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Gun control? We need liberal control!

The vast amount of carnage in the recent news has been carried out by liberals.

This week’s Devin Kelley was an evangelist of atheism, an angry liberal with a history of violence against people who disagreed with him. His dishonorable discharge from the US Air Force automatically DQ’d him from owning any firearms, not to mention his long list of violent infractions that led to his discharge. Somehow the Air Force botched the transmission of that lengthy record when they jettisoned him from the service, and he was able to illegally acquire firearms.

It’s still illegal to murder people, of course, which did not stop him from breaking that and many other laws.

Last week we had another product of liberalism, the Uzbek jihadi Saipov, who remains happily proud of his running down a bunch of innocent bike riders and children with his rented Home Depot truck. The most un-assimilated Saipov got into the US on a liberal visa scheme called the “Diversity Visa Lottery.”

America does not need more of this kind of false diversity, where people who actually hate America are cultivated and recruited to come and live here, without any demonstration that they want to actually live like Americans.

But we know liberals: “Diversity” at any cost, even the cost of run-over children at school.

The truth is this liberal version of diversity is about artificially inflating the voter rolls of ONE POLITICAL PARTY. It is why liberals want amnesty for illegal aliens, too.

Before Saipov we had hardcore leftist Steve Paddock shooting up the country music concert in Los Vegas, targeting his natural enemies: Heartland Americans who vote the ‘wrong’ way.

Paddock was photographed wearing the embarrassingly stupid “pussy” hat at anti-Trump rallies, and he was surrounded by ANTIFA loons.

Before that we had far-left union goon James Hodgkinson shooting up a softball game attended by Republican congressmen in the Washington, DC area.

Setting aside the jihadist Saipov, who was actually recruited to America by liberals, because liberals define cultural diversity to include people who violently hate America, all these other mass murderers are liberals.

Each of them had his own personal reason for attacking normal Americans, but the driving force behind their mass murdering is an angry, defiant liberalism being taught at universities and repeated through the mainstream media.

These mass murders are a form of liberal “resistance” that renounces America as it was founded, and which justifies hate and violence against people who hold ‘incorrect’ political views.

So long as angry, violent liberalism is allowed to be conveyed through universities and the media, these attacks will continue.

America does not need more gun control. There was not a single new law that would have prevented any of these mass murders.

What America does need is liberal control.

This could begin with liberals reflecting on their own hatred, the anger they cultivate against people who merely disagree with them on political issues, and controlling it, instead of justifying it.

Liberal groups like CeaseFirePA, which promote totalitarian big brother government control of us citizens, and which blame the victims of liberal shootings. Note they never hold account the white liberals who oversee mass murder and mass destruction in mostly black inner city communities. Thousands of young black men annually kill one another with handguns in liberal-run cities, but it is not an issue to groups like CeaseFirePA.

Truth is, they need that carnage to continue to blame their political opponents and to call for more gun control.

Liberal control could also include normal Americans taking back their universities from the leftwing loons who preach and justify violence against their political opponents (recall University of Missouri professor Melissa Click?). A good place to start is the termination of tenure, which artificially shields these violent liberal crazies from being held accountable.

Liberal control, it’s what is next up on the American agenda.

Vegas: Death by Liberal & Liberalism

Trendy vacation get-away Vegas is now known as America’s biggest murder scene, thanks to mass murderer Steve Paddock, who  from his 32nd floor hotel room rained down thousands of bullets upon about 22,000 country music fans gathered closely together to listen to Jason Aldean and other top entertainers.

With so many people so closely packed into one spot, Paddock was shooting the proverbial fish in the barrel. Like union thug James Hodgkinson, who hunted down and shot Republican lawmakers playing softball this summer. And like the ISIS Bataclan murderers last year, except that they then walked through the wounded and the dying, methodically torturing, maiming, and executing those who still moved, just to put an exclamation point on their handiwork.

One American political party has developed a nasty habit of exploiting for political gain those events that are most painful to Americans. Natural disasters like hurricanes, tornadoes, even heavy snowfalls are used to jack up and advance a “climate change” cause that just also happens to be mostly about wealth centralization and redistribution. That is Marxism 101 for those of you not reading between the lines here. These are cheap shots, cheap points, at the expense of those who suffer.

That political party has also exploited both individual and mass murders to advance the disarming of the American People through “gun control,” which is never crime control, just people control.

There are exceptions, however.

If an illegal invader (“illegal alien”) commits murder with a gun, then that is excused by that political party, because the purported victim status of the murderer both exonerates him from his crime, and also supersedes in importance any other political goal.

That is because illegal invaders are the key to this American political party’s quest for voter dominance and full political control of the nation. If those 15,000,000 to 20,000,000 people can be turned into one-party voters, and concentrated in major urban areas as well as previously conservative rural areas, then that political party will reap the rewards. Thus the support for illegal invader murderers.

