So “Sheriff” Jim Wilson is again confirming his high capacity for fecal matter retention, this time subtly questioning the need for ordinary citizens to participate in Super Scary paramilitary training and own any kind of MOLLE. From the fazeboogs:
Of course he doesn’t come out and say it, but he’s heavily implying that the only reason American gun owners buy ARs and ancillary gear is to play GI Joe at the range and take cosplay instagram pictures of each other. I won’t deny that there’s an element of that going on, but people questioning why we’d prepare for a rainy day gets on my nerves, doubly so when it comes from other gun owners we thought were nominally on our side of the barricades.
But to take Wilson more seriously than he deserves for a moment, why do we put in all this time, effort and money into preparing for an event we desperately hope never comes?
Some of us take seriously the idea that the thin veneer of civilization is laid upon a foundation of citizen-soldiers (not soldier-citizens), ordinary free men willing to go to war at the drop of a hat, a tradition that extends back from Colonial Minutemen to landed Frankish infantry to the Hoplites of the primordial Greek city-states.
Some of us believe that our current epoch of peace and plenty is not a new normal that we are entitled to, but a historical aberration that must be defended if it is to be enjoyed by our children.
Perhaps for no other reason than Fuck You, that’s why. Should we not try our hands at the guitar if we’re never going to join a band or go on tour? Should we not bother learning to paint if we’re never going to get your own exhibition? Simply learning a new skill makes our limited, finite existence in this world a richer, more rounded one even if we never have to put it to practical use. Spending a weekend and 1100 rounds learning to run the battle carbine with a bunch of like minded gentlemen whom I’d never met before (yet have continued to be in contact with afterwards) in 2008 was one of the most enjoyable, exhilarating experiences of my life and I’d go back in a second if I could find the time and money.
I fully expect to live my entire life without having to take up my rifle in anger, but at the same time I will maintain its condition, keep some support gear ready and hone my skills with it until the day I die. My doing so doesn’t cost Wilson a dime, makes me happy, and yet has the slim, improbable potential to save more lives than my own in the future. So what’s his problem? Maybe it sounded better in the original German.