A Meditation on Guns, in 2012

Off the Keyboard of William Hunter Duncan

Discuss this article at the Epicurean Delights Smorgasboard of the Diner

I think I first shot a gun when I was about six or seven. My father was an avid hunter, hence my name, and he believed it was a healthy thing to put a gun in a young boy’s hands, early. It was a lever action, compressed air pellet gun. I shot aluminum cans first, and then moved onto birds, squirrels and chipmunks. I think I might have killed a robin before I knew it wasn’t a good thing to kill a robin. I was told to kill black birds, or grackles, because they were supposedly predators of songbirds (I didn’t know at the time, the three leading causes of death for songbirds are pesticides, cats and automobiles – and that being black in America is to have all sorts of things projected onto you.) Mostly, with birds, I killed the ubiquitous English sparrow, perhaps as a kind of subconscious legacy of the revolution, but mostly because they were a constant invader of our martin bird house. The chipmunks chewed holes in the sides of our house. There were a few squirrels, which were more like taking big game, for a young child.

 

It wasn’t like I was an exterminator. I was just hunting, patiently; the death toll never impacted the local population in any noticeable way. It was more like feeding something natural in me, something inherent to my being, not the killing so much as the hunting. Even then, I did a good deal more playing than killing, and it wasn’t long before I grew tired of killing, and graduated to hunting frogs, snakes and turtles with my hands, to capture and cage, while I treated them like pets, before I would eventually let them go. That began when I was about eight, and continued until I was maybe 11. I still shot the pellet gun, most often in the fall when I would go duck hunting with my father. I would wander around the land we hunted, trying to sneak up on ducks that were close to shore. Once, I was convinced I killed one, or wounded it, before my dog rushed into the water and retrieved it alive, and I wrung it’s neck. Looking back, the duck, a blue wing teal, was probably injured previously, by somebody else’s shotgun.

 

At about 12, I graduated to a single shot 20 gauge shotgun. When I was thirteen, I shot 28 shells that duck hunting season, and killed 27 ducks. When I was fourteen, I graduated to a pump, 3-shot, 20 gauge shotgun, and never shot that well again.

 

At thirteen, I also graduated to a 30-30 rifle, an old lever action, for deer hunting. I didn’t see a deer that first year, but that second year I shot a little spike buck, and an old matriarch of a doe. Every year after, for about a decade, I killed a deer, or more than one. I duck hunted throughout high school as well, and a little in college, but gave that up about the time I realized ducks mated for life. I kept deer hunting, more for the meat, but by the time I was 30, I had given that up too.

 

I haven’t shot a gun in almost a decade now. I took a kind of pledge against it. I had become so sick of the work of firearm wielding men and boys in this world, I gave it up, out of revulsion. My first year managing a Halloween store, unable to convince the owners not to sell the mock uzis, M-16 and AK-47 with their little kid packaging, I stayed late one night, disassembled said guns from their packaging, and built a six-foot machine gun monster, propping it up on an elevated stand in the middle of the showroom floor. I hung the little kid packaging from the tips of the M-16 arms. (I wrote about that in my second book, Green Man, in the chapter called “Blackheart”.) No one got my point, about Blackheart, in the store. To them, our consumer shoppers, it was a display, not Art.

 

There has been a kind of evolution in my thinking on guns, in 2012. Lets review: The Department of Homeland Security purchased 450 MILLION rounds of .40 cal Hollow Point bullets, a few thousand hardened, bullet proof checkpoints, and boatloads of potassium iodide pills to protect the thyroid from nuclear fallout (for DHS, not the people). The Military is flooding local police departments with decommissioned weapons from Iraq and Afghanistan. Drones in our skies, authorized by the president. A 100,000 sq ft computer being built in Utah, to spy on American’s digital communications. The recent Executive Order authorizing the President to take over all communications outlets in the country, via the military and homeland security. The National Defense Authorization Act, that allows for indefinite detention, military martial law, and the takeover of all food supplies, public and private. The President’s TPP trade deal that would allow multi-national corporations to operate in America but not be answerable to any American law or court. Our president sits down every Tuesday and decides who he is going to kill with drone strikes, about 3,000 so far, about half civilians – effectively saying he has Absolute Power to kill whoever he decides, and he doesn’t have to tell anyone the details, unless he thinks it will benefit him politically. There are rumors of a major False Flag operation planned, to initiate global control. There are people already eating people, and there hasn’t even been any kind of disruption in supply chains yet, which would be the case if there is a global financial meltdown.

