Please
Mr. Congressman,
Dont
Take My Assault Weapons Away
By Mike
Walsh
Published
in 1994 in the Philadelphia Welcomat.
Dear Mr. Congressman,
there is one law in America that must be repealed, a law so unjust that
it could not stand constitutional muster. It is the law that bans assault
weapons. It doesn't require that assault weapons be taken away from those
of us who currently own them, but we all know that this is just the first
step. I can see the day when paramilitary units roam the streets confiscating
all guns, and law-abiding citizens wont be able to protect themselves
from predatory, fully-armed criminals. Thats how the Nazis got started,
good friends, and I for one dont plan to succumb to any Nazi-like
regulations without putting up one helluva fight.
There were thousands
of homicides in America last year, and that makes military-style semi-automatic
assault weapons all the more necessary. Some of the banned assault weapons
on the list are capable of shooting up to 150 rounds without reloading,
and you want to take these glorious examples of destructive capability
away from me? Lets see one of you try. Please, my trigger finger
is feeling a little itchy.
Most people have the
misconception that assault weapons are good for nothing but killing large
numbers of humans quickly and efficiently. While this is certainly a legitimate
reason for owning assault weapons, it is not the only reason. Semi-automatics
are also very useful when dealing with troublesome household problems.
Lets say you need
to dig a hole. Maybe you have to bury something in the back yard. You
could do it the old-fashioned way with a pick and shovel, but thats
not any fun. I get my AR15 with collapsible stock and enlarged clip, envision
some evildoer coming through my front door to take what I got, and cut
loose with a burst of hot lead faster than you can say, Who goes
there?
Theres nothing
like blasting a hole in the earth the size of a Firestone tire in about
fifteen seconds to perk you up when youre feeling down. By the way,
David Koresh had 120 AR15s in his compound when he held off the FBI for
six weeks. If this magnificent representation of advanced civilization
and technology was good enough for him, its good enough for me too.
Or lets say you
hit a rock in that graveer, I meanhole youre digging.
Why get yourself lathered up in a sweat for several hours digging the
sucker out? Dont be a pussy. Blast the mother to kingdom come and
tell me if you dont feel a lot better. In general, if something
is stuck, shoot the living hell out of it. A good ten or fifteen volleys
from a decent semi-automatic will loosen just about anythingman,
beast, or inanimate object.
Maybe you need to move
the couch through a doorway, and it just wont fit by about a half-inch.
So what do you do? You chumps would probably spend the next hour removing
the trim and then replacing it, but not me.
I take out my Tec-9a
sleek little beauty with a nasty attitudeand blow the trim back
to the stone age. Ill have my fat ass parked on the couch gently
caressing a Bud, my Tec-9, and my big beautiful gal within minutes. Who
needs trim anyway? Too damn fancy. I yearn for the days when you fired
first and repeatedly and asked as few questions as possible later.
This brings me to one
of the laws of nature. When you dont get your way, resort to brute
force. Thats where semi-automatic weapons come in. You must understand
this if youre to find any contentment.
By the way, if you need
to squeeze off a dozen rounds or more (and who doesnt find themselves
in that situation many times per day?), get yourself a barrel shroud.
It allows you to grasp a barrel during rapid fire without burning your
hands and improves your accuracy in the process. And silencers are de
rigueur if you use your assault weapon frequently in crowded urban areas,
as I do. A flash suppressor is another handy accessory. It allows you
to fire away at night without being seen. If youre in a nighttime
street battle, you dont need your weapon making an easy target out
of you.
Most assault weapons
also come with finely-tuned breech mechanisms that enable you to fire
rapidly with very slight, repeated squeezes of the trigger. With a little
practice, youll be firing your semi-automatic nearly as fast as
you could a fully automatic weapon, like a machine gun. Wont that
be nice?
Household chores arent
the only reason for owning assault weapons. They also help you garner
the respect of your fellow man, the importance of which cannot be understated.
Intimidation is an ugly word, but there are some members of society who
dont understand anything else.
See, you dont actually
have to shoot anyone with your assault weapon (unless the situation calls
for it). Just letting your fellow man know that you have the ability to
eliminate him or her in seconds changes the way people treat you. (This
is given short shrift by the press, as if it isnt one of the guiding
principles of the universe.) As Senator Joe Biden pointed out, You
pull out an Uzi in a grocery store, and no one gives you any crap.
Hell, yes, Joey-baby. Thats the kind of respect there isnt
enough of in this country.
