The Dickination About Gun Control

Who are we trying to kid? This nation has no interest in gun control. This nation is made up of people. It is made up of people that are raised to see guns at almost every stage of our lives.

Toy guns, games, cartoons, westerns, and feature films.

I watched The Rifleman as a kid and thought the dude was a half step next to God.

The Rifleman was a good guy. Where he lived there was a steady stream of bad guys trying to take his land, a woman or his town. Every dang week that good peaceable man was killing about three to five people a week.

I took in the lesson. The world was bad but good people had guns to shoot up the bad folks.

I took it in and didn't question it. Every other show on television had a gun in proximity. When I was allowed to go to the movies it was a good time for all if it was on of the Sergio Leone Spaghetti westerns

I took in more lessons; don't ever live in an arm pit of a town and you are screwed unless someone who has a gun can shoot the bad guys for you.

I can't think of a day where I didn't see an image of a gun as a kid. And I was a city kid, not in the boonies.

So our relationship to guns goes a bit deeper that people propping up the Constitution as a right of co-existence with guns.

America worships the gun.

And yet we expect grown men and women to make rational choices that would respect the rights of honest gun owners with the equal rights of those that don't want to be blown to hell by other people.

You'd think that 20 school kids would be enough motivation to come to a center point for discussion.

You would be wrong. As wrong as the death of Martin Luther King and Bobby Kennedy. As wrong at the attempt on Ronald Reagan. As wrong as the thousands of children that have died before Sandy Hook in their homes or on the porch who were victims of drive-by shootings.

So yeah, I'm a little bitter that those children are being used by the political opportunists on the right and the left of the political spectrum.

I'm bone angry that we as a nation don't have a systemic way of dealing with guns.

We have no required gun training for those that want to legally purchase a gun. There isn't a skill level that is required before you are allowed to fire one. It is optional.

I can't drive a car without demonstrating proficiency. Gun owners can and do purchase guns without demonstrating skill levels.

We don't have a safe way to educate children about the dangers of guns; there is no counter balance to what they experience in fiction, games or television.

My god, we talk less about gun safety, usage and awareness than we do about sex education and we have proven just how damn ignorant we are as a country about that haven't we?

You'd have to talk about the "manhood" thing so folks would be clear that strong men do not necessarily have to blow your brains out after a disagreement. No, better to decimate the opposition and have it all your way until somebody blows your ass out of the water.

Think I'm kidding? Do a Twitter search on #guncontrol. That will lessen your faith in humanity.

We don't even begin to have a better enforcement to prevent illegal purchasing and distribution of guns to those hip deep in crime and other unsavory activities.

Don't get me started. 

I would like to see true gun control that would allow folks to protect themselves in their homes but would smack them hard if they shoot somebody in the mall.

I want balance. I want fairness that doesn't involve allegiance to a political party or rhetoric.

In reality this is about grown men slinging their metaphorical dicks back and forth trying to show who has the power or the power of revenge.

Because if we really meant what we say about protecting our children we'd get to work and bring our solutions to the table.

Peacefully.

Respectfully.

And like the mythical cry and wail about gun control,  that ain't gonna happen.

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I Know What A Rutabaga Is Dang It!

I am encountering people perceiving me as less than competent when my grey hair is exposed.

That I am no spring chicken.
That I am nearing my expiration date in terms of my opinions and social relevance.
That I am out of shape and it is too late to do anything about it.
That I have instantly become daft.

I was in the supermarket. I bought rutabagas.  Not turnips.

At checkout, the young man is looking up the vegetable he can enter the right code. I tell him it is a rutabaga.

"No, it is a turnip."

"It is a rutabega," I repeat.

"No, it's a turnip."

Now I could have stood in a busy supermarket arguing the point but I have learned that there are certain things your should not fight to the end of the line.

I could have yanked his behind over to the vegetable section where someone had put a sign that said rutabegas. I could have pulled out my smartphone and spent five minutes searching for a mobile photo of a rutabega.

No, I let the boy child ring it up as he pleased.

Let the record show that I know my vegetables and I did indeed buy a yellow rutabega.

Yes, I know that in some parts of the country both items are called the same things.

Not the point.

He judged the vegetable by the purple banding.
They are not quite the same, rutabages have a very strong taste.

We judge people by the externals.

This is not right.

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How Do You Explain Zardoz?

I didn't see the movie Zardoz when it was first released in 1974. I was deep in to Funkology 101 and although this movie was trippy my concerns were elsewhere. It is a challenging movie to try to explain.

I've been watching reviews of the movie by under 40 years of age people. With one exception most are straight up baffled and perplexed that such a movie was made.



If you have never seen the movie this is a three minute trailer. This is about as coherent as the movie gets. Personally, I deeply enjoy a man wearing a red tie-on diaper and thigh-high boots. The chest hair is an added bonus.
 
I'm not kidding. For me, seeing Sir Sean in that outfit is like payback for all the years I was subjected to photos of Raquel Welch standing crooked in the sand and Sophia Loren coming out of the water soaking wet.

I...um..yeah.

The movie, must focus on the movie.

What is it about? Well it is set in the future when the shizz is on the other side of the fan. You got grown men worshiping a giant rock who spews out guns to kill people known as the infestation.

You have a group of elite folks that live good and have powers but do nothing to help the poor bastards getting shot because the rock tells the men folks to kill.

The rock goes into no details about the fellas not using their joysticks.

You got pillaging. You have penises forcing themselves on any stray woman that they encounter.

You have Charlotte Ramping trying to invoke a science experiment. She is trying to get Sir Sean eroticized by showing him a video of women wrestling in mud.

You got old people. You got Apothetics. You have Sean licking some dudes hand. Crystals. Naked folks. Death.

Okay. I'm not doing a good job.

You could say it is an allegory on the faith hypocrisy of human beings, saying one thing and doing another. That everything is a contradiction because there are no rules. There isn't anyone in charge. There are Apathetics in degrees of consciousness. 

You could say this was a movie designed for people in late 1974 to watch in an altered state of being. Meaning, that when people could smoke in a movie theater they would "smoke.' If you were in the balcony of certain theaters and seated with a community of like minded souls you saw a whole different movie than if you watched straight.

This is one of the few movies that viewers could benefit from a good glass of wine, hard cider or three shots of Southern Comfort. Don't waste time on the cheap stuff. You need fortification to make it to the end.

For those of you on abstinence or working a program I would say have some of you favorite foods or a good blanket to make youself comfortable. It is a mind trip but remember; this time it really is the movie.

This is not a great movie. This is not necessarily a good movie. It isn't an out and out howler of a bad movie.

It is on that precious border line just shy of an functional Edward G. Wood movie. Zardoz had money. The budget was good, the sets were believable.

The story? There had to be an original source but what was done to it I do not know. If this wasn't the author's intent then somebody got rooked.

The script?  Technically there had to be one.

I would say that if you get the opportunity to watch the movie on a cold rain soaked night in bed you should certainly do so.

I would ask that you lower your expectations. Being open to what you see but don't try to make sense of it. It is not possible. Many have tried and have wept in tears from the pain.

Me, I might see the whole thing again one day. But then again, seeing it once can last a good long while.

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