Like many of us, Wayne LaPierre had no idea you could build a terror weapon out of a bit of scotch tape, a couple of rubber bands and an old pressure cooker (or was it a toaster oven?). “Well I’ll be damned,” said the head of the National Rifle Association, no doubt correctly.
Wayne’s second thought came just as automatically, if not as quickly. “I wonder,” Wayne thought, “what we at the NRA are doing to protect the right of all citizens under the Second Amendment to own and use double boilers and other terror weapons?”
Wayne became indignant. How many lives would have been saved this week if every runner in the Boston Marathon had been required to carry a small bomb in his or her backpack? When bombs are made criminal, only criminals have bombs, Wayne thought.
What should he do? Wayne asked himself. Well the first step was obvious. He must find yet another Democratic senator with fond memories of playing with bombs as a child. Not as hard as you’d think, Wayne chuckled. It’s amazing how memory can be jogged by a campaign contribution. And Wayne gave himself a well-deserved pat on the back. He was responsible for creating an atmosphere in which any statement about guns, pro or con, must be preceded by a tearful reminiscence of Mom using a rifle to slaughter bears out the kitchen window.
What would be the purpose of this Grandma-Moses-type panorama? To show people that bombs have a distinguished history and a rightful place among other weapons we are so proud of. Wayne thought of drones, America’s most recent contribution to the honor roll of weaponry. The bomb had its day, but now it must step aside. Wayne started to get weepy: Bombs and drones are as American as, as, as…well, Wayne could write the op-ed himself. In fact, he probably would have to write it himself. Old Senator blow-hard, whom he’d been saving for a rainy day, couldn’t write a passable op-ed piece if a gun was pointed at his head.
But this was a rainy day if ever there was one. Just think of the legislative nightmare that lies ahead: registration of bombs, limits on how many bombs one family could possess. Rules and regs, rules and regs. Just because the Constitution talks about a “well-regulated” militia, people have gotten the idea that the Second Amendment has something to do with a militia and that it has to be regulated. What poppycock! Of course, in a way, it’s Scalia’s fault, with all his damned-fool nonsense about strict construction and whatnot. Wayne had half a mind to stop the man’s check.
It’s not about hunting, the manly camaraderie, the beautiful stillness of the forest at dawn or any of that crap, Wayne thought. He wanted to scream: You don’t need a bomb to shoot a deer. You need a bomb to drop on the ATF asshole who comes to take your bomb away. Wayne realized that this was sort of a circular argument. But it was good enough for that old fool Charlton Heston, so it’s good enough for Wayne LaPierre. True, a crock pot is a bit harder to carry than a rifle, and probably easier to pry out of your cold, dead hands. But unless we fight for the freedom of all weapons to be owned by people who will love them, then every weapon is at risk.
Or something like that, Wayne thought.