It’s All Right, Ma. I’m Only Bleeding
March 25th, 2009 by Syd
You lose yourself, you reappear
You suddenly find you got nothing to fear
Alone you stand with nobody near
When a trembling distant voice, unclear
Startles your sleeping ears to hear
That somebody thinks
They really found you.
A question in your nerves is lit
Yet you know there is no answer fit to satisfy
Insure you not to quit
To keep it in your mind and not fergit
That it is not he or she or them or it
That you belong to.
- Bob Dylan
I’m not adjusting to this new reality very well. Obamaworld is a strange place indeed. I feel disoriented and disappointed. I’m not really sure what to say or which way to go. That’s the reason I haven’t had much to say lately.
You see, I’m angry. Of course I’m angry at what the Obamatrons threaten to do to our civil rights, but I’m angry too at the Bush Republicans. They screwed up by the numbers, starting with the mistaken justification of the war in Iraq, and on to the perversely named “Patriot Act,” the Department of Homeland Insecurity that probably has me classified as a dangerous subversive by now, the botched rebuilding of Iraq, the failure to capture Bin Laden, the mismanagement of the financial system… the list just goes on and on. The failures of the Bush administration and its congressional rubber-stamp leadership have put us in this position. The people were so angry by the time the election came around that I think the Democrats could have run Brittany Spears for president and won. I’m angry. I’m angry at just about everyone.
I have spent the past twenty five years working for the cause of gun rights. Now, I’m faced with the specter of watching everything that we have worked for turned back and dismantled by the newly empowered nanny-staters. It’s infuriating.
This was an ominous portent:
In Thursday’s ruling, Federal District Court Judge Colleen Kollar-Kotelly issued the preliminary injunction against the Department of the Interior rule that took effect on January 9, 2009. The revised rule allowed individuals to carry concealed firearms for self-defense in national parks and national wildlife refuges located in states that allow the carrying of concealed firearms.
I’m sure this is just the first of a long series of setbacks we will face. A new “assault weapons ban” is already in the works and it will be a whole lot worse than the last one. Our new attorney general was the Clinton administration’s point man on gun control and I expect plenty of fun and games out of him – you know, the guy who accused us of being a nation of racial cowards right after we elected the first African-American president. That same jerk, Eric Holder, is also in charge of the ATF. I can hardly wait.
So, I’m considering my options:
-
Denial: Pretend that John McCain won the election.
My sense of reality is a bit too strong for this one. -
Insurrection: Form a militia unit and die in a hail of gunfire in a few weeks.
Doesn’t really sound like a whole lot of fun. -
Convert to Socialism: Have a red star tattooed on my butt.
Not really my style. -
Keep on Keeping On:
The only real choice.
There’s another thing that makes me crazy: just when I get my motivation together to rejoin the fight, some “failed personality” kills ten innocent people in Alabama, or a preacher in Illinois, or four cops in Oakland. Every time one of these incidents happen, our job gets more difficult. For those of us who support armed self defense, these events simply confirm the need for us to be armed. Yet, for a growing number of people, a simple if flawed logic prevails: if they didn’t have the guns, they couldn’t do these things. I sense that the political will is growing to put in place far more stringent forms of gun control in response to these incidents. The National Firearms Act of 1934 and the Gun Control Act of 1968 were political responses to high-profile gun mayhem. It can happen again.
In my town, it seems that almost every night there is another killing. Most of these crimes are done with illegal guns, and most of the perps and victims are young African Americans. This scenario plays out daily in all of our urban centers. The carnage is senseless, tragic and happening on a large scale. Two days ago, a young black woman was gunned down in broad daylight in a city park with lots of people around her. Was she a crack dealer or gangster? No, under pressure from a judge, she had agreed to testify in a murder trial about another shooting she had witnessed last year. People are getting tired of this kind of thing and it’s happening way too often. It may not be right, and it may violate the Constitution, but if people get frightened enough, they can do some wrong and irrational things.
I haven’t changed my stance on anything, and I certainly haven’t sold my rifle, but I will confess that I have grown tired of defending “assault weapons” in the face of these horrendous crimes. With each successive horror, the constitutional argument seems weaker, and I fear that the day will come that people will stop listening to it altogether. Actually, that day may have already arrived. I believe that the only thing which stays the hand of the new administration is that the financial crisis is far more urgent. The new administration must succeed in turning the economy around or its credibility is down the toilet. They know they cannot afford a gun control fight right now. That’s the only thing standing between us and a gun control act of 2009, the likes of which we would have not thought possible only a few short years ago.
So, that’s what I dealing with, thinking about and struggling with. That’s why I have been so quiet of late (and also, I’m susceptible to burn-out). Where to go, what tone to take, what picture of the future should be guiding me – these are the questions which bring me to the word processor but leave me staring at a blank page. I hope I’ll achieve some clarity, but I can’t say it has happened yet.
Darkness at the break of noon
Shadows even the silver spoon
The handmade blade, the child’s balloon
Eclipses both the sun and moon
To understand you know too soon
There is no sense in trying.
Pointed threats, they bluff with scorn
Suicide remarks are torn
From the fool’s gold mouthpiece
The hollow horn plays wasted words
Proves to warn
That he not busy being born
Is busy dying.
Front Sight, Press