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Speaking Of Ranges

The Gun Thing

Went shooting with the Son&Heir last Sunday morning, both to have some quality father-son time and to remind myself that I need to shoot more (because I really don’t like being humiliated at the range).

As always, his one-handed groups were about 50% tighter than my two-handed groupings grrr grrrr grrrrr  so clearly MOAR PRACTICE is needed.  Then he switched from the High Power to his little Marlin .22 rifle, clucking that he was only able to produce 1″-2″ groups at 25 yards… shooting offhand, with iron sights.  (He thinks scopes are “cheating” — we’ll see how he feels when his eyes start to age.)

Anyway, the point of this post is to tell my North Texas Readers about an excellent little range in Lewisville, on the southbound frontage road of I-35 just south of Corporate Drive.  It’s called Shoot Point Blank, and it’s much better than the large, impersonal corporate ranges that seem to be springing up all over the place nowadays.  The staff are friendly and knowledgeable, and the 20-bay range itself is great:  no-frills lanes (a single rocker switch to move the target clip to and from the bench instead of those pointless computerized gadgets which break down all the time), and a shelf underneath the bench itself to stow bags and such.

Oh, and there was a stainless Springfield 1911 which had us both drooling.  (S&H tried the trigger of that Springfield, a Colt Government and a CZ 97, and pronounced the Springfield to be the best.)

There seem to be a bunch of these ranges springing up all over the country (scroll down), so if one’s anywhere near you, give it a try.

I will be back to this one.  Often.

Okay, Boss

Crime, Marxists

At last, a law enforcement officer with balls:

Polk County Florida Sheriff Grady Judd is recommending armed residents in his county blow looters “back out of the house.”
Fox 13 reported that Judd saw social media “rumblings” suggesting that riotous behavior could strike Polk County. He warned anyone who was planning such behavior in his county, saying:
“If you value your life, they probably shouldn’t do that in Polk County. Because the people of Polk County like guns, they have guns, I encourage them to own guns, and they’re going to be in their homes tonight with their guns loaded, and if you try to break into their homes to steal, to set fires, I’m highly recommending they blow you back out of the house with their guns. So, leave the community alone.”

Can’t put it more plainly than that.

And far be it for us citizens to disobey a law enforcement recommendation, right?  (I know, I’m in Collin County TX not Polk County FL, but I suspect that our sheriff probably has similar views.)

Like I said yesterday, at some time We The People are not going to care anymore — and when that happens…

Blithering Idiots

Gummint, Mocking Furriners

Here’s a priceless piece of governmental stupidity:

It is, as they say nowadays, to LOL.

The question thus begged, especially with the ban on extra-domicile sex, is of course:  how the FUCK are you going to enforce all that?

All this nonsense is just clear evidence of government bureaucrats having too much time on their hands, to be able to come up with all these nitpicking stupid rules.

And for those who think we Murkins are much better than that, I invite you to peruse the federal tax code sometime.

Except that the godless fucking I.R.S. is quite capable of, and quite prepared to enforce every last little clause and sub-clause, the fuckers.

The rioters on both sides of the Atlantic are burning the wrong buildings.

Breaking Point?

Marxists

Heather Mac Donald, as usual, does the best analysis of the current situation in our cities:

Savagery is spreading with lightning speed across the United States, with murderous assaults on police officers and civilians and the ecstatic annihilation of businesses and symbols of the state. Welcome to a real civilization-destroying pandemic, one that makes the recent saccharine exhortations to “stay safe” and the deployment of police officers to enforce outdoor mask-wearing seem like decadent bagatelles.

