Guns Don’t Kill People, People Kill People – And Some People Deserve To Be Killed

“Fight Against Stupidity And Bureaucracy”

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Strong headline? Probably so.

As I write this post I am sitting here at my desk with my laptop and a toasted bagel with a little Philadelphia cheese topped with some black olives (well, I like them) plus of course the inevitable cup of coffee.

Not for the first time, what you are about to read bears no resemblance to the post I had in my head to write when I sat down here, because as I was enjoying my breakfast the thought came into my head that James Holmes may well be enjoying his breakfast too – and that annoyed me.

For those readers who have been in a coma for the past few days, James Holmes is the piece of excrement who opened fire in a movie theater in Colorado, murdering twelve innocent people, including a six year old child, who were there to enjoy a screening of the new Batman movie.

What also annoyed me is the knowledge that for months into the future we are going to be subjected to the publicity given to this evil man as he is needlessly paraded through the courts and analyzed by newspapers and tv stations eager to gain a cheap headline or two. Demented scumbags like Holmes will relish that publicity too. It will even be an encouragement to other equally demented morons to plan more of the same.

Even now I can see forming a queue of bleeding heart liberals who never miss an opportunity for jumping on the misery of others for a bit of easy publicity for themselves. They will try to ‘understand and excuse’ and will also try to shift the focus of the debate from where it should be to gun control and other spurious issues that are not the cause of the problem.

It may be a bit of a cliché these days, but guns really don’t kill people, people kill people. I have had guns and been around guns practically all of my life. A lot of my friends are likewise. Some carry them with them all the time. And in all those years not one of us has used them to kill a six year old child, nor for any illegal purpose whatsoever.

Due process and all the safeguards built into the justice system are obviously a good thing. But they are only necessary where there is, or may be, a reasonable doubt as to the guilt or innocent of the person concerned. In cases like this Colorado tragedy there is no doubt. Holmes is guilty. He was caught with the literal smoking gun in his possession and as far as I know he has made no attempt to deny his guilt.

Like the headline of this post says, some people deserve to be killed, and Holmes is one of them. The policemen on duty that night did the country a great disservice when they chose not to end the life of this mass murderer at the scene of his crime.

I really do not care to share this planet with, or breathe the same air, as people like Holmes. I don’t want to understand him. I don’t want to have to pay for his trial or incarceration. I just don’t want him around – period.

I deserve to be able to enjoy my breakfast without thoughts of people like that in my head. So do you. 

 

The Most Evil Cat In The World

”Fight Against Stupidity And Bureaucracy”

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As I’ve said before on this blog, I’m a doggie person, but I know that there are a lot of people out there who like cats. However, I don’t think any of them could have liked the cat that is the subject of this post.

It happed a few years ago when a colleague and myself were on a business trip that included a visit to a small town in West Virginia. It was a lovely little town, called Rednecksville (I won’t tell you it’s real name so as to protect the guilty), full of lovely, very friendly and hospitable people.

During the time we happened to be there they held a local fair come flea market where people from the town and the surrounding countryside would gather. Some set up stalls to sell their home crafted goods, others, like myself just went along to see what was on offer and perhaps buy a few trinkets as gifts. 

But, whilst the experience itself was enjoyable, the items that were on sale left a whole lot to be desired. They were quite unbelievably crudely made.

There was a guy with what I think were supposed to bird nesting boxes and/or feeders, but they looked more like an old plank of wood with a bit of drain pipe nailed to it. (It looked like that because that’s what it was, lol)

Other stalls were selling home made jewelry in what you could only call primitive style.

And yet more had bits of metal junk.

Surprisingly one of the junk stalls seemed to be doing good business, selling big rusty nuts and bolts and bits of chain and so forth. On second thoughts perhaps not so surprisingly since this was a largely rural community and new uses can always be found for stuff like that.

I smiled quietly to myself as I wondered if the bird box guy had been a customer of this stall the last time they had the fair.

At another stall a woman was selling some stuffed toys/animals she had very obviously made herself. None of them were good, but some were just downright awful.

For some reason best known to himself my colleague chose to buy a stuffed cat for his wife. He was getting on in years and had been married a long time, but in all those years he never had any idea about women or what they would like – and that was especially so in regard to his wife, although in his defense I have to say that she didn’t seem to like anything he did very much.

To my utter amazement he choose the most unusual stuffed cat I have ever seen. It wasn’t that it looked ugly as such, or that it was badly made. This thing looked pure evil. And no matter where you would be standing it always seemed to be looking right at you, or through you.

It was terrible, horrendous, occultish. If Steven King had been there he’d have written a book about it for sure. If Vincent Price had been holding it in some horror movie set it might have looked more acceptable. Or if we had been in Haiti, I could have understood it if it was supposed to be some voodoo ritual piece. But this was right in the middle of good old evangelical Christian Bible Belt America. This was no place for the cat from hell.  

“What do you think?” he asked, proudly showing me his new purchase.

“I hate it!” I told him in no uncertain terms. “What the hell did you buy that thing for?”

He seemed rather miffed.

He must have been more miffed when he got it home. Needless to say his wife hated it. Wouldn’t give it house room at all. And I’m sure she made her feelings very clear to him, as she usually did about almost everything.  

So he gave it to his daughter. 

She hated it. Didn’t want it near her house either.

So he gave it to his daughter-in-law. 

She hated it. She was actually scared out of her wits by it.

So he gave it to his grand-daughter. 

She hated it. Started to cry, I believe.

So he put in the trunk of the car and brought it to his office the next day. 

His secretary hated it, too. Wouldn’t have it near the office.  

So back in the trunk it went.

Eventually he must have got to hate it too because it disappeared never to be seen again.

And the weirdest bit of all….

I photographed him with it when he bought it and I would have attached it to this blog post except for one thing – the photo is nowhere to be found!

That was one weird cat!