Tagged: gun control

Pete Vs. Pete: Pete Wins!

Sometimes I want to believe that you read past comments on posts and consequently are in the loop. Naturally, this would be asking entirely too much, so here I’ll share a bit of the back and forth I had with another blogger named Pete. And this sharing may help ease your fears after yesterday’s post.

The moment was way back on March 28th. The March For Our Lives had just accomplished nothing. Yet there was another Pete out there who wanted to chat. After exchanging a few clarifying comments, I read a post that he had written after Sandy Hook and I replied,

ME: “Again, my point is not to persuade–not yet–but to see if we each can paraphrase what we each are saying. After reading your piece, I think the fundamental difference between your and my thoughts is best illustrated by the ‘time to show the world…violence is not in our DNA.'”

See, I believe violence is in our DNA. Anyhow. I then tried to paraphrase our two sides to the debate and so wrote,

ME: “As I see it: I believe the issue is whether arms are a protected right anymore. You believe the issue is determining how non-violent people can keep gun violence to a minimum. Am I close? I don’t think you’ll like what I said about you, but that’s the softest way I could come up with quickly.”

In my attempt to paraphrase his side, I couldn’t help but chuckle at the oxymoron which I couldn’t help but include in the phrase “non-violent people can keep gun violence to a minimum.” I chuckled because how in the hell does a non-violent person commit violence?

And yet, unlike all of you save one yesterday, he furthered the conversation and this other Pete wrote,

Other Pete: “‘You believe the issue is determining how non-violent people can keep gun violence to a minimum. Am I close?’

Yes… sort of. I’m convinced that the U.S. can reduce gun violence by serious federal legislation, which we have never really had (just minor dribs and drabs, mainly at the state level). Gun deaths and their frequencies (and styles) are increasing. The NRA option of ‘more guns’ is shameful and a total joke. We can reduce gun violence if we would only elect responsible politicians, who do not sleep with the NRA, to pass significant legislation. While I personally have no problem with repealing the 2nd Amendment, we can still keep that wretchedly worded thing, without ‘violating’ it, with the common-sense proposals espoused by organizations like the Brady Foundation and other gun control groups. And I’m behind ‘March for Our Lives’ all the way.”

Now, the only way I can make sense of his “Yes… sort of” is that this other Pete thought I meant that fellas like me and him (don’t forget to include yourself and your friends and family) are actually benevolent non-violent types capable of coming together to keep the gun violence to a minimum.

And in that moment, I again lost all hope for written conversation making any headway. Pete read what he wanted to read. And Pete read what he wanted to read.

So now I write what I want. Again. Still. Because Pete cannot be wrong.

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The Investment

“My lord duke,” said one of his attendants, “Is your grace not weary of exposing his dear life unneedfully? Why tarry we here?”

“Catesby,” returned the duke, “Here is the battle, not elsewhere. The rest are but feigned onslaughts. Here must we vanquish.”

The burning thighs that moguls create. The incomparable views of unending snow-covered ranges. The smell of chilled mountain air. The ticklish feel of snow flakes as they land on the back of my exposed neck. These memories sustained me while I was deployed in Iraq, now some ten years ago.

I hit the slopes once a year these days. I find more time to answer the Rocky Mountain’s call during the summer months.

“Anything to make sure these MOTHERFUCKERS don’t ruin OUR mountains!” I’d console myself, during the more searching moments of combat.

You civilians will never understand. You won’t. You’ll try and you’ll claim you’ve tried, but you won’t. The best you can do to show you’re listening is get over yourself. You didn’t fight, you didn’t sacrifice, so your words will never be as powerful. Deal with it.

We veterans, we made an investment when we raised our hand. That’s the best way I can try to explain to you why this whole gun control debate has me so fired up; why everything has me so fired up. Third bathroom, women on top, godless churches, only-teleprompter-reading presidents followed by incapable-of-reading presidents, Mohammedanism in the West, and every other thing making headlines these days.

I invested eight years of my life in the Constitution of the United States of America. I didn’t invest in my family. I didn’t invest in my country. I didn’t invest in my friends. I didn’t invest in my government. I certainly didn’t invest in some mortal leader. I invested in the highest principles of law, short of divine law, we occupants of earth have ever created. (To be clear, if you disagree with my lofty assessment of the document, it doesn’t mean your lesser assessment stands a chance of being right–it means you’re not listening. SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LISTEN!)

