DEAR JON LETTERS
Sort 423: Protect the Right to Bear Arms
Because there are squirrels in my garage
by Dear Jon
April 6, 2010
I would like to thank the author of the actual letter which I published last week. It was a great way to tie in to the whole issue of Sectarian Militias and how they are presented in the Associated Press as "Christian Militias." Having come down hard on upper midwest gun-toting white bigots, I now want to give equal time to those who will be under the misimpression that Dear Jon is nothing but a knee-jerk who thinks the public should only have the right to be armed with bubble makers and dish soap.
This is the drift of dialogue in the United States right now. If you oppose the right of treasonous freaks to conspire together to murder police-officers, then you must hate guns and hug trees and eat only sunflower seeds off the ground provided that their shells had broken first. On the other hand, if you support the right to bear arms, you must be an Obama-hating Palin-lusting dolphin-eating Bible-thumping litter-bug with a gun rack on the back of your Hummer.
So, in the interest of fairness I will give a small amount of time to guns and the people who love them. Such persons, like white bigots, are not hard to find in the upper midwest. However, it is not only white bigots who are armed. There are plenty of multi-cultural drug dealers and illegal immigrants with lots of guns at their disposal. Of course it is the arming of such "non-white" idiots that causes white bigots to justify arming themselves with anti-tank artillery. But in the interest of fairness, I have to add in that of course not all drug dealers are non-white. We know from the upper midwest and plains states that white bigots and their armegeddon cult friends are cooking up all kinds of junk. The process is so refined now that there are on average only one and one-half homes exploding per week in Iowa, as opposed to ten years ago, when entire villages were blowing up in the course of a week-end.
Yes, idiocy knows no ethnic boundaries. One wonders why such a melting-pot nation can trust its citizens with guns. There are a couple of reasons why law-abiding upper midwesterners of all ethnic backgrounds can tout their support for guns. The first reason is held privately by liberals, and we will call this reason "The Darwin Rule." By that theory, guns and meth labs are helping us as Americans sort out our gene pool. Of course we have the collateral damage as well, of the promising honor roll kid caught in the cross-fire between rival gangs of "undocumented" drug-dealers. But on the whole, whether they be white bigots or ghetto gangstas or foot-soldiers for a Mexican cartel or assassins with a Chinese mafia, the fact that they are all killing each other or blowing themselves up in their labs benefits human evolution in the long run.
The only problem with this privately-held liberal theory, of course, is that the women drawn from the cultural strata of drug-dealing race warriors, tend to breed like rabbits. Liberals have found it very difficult to breed at the same rate as drug-abusing street punks, given that in liberal circles women are marrying other women and so on.
I'm not sure if I'm supposed to say something else now to be fair. I seem to be mowing everyone down with the even-handed cynicism my fans love.
Getting back to the reasons why guns are good: I want to go on record as disputing the secret liberal Darwinist agenda. I do not agree with it at all. I want to go to the second reason, held by moderates of all parties:
There are squirrels in my garage.
I live in a town that has been swallowed up in the matrix of Chicagoland cities. With that comes all kinds of rules, prohibiting all kinds of activities, including: using fire-arms to get rid of pests from one's own back yard.
Of course there are lots of reasons for these rules. Such as: Suppose you MISS the squirrel, and the bullet strikes the five year-old on her trike two blocks away? Devestating stories like that are good reasons why suburbs have rules about guns. And devestating stories of freak accidents are why the girl on her trike is wearing a hockey helmet, knee pads, elbow pads, and boots, and can't even pedal because the safety brake has been welded shut by her mother after grandma sent her a newsclipping about a recall of a completely different brand of tricyles built in Pakistan, which suddenly accelerate for no reason, resulting in three sprained ankles in Montgomery Alabama alone.
But devestating circumstances and the rules that we make because of them aren't helping me with my squirrel problem. Here is a devestating circumstance: MY five year-old breathes the air of my garage, and gets rabies from the squirrels living inside. Can we start making rules NOW to cover THAT situation?
The way I see it, upper midwestern cities should pass the Great Guns Exception. If you have pests in the enclosed space of either your garage or your basement, so that you are only shooting in a downward direction, you are free to blast away because this is America gosh darn it.
Just know that you are responsible for anything that happens to pipes and wiring and foundations, and insurance will cover nothing. Also know that if you raise your weapon above 75 degrees from the floor (90 degrees is when you are shooting from the hip parallel to the ground), you can be charged with a felony with a minimum five years in prison. If anyone gets hurt because of your reckless discharge, you get life in prison. If anyone dies, you get the electric chair. No guns can be fired after 8 PM or before 8 AM. You are responsible for all carcass disposal. Because this is America, gosh darn it
These rules would make most of VERY careful about going after squirrels in our garage. Very, very careful. But it would also give us the FREEDOM to go after the squirrels. Believe me, this is not about sport. I am not looking to test my skill within city limits against squirrels hopping from tree to tree. Even if it weren't reckless, which it is, bullets are expensive anyway, so I won't be pumping the lead unless it is a SURE kill.
If a bullet misses, passes through the foundation, ricochets through a hole in the ground, and happens to accidentally hit a meth-cooker in his basement across the street, well that's my bad but we can still chalk it up to Darwin.
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