Mo' Gun, Fewer Problem

I found this on my flash drive. It's a persuasive paper I wrote for my college English class last semester. I thought it was kind of funny.



As long as fire-arms have existed, there too has existed a certain breed of person who, for one reason or another, seeks to ruin everyone else's gun totin' fun. Criminals (or even the occasional gun wielding lunatic) have convinced much of America that guns are the root of a lot of the violent occurrences in our country, and as a result, several attempts have been made at making the guns themselves more difficult to obtain. While this may be at first construed by bystanders (and even the people responsible for the movements themselves) as a genuine attempt to protect the innocent people of our freedom loving land, it is entirely possible that these movements are hindering more than they are helping.

Let us imagine, if only for a moment, an America where "Guns are outlawed," and, "Only outlaws have guns."
One morning a robbery occurs, the clerk at the convince store has no means by which to defend himself, and when the gun is drawn, the customers simply cower behind the shelves. By the time the police arrive (as the clerk has pushed the silent alarm button) the robber has made a clean get away.

Now, let us imagine this same scenario, but instead of helpless customers and clerks, let us imagine a world where a hand-gun is general issue for not only the persecuted Convenience store clerk, but every US citizen (and their grandmother).

The robber walks and draws his weapon. The clerk startled reaches for his but is too late. The robber has his pointed at him. As the robber demands the money he hears several clicks from behind him. He turns slowly to see three customers standing behind him, weapons drawn. Startled, and without much more of an option, the robber raises his hands and is forced to wait until the police arrive, whereupon he is given into their custody.

Now, some would argue that if everyone had a weapon violent crime would increase based solely on the fact that the ability to commit one would be much more readily available, but I say nay. Secure in the knowledge that everyone everywhere could "Bust a cap" in their "fanny" violent criminals would most probably decide better of whatever plan they had, and even if the criminal has a death wish, with every citizen now a dubiously trained murder-machine, his wish will most assuredly be granted.
With criminals (hopefully) thinking better of their plans violent crime will drop off entirely.


Ended kind of abruptly didn't it. I actually got a pretty good grade on this.

I'm not happy with this paper, actually. I admit I wrote it kind of hastily, but you dear reader, get the un-edited version. No matter how unfit for consumption it may be. And do you know why? It's because I care!

I Want to Ride My Bicycle

I busted out the bicycle today. "Busting out" referring to the lengthy and frustrating process of dragging it out of the storage room and up the stairs out of the basement. We have open stairs and the ceiling is low above them, when I turned the handle bars to get them to stop getting caught on the ceiling the tire of the bike slid in between the steps. After several minutes of what I consider a series of very creatively constructed expletives such as "COCKING SHIT" I finally got the damned vehicle up the stairs and collapsed.

Biking itself is a means of saving money. I've got to start paying rent soon, and now seems like as good a time as any to start being frugal. Of course, my free-wheeling lifestyle was supported in my early days by my parents being obligated to keep a roof over my head, but as I leave the nest (so to speak) I'm realizing that my spending habits need to be cut back a bit. Hence the bike. Pedaling around town will hopefully save me some scratch so I can get to places of necessity as well as keep up on the important things like vidya gaems and comic books. You know. The essentials.

At any rate, for those of you who haven't ridden a bike in a while, let me tell you first hand that it's no cake walk. Pedaling utilizes muscles I haven't thought about in ages, much less actively used. Because of this, one inexperienced with this method of transport will find that the transition between "Hey, this is kind of fun" and "Oh, god I'm going to die" not only comes up quickly, but happens without warning.

Even now, easily eight hours after my quarter-mile (potentially less) ride to my father's house, I ache in my legs. Remember when you were a kid and you stayed up too late? You're limbs started to hurt? If you asked my mother about it, she'd tell you that this was the cause of your body growing, something it does at night when you're supposed to be asleep.

Maybe I'm finally getting taller.

-The Management