Monday, August 20, 2012

Aug 20th - A Sad but Necessary Proposal


Aug. 20th - A Sad but Necessary Proposal

Some of you are not going to like this blog entry.  For that I make no apologies.  Sometimes some things just need to be said.

Many of you have emailed me to ask me my opinion of gun control in the wake of the recent shootings in Colorado and Wisconsin.  Curiously not one has asked me about the alleged shooter in DC that opened fire on a conservative think tank because he “disagreed with their views”….his words, not mine.

I don’t blame you for not knowing the details about the DC shooter….he doesn’t fit the criterion of a good villain…he is a self proclaimed liberal….and most of the media is having a tough time figuring how to deal with that.

I have purposely kept silent on these tragedies for a little while to allow some of the emotions and hyperbole to die down.  There were more than enough pontificators taking up air time to fill the vacuum.  I saw no reason to add to the din.

That said….some observations:

First….you might be surprised to know that mass casualty disasters at the end of the gun is a fairly recent phenomenon.  Prior to the recent use of firearms to commit mass murder, psychotics employed a far more efficient tool to exterminate large swaths of humanity…..fire.

Yep…the weapon of choice of the deranged throughout history has not been the gun or the sword….rather it has been a confined area and bundles of burning straw. 

Forensics not with standing…prevention of future tragedies is of paramount concern.  Much has been made of preventing firearms from falling into the wrong hands.  By and large this seems like common sense….who wouldn’t want guns being kept out of the hands of a psychotic?

But what about that nasty straw?

If someone is prevented from obtaining a firearm are we to assume that their murderous tendencies will just simply vanish?  I doubt it.  Furthermore, if someone shows up at a gun store wearing a tin foil hat and ranting about the government it is highly likely that they will be having an intervention with the police before they walk out the place.  The point is….the one’s that appear crazy are usually not the one’s you need to worry about.

So….prophylactic measures aside.  (As we all know, sometimes the condom breaks)…how to prevent future atrocities?

Many of my fellow commentators always like to point out that when the government confiscates the weapons of it’s citizens and reduces them to subjects things usually turn out badly.  I won’t go into the gory details of this…most of you already know the story.  Hence to say Cambodia, Germany, Armenia and southern Africa have a lot more graves filled with the bodies of the defenseless, than those who were capable of resisting through force of arms.

But here is where I differ with my fellow pontificators:

I’m not sure I really believe anymore that is was the object of confiscation that lead to some of my ancestors demise, or those of other decimated peoples. 

No….it was the not the taking of the gun….it’s what was left of the person after the gun was taken.

People robbed of their independence become by definition dependants.  Dependants…well…depend not just on authority, but on a system of authority for their survival.  We might modify our bodies to imitate the ideals of the Greek Gods, but at the superficial we choose to stop.  We become wealthy by participating in the system.  We feel safe by grouping ourselves within the collective.  We outsource our protection to those that wear a uniform, and yet we know…instinctively know… that their job is by definition remedial.  They cannot logically stop a tragedy before it happens.  It is even doubtful they have the ability to respond to a tragedy rapidly enough to  prevent loss of life.  They are there to at best put an end to the carnage, or investigate the devastation and find the culprit.  This is the same if the tragedy is the result of a 9mm or a chained door and lighter fluid.

So here is a modest proposal:

Nationally, locally,…we release the demon of "victim" from our psyche and become the aggressor.  When confronted with unimaginable horror most people flee.  Some people find bravery and try to protect others.  Few are willing to unleash hell on the monsters that threaten us. 

We must, as a society be willing to shed our humanity when faced with barbarity.  It matters not if the insanity that motivates the perpetrator is fed through ideology, religion, or psychosis.  When they execute on a plan to end the lives of innocents, the innocents must become combatants.  And do so with extreme prejudice.

This does not necessarily mean only happy endings.

When a monster attacked a place of worship in Wisconsin one brave soul went operational and attacked the attacker with a butter knife.  He sadly perished, but his actions confounded the attacker and gave scores of others the chance to escape.  Good…but not good enough….what would have happened if those that ran had instead went after him with butter knives, chairs, and the soles of the shoes?

Sometimes to reclaim our humanity if the face of unimaginable evil we must shed it temporarily to send that manifestation of evil back to whence it came.  

No…gun control is no more the answer to preventing future tragedies as banning spoons will prevent future obesity. 

What we need as a society, is sadly far more aggressive.     