And:

This pandemic of civil violence is more widespread than anything seen during the Black Lives Matter movement of the Obama years, and it will likely have an even deadlier toll on law enforcement officers than the targeted assassinations we saw from 2014 onward. It’s worse this time because the country has absorbed another five years of academically inspired racial victimology. From Ta-Nehisi Coates to the New York Times’s 1619 project, the constant narrative about America’s endemic white supremacy and its deliberate destruction of the “black body” has been thoroughly injected into the political bloodstream.
…
Once the violence began, any effort to “understand” it should have stopped, since that understanding is inevitably exculpatory. The looters are not grieving over the stomach-churning arrest and death of George Floyd; they are having the time of their lives. You don’t protest or mourn a victim by stealing oxycontin, electronics, jewelry, and sneakers.

So, given that the government is proving itself to be a bunch of craven cowards who are unwilling to keep the peace and enforce the law, will we see more of this?  (First pic via Reader Ignore Amos and the second from Reader Old Texan.)

And so far — so far — nobody’s dropped the hammer (at least, not on our side).  At some point, however, this may change.

The only problem is that this is precisely what these pricks want:  martyrs to the Cause.  So by throwing down on these anarchists, Marxists and looters, we’d be playing into their hands.

At some point however, and I suspect we may be fast approaching that point, nobody’s going to care about that.  And then:

Then, martyrs will not be a problem.  They’ll have plenty.  In the meantime, however:

And:

It may be time to start getting serious around here…

Bloat

Food & Drink

In this case, I’m not talking about government bloat, but my own.  This fucking pointless lockdown caused by the Chinkvirus has quite enfattened me, not so much because of what I’ve been eating — okay, not that much — but because our gym has been closed for the past three months by our timorous apartment management.

I hate strolling, unless to a pub — but as the pubs have been closed as well, even that has been denied me.  AND we’re starting to approach the annual Texas Broil a.k.a. summer, so the desire to walk outside is lessened yet more.  Which means that New Wife has put her foot down and decreed that we will now be entering a period of No Sugar And Only Healthy Foods.  Fuck.

My coffee tastes like hot, rancid bilgewater and I can only imagine what weeks of salads and such are going to do to my already-tenuous control of my temper.  And I know, I know:

Me too.

I think I’ll just have to spend a lot more time at the range.  Which reminds me, I need to lay in a little more ammo, because reasons.

Close At Hand

The Gun Thing

I read this story over the weekend with a great deal of sadness, coupled with rage:

An angler has died after yobs allegedly pelted him with rocks using a catapult as he fished with his two brothers in a boat on a lake at a 15th century castle.
Charles Hilder, 66, from Romford, Essex, died in the grounds of Lullingstone Castle in Eynsford, Kent, following the attack at 5pm yesterday by the yobs who were stood on a bank.
…
It comes as locals and MPs claimed the area had been under siege from yobs in recent weeks with some threatening people and even trying to steal a woman’s dog.

Clearly, the Brits need to pass legislation outlawing catapults (Seffrican: catties ;  Murkin:  slingshots) like these:

And we won’t even talk about those eeevil “assault” slingshots made with triple rubber pulls, wrist-braces and carbon-fiber Y-frames.

I mean, nobody needs a triple-pulled slingshot with a wrist-brace, amirite?  [/sarc]

I think I’ve told the story about a man I know who in addition to carrying a handgun when out in public, has over the years also acquired about ten or more Ruger SP101 hammerless short-barreled revolvers, all chambered in .357 Mag, and he scatters them all over his place:  bedside, living room, garage, bathroom, car, wherever.  He also has one stashed in his toolbox and another in his fishing tackle box.

When I asked him why the tackle- and toolboxes, he replied simply:  “Because bad things can happen anywhere, and working in my garage and fishing out in the boonies is where I’m most vulnerable.”

Of course, that makes all sorts of sense.  It doesn’t help our British cousins (and the unlucky old guy above), because they’ve voted away their right to own handguns and their right to self-defense.  But for us Murkins, it’s a cautionary word to the wise.

Never be too far away from the means to protect yourself.

By the way:  that Kainokai triple-pull sling looks awful.  To the surprise of absolutely nobody, I prefer the more traditionally-styled Lodonc:

Wood and steel, baby;  if it works for a 1911, it’ll work for a damn slingshot.