I have looked down the barrel of many a gun and not because I was cleaning them or suicidal. Many people over the course of my life have felt the necessity to point fully loaded and cocked guns at me, to my good fortune none have had the occasion to shoot them – so far. Having grown up around guns with a full operational knowledge of them, I have always had the wisdom to do what those pointing them at me instructed.
I know how dangerous guns are – I have killed with them. I have seen the detached simplicity with which they can be used to dispatch that targeted, well understand the righteous glee with which we promote them and moral indignation with which we repudiate them. The USA is a nation conquered with guns (and lots of germs). Our Constitution was amended to include them as a fundamental right of citizenship. There are hundreds of millions of them on the North American continent.
Like it or not, they are here to stay.
I learned early about gun use in a defensive capacity. At the dawning of the glorious Reagan era, much vaunted by those with memories not dissimilar to his at the end, I had the occasion to attend a birthday party for my brother in lovely Concord, California. In attendance along with several adults and children was a woman with man troubles. She attended the festivities with a paramour not her boyfriend who apparently felt very protective of her. (This I found out after the fact.)
As the party progressed, there came a tapping, officers there came a rapping, partiers fairly crapping, rapping on my brother’s door. They came forth, two of them, to alert us that the now departed woman’s thoroughly deranged boyfriend had called the police and warned them that he was headed our way, drunk and armed with mayhem in mind. We thanked the police for offering their protection.
They explained that in this case they were only messengers; that they did not function in a protective capacity. But they did say that if he showed up to give them a call and they’d come back around. Then they left.
Let this sink in: the police, a uniformed armed contingent tasked with the enforcement of the law, are informed in advance that a crime is to be committed – not a robbery or vandalization but a capital homicide. They dedicate two officers to warn an apartment full of men, women and children that a drunken, rage-fueled predator is headed their way, but don’t have them stick around to protect or defend. What were we to do? Use the phone.
About a half an hour after the police left, the crazed fellow showed up. We used the phone. He started kicking on the front door of the apartment, shouting insanely. The police assured us they were on the way. He kicked the door again, bellowing loudly. The door was steel plated and had to hurt like hell as he battered it, howling in anger.
The women and children were herded into the back bedroom, out of any direct line of fire. My brother took position directly facing the door, I off to his side. The door shuddered as the intruder kicked and kicked it. My brother pointed his cocked Smith & Wesson Model 19, 357 magnum at the door and our breathing became halted, senses tense and ready.
Bam! The door burst open and the crazed jerk stormed right at my brother, one hand in his pocket. No gun visible, my brother pulled his pistol back and pointed it toward the ceiling. Shouting, menacing, threatening, then the hand comes out of his pocket and he grabs for my brother’s gun. My brother shoots him in the gut. He stands there, no flying across the room in a hail of slo mo blood, no violent twisting and wrenching to the floor – he just stood there.
Stunned, his rage now shock, he stumbled toward the door. We knew better than that and sat him down. If he was found shot outside of the residence, then my brother could be charged. The first rounds in my brother’s revolver were loaded with 38 shot loads, which are like little mini shotguns for one’s pistol. More projectiles with less penetration, the single shot cost anger-boy about 15 feet of his intestines when all was said and done.
Within five minutes of the end of the confrontation the police arrived. Ready to kill, 8 to 10 of them swarmed the tiny apartment pointing their pistols in each of our faces. My brother was handcuffed and taken in; jerko was taken to the hospital to enjoy the true costs of his drinking problem. The remainder of our evening was spent working to extricate my brother from police custody for defending his home from an invader they had warned him about, which we finally accomplished by morning.
In the 10 minutes it took for the police to return, had jerko come armed and had we no defensive capacity, he would have had sufficient time to kill us all. The phone would not have thwarted his anger. All because he got drunk and jealous. The police confirmed for me again in that instance the vital importance each of us faces in defending ourselves and our loved ones. There is no external force (unless you can afford one) that will care for you or me, so we must do it ourselves.
The police as the military are offensive forces, not defensive. It is simple reason which dictates this: a thousand people cannot protect a hundred thousand people; ten thousand cannot protect ten million. Our protection and defense must come from ourselves as must the protection and defense of others. The police have no legal mandate to protect us nor does the government.
Most people behave responsibly with guns – as there are upwards of a hundred million gun toting citizens of the USA, this is borne out by the very lack of bloodbath we are supposedly basking in. Police officers kill people for taking drugs, kill them for mouthing off, kill them for running away.
Most gun violence is alcohol or drug related as most drug crimes are prohibition related. Eliminate prohibition and drug crimes will decrease, meaning less gun violence. Prosecute anyone who uses a weapon egregiously, especially those under color of authority, and violent offenses will diminish.
Outlaw guns and create one more unenforceable prohibition that will only further entrench the police state and further widen the division between law enforcement and those subject to its excesses. Defend yourself or remain defenseless.
The conquered here, owe.
© 2013 simmbiosis 3/30/13