To commemorate those murdered 10 years ago today, I went shooting on some land I have about an hour from where I live with another blogger, his wife, and three friends from church. Some time this week, I will have photos and maybe videos of the event, probably both here and at the Bacon and Boomsticks site. It wound up being more a fun day of shooting than a commemoration. In a way, yes, it was also to celebrate the freedoms we have — while we still have them, at least — and a statement that we will not be defeated. We will not be intimidated. And the sensitivities of those who share the ideology of those who committed those atrocities ten years ago today are not something with which we will ever concern ourselves. Yes, we ate pork, as well, to celebrate that right while we still fend off any all attempts to impose sharia law anywhere in this country.
The title of this post comes from a thought I had three years ago after returning from a mission trip to Venezuela. On that trip, we had a four hour bus ride from the airport in Maracaibo to a chalet in the mountains in La Puerta.
We wound up running into an unexpected checkpoint, and while the leader of our group was outside the bus explaining what our purpose was, one of Hugo’s thugs got on board and stood at the head of the bus. He, very, very, slowly, scanned ever single passenger on the bus with his eyes and had a smile on his face that, although almost imperceptible, seemed to me to be rather gleeful. I believe he was gleeful that he is in a position of power to intimidate every civilian he encounters. I remember thinking to myself, “give me a break, you two-bit thug.” I don’t remember whether or not this Hugobot was even armed. It’s likely that he was, given the thugocracy we were in.
A short time after we arrived back in the states, I told this story, (including my thoughts during the experience), to a liberty-loving relative of mine and he rather seriously said, “Yeah, but if anybody was suspicious looking or defiant in any way, he would have just killed him.”
I’ve considered that caution since he said it, and the conclusion I’ve come to is, “So? I will not be intimidated.” In Hugoland, I’m sure I would have been killed had I acted too snotty or maybe made the shape of a gun with my finger and pointed it at him. And every situation requires its own analysis regarding when to resist, talk back, or comply. It was simply wise, and rather non-intrusive to comply in that situation and location. I’m am not interested in fighting that battle for Venezulans. My battle is here.
Today, before going shooting, we stopped at Smithfield’s for some barbecue (shredded pork for you yankees), and as I do as often as I can, I was carrying my sidearm openly. I got one question from a customer asking what caliber it was, one glance from the clerk at the counter, and, I’m told, a serious scowl from some woman customer in the corner. I hadn’t even been to Smithfield’s before, so I had to ask one of the folks with us if they serve alcohol. (From what Bubba says, it sounds like it is legal to open carry in NC in restaurants that serve alcohol, but not conceal carry. Didn’t really matter in this case, because I was concealing a backup piece, as well.) Every new (to me) place I carry is yet another risk that I’m going to run into unfriendly staff or some panty-waist customer will call the police with a man with a gun report, to which our Sheriff’s office will likely and ridiculously respond — and without asking a single question, such as “Is it in his holster? Is he waving it around pointing it at people?” — regardless of the legality of the act.
But I will not be intimidated! And I will continue to carry openly wherever I can, no matter how many scowls I get. Bite me. And trust me, there just aren’t that many scowls.
[For people who are supposedly on our side, but think “bite me” shows I’m too immature to be carrying around openly supposedly being an ambassador for all gun owners, well, bite me. You see, I’m not going to say “bite me” to someone who asks me leave his restaurant. Although I might plagiarize Bubba’s letter to Bonefish, modified appropriately, and send it to them. And I’m not going to say bite me to the lady in the corner who scowls at me. Or to the cop who has to attend to the call — though maybe reluctantly here in Johnston County — reporting a man with a gun. But I do say that if you are supposedly pro-gun, yet you resort to arguments against open carry that are perfectly equivalent to the arguments used by the anti-gunners against carrying (or even owning) guns, then, please, stop helping.]
So that is my logic behind eating pork and shooting guns on the tenth anniversary of the murderous attacks on September 11, 2001. The pork is intended to offend the sensibilities of those who would force us to convert, be subjugated, or be killed.
And the guns are to say, I WILL NOT BE INTIMIDATED.
This is America!
And we will fight you until either there is not a single one of us left, or your unholy book is tossed on a dung heap and there isn’t single soul left who will be willing to carry out its exhortations.
Or, you can keep your book, believe what it says all you want…and back off.
Update 2: Via RTC, we will never forget these bottom dwellers. May they be stranded in a field surrounded by hog farms.