Real Men/Women of Genius #76

[This, coming in the wake of recent tragedies involving runners and ultrarunners, is bound to “set a few folks off.” But please, bear with me as you would “Mr. Warmth”–Don Rickles–who loves to insult folks, then invite them backstage after the show. Call me “Mr. Cold Dead Hand.” ;-]

Bud Light presents…

REAL MEN OF GENIUS

{Re-al men of geeeeeene-yuss}

Today we salute you, Mr. Defender of the 2nd Amendment–After a Runner Is Killed in a Hunting Accident–For All The Wrong Reasons.

{Mis-ter Smiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiith goes-to-Wassssh-shing-ton and filllllll-i-bussssss-ters for-a-month!}

After such a forest tragedy, someone philosophically raises the question “maybe the 2nd Amendment itself needs amending–or repealing?” and right away you see the ghost of Charlton Heston rising up out of the woodsy morning mist with his bolt-action Springfield thrust upwards towards heaven from his speaker’s platform, where he loudly, deeply, and chillingly intones: “OUT OF MY COLD DEAD HAND!!!”

{We’llllllllll leave you the rif-le and-just-uuuuuuse-it-to-chill-our-beer!}

Please. Save the dramatics. It *is* a legit question because times have changed. Americans are no longer fighting Redcoats, Cherokees, or jaguars and wolves all over their backyard chicken coops. Certainly not with flintlocks, muzzle-loaders, or blunderbusses. And for hunting? What better test of real skill than with a bow and a quiver of arrows?

{“Frommmm the deer stand, ri-co-chet-ing twice, glannnnn-cing off-the-cap-stone, and noth-ing but eye-ball!”}

But no. You argue, along with good old Moses, that it is your by-God Constitutional-given gollamn RIGHT to bear arms–shotguns, rifles, M-16s, AK-47s, 50-caliber machine guns, and armor-piercing weaponry of every description–all because of that Founding Fathers’ mandate for blowing the brains out of a few wild turkeys, fleeing geese, and the occasional sick and limping white-tailed deer.

{“I wannn-na kill-kill!–KILL!!! I’m sit-tin’ here on the Group-W bench, an’ I jus’ wannnnn-na KILL!!!!!!!!!!!”}

The plain fact is, if there were no guns, that dead runner would still be alive. Ohhhh, save it, Mr. Self-Appointed Universal Spokesman for the National Rifle Association. No one’s going to rip that freezing petrified gunstock out from the death-grip of your stiff frozen carcass in January up there in moose country. We’ll wait until spring.

{Jussssssssst like Jer-e-mi-ah Johnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn-son!}

But of course the REAL REASON why you argue how precious is Amendment Second, is because its need was hinted at in the Declaration of Independence where it talks about citizens being able to defend themselves against tyranny, invasion from large armies of foreign mercenaries, and government-incited domestic insurrections–not to mention the fact that the Amendment itself better justifies our militia rather than your hunting down marauding invaders from despotic kings. “It’s my last line of defense!” you argue. “What if we suddenly did have a military takeover, like they have all the time in South America?”

{“The-Bri-tish-are-commmmm-ing! The-Bri-tish-arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrre-commmmmmmmmm-ing!”}

Well, in that case you might just as well lean back and crack open an ice-cold Bud Light, O Paul Revere of the Light Brigade, because now we’re just dying to see how well you *can* defend the neighborhood–even WITH your rec room safe full of barely legal firearms–against that very military coup when it ROARS down your street driving M1A1/2 Abrams battle tanks, with troop carriers firing shoulder-harnessed mini-warheads, jet aircraft strafing your bedrooms, and the occasional ship-launched Tomahawk missile zooming straight at your now-empty rifle-clip-carrying ass at five hundred and fifty miles per hour. Hey, duck!

{Misssssssssss-ter Deeee-fen-der-of-the-2nd-A-mend-ment–After a Run-ner Is Killed in a Hun-ting Ac-ci-dent–For Allllllllll The Wrong Rea-sonnnsss!}

Bud Light beer: we don’t care where they brew it; we just dig their commercials.

( O_O )

Yours troubly,
The Troubadour

Yankee Folly of the Day:
We don’t suppose a bow and a quiver of arrows would make much difference either against the onslaught of roaring tanks.

[Author’s Note: What specifically gave rise to this piece was a “hunting accident” on January 1st in North Carolina that resulted in a trailrunner being fatally shot.]