Surprise!
As a public service, let’s examine popular fantasies about the utility of guns for self-defense, in case you’ve had just about all the common sense you can stand for one day.
Fact: Every martial artist learns that the ultimate weapon is Surprise, with which the most savage and well-armed individual can be overcome with a teaspoon, or a Round-Up latte, or a well-placed hatpin. It’s not for nothing that ninjas wear black and are sneaky.
Bad Guys know this. Unlike the plots of Old Westerns that shape the imaginary world of gun-nuts, they do not wear black hats or pre-announce High-Noon Show-downs with white-hatted gun-owners. Their prey is typically overcome by Surprise, which makes the shooting part a whole lot safer for Bad Guys.
So unless Mr. Homeowner has military-grade perimeter security (or a really good dog) to warn of trouble before it bursts through the door at 3:00 AM, and has his gun loaded and in hand (not in the gun-cabinet or tucked in the nightstand), he will be far too slow, if not totally paralyzed by the terror of the confrontation. As devotees of Old Western know well, the first person shot by Bad Guys crashing into the old homestead is the ol’ sod-buster fumbling for his gun.
Every gun, of course, comes with Surprise built-in by the manufacturer, especially for bored kids rummaging through the house, a spouse who drinks too much, a cheating lover, or on those occasions when life just seems too sad.
Americans love surprises and let’s face it: Few things are as surprising as “Bang! You’re Dead!” 30,000 + Surprises reported every year. Think “Santa,” on steroids.
Far fewer are reports of gun-wielding Good Guys fending off Bad Guys. On those relatively rare occasions when a gun is fired in self-defense, its owner is Surprised to learn that the presence of a dead body causes authorities to ask a bunch of surprisingly pointed questions that can turn one’s life upside down.
No one could have been more Surprised than George Zimmerman at how his self-defense gun changed his life, not to mention Trayvon Martin’s.
A Surprise waiting to happen – probably in Texas – is the Open Carrier Surprise. You know – the gun-nut who swaggers into Starbucks fondling his Glock or whatever, to show they have 2nd Amendment Rights and/or small penises. Not every place, mind you, but in states (like Texas) where it is legal to openly carry a rifle in public places.
To the average sane person, these are whack-jobs consumed by the fantasy of blazing shoot-outs with Bad Guys, wherein they heroically emerge unscathed from a hail of bullets, having saved dozens from an armed madman not unlike themselves.
One day soon, someone – a frightened kid or other sane person – will spot such a guy carrying a gun and instinctively yell, “Holy Sh*t!! He’s got a gun!” Hearing this, the startled gun-toter will instinctively crouch, scan the crowd, his moment of heroism at hand. Unbeknownst to him, Whack-job #2 is standing nearby, mindlessly scanning his cellphone. He, too, hears the shout and reflexively un-shoulders his AK-47, eyes frantically seeking The Threat.
Their eyes meet, and they both see the Evil that the NRA has prepared them for: “A Bad Guy With A Gun!” Bullets fly. People scream. Chaos reigns.
If there is any Justice, or a God in heaven, they will both be excellent marksmen.
