That's right, it's Knob Creek time this weekend. I'll be headed south today with Shootin' Buddy so as to hopefully take in the Patton Museum at Fort Knox again (and this time not forgetting my camera,) before going to the shoot proper tomorrow.
While I'm at the gun show there, I'm hoping to find
...a rapid-fire variant of lower part of the AR-15 semi-automatic assault rifle, a type of firepower component that was outlawed in America for a decade before then-President George W. Bush and a Republican-controlled Congress allowed the assault-weapon ban to expire in 2004....because that would be awesome. Hopefully it'll include the shoulder thing that goes up.
Then I'll mutter and seethe in inchoate rage, as I hear and pass along strange, racist conspiracy theories about socioeconomic factors that are far over my little peasant head, what with its prognathous jaw and hint of an occipital bun... Or at least that's what Will Bunch would have you believe I'll be doing there.
Shootin' Buddy likes to refer to Sunday's NPR entertainment as "liberals sitting around and feeling better than you," and that's the exact same vibe that comes out in the writings of Bunch, a guy who writes about the hinterlands west of the outer suburbs of Philly (and their inhabitants) with the same mixture of patronizing pity and repressed loathing that characterized the journals of Victorian Brits roaming the backwaters of the Zambezi. Want another sample?
And on that human level, the common denominator I found time and time again was fear -- whether it was folks whose jobs vanished when they were in their late 40s and early 50s who turned to Glenn Beck or a group like the Oath Keepers to figure out who to blame, or people seeking an outlet for their "discomfort" over a rapidly changing America that had so suddenly placed a black man with an unorthodox life story in the Oval Office. But in a group setting, raw fear can get masked by bravado crossing the line into hate.I half expect him to tell his readers that they need to help these poor befuddled haters, that they need to Take Up The... er, White Man's Burden, as it were.
15 comments:
"Worthington, peer out the library portico and tell me what is that racket out beyond the veranda?"
"Great Scott, Mr. Smythe...the natives appear to have arms and seem to be less than pleased."
"Hrummph. After tea, place a call to my solicitor. We'll have to send those rowdies a letter and let them know in no uncertain terms that such behavior simply won't be tolerated."
Didn't take him long for Godwin's Law to kick in, did it?
Say Hi to the boys at DPMS for me, it will bug the heck out of them how you know me.
Stan
So who's making the Poor Befuddled Haters patch? Got room on my Browncoat.
Damn, woman, how can you even click on a HuffPo link without a decon suit? makes my skin crawl just to see the URL pop up at the bottom of the screen. I hope you hosed that stupid off you before you let SB come near you.
"But in a group setting, raw fear can get masked by bravado crossing the line into hate."
Me thinks he doth project too much.
I think more of the Puffington Host folks would rather use the "red button" on us poor benighted haters
Beautiful ending line there. Made me snort aloud.
"White Man's Burden"?
Ouch.
That's leaving a mark.
occipital bun
I admit, I had to look that up, all the while making pre-literate grunting sounds.
Jeez, there's some weapons grade stupid in Philly. But having lived briefly across the river in NJ and avidly devoured the Inquirer for the latest on who was getting indicted and who had suddenly disappeared on the eve of his scheduled testimony, they're good for it there.
Thing is, we bitter clingers understand these folks better than they understand us. We also understand them better than they think we do. Let's be careful of showing our hand, though - it's a great benefit to be thought stupid by your opposition. More inarticulate grunts and puzzled head scratching, please.
It might help if we pick fleas from each other's hair, as well.
placed a black man with an unorthodox life story in the Oval Office.
Dad and Mom divorced. Dad re-marries and never sees the kid again. Mom re-marries, drags the kid off to New Daddy's home. After a few years, kid gets shuffled back to his grandmother.
This isn't unorthodox - every family tree has branches that do this. It's a very American kind of upbringing, if you strip the proper nouns out of the story.
My buddies are there now and sent me some pics from the Jim Beam distillery yesterday...bastards! Also, if you see Dr. Ted in his distinctive red/white/blue striped shirt tell him I said hello. You can't miss him, he'll be periodically running the equivalent of my weekly paycheck through his minigun...
He did some pretty good research there.
Who knew that the sunset of the AWB made it legal to sell machineguns willy nilly?
Did it repeal the NFA?
Or just the Hughes Amendment to the PoFA, letting in post-86 manufacture for civilian transfer?
Or is it just that he had no idea that it was always legal to sell machineguns, with the right paperwork?
*%$#&^ I live in flippin Kentucky, and every time Knob Creek rolls around I'm broke....
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