It’s amazing what
one has to believe to believe in gun control
by Michael Z. Williamson
http://www.cloak-dagger.com
daggers@indy.net
You fear me.
I am a killer.
At 100 meters,
I can make 5 lethal shots in 3 seconds with my assault rifle.
You want to ban them so you’ll feel safer.
Go ahead.
With my bolt action I can make 3 shots in 5 seconds.
And it’s a sporting arm. I
suppose you’ll ban it next, as a “sniper rifle.” Then my shotgun as a “police riot weapon.”
I already know you don’t like handguns.
It doesn’t matter. I am a killer.
I have old
ones, pre 1968, that have no numbers or paperwork. I have used ones no one knows
about. I have more than you can imagine. I will have my guns, no matter what you do.
I am a killer.
You can search
door to door, harass people, seize weapons, and generally act like the Gestapo.
I may decide to shoot your goons. Or
I may bide my time. A good killer
picks his battles carefully. Outnumbered
by thugs in armor is not a good fight to pick.
4140 and 416
steel are readily available. It
takes only minimal machine knowledge to manufacture firearms.
You say I won’t have ammo? Brass
can be turned or stamped easily. And
any chemistry student can build a fractionating still for chemicals and make
smokeless propellant. Alcohol,
battery acid, and few household chemicals are all one needs.
Of course I studied chemistry. I
am a killer.
Strictly
control tools and materials. Destroy
the economy with your fear. An old
brake drum and a hairdryer makes a forge for under $10.
Axles and transmission shafts can be drilled by hand or forged. I can even make my own steel.
How do you think the colonials made guns? I can still make primers and cartridges for breechloaders.
I am a killer.
You doubt that?
Well, sulfur is easy to find, charcoal comes from wood and salpeter from
manure. Blackpowder was invented at
least 900 years ago. Do you really
think you can stop me? Will you
post guards over flint deposits? It’s
just quartz. I can use space heater
elements or even glass in an emergency. After
all, I’m a dedicated killer.
Watch all
industrial products. Send snoops everywhere.
Use dogs and sniffers to find all explosives. I have old leaf springs, saw blades, and cable.
I can make a crossbow that tops 200 lbs pull.
I am an inventive killer.
Leaf springs
are getting rare, you say? Well,
trees aren’t. I know how to split
and tiller a bow, section a grip and bend limbs.
I know the moisture content for good flex.
Any carpenter or engineer does. Nylon
and silk bowstrings are nothing new. I
can select wood for arrows, knowing the spine weight I need.
Points can be chipped from flint, if necessary.
We’ve been killers a long time.
Yes, I will
always have the best weapons available for my safety, and you will never take
away enough to make yourself feel comfortable.
I don’t care about your wishes, or your laws.
They are the will of mice against the cat, of sheep against the wolf.
You fear me.
I am a killer. But I am not
your enemy.
The criminals
are your enemy. They kept their guns, too.
Jail for owning one? What
care they, when they face death daily, and jail for their other crimes?
The wolves now know the sheep are helpless.
They will come for you, and you cannot stop them.
The state may
protect you, if it has enough agents, if they can be everywhere.
But the more you hire, the lower the admission standards must be. Incompetence must enter the equation. What when the criminals decide to gain access through the
power of the badge? And even if
not, can you afford the safety you want? Can
anyone?
I can.
I am a killer. I am
protected, whether the goons come for the thugs or not, whether or not you can
tell them apart. The enemy that
knocks on my door will die.
And your
door...well, that’s a problem. Remember
what I said about picking one’s battles carefully?
I just don’t think your door is a battle I can win.
Maybe six generations back, when I had equal weaponry. But not now. Yes,
your screams of terror and fear, outrage and anguish will bother me.
Being a killer doesn’t make me inhuman.
In fact, being a killer is the very thing that makes me, makes all of us,
human. But saving my own, and my
family’s humanity, means sacrifices must be made.
You, and those like you, must be left behind in the dust of Darwinian
evolution. The rest of us will probably be better for your passing.
I wish it could be otherwise, and your demise troubles me.
But I can’t make your decisions for you.
But you should
be glad. It was my interference, my
lethality that drove you to this. Now,
ultimately, you having nothing to fear from me.
You need no longer fear me.
But I am still
a killer.
Ó
2000 by Michael Z. Williamson. Permission
granted to copy this article in its entirety, provided this notice is included.
http://www.cloak-dagger.com
daggers@indy.net
