s at Boy Scouts when I was living in Wisconsin. My dad was a teacher, not a factory guy, so I was usually one of the boys left in class when the rest went out for deer season or duck season. Ever been to Horicon Marsh? One of my best friends died of a blood disease at twelve. They buried him in his Scout's uniform, with the key's to his new Ski-doo, and his .22LR.

Since then, I've practiced with a little 5-shot S&W Police Chief thumbless revolver, a few automatics from .22 to 9mm, and a 586 S&W which is just dead on the target if I use wadcutters. And that Henry Survival .22 rifle breaks down small for store and carry. (Buy American!) Just needs a little plumbers tape before closing the stock, to keep it watertight.

But my ex-cop and cop friends all recommend 1) don't have a gun at home, because you'll shoot a friend, and 2) if you HAVE to have one at home, have a light action pump shotgun. Because a) you or your wife won't have to aim it well to hit something, b) even if you don't hit anything, you'll scare the crap out of an intruder and alert the neighbors, and c) (and this is a biggie) shot pellets stop somewhere inside the wall, while most penis-replacement bullets with overloads (the usual for macho men) travel through walls, across streets, through furniture, endangering your neighbors several apartments or even houses away.

This last is why open carry is dumb. Because there's just nothing that thrills me more than half a dozen scared, under-experienced, poorly-trained civilians pulling down at the same incident, and starting to fire.

A final note: Women who feel socially inadequate in current American culture get breast implants. Men who feel similarly threatened buy guns. In both cases, I feel sad that you think so little of yourself, and of Americans, that you think this will improve you.

But at least tits won't go off accidentally in the line at Starbucks.

(08:46:46 AM)(09:00:45 AM)