Praise the Lord and Pass the Ammo
Praise the Lord and Pass the Ammo
Seventeen dead in Florida this week. Just a routine slaughter in the Home of the Brave, Land of the Free. These mass murders come so regular now it’s hard to keep up with them. The President comes down and offers condolences then blames the FBI for being too busy trying to prove Russian collusion to stop the mayhem. The Senators offer prayers. Marco Rubio, Senator for Florida, got 3.3 million dollars from the National Rifle Association to keep his comments confined to prayers for the dead, nothing they could have done to prevent these tragedies. The Congressmen wring their hands and they all say we need to do something about mental illness. But they have offered up a budget to cut funding for exactly that. Trust me, someone here is mentally ill.
48% of guns in private hands in the world, the entire world, are in American hands. It is, according to those who receive campaign contributions from the almighty NRA, a God-given right, nothing short of the right to breathe. So what if you’re mentally ill, if you’re on the no-fly terrorist list, if you have a history of violence? You have a right to a gun. Or fifty. You might have to pass a test to drive a car; after all, it’s a dangerous weapon in the wrong hands. But a gun, not a problem. You might not be legally entitled to drink a beer at 18 but you can buy an assault rifle.
After the Las Vegas massacre there was some talk of banning bump-stocks, those neat after-market add-ons that could turn your semi-automatic weapon into a fully functioning automatic machine gun. You heard anything more of any bill that might ban those? No? Well, maybe you never heard, money talks, bullshit walks and the NRA has more money to buy off legislators than anybody else. You want to vote against anything that has to do with guns, you better want a job in the private sector.
The Sec. of Education wants to put guns in the hands of the school teachers. More guns, that’s the answer. And the power of prayer. Gloria Copeland, a member of Donald Trump’s spiritual advisory council, suggests prayer over vaccines to prevent the flu. I know what you’re asking: Donald has a spiritual advisor???? Me, I thought Stormy Daniels was maybe that advisor.
These are tough times for the Righteous Right. 17 dead and mostly kids. Versus a bucket of money from the NRA. My prayers are certainly with the victims. But my vote is going to anyone who has more sense than God gave to a turnip. Can I hear an amen to that?
Hits: 173
Tags: AR-15's for every mentally ill person! Guns don't kill, NRA and their Republican Lackeys, people with guns kill
I see in the news kids are protesting over the NRA making them targets while they try and attend classes at their local high school. They simply want to live their lives, maybe even learn a thing or two in an English class or a math class, and hopefully get a date for the Friday night basketball game and dance.
Could this be the start of a movement? One that might slowly build, starting in Florida, and expand across our nation? Young people who can’t even vote, demanding that legislators listen to them?
I guess I’m old enough now to say, “it reminds me of a time, back in the sixties when we couldn’t vote either, but generals wanted to convert us into targets for their poorly investigated, and badly plotted assumptions…”
I have a vague memory of those times you mentioned. Viet Nam, wasn’t it, something to do with dominoes and those pesky Russians? Boy, howdy, did we show those politicians a thing or two! Or what? Got Nixon for a President promising to end the war and first thing you know, the crook is bombing Cambodia and Laos. Kissinger, that war criminal, is still sticking his nose into the White House.
Those Sunshine State kids, all I can say is good luck. And thanks!! You never know where something like that might lead. Maybe a spark that becomes a wildfire. I like them calling out the NRA. I like them asking how much those lackeys each got from the Gun Lobby. I like that they’re pissed and moving beyond the usual grief platitudes. You never know …