Or, if that political party has long run a city like Chicago, Detroit, Philadelphia, Los Angeles, or New York, to name a few, where violent crimes with guns, especially young black men murdering one another by the dozen each week or month, are very high, then that will not be reported by the mainstream media, or addressed by that political party. Nor will it be discussed by “experts,” or written about in newspaper op-ed columns. Because that would mean criticizing only that one political party, the responsible party.

That is unacceptable to that political party, so the cultural carnage continues, and that political party continues to call it firearm carnage, backed by the NRA, Republicans, etc etc etc.

What a huge diversion that is, a huge head fake. Well, it is fake, the opposite of the truth.

Back to Steve Paddock.

In his private life, Paddock was surrounded by far-Left, hard-Left street “activists” and violent thugs. ANTIFA, BLM folks. These people were his closest friends, and apparently also his lovers. True, it doesn’t square with his middle-America, middle-income nice white guy appearance. But as we know, appearances can be misleading.

James Hodgkinson and a multitude of other violent white Liberals in the news demonstrate that domestic terrorists can hide in plain sight.

So here we have a man dabbling in far-Left politics who grabs a pile O’ guns and ammo, and implements a fantastically complicated plan for mass murder of likely conservative Americans (the same victims that CBS News executive Haley Geftman-Gold said she was unsympathetic for yesterday, because they were likely conservative gun owners and Trump voters) (until Liberals openly repudiate her remarks, I believe Haley Geftman-Gold is representative of and speaks accurately for most liberals).

Never mind that right before the shooting, one or two women were escorted from the concert front row for telling people there that they “were all going to die tonight.” Other than planning, it seems Paddock also had a lot of logistical help in the hotel. Sneaking in and setting up all those guns and ammo, in two hotel rooms, is not a job for one guy.

Who helped him plan? Who helped him set up? Who were these disruptive, threatening women who witnesses asked police to take away from the concert?

My big take-away from this crushingly sad event is that Liberals have struck a brilliant one-two punch on America.

First, through their mainstream media arm, their entertainment media arm, and their academia arm they created a publicly hostile, violent atmosphere surrounding their political opponents, and the (“white privilege” etc) justification for that atmosphere. This is the same atmosphere where people like Paddock, Hodgkinson, and Floyd Corkins, who shot people at the Family Research Council’s DC office, as well as the regular rent-a-mob ANTIFA, Occupy Wall Street, Black Lives Matter thugs, can all freely operate.

These thugs attack, hurt, intimidate, or kill the political opponents of Liberals.

Then, when the blood is in the streets, Liberals also get to blame their political opponents AND demand gun control!

And gun control really means gun confiscation, which many Democrats are now openly admitting, which means the disarmament of The People.

Armed, We The People are an insurmountable barrier to the un-American big government control that the subject political party constantly advances. Disarmed, we are destined to become the serfs the liberals dream of having under their loving thumb.

It is truly brilliant to create the problem, and then loudly demand the solution that best fits your political agenda through hundreds of elite mouthpieces, while simultaneously destroying your opposition.

With that approach, how can Liberals lose?

Remembering neat people, Part 1

A lot of neat, interesting people have died in the past year or two, or ten, if I think about it, but time flies faster than we can catch it or even snatch special moments from it. People I either knew or admired from afar who changed me in some way.

There are two men who influenced me in small but substantial ways who I have been thinking about in recent days. One of them died exactly ten years ago, and the other died just last year. Funny how I keep thinking about them.

It is time to honor them as best I can, in words.

First one was Charlie Haffner, a grizzled mountain man from central Tennessee. Charlie and I first crossed paths in 1989, when I joined the Owl Hollow Shooting Club about 45 minutes south of Nashville, where I was a graduate student at the time.

Charlie owned that shooting club.

Back before GPS, internet, or cell phones, the world was a different place than today. Dinosaurs were probably wandering around among us then, mmm hmmmmm. Heck, maybe I am a dinosaur. Anyhow, in order to find my way to the Owl Hollow club, first and foremost I had to get the club’s phone number, which I obtained from a fly fishing shop on West End Avenue. Then I had to call Charlie for directions, using a l-a-n-d l-i-n-e, and actually speaking to a person at the other end. You’d think it was Morse Code by today’s standards.

After getting Charlie on the phone, and assiduously writing down his directions from our phone conversation, I had to use the best map I could get and then drive way out in the Tennessee countryside on gravel and dirt roads. Trusting my directional instincts, which are good, and trusting the maps, which were pretty bad, and using Charlie’s directions, which were exactingly precise, I made my way through an alien landscape of small tobacco farms and Confederate flags waving from flagpoles. Yes, southcentral Tennessee back then, and maybe even today, was still living in 1865. Not an American flag to be seen out there by itself. If one appeared, it was either directly above, or, more commonly, directly below the Confederate flag. The Confederate flag shared equal or nearly equal footing with the American flag throughout that region.

