The Department of Dumbass Conceal Carry Edition

July 8, 2015

You can’t make this stuff up. Well, I can, but no need this day.

A guy drives up to the new Dollar General Store on Route 3. He reaches for his sidearm on his right hip. He intends to hide the weapon while he goes in and shops. He pulls the gun from the holster and shoves it under the driver’s side seat.

You know what happened, don’t you. Don’t you? The gun goes off, shooting him in the right kneecap. In writing, this is known as poetic justice.

An ambulance takes the chump to St. Anthony’s Hospital. One can only hope that the over-zealous nun with the huge ta-tas who works the E.R. prayed over and lectured him before or after she asked him about his bowel movements.

White dumbassery is breaking out all over the country. Several thousand people have shot themselves as a result of conceal carry. It is the logical result of fear. It would be funny if it stopped there. But grandparents are shooting their grandchildren, husbands are killing their wives over a bad dinner, movie goers are shooting patrons, and so it goes. Hey, accidents happen.

I say white, because more white people are armed now than are gangbangers, policemen—perhaps even our servicemen and servicewomen.

What about black people? Other than the ones who are laughing at what dumbasses we are? Well, buckaroo, that’s what the guns are for in the first place: killing Negroes come the revolution.

Or come a car full of young black men pulling up next to us and we feel “threatened.” Or come some group of wiseass kids with their pants around their knees. You don’t like it? Shoot some respect into the motherfuckers!

Can you imagine some black guys “patrolling” the streets with legal semi-automatics like our dumbest of the dumb white cowards do? Can you imagine some white guys with legal guns confronting the black guys with legal guns?

Mr. Grayson, my 87-year-old friend: “Look around this place (a local café). Who you reckon got a piece?”

I used to ogle good-looking women. Now I look for their bulge—conceal carry gun, I mean. And a bulge is not a bulge, if you know what I mean.

Oh boy. Here come the comments, the defense of guns, the complaint that I am against guns.

Let it rock.

I am against civilians carrying guns. It takes the civil out of the civilian. And the word “legal” does not mean “ethical.” People from an ethical society cannot—must not carry guns.

You want a gun in your house, Bunky? I don’t give a rat’s ass.

But ask yourself: Do you really believe that society is going to hell? Or do you believe that black people should get over slavery, racism, housing discrimination, lynching, separate-but-equal—and goddammit, you’re not taking it anymore?

I can’t hear you.


About Eugene Jones Baldwin

I am a writer: non-fiction, fiction, journalism (Alton Telegraph), essays (The Genehouse Chronicles) and have a website: I've published a couple dozen short stories and had eleven plays produced. Current projects: "Brother of the Stones" (available on Kindle), a book of short stories; "The Faithful Husband of the Rain, short stories"; "A Black Soldier's Letters Home, WWII,;" "There is No Color in Justice," a commentary on racism; "Ratkillers," a new play. I am an avocational archaeologist and I take parts of my collection of several thousand Indian artifacts (personal finds) to schools, nature centers, libraries etc. and talk about the 20,000 year history of The First people in Illinois. (See link to website) I'm also a playwright (eleven plays produced), musician, historian (authority on the Underground Railroad in Illinois, the Tuskegee Airmen) and teacher.
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