Greetings again, fellow port swillers!

Ol’ Robbo is delighted that the big 2nd Amendment Rally down in Richmond today went off without incident.  To be honest, I had had some very real concerns that trouble would develop,  and that our despicable Governor (whether he was in on planning such trouble or not) would take advantage of it to push for even more draconian gun laws.

Sucks to you, Mr. Northam.

I may be very Pollyanna-ish in this, but I refuse to believe the Great Commonwealth of Virginny has been altogether lost to Leftist assimilation.  It’s very true that we are a purple-to-blue state, but I believe that most of that is due to the Big Gub’mint voters of the Dee Cee burbs.  So far as I can tell, these people, or some percentage of them at any rate, are Democrat Establishment types, not social justice warriors.  A freak combination of factors put a lot of the latter into federal and state office in ’18 and ’19.  I would not be surprised if there weren’t something of a backlash this year.

Of course, it would help if the GOP had some kind of intelligent and enthusiastic presence.  Yeah, I know.

As far as guns themselves go?  Well, Ol’ Robbo learned to shoot when he was seven**, so there is no mystique about them to me, and I can at least approach the 2nd Amendment arguments, pro and con, about an armed citizenry, from a rational perspective.

On the other hand, my impression of most leftist foot-soldier types***  is that they approach it from a purely emotional standpoint.  (One colleague summed up her opposition to gun ownership on the grounds that they’re “icky”.)

Indeed, I’ve often said that there is nothing more dangerous to him- or herself than a liberal with a gun.  They fear them, they hate them, and therefore they don’t understand them.

My favorite anecdote illustrating this point:

Back in law school, we had a professor named Judy M.  She was a typical New England, Volvo-driving leftist, and was widely-known as “Punch-n’-Judy” because she was a neurotic twit.

Punch-n’-Judy taught a professional responsibility course which I and the Former Llama Military Correspondent took together.

One day the topic of discussion was “What do you do when a client comes into your office and says, ‘I just killed a guy, you gotta help me!'”

Punch-n’-Judy decided to illustrate this lesson with a handgun.  To this day, I don’t know if it was real.  I do know that it looked terribly realistic.

Because this was a largish class, it was held in one of the school’s big classrooms, an amphitheater arrangement with semi-circles of seats and desktops rising steadily away from the podium.

To emphasize her point, Punch-n’-Judy, down in the well of the classroom, picked up her pistol and started waiving it about enthusiastically, basically as an extension of her hand, and completely oblivious to the fact that the gorram barrel of the thing kept traversing up and down, over and across her students.

The temperature rose markedly.  Out of the corners of my eyes, I could see my classmates squirming down in their seats.  I squirmed, too.

Finally, the Former Llama Military Correspondent stood up, walked down to the front of the class, quietly removed the gun from Punch-n’-Judy’s hand, and said, “I think that’s enough.”

She just stared.

The class itself let out a collective sigh of relief.

Just so.

Anyhoo, as I say, I’m glad things went well today.


** My baptism, under the Old Gentleman’s guidance, was the traditional .22 shooting at tin cans on fence posts.  The next summah, I graduated to a Remington .222 at the rifle-range and was hunting with same that fall.  I learned  shotguns in my early teens and became a tolerably good skeet shooter, although I was never much of a wing-shot because of my rotten eyes.  To this day, I’ve never fired a pistol, although I would like to learn.  I also earnestly urge the Gels to learn this skill when they are legally able and will gladly spring for the cost of arming them up.

*** I distinguish the foot-soldier types.  They’re useful idiots.  The masterminds see the bigger picture:  A disarmed society can be manipulated that much more easily.  Which is why we have the 2nd Amendment in the first place.  (Duh!)  At a party once, I heard a feller, and older anti-gun Brit gent, praise German disarmament measures from the ’30’s.  Losing my cool, I actually said, “Those were the fookin’ Nazis, you idjit!!”  I fear we didn’t make friends.