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A good craicNothing of consequence was accomplished today but that your humble scribe, his number one son and son number one’s best mate from high school years – a citizen of Eire, come hither for the holidays for to escape the falling damps Dublin-way – went a-shooting at the range. Hizzoner not having had our advantages was eased into the employment of weapons short and long. Safety instructions and range rules. The .22 caliber Beretta Neos is a lovely little thing that will only just barely kill the incautious shooter graveyard dead. It was a good start to a grand afternoon. After that we shot my oldest rifle, an autoloading Sears .22 long rifle purchased for my 15th birthday oh-so-long-ago, and equipped with a four power scope. The combination led us in time towards an H&K USP .45 and an M-1A rifle in .308 Winchester. All the world did stop and listen when the latter barked. Loudly. There was a lovely young lady there as well, alongside of us. With a pert brown pony tail, Kevlar vest, fast draw holster and speed loading rig. The handcuff holder at her six o’clock assured me that she was a law enforcement agent. Or else the kinkiest woman I’d ever laid eyes on. Either one. Or both. And at the end of the day, does it really matter? So. A right good time was had by all. Which leads me into this learned discussion of the 2nd Amendment to the US Constitution. And whether or not it applies to “the people” or to “the militia.” Whatever that might be. There are many wise people there capable of buttressing one’s personal preferences. This one supports mine:
Just remember that when it comes to protecting your individual right to life – the most profound right, upon which all others depend – the constabulary can only obliquely contribute. They are not designed to prevent your murder, only to punish it. When the bad man comes, and seconds count, they will be only minutes away. Here endeth the lesson. |
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