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Sunday, August 06, 2006

Bleeding Heart Socialist Embraces Second Amendment!

"YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-HAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!" Why, there's gonna be some shootin' an' some funnin' goin' on over at that thar Minn-e-an-a-po-less newspaper, 'da "Red Star Tribune", yessireeeeee! YEEEEEEE-HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAW" (BANG, BANG!)

Red Star Uber-UBER Bleeding Heart-Liberal-Terrorist/Criminal Sympathizer, rambling columnist Nikolai "Nick" Coleman done gone an' got himself one-a them permits to carry a concealed handgun. Story HERE or via HERE, titled: "A Reluctant Gunslinger feels the gravity of his new permit to pack."

Actually, it's more like Barney Fife Accidentally Shoots Self In Ass.

    I thought it might be amusing to obtain a permit to carry a handgun, and to write about it on a slow summer news day. But now that I've done it, I'm afraid it doesn't seem so amusing anymore.

    Yes, friend, that's a gun permit in my pocket. And on my shoulders? That's the weight of responsibility. No fun at all.

    I have a love-hate thing with guns, but I am not one of those people who think all our problems will end if we melt all the guns into bad sculptures that can be erected as monuments to the politicians who commissioned them. When I was a kid, my dad (who shot a lot of crows while working on a highway crew in northern Minnesota) gave me a single-shot .22 caliber rifle perfect for shooting cans and bottles at the dump. My high school had a rifle range, and, later, I ambushed deer that I made into sausage.

    But guns on the street are not recreational.(1) When I drove to Robbinsdale to take a gun permit class at Bill's Gun Shop, I navigated through north Minneapolis, passing a corner where I had seen a murder victim on the sidewalk a few months earlier, as well as a day-care center where bullets have come through the windows. Bad guys have lots of guns. Letting the good guys carry them, too, makes sense. But I hate that it has come to this.

    My instructor was an affable Army sergeant named Dave Whaley, who took me through the basics of gun safety and put me through my paces on the range, having me shoot a variety of calibers and models. In the classroom, he walked me through the law and explained the Color Codes of Awareness.

    Usually, he said, we exist in Condition White, oblivious of our surroundings and unconcerned for our safety. In Conditions Yellow and Orange, we become increasingly aware that something is wrong and danger is present. In Condition Red, we are ready for fight or flight. And if we have a gun permit, we are ready to shoot.

    But only as a last resort. Sgt. Whaley told me that the smart thing is recognizing and avoiding trouble, not confronting it.

    "Learning to shoot is not hard," Sgt. Whaley told me. "This is not about shooting. It's about self-protection. It's about avoiding situations."

    Because "situations" come with consequences. This is hard stuff: Are you willing to use deadly force and to live with the ramifications of killing another person, even in self-defense? Not everyone can answer yes. When I reached that point of the training, I almost dropped out. But I didn't.

    State law (statute 609.065) says taking a life is justifiable when "necessary" to prevent "great bodily harm or death" from being inflicted. I have family I would protect at any cost. I can say yes.

    But you have a duty to retreat from danger, if possible. You have to avoid voluntarily entering into confrontations. You need to choose non-lethal options, if available. And the threat must be immediate and carry the likelihood of death or great bodily harm.

    It boils down to this: "If possible, don't use a gun. Run."

    We got down to the nitty-gritty: To carry a handgun, you must show you can shoot one.

    You must shoot 50 rounds at a silhouette of a bad guy (2), receiving five points for each shot in the kill zone. Twenty shots are taken at a distance of 15 feet from the target, 20 shots from 25 feet, and 10 from 50 feet. Ten shots also must be fired one-handed, and, at each distance, you must re-load after five shots and fire five more within 60 seconds.

    I scored 236 out of 250 -- 94 percent. A passing grade is 70 percent. My mom could do it.

    I had passed the Concealed Carry Course. I went to my county sheriff's office on a Thursday, filled out an application for a gun permit and wrote a check for $100. By law, a sheriff has 30 days to approve or deny an application. My permit came in the mail the next Friday.

    Lock and load.

    I still have some choices to make. Should I get a revolver or a pistol? A 9-millimeter, or a .38 Special that loads .357 Magnum rounds, for greater stopping power? I haven't made up my mind. But I'm not in a hurry. My wife might shoot me if I bring home a gun.

    She has memorized the statistics about gun owners being more likely to shoot a family member than defend one, and she knows all about the legal guns that get stolen and end up being used in crimes. She really hates guns. And she's an excellent shot.

    She's been to gun school, too.

Item (1): Nick, you are so brilliant. Only someone with a superior intellect and an Ivory Tower mind such as yours could have come up with a line like, "Guns on the street are not recreational." REALLY? Are you sure about that? I may need to see some studies that support that.

Item (2): "You must shoot 50 rounds at a silhouette of a bad guy." You must feel pretty badly about that. Did you find the silhouette offensive? Maybe it was too specific of a gender, race, color, or minority for you? Maybe there was a Christian silhouette that you were able to use as a target, one that didn't make you feel guilty? Yeah, I'll bet. Maybe a silhouette-target of a fetus for a staunch abortionist like yourself? Oh...the humanity....

So the Fervent Little Socialist, the Bald-Headed Komrade Coleman, can now carry and conceal.

It's only a matter of time until the offices at the Red Star turn into The Wild, Wild West, ain't it?


I have a better slogan:

Save a Buck, Shoot the Fuck
why not!
Sometimes they tell the truth in their story.
And identify the root of their problem.

Actualy I'm surprized no one has pointed the quote out yet.

So I will.

"Yes, friend, that's a gun permit in my pocket. And on my shoulders? That's the weight of responsibility. No fun at all."

The gun can be safely and knowledgably handled. His reported score shows that.
But the 'Responsability?' THAT'S where he has a problem!
You make an excellent point in selecting his words and him possibly not being able to handle/accept/deal with the responsibility. Nothing scares me more than a law and order liberal or a liberal with a gun. Yikes!

Thanks for stopping by SteamD!
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