You guys, did you know gun rights are human rights? No? Well, the reason you don’t know that is on account of you weren’t one of the
thousands hundreds dozens of people who showed up at the thirteen (13!) student-led ‘March 4 Our Rights’ events last weekend.
You probably think the only student-led gun rallies are those led by gun-hating high school drama students with skinny arms or bald brown lesbian heads who want to take everybody’s guns, melt them down, and turn them into dildos and instruments to be used in abortions. But no! Some students love guns. And they totally love the Second Amendment. Also, America.
The Chairwoman and National Director of ‘March 4 Our Rights’, Xena Amirani, said her movement is “organic, which is in stark differentiation with the marches held by Parkland gun control activists.” Organic, you guys! Like avocados. You can tell the movement is organic and totally trendy because just look at how they replaced ‘for’ with the numeral 4, just like the cool kids do. And as everybody knows, all those anti-gun rallies and marches are phony and paid for by the two Georges (Soros and Clooney) who want the American people disarmed in order to…you know, something.
Sadly for Amirani, her prediction that “thousands of students” would take part in the ‘March 4 Our Rights’ were maybe a tad optimistic. Or delusional. Maybe three dozen people attended the D.C. event. About 35 people showed up at the Chicago rally. And in Palm Beach, Florida there were only 13 (including the organizer, the three speakers, and the parents of the speakers). The organizer of the Palm Beach rally said,
“I don’t know why more people didn’t show up. I think a lot of conservatives are just afraid to show up for public events.”
I don’t know…maybe they wouldn’t be quite so afraid to show up for public events if there weren’t so many crazy fuckers running around Florida toting concealed firearms? Also maybe people didn’t show up because most folks think we don’t really need to keep arming those crazy fuckers. Just an opinion.
The problem, according to these students, is that their views are not being taken into consideration in the debate about school shootings. They just want to be heard. Instead, their call to “take back our gun rights” is met with a chorus of “What, are you fucking nuts? Take back your…just fuck off, okay?” Their complaints of “I’m being SO discriminated against and my friends don’t want to spend time with me anymore just because I love America and guns more than I care about them getting all shot up probably by a mentally ill immigrant and stuff, it’s not fair” receive shockingly little sympathy. Their heartfelt plea to part of the conversation is so often turned away by inconsiderate others who are unable to concentrate on the conversation because they don’t know who the fuck is carrying and what have you got in that backpack, anyway?
You see, gun rights advocates just want to start a dialog. Just a friendly dialog. A dialog in which they’re carrying a gun. Just in case you’re carrying a gun. A friendly dialog, so long as nobody makes an unexpected move. Or looks like they might make an unexpected move. Because c’mon, you can’t trust people; they might be some crazy fucker from Florida.
Hey if you do not like to own a gun. Do not own a gun. If you do not want your neighbor to own a gun, move to England.
Wow, Billy. That’s profound. In fact if you don’t want your neighbor to own a gun yu could move almost anywhere else in the world that isn’t the US.
Aw, Billy, there there. I like guns. I was raised around guns. I’ve been trained to use them. I’ve handled everything from revolvers to pistols to shotguns to semi-auto rifles to full auto firearms. I had a license to carry for the seven years I was a criminal defense investigator.
I like guns. I just think they should be hard to buy. And no, I don’t trust my neighbor with a firearm. I don’t trust anybody who isn’t me with a firearm. And I generally think folks who worship the Second Amendment are pretty fucking stupid.
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Gun nuts have ALL the answers.
You can have my brain when you pry it from my cold, dead skull.