If you want to picture a crying baby in the midst of selfish temper-tantrum upon discovering someone took his ball, you probably wouldn’t be that far off from how I feel. Except there is no baby. There is no missing ball. And there are no tears.

Instead, there is one man–perhaps standing among millions–and the reality that baby boomers are so tough and so full of righteous indignation that they are backing scared high school students against the Constitution of the United States of America, giving these mourning teenagers the microphone and encouraging them to piss on everything that I fought for, everything–in fact the only thing–for which I invested eight years of my life.

And now you stop, you stop the conversation? When you run into someone who disagrees? Give me a break. You’re on the way out. At least you could admit that you left your trash.

“My lord duke,” said one of his attendants, “Is your grace not weary of exposing his dear life unneedfully? Why tarry we here?”

“Catesby,” returned the duke, “Here is the battle, not elsewhere. The rest are but feigned onslaughts. Here must we vanquish.”

The Two Sides of the Debate, As I See It

Side A: More gun control in some form or fashion.

Side B: The only gun control they’ll respect is repealing the 2nd Amendment–but then they’ll secede.

Sounds crazy, no?

Whether crazy or not, that Side A must advocate nothing less than ‘repeal’ is so obvious to me that I cannot see any other way. I almost want to lead the charge to repeal just to show them how it is done. Isn’t that what Side A wants? If not, if you’re on Side A, please do explain why you don’t want to repeal. I cannot understand how anything less than a repeal accomplishes what you want.

As a reminder, here is the opening of the Declaration of Independence:

When in the Course of human events it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature’s God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. — That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, — That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness.

You Don’t Want To Pull A Hammy

My favorite stretch happens to not involve the lower body, per se, but I think it stretches my lower back. It’s like a standing, twisting thing where I cross one leg over the other, but then turn my torso the opposite way. Usually I pull against the wall or something stable to really work out the rust. Anyhow, for a complete list of stretches and warm-up movements, here is a link to a pre-loaded google search.

As far as good shoes, here is a link to Zappos. They have free shipping and returns. If you have some available credit, the best way I’ve found to use the site is you order six or seven pairs of shoes at once, or different sizes of the same pair if you’re unsure (or say it’s a new brand), and then after they all arrive you just return the ones that don’t fit. No muss, no fuss. Here, I’ll conclude with the reminder that style is at least as important as comfort–let’s not kid ourselves.

Oh, and don’t forget to take some pictures. Like last time, you couldn’t pay me to join you.

I hope this helped. I wouldn’t want you to think you’re the only ones who care.

Review of This Is America, by Childish Gambino (Using One Scene from Robert Louis Stevenson’s The Black Arrow)

While I have your attention, do be sure to read Stevenson’s Kidnapped. Alan Breck may just be my favorite character ever.

Okay, here’s how this review works. I describe the opening of the video, then I use a few lines from The Black Arrow to express my critical thoughts.

The video opens with a shirtless man whose immediate sex appeal rivals young Jim Morrison, Mick Jagger, and Elvis Presley. Then we see him reach for his gun. And you know the rest.

****

The Good Hope was, at that moment, trembling on the summit of a swell. She subsided, with sickening velocity, upon the farther side. A wave, like a great black bulwark, hove immediately in front of her; and, with a staggering blow, she plunged headforemost through that liquid hill. The green water passed right over her from stem to stern, as high as a man’s knees; the sprays ran higher than the mast; and she rose again upon the other side, with an appalling, tremulous indecision, like a beast that has been deadly wounded… 

“Bootless, my master, bootless,” said the steersman, peering forward through the dark. “We come every moment somewhat clearer of these sandbanks; with every moment, then, the sea packeth upon us heavier, and for all these whimperers they will presently be on their backs. For, my master, ’tis a right mystery, but true, there never yet was a bad man that was a good shipman. None but the honest and the bold can endure me this tossing of a ship.”

He Read the Wrong Heller

That’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it? After you read my amendment proposal, you thought I misunderstood what I was supposed to read. You’re saying, “His friend clearly suggested the supreme court case involving Heller, then he goes and tracks down Joseph Heller’s classic Catch-22. Moron.”