Sunday, August 5, 2012

Aug 5th- Whispers from Artemis


Aug 5th

An perma-adolescent chick with a bow and a hunting dog...my kinda muse!  Thanks Artemis!


As I have gotten older I have begun to realize that hunting…all aspects of hunting…are far more encompassing than I had ever realized.  The irony is that the first flicker of this understanding took place on another more bucolic battle ground….the golf course.

Years ago I was in Texas playing a round of “customer golf” with one of my suppliers.  The gentleman in the cart with me was at the end of his long and storied career.  He was an export manager for Chevron Chemical.  I on the other hand was just at the beginning of mine.

He was a nice older man.  Slim and quiet.  He had grown up in the oil fields of west Texas and was a cowboy who years ago traded in his spurs for oxfords.  He wore the regret of that decision in the deep creases on his face.  He had made sacrifices for his wife and grown kids and had understood the magnitude of those sacrifices, but refused to dwell upon them.  Decisions had been made, and that was that.  No use dwelling on the past.

He was also a fairly good golfer.  Not great, but a hell of a lot better than me…and since I was, in a sense at least, his customer he was doing his best to let me keep my score as close to his as possible.

I was still young, and (foolishly)  thought I had a chance in mastering this game.  Each blown putt or sliced drive was welling up in me with anger and embarrassment.  I slumped back to the cart and the Old Man decided to give me some advice:

“Ya know Steven, Ya probably heard that Golf is kinda like life….”

He paused to light up a cigarette before driving us down the fairway to find my ball.

“That’s only partly true.  Golf is like life distilled to its most basic parts and placed on an artificial plane.  Golf aint like life…. it’s the way people with messed up lives would like life to be…simple, with a defined task and limited authority.  Ethics are needed, but among friends can be discarded.  You can learn a lot from golf, but not too much.  When you leave the 18th hole that round is over and there is nothing left to do but wait till the next.  I like golf….learned a lot about people watching them play…but in the end golf is golf…now you wanna really know about yourself, or someone…take them afield and go hunting!”

I smiled and tried to understand what the hell he was talking about.  In the end I only knew I was frustrated with the knowledge that I just did not have in me what was necessary to make a little white ball do what I wanted it to do.

Well, I never had a chance to hunt with the Old Man.  He retired many years ago and from what I understand moved back to his original home in West Texas.  Probably gave up on golf and switched back to hunting varmints.  Someone told me that he loved to call in Coyotes. 

What he said to me though did begin to really make sense, as I got older and more involved with hunting. 

Golf is “life distilled”….Hunting is life “with everything added”.  Hunting also does not end when the bow or rifle is put away.  The power and grandeur of  a life afield follows us hunters everywhere, and Artemis whispers at us always…reminding us that we are always on “the hunt”

Yesterday I drove with my wife up from Los Angeles to Northern California for a little mid-way visit with our daughter who is currently at an academic summer camp at Stanford University.  She probably would have been just fine staying there for the entire time without being bothered by us…but she is our youngest, and damn it….I was missing her.  We decided to pull her out of the program for a couple of hours and take her to dinner.

On the way up we were crossing the Tejon pass…a semi-mountain pass that acts as the gateway from Los Angeles into the Central Valley of California.  After stopping to refuel we jumped back on the highway and there….right after the on ramp were three large bucks!  A pre-rut bachelor group just hanging out five feet from thousands of cars zipping by at 70 mph.  They had really good genetics too.  I was moving too fast to count the points, but they definitely were in the respectable class…and might have been in the OMG!!! Class. 

My wife did not see them until I started screaming and pointing.  I noticed the other cars were being driven by drivers who seemed oblivious as well.  Only one other car slowed down and I could see in my rear view mirror the driver and the passenger trying in vain to get a look at the deer.

When they ended up passing us on the left I saw a Rocky Mountain Elk Foundation sticker in the rear window….fellow hunters…of  course they “saw” the deer.

This is the point.  We hunters are never not afield.  Artemis lives by our side and constantly tells us to keep vigilant.  We have evolved (or “devolved” depending on your perspective) into environmental participants.  We are always on the hunt.  And the hunt helps to define us as who and what we are.  We are ethical not because we hold onto a set of values.  We are ethical because we are lethal, and the universe demands we hold these strong ethics.  On the golf course if we forego our moral code we have a meaningless score…afield there are far more cataclysmic consequences. 

The Old Man and I never had the chance to hunt together…a shame...I think I would have learned a lot from him.  He did however teach me something very valuable about hunting, and he did it from a golf cart on a private country club.

You just never know where the next lesson is going to come from.