Hey, my right-wing Chatty Cathys!
It’s me, Bubbles MacMillan, your uber-connected right-wing gossip with some seriously juicy tidbits for you., as always. I have GOT to tell you something–but shhhhhh! You can’t tell anyone else! Lean in close!
As I write this column of useless garbage that adds unhelpful chatter to the great wide ether, failing to do anything substantive or salutary for the sad lot of humanity in 2018. a Latina domestic that I’m paying under the table because she’s undocumented and…uh, she’s wait and has a valid U.S. passport! Moving on! Anyhow, my white-as-snow housekeeper who I provide with health and dental, and my financier hubby advises on putting away money for her retirement-age nest egg–well, she’s applying fresh dressing to a wound I suffered on my foot. I’ve been itching–and not the kind of torturous itching that materializes under a bandage, feeling like maggots are infesting it below the diaphonously layered bandage-surface. No, not that kind. Instead, I’ve been itching to tell you how and where I got this. Someone accidentally shot me in the foot at GunCon2018. I don’t have to tell you, my whiplash-from-the-force-of-a-bullet-in-one-cheek-and-out-the-other smart Spread Your Right Wings (SYRW) readers, that this is a rite of passage for every proud, proud–of what exactly we’re not sure–proud gun owner. Anyway, let’s talk gun-gossip, shall we?
The reason this amounts to gossip, dear readers, is because it was a private gun show, by invite only!
Related: What to wear to have your vote suppressed.
Step Right Up…and Then Immediately Down Into a Moral Abyss
The first booth that caught my eye–and apparently that of many of my gun-loving countrymen, many of whom only have one eye because the other was shot off in a firearm-related fiasco–was the Educational Edifice Bullet-Insertion booth. In case it wasn’t obvious, my dear readers, that was a booth all about school shootings: why they’re sometimes necessary, how to do them–and in the most not-tedious-and-idiotic right-wing gun-ownership defense–how guns play no part in them. If they did (which they don’t, to be clear), one need only call this amazing company, Glocks Against Jocks, which provide guns to angry, disaffected young people looking to get revenge on the cool kids who bullied by indiscriminately murdering their fellow students, teachers, and administrators using guns. How can the Liberal Loonies not see that these people are doing God’s work, I ask you?
Might Is Right
It just might be, no SYRW readers? Obviously, the answer I’m looking for there is, “Yes.” And I’m going to get what I’m looking for, I know, because we’re a bunch of whack jobs idiots who argue that mass stabbings are as likely as mass shooting even though none has ever happened in the history of knives, which is a history almost longer than that of homo sapiens.
Next up in the parade of proud depravity on display inside the sweaty, garishly-lit warehouse in Boondoggle, Mississippi, the town lucky enough to host this collection of simpletons in food-stained tee-shirts was the Gun Rights for Whites booth. The whole idea behind this booth is White Gun Advocacy, a movement you should know about if you don’t already. It’s the latest in the right’s desperate, endless attempts to ensure that guns spread like a virulent case of gum disease across our great nation! Lately, the left is trying to convince people to support laws restricting gun ownership because communities of color are disproportionately affected by gun violence and–get this–they care about communities of color. What will they think of next, right? Well, we’re one step behind–I mean, “ahead”–of them, our side is. We say, “If these ‘communities of color’ can’t use guns responsibly, then they shouldn’t have them. Absolutely! But we whites should, because we can use them responsibly, i.e., to murder animals for “fun;” guard against the government in our paranoid, egomaniacal fantasy of a federal-government-takeover of our homes for reasons we’ve never fully made clear, and keep our women in line!
And: Design ideas based on Jared Diamond’s Guns, Germs, and Steel: the Fates of Human Societies.
Bam Bam Bambi
Speaking of sadistic murder passed off as a hobby, what of hunting? The next fantastic booth at this convention of a morality so golden, and kindness so big-hearted, and a generosity so deep-pocketed that…well, nevermind. The next booth I approached, with a mild curiosity that blossomed into rapturous joy was the Bye Bye Bambi booth. It was all about how the act of hunting and the rights of hunters need protection and why this is so. In that vein, I ask the Pinko Commies trying to take our guns away, if you do rob of us our murder weapons, what will become of the brave, license-to-serial-killers known as hunters?They’re out risking their lives every day to keep deer populations in check–populations that are out of control because of poor environmental policy by humans, And this is how we treat them? By painting them to be villains and cretins simply because they’ve made a weirdly culturally-sanctioned barbarism into a hobby, and therefore are no better than serial killers who get a societal stamp of approval for their morally repugnant pastime-choice? You say they might try Parcheesi instead? Where do the suffering, thrill of power, of holding another being’s life in your hand, of feeling almost intoxicated as you watch it slip away–where does all that good stuff come in? Hm?
Back to Patching and Sewing
Watch it, Concepcion–that stings! One more rubbing-alcohol-related misstep and you’ll be weaving sombre…I mean, uh, “Do be careful there, Clara, my good woman. The salve your using to clean my reattached-toe wound tends to smart a little, not that I blame you for this mishap in any way!” Isn’t it splendid how when the hired help enters not just your home but your heart, becoming a member of the family, cherished and adored? I sure think it does. Anyhow, while you digest all that I’ve apprised you of above–and then take a chalky, foul-tasting stomach remedy because it’s all really disgusting stuff I’ve filled you in on and you’ve filled up on–I’m going to continue treating with dignity and respect–not to mention providing with a wage much higher than she’d be getting in her home country–my very, very white and valid, government-issued-ID-having home-based assistant whom I consider my equal in every way.
Until next week, SYRW readers, remember: you didn’t hear this from me!
Also: Make some Steaks for Stakeholder meals!
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