//
you're reading...
Uncategorized

My Cold Dead Hands

This man, and the 2nd Amendment, are the only thing standing between you and hordes of scary black and brown men (starting with that socialist in the White House).

This man, and the 2nd Amendment, are the only thing standing between you and hordes of scary black and brown men (starting with that socialist in the White House).

I am so mad that Dictator Cuomo wants us to register our guns! I know, it’s not confiscation, but it’s a slippery slope. Next he’ll be telling us to register our cars. And universal background checks!? What tyranny! First guns, then we’ll need background and credit checks to rent an apartment or get a home mortgage.

I don’t care if Cuomo says he isn’t after hunters. The Second Amendment isn’t about hunting. It’s about defending ourselves against government tyranny, just like the Revolutionary War heroes did. Some say the same Constitution that gives us the glorious right to bear arms also bans treason in Article III Section 3, but is it really treason when you have an illegitimate government? Was it treason when the South revolted against Lincoln in defense of states’ rights and their capitalist plantation economy? Is it treasonous to arm yourself in preparation when the presidency is hijacked by a Kenyan Muslim socialist usurper? If Obama doesn’t need to show his birth certificate, why do I need to register my gun?

It’s a scary world out there. If Obama’s Manchurian government doesn’t come for my guns, invading Latin American drug gangs, as Lord LaPierre eloquently puts it, and other marauding thugs will. American hero Cliven Bundy, busy using his Second Amendment freedom on federal land in Nevada to ward off government tyranny, poignantly philosophized recently about African Americans, or in his words, “the Negro.” “They abort their young children; they put their young men in jail, because they never learned to pick cotton.” Were they better off as slaves or on government subsidy? Bundy doesn’t know.

But we all know it’s not 1850 anymore. African Americans are not picking cotton from the safe confines of the slave plantation. It’s not 1950, either. Black people are not safely on the back of the Jim Crow bus. They are out there, on the streets, not picking cotton, using our hard-earned dollars as welfare money, selling drugs to our kids behind Crime Dog McGruff’s back, wearing hoodies, carrying Skittles, and forming gangs. Since Obama won’t defend the border, they join Latinos to rove in those marauding packs of Lord LaPierre’s fevered imagination.

Regulating guns in Obama’s scary America will only hurt good, law-abiding citizens, because the bad guys won’t care. Yes, I know, “Criminals won’t obey the law, so let’s have no law at all,” is an argument that could logically be drawn out to oppose literally any law ever. But I don’t need laws. I have my guns!

Lord LaPierre is right. The only thing stopping a bad guy with a gun is a good guy with a gun. Thanks to the magic of movies, I know a gun will give me the power to dodge endless rounds of bad guy bullets as I athletically run and jump in one motion, pull out my revolver, and fire a perfect shot into the forehead of the lead villain, forever interrupting his mustache twirl.

Guns do not kill people, people kill people. With guns. Or a pencil, like the Joker used. If I can kill someone with an object not made for killing, what’s the point of regulating a much more dangerous object that was actually invented for killing? Without gun rights, George Zimmerman may never have become the American freedom fighter we all know and love.

The Almighty Gun helped us take America from the Indians. It helped us snatch Texas from Mexico so we could keep our American freedom to own slaves. After Sandy Hook, Garry Wills, writing in The New York Review of Books, called guns our Moloch. No, the gun is no false god; the gun is our true God Almighty, our Holy Spirit. The American gun proceeds from the Father and the Son, full “Filioque” style. Take that, Orthodox Church, and if you dont’ like it, you can pry it from our cold, dead American hands after we all shoot each other.

About keithstache

I'm Keith Hernandez's mustache. And you're not. I like bad baseball teams and good beer.

Discussion

No comments yet.

Leave a comment

Archives