Trouble is, I have read Catch-22, but, in fact, I have also read the opinions behind the latest second amendment decision of our highest court. And yes, I still maintain that my proposed amendment is both the solution to the issue and at the same time draws out the actual issue that has been raised by the school shootings of the recent past.

I previously wrote that I believe the school shootings raise the issue of whether the atom bombs dropped in WWII have fundamentally and irrevocably altered life. In other words, I believe it is time to fully address that life is not the same as it was before the bombs. The Law now wrangles a different sort of chaos. (One easy example that comes to mind is how jumping on an atom bomb does nothing for our friends–unlike stepping in front of a bullet or jumping on a grenade etc. Even Christ’s, “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends,” must needs be seen in new light.)

Another way I could have put my belief, perhaps an easier to understand way, is that since officially ending WWII we have not declared war according to our law–the U.S. Constitution–and I wonder, “Is this because we believe we are forevermore in time of war?”

In my thought experiment wherein I’m pretending to interpret the ratified then challenged Amendment XXVIII’s language of, “In time of peace, arms shall no longer be secured by the people,” I see that the most difficult part to interpret, and the most essential, is the “in time of peace.” I believe we would find that when the founders used the phrase in the third amendment, they meant there was distinction between time of war and time of peace.

Do we?

I look around and conclude, “No. No we don’t. We do not believe in the distinction.” And by my thinking, no distinction means we believe that we are in time of war.

But I’m a veteran. Not just any veteran, a veteran officer. My oath is lifelong, regardless the source of my income. So I can’t help but see war, no different than hammers can’t help but see objects to strike. But you? You’re not a veteran.

What do you see? What do you believe?

Upon Review, My Wording Was Too Moses, Not Enough Jefferson

Rise and shine, Marchers! Have your dainty feet had time to heal? Must’ve been an excruciatingly tiresome week, what with such a physically demanding event last weekend. The sacrifice! You probably forgot to carbo load ahead of time, too. Darn it all! There’s always next time. When is it? I hear the next walkout is April 20th? Shh, come closer. Did you hear that that is Hitler’s birthday, too? Hopefully people won’t think you’re celebrating, ughh. Oh, how many steps did you log? That’ll help with your HSA incentives. (Yes, the jogging in place counts.) The celebratory ice cream probably went down with less guilt, didn’t it? I mean, you really made a difference, don’t you think? I feel safer, that’s for sure. And it’s all because of you.

From within the clouds at the top of Sinai, then, seeking clearance for a full-stop landing, having read in full and considered the District of Columbia v. Heller, 554 U.S. 570 (2008), and borrowing some language from the repealed Amendment XVIII, I offer this revision for consideration.

Amendment XXVIII

Article I – After one year from the ratification of this article, in time of peace, arms shall no longer be secured by the people.

Article II – The Congress and the several states shall have concurrent power to enforce this article by appropriate legislation.

Article III –  This article shall be inoperative unless it shall have been ratified as an amendment to the Constitution by the legislatures of the several states, as provided in the Constitution, within seven years from the date of the submission hereof to the states by the Congress.

****

My question is, “Do you understand how I can competently reason that the first article of my proposed amendment does not contravene the second amendment (especially as it was interpreted in the Court’s most recent opinion on the amendment as indicated in the Heller opinion)?”

(I’m not interested in whether you agree with it or think it would ever be ratified. I’m interested in holding a conversation which assumes the amendment’s ratification, and subsequent challenge, and then we’re SCOTUS justices. You know, thought experiment style.)

****

Additionally, regarding late Justice Scalia–I do not think he would turn in his grave. My amendment in no way indicates that the right which is not to be infringed in the second amendment is “linked to or conditioned by serving in a militia.” What have I said that makes you draw that connection?

Amendment XXVIII: In Time of Peace, Arms Shall No Longer Be Secured By the People.

It’s Friday. I have the day off, and I need to get back to my study of the ancient people of Ugarit and their wedgy language. Before I do, I want to formally share my thoughts on the school shootings. I believe they are worth repeating.

