KodeTen pointed out the utter lunacy of this solipsistic woman and her steely determination. Why, Margaret Thatcher will have to rise from the grave and admit that she is no longer worthy of the lofty title Iron Lady. Certainly, Miss Yewman, whom I presume is not married (if I’m in error, I advise the husband to flee in the face of overwhelming cuntwagonry), has demonstrated her ability to face the deepest phobias present in the human psyche.

Yes, she deigned to exercise her Second Amendment rights to own a firearm. The pure, unmitigated horror.

Solipsism manifests itself in a variety of ways, but none so egregious as the autobiography of a woman making the ultimate sacrifice: doing something vaguely unpleasant. The article begins with the usual excuses and emotional diatribes. Miss Yewman wants you to know she lost a former basketball coach at Columbine, thus rendering her views on ownership of guns as sacrosanct. After all, she was a victim, and in the Church of Leftism, nothing is as sacred as one’s ironclad status as a member of the oppressed masses.

There are some vague citations of the Brady campaign and a variety of other typical Leftist agitprop cloaked as “common sense”, and then Miss Yewman began her grand experiment. She begins with this little gem:

I was appalled at how easy it was for me to get a gun without a single second of training, and I wrote four articles about it. Over 30 days, I followed four rules:carry it with me at all times; follow the laws of my state; only do what is minimally required for permits, licensing, purchasing, and carrying; and finally be prepared to use it for protecting myself at home or in public.

Leftism has hatched a near-infinite number of delusions since it began to plague Western Civilization, but none so utterly ridiculous as the concept of mandatory training as a catch-all for curing terminal stupidity. This is the same general category as diversification training and those pointless driving tests one has to suffer through after a receiving speeding ticket. Are they at all useful? Certainly, if you are going to buy a gun, you would be well-advised to learn how to use it. Yet, Americans have gotten along well enough throughout their history without a firearm training requirement. Generally speaking, the sensible individuals will seek out training on their own, and those without that sort of sensibility will not be helped by it in the first place.

Ms. Magazine ran my initial post on the experience on June 12. More than 2,000 commenters responded to that article—most of them angry gun-rights advocates saying how stupid I was; one even suggested that I put the gun in my mouth. Most of them missed the point entirely: the experiment was designed to show how easy it is to obtain a gun without being required to know how to use it.

Considering that gun-rights advocates are likely to have firearms themselves, I am quite sure they already have some idea of the difficulty (or lack thereof) in obtaining a weapon. For all the hype and irrational fear, the gun is a very simple device which even the most primitive sort of intellect can wrap their mind around. Certainly child soldiers in third-world toilets have no need of extensive mental preparation to understand the operation of a firearm. Still, I will grant Miss Yewman that developing good habits with firearms is essential.

When I was younger, my father demonstrated the proper method of unloading a semi-automatic handgun. Eject the magazine, pull back the slide twice. Once for you, he would tell me, and once for the gun. We did this together a few times, so that I would develop good habits. There were other habitual actions that, truly, were simply common sense executed frequently enough to become automatic behavior. Never point the weapon at anything you don’t want a neat little hole in. Secure the weapon properly when in the company of others. None of this is rocket science, and a government test will not instill this sort of behavior because it is learned by repetition not by conscious thought. Nobody who has an accident with a gun thought the thing was loaded. Or, rather, if they did then our gene pool is probably better off without their contribution.

For those without a gun-owning military parent, the local gun range is a great place to go to develop good habits. Generally speaking, the range operators will help you if they see you doing anything wrong. Simply by going to a range frequently and talking with other gun owners, one will develop those automatic behaviors in due time. Miss Yewman, of course, did not avail herself of this opportunity. Why would she associate with those neanderthal troglodyte firearm enthusiasts?

I put my purse on the counter and then spent the next hour out on the back deck. Walking into the kitchen to refresh our drinks, I noticed my purse with the 9mm Glock still inside it. I’d forgotten to lock it up! Panic set in as I realized my teen son was playing videogames just 10 feet away. What if he’d decided to get the socks I’d bought him from my purse while I was out on the deck? Thoughts raced through my mind and I pondered how I’d just straddled the fine line between being a responsible gun owner and an irresponsible idiot whose 15-year-old just accidentally shot himself or someone else with my gun.

Miss Yewman probably leaves her car outside and her keys in the purse too. Could the teenager go on a joyride and get himself killed? In my own family, guns were no big deal. My father showed me where he kept them. Of course, if I touched one without permission, unpleasant things were destined to happen to me, but that went for the lemon cookies he kept in the corner of the cabinet too. In fact, the penalty probably would have been greater for the cookies. I could be trusted with the firearm whereas anything containing high amounts of sugar was entirely unsafe in my presence. There was no culture of fear. I knew where he kept the chainsaw and the tractor, too, but I didn’t care. You see, the gun wasn’t anything special in my own family. It was a tool, not some mysterious, tantalizing device to be fearful of and attract the attention of rebellious teens. I had more interesting things to do than mess with the firearms.

