The terrible tragedy in Newton has me as upset as anyone. With kids in school and a wife who teaches, I feel helpless, angry, and frustrated beyond belief. I’ve resolved to tackle this issue and make our world a safer place, and I’m going to do it by following the lead of (hold onto your hat) the NRA.
The initial reaction of mainstream America will be utter repulsion. The NRA may seem like a bunch of extremist, gun-crazed, self-absorbed nutjobs who have completely lost touch with common sense. That may be the case, but I believe we should give them a chance.
By my count, the NRA is the only organization to offer up a completely American solution to the problem of gun-wielding psychopaths. As an original thinker, I applaud them for not copying the steps taken by Australia and China to reduce gun violence.
Yes, the gun-control efforts of the Aussies and the Chinese may have dramatically reduced these incidents of mayhem. But this is America, the greatest country in the history of the earth. When you’re the greatest country in the history of the earth, you don’t start copying other countries. It makes us look like copycats, and people will call us names. They may also sue us, and who the heck wants to spend a nice sunny day in court? I don’t.
Let’s go with a better approach: My latest epiphany, which take the NRA’s brilliant epiphany to the next level.
Building the Well-Armed Forces
The NRA wants to place armed guards in schools, but I say why stop there? Instead, let’s place guards in every conceivable place where a gun-wielding psychopath could strike. To do this, I would need a lot of people armed and ready to blow someone’s head off, and also a lot of guns. Good thing America’s got plenty of each.
I made a quick phone call to Wayne LaPierre, the visionary leader of the NRA, and outlined my plan to him.
“Armed guards in every conceivable unprotected area of the United States?” he asked, clarifying my epiphany.
“If we have undersea colonies, we should consider protecting those as well,” I replied.
Wayne said we’d need some sort of high-powered automatic weapon that could fire underwater if that were the case, and that he actually had a few such weapons laying around the kitchen. But he highly doubted there were underwater colonies, and besides, “Most psychopaths aren’t scuba divers,” he assured me.
Finding enough armed guards to protect every unsecured area in the United States would require a lot of people. I needed some volunteers, so I visited my local Walgreens. I went to the rocket launcher / small firearm aisle, where several men were checking the sights on the merchandise.
“You are my top 10,” I told the men. “Why don’t you swing by my house later tonight and we can talk turkey.”
“Should we bring ammo?” a portly man asked. He had two belts of bullets criss-crossing his chest.
“Hell yes. Hopefully we can also shoot some turkey,” I grinned.
Later that night, ten well-armed men settled down in my living room for milk, cookies, and a serious discussion on how to protect our little slice of heaven. Unfortunately, our numbers were quickly reduced to nine.
One of the members misfired his newly-purchased Glock semiautomatic handgun while he was reaching for a vanilla wafer, and three members of the group were left riddled with bullets and pretty dead. This created a small delay in the proceedings, as we had to deal with the trauma and bloodshed. But we soldiered on, so to speak.
“Ok, we’ll protect the schools,” I said. “But it appears we are vulnerable in many other venues.”
We began to list all the other areas we would need armed guards in our little community. Our list included the municipal buildings, the libraries, and the firehouse. The tennis courts also seemed prone, as did the city parks, the beaches, and the baseball diamonds. The list kept growing and growing.
After adding the yard-waste drop-off site, the parking lots, and the town’s lone Chinese restaurant, we had 152 locations. “Man, we’re going to need more guards,” I said.
“And more ammo,” a fellow militia member noted.
Fortunately, we could walk down to the gas station and pick up plenty of AK-47s and thermonuclear warheads, so no problems there. But we were running short on armed guards. I suggested we visit several of the town’s assisted living facilities, where we found hundreds of elderly people just sitting idle in wheelchairs.
“Lock and load, people!” I shouted, thrusting a sawed-off shotgun into the feeble arms of an elderly woman. “Don’t worry, ma’am. You won’t even have to get up – just shoot from the chair.”
Oops, a Mass Killing
Through hard work and plenty of volunteer efforts, we managed to stake-out guards throughout the entire town. Now our citizens were well-protected from the loonies and crazies. However, it soon became apparent that there was another flaw in our plan.
“What if a looney guns down one of our guards?” my second-in-command asked.
“You’re right!” I cried. “We need guards to guard the guards…and fast!”
With all of our senior citizens and out-of-work townspeople armed and at their posts, we had no choice but to dip into the ranks of the schools. Children will eventually have to learn how to blow the heads off of lunatics, so why not teach ‘em young? Besides, standing guard after school is so much more desirable than sitting in a basement playing video games.
The school districts, which by now were heavily fortified bunkers with multi-security checkpoints and high-tech surveillance cameras, welcomed the inevitable transition to a fully-operational military outpost.
“Budget cuts have depleted our operating funds,” said our smiling superintendent. “But now we can get money from the Defense department for training and to purchase a Stealth fighter. At least the kids will be learning something!”
Thanks to our continued efforts, we now had guards guarding our guards. For a glorious period of two days, all was well.
On day three, an unfortunate incident occurred.
One of our well-armed seniors accidentally misfired a semi-automatic machine gun, thinking she was using her inhaler instead. (We had eschewed background and dementia checks on our guards.) As a result, fourteen people were killed in a convenience store.
A nearby school child, witnessing the mayhem, suddenly experienced a video-game Call of Duty flashback, and launched into game-mode. Armed with his submachine gun, he slaughtered nearly twenty more townspeople before his fellow students, also in game-mode, gunned him down.
The news media descended upon our town, filming the carnage and shaking their heads. “How much longer will we put up with this?” people cried, including the President, who wept and vowed “immediate action.”
My well-armed planning committee shrugged it off, and circled our calendars for three weeks later. That would be the day when the memory of this latest massacre would slip from the collective minds of the masses, and we could resume our plan to protect our citizenry.
This time, however, we’ve realized the shortcoming of our plan. Not only do we need guards to guard our guards, but we also need guards to guard the guards guarding our guards.
We’re now looking for new recruits. If you’re interested in helping out, just swing by the municipal building and grab an AK-47. They’ll be in the wheelbarrow by the door. Please pitch in – we need all the protection we can get!
- photo from Seattle Municipal Archives
This brilliant brilliance is courtesy of guest blogger Greg Mischio. Some call it satire, but others read his blog Epiphanies that Will Alter the Course of Human Events and call it dang visionary.