I believe the school shootings, beginning when I was a senior in high school and continuing to this day, raise the issue of whether man’s creation and use of two atomic bombs has fundamentally altered the status of arms in the United States of America.

To understand how I can see this as the issue raised by school shootings requires me to explain that I believe the natural state of man is chaos. I believe that the manner with which we take a break from the chaos is “the law.” I believe that “the law” is the act of giving up freedom in order to obtain freedom. Philosophically, I believe the U.S. Constitution without the Bill of Rights (of course this document is not real–this is merely philosophical discussion) is “the law.” I believe the similarly-standing-alone-for-philosophical-explanation-only Bill of Rights is the rebuttal which declares preference for life in the pre-law, chaotic, and natural state of man in certain particular areas of life–being in our specific case: arms. Kind of a two-sides of the same coin thing, which itself manifests to the rest of the world the proud and distinct self-understanding of our people.

So that’s what I believe to be the issue raised by the shootings.

Here you’ll see again my solution to this issue, the real issue, the only issue, the issue that you have been up to now unable to say or write because you do not think for yourself, which is to add (second amendment stays) the following amendment to the U.S. Constitution, “Amendment XXVIII: In time of peace, Arms shall no longer be secured by the people.”

Hey You Yellow-Bellied Weekend Marchers! It Was Silly of Me…

…to assume you had character to begin with.

Not a single one of you accepted my challenge. Not-a one. Your silence allowed my mind to wander. In hindsight, I wonder why I didn’t think through my challenge before I declared it. Of course you wouldn’t understand you had been attacked and defend yourself. You don’t have character. Character requires perseverance, and perseverance requires overcoming some sort of difficulty. No, not the difficulties you’re thinking you have overcome. Neither exasperatingly stuck-open selfie sticks, nor completely spelling out words live under this umbrella. I’m talking difficult. I’ll give you an example.

H-‘s Spring Break was last week. (To new readers, she’s my seven-year-old daughter.) The entire reason I moved to Denver was proximity to the mountains. I wanted to live near the ski-resorts and I wanted H- to grow up skiing. The opportunity finally arrived to take her skiing. In short, the ski-lessons turned out to be a bust. She didn’t know the other kids, and the instructors were very un-ski-instructory.

Whatever.

The proper bunny hill, however, was open for another hour after the lesson, so I took her to the line for the unthinkably slow-but-brief chair lift. Suddenly she had to go to the bathroom.

“Too bad,” I said.

See, I have a younger brother. Once, when we were about to ride the Power Tower at Cedar Point–last ride of the night–as we crept closer to the terrifically terrifying thrill ride and heard the screams, he suddenly had to go to the bathroom.

I also said, “Too bad,” to him back then.

I can only imagine the transition H- experienced as she went from fear of the unknown, to fear of heights, to fear of how to get off the lift. But I don’t have to imagine her relief as I firmly held onto her and we successfully dismounted without hiccup.

“Ready for this?” I queried, absolutely certain she wasn’t.

She soon fell.

I didn’t help her up and I felt like a jerk.

Luckily, ever since she was very young, upon her falling down, I’ve been asking her, “Why do we fall down, Bruce?” and she answers with, “To learn how to pick ourselves up.” (Thanks, Mr. Nolan.)

We maybe made three trips up and down the bunny hill before we called it quits. If she ever chose to fall because she got going too fast and decided to bail before things got ugly, I would help her up. If she fell because she was afraid, I ski’d to her and told her to get up. That was day one.

Day two, we started fresh. After more of the same, she began to fall less and eventually proposed an intriguing deal.

“Hey Daddy. I was thinking. If I can ski down this without falling, can I have a stuffy (her name for Beanie Boos)?”

“I’ll make that deal,” I confirmed, quickly adding, “But you can’t fall once. But you’ve got a deal. It doesn’t matter if it takes all day either. If by the end of today you have made it down one time without falling, you get the stuffy.”

“Not once. Got it. Can I have one for every time I don’t fall?”

“No. But,” I continued, eyeing the larger mountain to our left, “If you go with me on that chair lift, all the way to the top, and ski down the green with me, then no matter how many times you fall, I will get you a second one.”

“So two total?”

“Yes, H-. If you don’t fall on this short one, and you simply go with me on the long one, you will get two stuffies.”

