
Some I don’t delete, though, just because of their sheer weirdness, and I don’t mean Nigerian-prince-wants-to-share-his-throne-with-you weird. I get the Epoch Times delivered to my inbox every day. How this happened, I don’t know, but thanks to the Times I am constantly updated on the number of people who have died after getting vaccinated against Covid-19 (thousands) and am never reminded that if you take 150 million people as your sample, thousands of them are going to die in a week anyway. In fact, the Epoch Times never calls the virus Covid 19—they call it the Chinese Communist Party Virus, because, while they hate the CCP, they are mostly Chinese themselves, having been originally funded by the Falun Gong, and while they sleep with racists, they object to the ‘rona being referred to as the China Virus. If they could get away with calling it the Black Lives Matter Disease, they would.
It was probably them that gave my email to the National Association for Gun Rights, whose head honcho, one Dudley Brown, sent me an email the other day with the eye-catching subject: Need 9MM? : We’re Giving Away 1,000 Rounds to One Lucky Winner!
I don’t need a thousand rounds of 9MM FMJ (full metal jacket) bullets, especially from someone who thinks a full colon belongs after a question mark. I haven’t had a gun since 1992 or so, and even then, it wasn’t a 9MM. I bought a gun in 1980 because I thought it would be cool to have one, went target shooting with my revolver a couple times, then stuck it in a succession of closets for the next twelve years. It was only removed one time during that period, which was when my then-wife tried to shoot an earthquake with it. I got rid of it when my son started to walk.
Dudley sucked up to me by addressing me as “Fellow Patriot,” but I quickly saw through that. In the minds of people like Brown, the meaning of “patriot” has migrated south from “one who loves his country and the principles it was founded on,” to “someone who is willing to murder Democrats.”
In addition to my chance at the free ammo, Dudley was willing to throw in a subscription to Gunpowder Magazine, the publication sponsored by the NAGR. So, I checked that out to see what I would be missing if I declined that offer. Sure enough, it was a collection of articles bemoaning states that are pushing “secure storage” laws for guns, which would forbid gun owners from concealing their pistols under their sofa cushions or in their kid’s toy boxes, and other articles praising the efforts of states like Texas, which are proposing laws to let every citizen carry concealed weapons everywhere, on the premise that surprise gunfire on account of any minor misunderstanding is a Constitutionally protected right.
They also do “product reviews.” One was of an automatic pistol with a built-in silencer, in case you wanted to fantasize that the CIA was willing to recruit your high-school-dropout ass while you were plinking cans and drinking Old Milwaukee in the woods, and the other was a murder machine capable of spitting out fifty rounds faster than you can say “Newt Gingrich.”
But I’m tempted. Subjects for satire seem so much sparser now that we no longer have a Caucasian-in-Chief, and who can tell what rich and colorful characters the Dudster can sell my email to?
I’m sending it in.