 

I’ve been thinking lately, I wouldn’t mind at all, a serviceable handgun, a riot gun (.12 gauge shotgun) and an AR-15, the civilian semi-automatic equivalent of the military issue automatic M-16. In case of zombie cannibals, of course. In that particular case, should it arise, I would not hesitate. Looters too. And that includes police and military, if their intent is to pillage.

 

It’s not even a half-hearted desire, really. I would be more than happy never to fire another gun the rest of my remaining 30 years or so, Goddess willing. My government would be happy with that too, except they are arming themselves to the hilt, in pursuit of total control apparently. That is called the pursuit of the monopoly on power, which is every power monger and bureaucrat’s wet dream – they can’t help themselves, it’s in the nature of the institutions they inhabit. The UN is currently hashing out a global small arms treaty, which purports to be an attempt to prevent the transfer of hand-held guns across international borders; but really, it’s an attempt to restrict the manufacture of such guns, and the registry of all those existing, so that the bureaucrat knows exactly who owns what – while said bureaucrats pursue their monopoly on power. They voted on it on the day of the opening ceremony of the Olympics, of course, while the world was distracted. The only person in America to my knowledge who even reported on the vote before the vote was the conspiratorialist Alex Jones (all the legit sources I consulted said there was no such vote planned.) Thankfully the US did not ratify it, or there would have been a real possibility of bloody revolt in this country.

 

It’s as if Americans have no history. As if we think no government anywhere ever abused it’s people. As if men have not been attempting to rule over their fellow men for 5,000 years at least. What was it like when the working man in American cities didn’t have any guns, back in the day before unions, when the average life expectancy of such a man was maybe forty, and his wife too, and their kids’, if they made it past their 6th year. It’s not like guns are the reason we don’t live like that anymore (we’ve made third-world people live like that to sustain our lifestyles), but guns may be of use to make sure the likes of the Koch brothers and the Rockefellers don’t return us to that. Or worse.

 

Still, many are calling for gun control, after that shooting in Aurora, CO. Bloomberg is testing it as a potential opportunity to steal the presidency. Wouldn’t that be awesome, a multi billionaire media conglomerator apologist for the rich as God class, as our President, instituting a mandatory gun registry and confiscation, for everybody but the government? That shooting, as has been implied, has all the hallmarks of a False Flag, about which I could go either way. It’s either that, or the monster is a true evil genius madman, to have figured out how to build all those improvised explosive devices (IEDs) all by himself, in such a short period of time without raising much suspicion anywhere apparently, and without blowing himself up. Whatever the case, it has provided a fine opportunity for the government via the media to put the breaks on Americans arming themselves in the face of the government’s very much on-the-table legal and logistical preparations for martial law.

 

Austerity for everybody but the rich as God class, anyone? I mean, if there is a global financial breakdown and a collapse in supply chains, and they just checkpoint the outlets of all the cities in the midst of nuclear power plants, and let the carnage take it’s course….well, you get the point.

 

Like I said, I don’t care if I ever have to shoot a gun again. I really would rather not. I don’t own one and I don’t have the money to buy. But I wonder too, because I am a good man who knows the difference between predator control freaks, the burned out losers without conscience, and the basically good, and because a gun feels perfectly comfortable in my hands, don’t I have some responsibility to stay alive, to help protect those who cannot protect themselves from said monsters? Or is it more important for me, as a grower of food, as a builder of shelters, as a knower of the medicinal qualities of plants, is it better to exist at the periphery, and let the idiots shoot each other into oblivion – should the whole thing come crashing down of course – that I might be there to help rebuild?

 

I don’t know. I do know, there’s a reckoning coming, one way or another. We don’t get to increase our numbers like we have, while encouraging unlimited consumption on a finite planet, and have it all work out like a Disney fairy tale. The culture is rotten beyond redemption. Such a people of such a culture are not capable of simply stopping and making the world a better place for everyone and everything in it. Particularly not when the obvious trajectory they are on is leading to a shootout.

 

 

 

 

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