Friday, September 18, 2009

Confessions of a Conservative Christian Libertarian Constitutionalist

The beauty of owning twin kraut World War II vintage Walthers is that the barrels on them are long and narrow enough to type with. They come from a time when men were men, and guns didn't need "safeties." Sure, that's cost me a keyboard or two, blogging with them, but no price is too high to pay in the name of freedom.

One time, I got so goddamned worked up blogging about that Barak Hussein, I blasted through the Enter key, and the slug did some weird dance ricocheting off the desk, going through the trailer wall separating the living room from the bedroom. It found its way into my wife's right temple. Before I hear any gasps from the gallery, let me tell you that she survived the mishap just fine. Poor thing's been dying of brain cancer the last year, and since we don't have any health insurance after I lost my job at the incinerator plant, I had to cauterize the wound with my soldering iron. Her head's a little lopsided now, but nothing a wad of toilet paper underneath her wig can't fix. Weird thing is, she says the tumor doesn't hurt so much anymore. Fancy that.

First thing I'd like to note: I don't have a permit for my Walters. Fedzilla is not going to have me on any its goddamned bureaucrat lists.

Second: when are people finally going to admit that the government can't get a goddamned thing right? From traffic laws, to taxes, welfare, to keeping the roads in passable condition. The mail's slow, schools are nothing but idiot-making factories, and snow plows only clear the streets where the mayor's friends live. Government sticks its incompetent nose into the auto industry, Wall Street, and now it wants to get into the healthcare business. Where does the madness end?

Now, I don't care if the bureacrats and their jack-booted police want to tell people what they can and cannot smoke, who they can and cannot fuck, what they can and cannot watch, read, drink, snort, or inject. Go ahead and jail those hippy assholes and their marijuana. Just don't try and take away my guns!

Some hippy, Communist, jackoff at the incinerator plant once said to me, "Why is it that conservatives think the government can't do anything right, except when it comes to executing its citizens?"

The son of a bitch. Sure, I know about "Thou shalt not kill," but everybody knows that God actually meant "Thou shalt not kill . . . unless you make me mad."

"And isn't it funny," the hippy Communist asshole went on, "that our economic system is called 'capitalism' and executing citizens is called 'capital punishment'?"

Yeah, hilarious. I didn't see the idiot's point, but that was nothing new.

What do I care about the government killing people who are murderers?

Then the hippy loudmouth said, "You know, conservatives live in society like there is no society. You live in the community like there is no community."

Well, who the hell can make heads or tails out of that?

I blog with my Walthers because how do I know some hippy drug maniac isn't going to come in through my window and slaughter me and my wife? How do I know the FBI isn't going to mistake my place for Ruby Ridge or Waco? I see those neighbors across the driveway sitting outside, always watching my trailer. Probably informants. Christ, they're probably a sleeper cell for some group of fanatical whackos. How do I even know my neighbors are my neighbors?

Sometimes, I watch my wife sleep and I'm tempted to poke at the cauterized bullet wound in her head, just to make sure it isn't make-up; that she's not some snitch sent in here undercover. There's even the odd time I'll look in the bathroom mirror and wonder if its not actually a piece of clear glass behind which the government has created a room to look just like my bathroom, and that they have an actor in there acting just like me. I've seen that in movies. Sure, the only time the government has its act together is when its up your nose and down your throat, snooping. So, I took a shot at that window, one day. Turned out, it was only a mirror after all. My wife wasn't bothered. She figured I was blogging.

My cat's been watching me extra intent this evening. When I look at its eyes the right way, they don't look like eyes, but camera lenses. Sure, the government has all the expertise in the world when it comes to spying on its own citizens! Time I took a closer look.

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