|You Are a Pegasus|
You are a perfectionist, with an eye for beauty.
You know how to live a good life – and you rarely deviate from your good taste.
While you aren’t outgoing, you have excellent social skills.
People both admire you – and feel very comfortable around you.
This is kinda old news, but I haven’t blogged about it, so here it is. A fellow named Jim Zumbo lives in Wyoming. Per his own description, he is “a guy who hunts 200 days a year, does seminars on hunting, wrote for six hunting magazines, had a hunting TV show, and wrote 20 books on hunting.“
Yet somehow, he has managed to live in some sort of hunter’s vacuum, where he has never discovered that people use guns for things besides hunting, and that people hunt using guns that he hasn’t used nor written about. He developed the unfortunately common hunter’s viewpoint that the only worthwhile guns are the kind that he himself likes to use.
And so, one evening on President’s Day Weekend, he wrote and posted this to his blog on the Outdoor Life website:
Assault Rifles For Hunters?
As I write this, I’m hunting coyotes in southeastern Wyoming with Eddie Stevenson, PR Manager for Remington Arms, Greg Dennison, who is senior research engineer for Remington, and several writers. We’re testing Remington’s brand new .17 cal Spitfire bullet on coyotes.
I must be living in a vacuum. The guides on our hunt tell me that the use of AR and AK rifles have a rapidly growing following among hunters, especially prairie dog hunters. I had no clue. Only once in my life have I ever seen anyone using one of these firearms.
I call them “assault” rifles, which may upset some people. Excuse me, maybe I’m a traditionalist, but I see no place for these weapons among our hunting fraternity. I’ll go so far as to call them “terrorist” rifles. They tell me that some companies are producing assault rifles that are “tackdrivers.”
Sorry, folks, in my humble opinion, these things have no place in hunting. We don’t need to be lumped into the group of people who terrorize the world with them, which is an obvious concern. I’ve always been comfortable with the statement that hunters don’t use assault rifles. We’ve always been proud of our “sporting firearms.”
This really has me concerned. As hunters, we don’t need the image of walking around the woods carrying one of these weapons. To most of the public, an assault rifle is a terrifying thing. Let’s divorce ourselves from them. I say game departments should ban them from the prairies and woods.
February 16, 2007 in Hunting
Within three days of that article being posted to the Internet, there was such a firestorm of shock and revulsion from the shooting community to his sponsors that Remington severed all ties with him, Outdoor Life asked for his resignation, and every other firearms-related company he was affiliated with cut all affiliations.
He typified the elitism that the shooting masses see, “I don’t care if they ban guns I don’t like, because only the guns I like are valid and useful.” Apparently, during his 67 years of living in the backwoods of Wyoming and being a professional hunter & writer, he has never worried about guns for home or self defense, has never been to a shooting competition, and has never read gun magazines besides his own. He dismissed one of the most popular guns of all time as an ugly terrorist weapon. Mere days after H.R. 1022: To reauthorize the assault weapons ban was introduced to Congress, he advocated banning guns he didn’t find useful.
Previously, we’ve put up with bans on Saturday Night Specials (less expensive guns that poor people can afford), assault weapon bans (quality, reliable guns that have certain cosmetic features), .50-caliber bans (expensive, very high quality guns for target shooting), and whatever else the gun banners can think of. They compartmentalize guns into groups by functional or cosmetic differences that can be demonized, and work to ban those, a little at a time.
And unfortunately, they are frequently successful because many gun owners are like Zumbo here. They don’t care of other peoples’ guns are banned, as long as their own are safe.
However, gun owners are being forced to realize that the gun banners don’t just want to ban “some” guns, they want to ban all of them. As in Australia and Great Britain, once the camel has his nose in the tent, he keeps pushing for more, until he is in the tent, putting his feet in your face while you sleep, getting sand all over everything, and taking every last one of your guns.
So, the online gun community unitedly spoke out in revulsion against Zumbo, which pretty much put an end to his career.
But will gun owners respond with such enthusiasm to their own legislators when anti-gun legislation is proposed? Or will they just put their hands in their pockets and say their voice doesn’t make a difference?
Welp, since I can’t think of anything else to blog about, I’ll post the results of this dopey quiz.
Now, I know that most of my readers are female, and since I scored high on this quiz, I feel confident using my logical skillz to deduce that most of my readers will not bother with the quiz, or will just fill it out willy-nilly in order to post something on their own blogs.
So, without further ado:
|You Are Pretty Logical|
You’re a bit of a wizard when it comes to logic
While you don’t have perfect logic, you logic is pretty darn good
Keep at it – you’ve got a lot of natural talent in this area!
Hello dear readers,
Today, I’d like to share with you an interesting website I’ve discovered:
It is a very long list of things some guy and his girlfriend have argued about. Now, while that may seems like a drudgerous list, it is, in fact, quite full of variety and entertainment.
Such as this:
Our sink is blue and we’re not talking about it. It happened over a week ago; I was leaning over the sink, brushing my teeth, when I noticed that there was a sort of lazuline patina that had seeped over most of the surface. Margret hasn’t mentioned anything about this. Why she hasn’t is that she’s obviously tried to clean the sink with, well, I don’t know, some fluid used for stripping entrenched cerriped colonies from the hulls of submarines or something (they were probably offering three bottles of the stuff for the price of two at Aldi). She is waiting for me to mention it. But I am a wily fox, and will be doing nothing of the sort. I’m no wet-behind-the-ears, naive youth anymore, not by a looooong way, and I can perfectly see the spiked pit the seemingly innocent words, ‘Did you know the sink’s blue’ are covering. It would go – precisely – like this:
Me: Did you know the sink’s blue?
Margret: Yes. I did. I used a jungle exfoliant produced by the Taiwanese military to clean it, and it discoloured the surface.
Me: Oooooooo. K.
Margret: Well maybe, just maybe, if you cleaned the sink once in a while…
You see what she did there? Now I’m facing a whole day of ‘When did you last…?’ Well, not this canny fellow – not this time, my friends.
Our sink is blue and we’re not talking about it.