Needless to say, when I had finally arrived at the big, quiet, lonesome gun range in the middle of the Tennessee back country, the fact that I played the banjo and was as redneck as redneck gets back home didn’t mean a thing right then. Buddy, I was feelin’…. Yankee, like…well, like black people once probably felt entering into a room full of Caucasians. I felt all alone out there and downright uncomfortable. And to boot, I was looking for a mountain man with a deeeeep Southern drawl, so it was bound to get better. Right?

Sure enough, I saw Charlie’s historic square-cut log cabin up the hill, and I walked up to it. Problem was, it had a door on every outside wall, so that when I knocked on one, and heard voices inside, and then heard “Over here!” coming from outside, I’d walk around to the next door, which was closed, and I would knock again, and go through the process again, and again. Yes, I knocked on three or four of those mystery doors before Charlie Haffner finally stepped out of yet one more doorway, into the sunshine, and greeted me in the most friendly and welcoming manner.

Bib overalls were meant to be worn by men like Charlie, and Charlie was meant to wear bib overalls, and I think that’s all he had on. His long, white Father Time beard flowed down and across his chest, and his long, flowing white hair was thick and distinguished like a Southern gentleman’s hair would have to be. And sure as shootin’, a flintlock pistol was tucked into the top of those bib overalls. I am not normally a shy person, and I normally enjoy trying to get the first words in on any conversation, with some humor if I can think of it fast enough. But the truth is, I was dumbfounded and just stood there in awe of the sight before me.

Being a Damned Yankee, I half expected to be shot dead on sight. But what followed is a legendary story re-told many times in my own family, as Charlie (and his kindly wife, who also had a twinkle in her eye) welcomed me into his home in the most gracious, witty, and insightful way possible.

Over the following two years, I shot as much as a full-time graduate student could shoot out there at Owl Hollow Gun Club, which is to say not as much as I wanted and probably more than I should have. Although my first interest in guns as a kid had been black powder muzzleloaders, and I had received a percussion cap .45 caliber Philadelphia derringer as a gift when I was ten, I had not really spent much time around flintlocks. Charlie rekindled that flame in me there, and it has burned ever since, as it has for tens of thousands of other people who were similarly shaped by Charlie’s re-introduction of flintlock shooting matches back in the early 1970s, there at Owl Hollow Gun Club.

Charlie died ten years ago, on July 10th, I think, and I have thought about him often ever since: His incredible warmth and humor, his amazing insights for a mountain man with little evident exposure to the outside world (now don’t go getting prejudiced about mountain folk; he and many others are plenty worldly, even if they don’t APPEAR to be so), his tolerance of differences and willingness to break with orthodoxy to make someone feel most welcome. Hollywood has done a bad number on the Southern Man image, and maybe some of that negative stereotype is deserved, but Charlie Haffner was a true Southern gentleman in every way, and I was proud to know him, to be shaped by him.

The other man who has been on my mind is Russell Means, a Pine Ridge Sioux, award-winning actor, and Indian rights activist who caught my attention in the early 1970s, and most especially as a spokesman for tribal members holed up out there after shooting it out with FBI gunslingers.

American Indians always have a respected place in the heart of true Americans, and anyone who grew up playing cowboys and Indians knows that sometimes there were bad cowboys who got their due from some righteous red men. Among little kids fifty years ago, the Indians were always tough, and sometimes they were tougher and better than the white guys. From my generation, a lot of guys carry around a little bit of wahoo Indian inside our hearts; we’d still like to think we are part Indian; it would make us better, more real Americans…

Russell Means was a good looking man, very manly and tough, and he was outspoken about the unfair depredations his people had experienced. While Means was called a radical forty years ago, I think any proud Irishman or Scottish Highlander could easily relate to his complaints, if they or their descendants stop to think about how Britain had (and still does) dispossessed and displaced them.

Russell Means played a key role in an important movie, The Last of the Mohicans. His stoic, rugged demeanor wasn’t faked, and he was so authentic in appearance and action that he easily lent palpable credibility to that artistic portrayal of 1750s frontier America by simply showing up and being there on the set. Means could have easily been the guy on the original buffalo nickel; that is how authentic he was.

Russell Means was representative of an older, better way of life that is disappearing on the Indian reservations, if that makes any sense to those who think of the Indian lifestyle that passed away as involving horses and headdresses. He was truly one of the last of the Mohicans, for all the native tribes. Although I never met you, I still miss you, and your voice, Mr. Means.

[Written 7/23/14]