A gun in a home is 43 times more likely to be used to kill a family member than kill someone in self-defense. With over 200 million guns in our country, most in our homes, it’s no wonder that over 19,000 people in America die from suicide and accidental death by a gun every year. So I decided to keep the gun in a locked safe when I was home. But that didn’t seem to soften my worry and overall anxiousness.

Leftism loves these sorts of statistics, because they sound scary to those of middling intelligence. Yet, let’s dissect this “43 times more likely” statistic. This omits the defensive uses that did not result in death. Larry Elder in his book Ten Things You Can’t Say In America cites over 2 million annual uses of guns in self-defense, where the defender only brandished the weapon. Most of the time the simple display of a firearm is enough to convince the miscreant to look elsewhere for trouble. I have never killed anyone in self-defense, but twice I have brandished a firearm in a defensive manner. So it is reasonable to assume that most deaths would be from insanity, accident or suicide, rather than assaults. Those sorts of incidents generally affect the family. That in no way diminishes the importance of the gun as a defensive tool.

The second statistic combines suicide and accidental deaths. When I clicked her citation, I got this data:

  • 18,783 people kill themselves.
  • 584 people are killed accidentally

That puts a different spin on things, doesn’t it? Japan has a similar suicide rate per capita as America does. Yet in Japan it is nearly impossible to obtain a firearm. There are other easy methods of suicide, such as sleeping pills, jumping off buildings, etc… The gun may be a first choice for many, but we cannot assume that eliminating the gun would deter them from other methods. Now, 584 deaths by accidental discharge would mean one out of every 171, 232 gun owners dies by accidental discharge. One. Out of over one-hundred thousand. Honestly, I expected the data to be worse. Anyone who knows me well understands that I do not tend to think highly of the intelligence of your average citizen. Yet the data comes from her own citation.

Sometimes the thoughts intensify and I can’t sleep at all. Mostly, the gun in my house causes me an anxiousness and fear that’s draining. And it leads to some questions that have no easy answers.

Beyond the solipsistic expectation that we should pity her, this strikes me as the worst sort of trite rhetoric. My Mossberg 500 12 gauge is laid out under the bed for quick and easy access should I require it. Personally, I sleep better knowing any goblin idiotic enough to break into my home, escape my dog’s teeth and clamber into my bedroom will likely leave it in a body bag.

Since having the gun I’ve had two repairmen, a carpet cleaner, and a salesmen in my home. If the gun’s for self-protection, it’s not going to do any good in the safe, but it’s not really practical to have the gun pointing at them as they work. How else would I eliminate the element of surprise if I were attacked? Suspiciousness and fear of people is new to me, and I don’t like it.

Considering Miss Yewman likely lives in a lily-white gated community in the suburbs, the likelihood of a spontaneous assault from the local carpet cleaner is rather low. Still, there’s no reason she couldn’t simply carry the weapon concealed if it really bothered her that much. I wonder if the poor mother living in the ghetto, who has a real reason to fear most people in her neighborhood, would appreciate being denied her Second Amendment rights because a delusional feminist from the suburbs has an irrational fear of home service professionals.

Nobody knew I had it on me, but it made me suspicious of everyone. Like a Secret Service agent working a rope line, I instinctively looked at everyone’s waistline to see who else was packing heat.

Has she watched too many James Bond movies? Miss Yewman reveals her utter lunacy here. To a man carrying his weapon consistently, the gun does not suddenly reveal fantasies of being a Secret Service agent while he is perusing the grocery store in search of breakfast cereals.

I thought the gun would make me feel more powerful, more confident, and less fearful. I was wrong. All I felt was fear. Physically taking the gun out of the safe and putting it in a holster on my hip literally reminded me that I was going out into a big bad scary unsafe world.

And this is why women in front-line positions in the military bothers me. While it is possible some Amazonian wonder woman might possess some truly remarkable combat abilities, this would be a statistical outlier. Biology tells us that females are wired differently, and no where is it so apparent as it is in this quote. When I carry my weapon around, I don’t feel like some Secret Service agent, nor am I fearful about the big bad scary world. Instead, it’s comforting simply knowing that I have a good chance of coming out on top should a confrontation arise. I may be wrong. Death could be looming around the corner, but tomorrow I could have a heart attack or be crushed by a bus. At some point, a man has to make peace with the nature of a world which does not revolve around him and his irrational fears.

Miss Yewman, on the other hand, never will. Stay in your lily-white gated community and keep your hands out of my holster. Both of them.

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