Lets say a gang
of rapists, pederasts, mutilators, motorcyclists, and homicidal postal
workers is coming at you with God-knows-what in mind. If you point an
AK-47 at themlike the one Patrick Purdy used to murder several Stockton,
California, school children in 1989theyll back off right away.
If they dont, you can easily take out most of them before they get
to you. The gang members left standing may make the few remaining hours
of your life a living hell, but at least youll have earned their
respect.
Heres another anecdote
that may help illustrate this extremely obvious point. Lets say
a group of thugs is making a ruckus on a street corner near your house
at about 1 a.m. Theyre laughing, cursing, drinking, and what-not
while you and your slightly overweight baby are in the sack trying to
concentrate on what comes natural. But you cant do what comes natural
because of the racket. In a sense, your very manhood is being challenged,
and you must respond forcefully.
So you climb out of bed
and out of your babys soft, warm, fleshy arms, and you gaze longingly
up at your assault rifle rack. You wonder, which one is right for the
job? With a sly smile, you pull down the Street Sweeper, a semi-automatic
shotgun capable of firing twelve shells of pure hell from a revolving
gangster-esque cylinder.
So you walk proudly out
your front door in your boxers cradling the cold, heavy, lethal, black
stock, and politely ask the fellas on the corner to reconvene elsewhere.
You might put it like this: Move along, dickheads, unless you enjoy
massive hemorrhaging.
To punctuate the remark,
let fly with a few rounds at the sky, hoot and holler like a jackal, and
watch those ruffians skedaddle like a bunch of wounded jackals. Well,
brother, youll march back into that bedroom a new man and give your
sweet, slightly overweight baby all the love she can handle and has come
to expect from a confident, well-respected man.
Heres another story
that Im willing to share with you. (I have to be careful. The authorities
might be reading this.) I was driving along a highway a few weeks ago
minding my own business when a car passed me in a manner I deemed unsafe.
So I drove up beside the car at a very high speed, beeped and flashed
my lights, waved my arms, and ranted and raved hysterically, trying to
scare the young, long-haired, male into driving safely. Unfortunately,
the suspect made an obscene gesture in my direction. Bad move.
Resorting to violence
is always my last option, but the silly hooligan had given me no other
choice. I had to make an example of him. I pulled out a 9mm Glock from
my armpit holster. This pip holds dozens of rounds of pure power and self-image.
The soft, graceful pistol grip brings hot tears to my eyes and a warm
tingling sensation to my lower torso. (Hey, never mind where I get a warm
tingling sensation. My warm tingling sensations are my business! And whether
my baby and I clean and oil assault weapons together in bedwell,
thats none of your damn business either.)
Friends, you shouldve
seen his face when he got saw the Glock. In that brief instant, as he
stared down the short but accurate barrel, I bet he was real sorry for
every transgression he had committed against the weak and innocent in
his pitiful life. He tried to get away (they always try), but it was too
late. I almost felt sorry for him.
I proceeded to blast
his tires with several slugs of righteous discipline. As he skidded off
the highway, I riddled the front and rear panels of his expensive sports
car with an exquisite line of bullet holes. He skidded into a guard rail
and was promptly rear-ended by several other cars. I saw an explosion
in my rearview mirror and sped off, leaving him behind to consider the
consequences of his poor behavior. No doubt I had taught him a valuable
lesson and made the streets safer, and I couldnt have done it without
the Glock. See what I mean?
Lets face it, its
not safe to patrol the streets of a big city unless youre armed
to the teeth. The more firepower youve got festooned prominently
to your personammo clips, grenades, Uzis, bayonets, etc.the
less likely anyone will step out of line. The idea is to make it clear
that you could and would kill anyone at the slightest provocation.
In fact, with the proper
weaponry and a committed attitude, you could probably take over your entire
neighborhood. Everyone in the communitystore owners, bookies, numbers
runners, dealers, junkies, hookers, deranged Nam vets, streetcorner
evangelists, hucksters and hustlers of every stripewould have to
pay homage to you in whatever form you deemed suitable. Arm a few trusted
underlings, and you could probably gain control of the surrounding neighborhoods
as well. (A pack of well-trained, ruthless Dobermans might help keep order
as well.) But with power comes responsibility, which only those with automatic
weaponry are capable of handling.
Ive said this before
and Ill say it again: if youve got the hardware, you set the
rules. You know it and I know it, folks. See you at the shooting range.
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