We can’t even stop to speak with decency and sympathy for the horrible losses because to speak at all is to become political. And that’s obscene.
Mass murders, whether by bomb or knife or vehicle or poison, are horrific individual tragedies. But mass murders by firearm result in a dreary sameness.
Except this time.
This time, instead of merely hissing about “common sense gun control,” instead of the bad old lie that “nobody wants to take your guns, you paranoid crazy,” the media elite now openly call for repeal of the Second Amendment and/or confiscation of firearms. They’re following their Glorious Leader, who rushed to the podium before the blood had even ceased flowing to demand that we should “do an Australia” to rid the nation of guns.
As Nicki Kenyon wrote, at least they’re finally being honest.
Wishing for the impossible, as usual, but finally stating what they really want.
Better people than I have said just what those elitist dreams would entail. Charles C. W. Cooke (who’s written some of the best responses on this)invited the 2A repealers to start a movement.
Which of course they’re not going to do. Because that takes more effort than writing an op-ed or issuing an executive order.
And of course, they never, ever, ever think their way to the bottom line — that they intend to sit safely in their New York or Washington or Los Angeles offices while tens of thousands of working-class grunts — heavily armed and armored working-class grunts, but still — attempt to confiscate everyone’s weapons.
That image is too messy to fit in their utopia, of course. Anyhow, it would take years to get to point where the fedgov or state governments were ready to get that “non-violent.”
Meantime, I have a suggestion for those who want the guns gone.
This is for you, elitist scribblers.
Here’s an invitation. Shut the hell up and come and take them. You can start at my house.
I’m getting kind of old now — well, oldish — and I don’t have the fire I used to. I just want to live a peaceful life in a peaceful place. I don’t care to get roused over every new crisis. I don’t like to fight. So I should be an easy target. Come to my house. Come and take my guns. See how it goes.
I had good training in handling firearms, but I don’t practice as much as I should and I’m really not very ready for this. Again, this makes my house an easy place to start your confiscation campaign. Come and take them.
I’m not some big muscle guy. I’m a skinny woman. Again. Easy. Come and take them.
I’m not a member of the big, bad NRA — you know, the monsters that are single-handedly responsible for making “gun violence” possible. Surely I’ll surrender easily, then. Come and take them.
Though politically radical by your standards, I’m not a wild-eyed fanatic hiding out in a bunker in one of those infamous “compounds.” I’m just a regular woman who shares cookies and soup with the neighbors and chats with the clerks down at the post office about their bad backs and the lastest town news. Absolutely nobody who knows me imagines I’m any sort of danger to them or anybody else. But I own guns. So come and take them.
I have dogs, but they’re both old and friendly. So they shouldn’t get in your way. Anyhow, it’s just become routine these days for enforcers to shoot the family pets. So no, the dogs should be no obstacle to confiscating my firearms. Come and take them.
Although it’s not really possible to be a law-abiding citizen in this age when each of us routinely commits three felonies a day without knowing it, I do try. I try to be a good neighbor, a good person, and a good citizen. So really, what do you have to fear from me? I’m your perfect test case. Come and take them.
I’d like to live another 20 years — 30 would be better — but I’ve lived a full life and to die now, whether at the hand of a freelance criminal or a tyrant, wouldn’t be any great tragedy. So come and take them.
Really. See how it goes with one weak, skinny, peaceable woman who wishes no harm to anyone. Come and take them. I invite you.
See how that goes. Then times that by 100,000,000.