She agreed and we eventually boarded the longer lift. She seemed in awe of how much longer it was. I’m sure she was not looking forward to skiing down the mountain.

This green run took me about thirty seconds to make it down if I didn’t stop.

My mother, H-, and I took one and a half hours. Well, that’s not true. After about an hour, my mother just left us, unable to believe my treatment of H-.

H- cried most of the way. She fell about every ten feet. Only rarely did I help her up. At one point some stranger lady began giving H- tips, I didn’t acknowledge her existence. Probably five minutes went by before hah-sah-tahn concluded it was best to leave.

Are you getting the picture? I was aware that I was coming off as literally employing every horrible parenting tool out of the tool-bag. To these people, I was the tool. But they were mistaken.

See, they thought I was trying to teach H- how to ski. Far from it. It’s possible H- may never really take to skiing like I want her to. Instead, I was teaching her to have character. (Something I’m especially glad I did, considering I have since learned that none of you have it.)

Again, an hour an a half later, the last thirty minutes of which my dad and mom spent actively debating my sanity, H- and I finally made it to the point where she could see the bottom. Naturally she fell at that point.

“Get up,” I said.

Then, totally surprising me (for what reason, I do not know–this was the skill I was teaching) I hear her say to herself, “Okay. There’s the bottom. You can do this.”

I had to look away lest she see my joy; better for her to harbor whatever kind of ill will little girls can have for their fathers at this moment.

During the late lunch she further surprised me by suggesting that she probably shouldn’t get the stuffy because it took so long.

“A deal’s a deal, H-.”

Then she asked if after we go together a few more times on the bunny hill if she could try going by herself–after we ride up together.

Overall, H- did not take to skiing like my younger brother did at her age. She doesn’t turn much.

But she has something you don’t. And she will not forget it.

****

PS – The conversation with my friend didn’t go well, or develop at all really. We met. I barely and playfully broached the topic, and he said, “I’ve already replied.” It reminded me that he definitely carries the fire. But it also made me sad. Because I love conversation.

Hey Weekend Marchers! I Hereby Challenge Your Character…

…by asking you to have the courage to be wrong. Wrong about what? Wrong about my beliefs. I challenge you to state what I believe to be the issue. That is, state what someone who does not think that your foolish-if-fashionable footsteps are moving forward anything or anyone but your own body believes to be the issue.

Think you have the character to do this? I don’t think you do.

I think you’re chicken, the whole lot of you.

But I’m giving you the opportunity to prove me wrong. What have you got to lose? Certainly not any more tear-stained poster-board. So give it a shot and comment below. I dare ya. (Or write your own post and give me the link.)

****

I spent most of yesterday in an abundantly enjoyable conversation with one of your hopeful souls (his name is also Pete), and yet at the end, he still could only express confusion at what I believe to be the issue. (See the entire conversation here.)

I ably described the issue raised by school shootings as I see it, and I ably described the issue raised by school shootings as he saw it. By the end, he confirmed that I “sort of” saw his side. But he never demonstrated that he understood mine–nor did he really indicate that he cared to. Trouble is, I knew that I knew his side before the whole conversation started. (I knew ’cause I have been listening to you!)

But it gets worse. He is not the only one of you stomping spirits who do not seem to be able to simply state what I (and my pals) believe to be the issue.

Remember, all I want is to be assured that you possess some level of discernment. Here’s your chance to prove to me that you understand where we disagree. For assistance, links to recent posts which vary in length, breadth, and depth and whose contents contain writing which my pals generally agree I am clearly making a case in opposition to you are here, here, here, here, and here.

Clues (or beliefs which I do not hold): I do not believe the issue to be gun violence. I do not believe the issue to be bump stocks or AR-15s. I do not believe the issue to be the interpretation of the meaning of the second amendment or any of its words. I do not believe the issue will be solved by more guns. I do not believe the issue will be solved by less guns. And unlike you I do not believe the issue will be solved by stricter gun laws.

But I do believe the school shootings raise an important issue.

Can you state, in your own words, what I believe to be the issue that they raise? Remember! If you bravely accept my challenge to defend your character, YOU MAY BE WRONG–about me. Scary.