Once
again, the serenity of the new day highlighted by hangover moon-shadows at dawn’s
approach invites the trials and tribulations of the “Killing Fields”. See, we
don’t instill “respect” with respect to teaching our kids the value of respect
in hunting. Yes, dressing up in dragnet in a Cabela’s costume to
outwit the wild along with mini-might shotguns, hitting the rice patties during
a Saturday morning outing - no girls allowed. As I sip my morning coffee, it is
the day after that finds reason to believe that killing of innocent flyovers has
nothing to do with respect due respect what was once an effect of that cause,
but for a carryover of the “mental mindset” that disengages reality. See, it is
fall and the rice fields already invaded of the “paying” crop finds a feeding frensy
“hunting” grounds for the geese returning from up North, many flying south from
Alaska after feeding for months in the midnight sun fire-weed fields outside of
Fairbanks and along the Yukon River. A long journey and these rice patty
retreats offer up for grabs a safe haven until dawn, when the blast away ricochet
shaves away the quiet of the early morning mystique. A constant barrage of
shoot at anything that flies by, no selective harvesting, just a mean-spirited
way to get the thrill of shooting off releasing social anger. That is what
wannabe “Elmer Hunter” dads are teaching their kids. And with that kind of
foolishness, the retrieval of the injured and dead is a small percentage of
what has fallen victim to this assassination, as it is not the hunting sensation
but the killing fascination. A “bang”
and the sky is falling! And the waste not want wanton waste laws, it used to be
a law but in today’s don’t give a rat’s ass about “respect”, merely an out-of-site
out-of-mine mind ritual of behavior unbecoming a true-grit American. I used to
hunt, no more as I left that ambition behind when I migrated south from Alaska.
Oh, also to mention the fuzz took away my guns. See, I worked for this guy that
maintained a “bullet to the head” hiring and firing personality and down
Californicate way, there exists some strange rules of the road with that
employer and employee relationship - basically if you are the bread winner you
are fucked. And this guy made it well off, because of that Section 8A benefit,
wherein “Big Corporations” hire these 2-bit outfits to meet that government “quota”
so the “Big Guys” can bargain in good faith lucrative government contracts. See,
I was at a project for this guy and one of his miscalculating miniscule brain engineers
logged into the site from a remote location - his bedroom - and decided he
needed some 4th of July fireworks and started energizing equipment
that had a nameplate rating of 12000-volts and another guy was almost killed.
And since I was the only one on board, I received the “bullet to the head” and
was terminated and in California you can be “terminated” for nothing. So before
I was given the “Notice of Termination” I arrive home to the airport and can’t get
my car out of hock, because the guy pulled my credentials and I almost got
arrested for trying to use a company credit card that had been cancelled. Out of
work and denied “unemployment” benefits because the jerk said I quit, with
nothing better to do with my spare time I kept re-applying for my “old” job which
upset his big tattoo-titted Botox wife and then the jerk’s lawyer convinced a
judge without a jury that was the reason the wife’s caked on makeup kept
falling off and I was slapped with a “Restraining Order”. See, in California
the courts give out “Protection Orders” easier then taking candy from a baby. So
that “restraint” places your guns in jeopardy. To be perfectly clear, I don’t
need guns! Anyway, on the issue upon waste of wild game just to blast away the
peace, quiet, dignity and sanctuary of a species that was just trying to rest after
a long journey home, I was the friend of an Athabaskan up in Alaska. When the
fishing was good, which was all the time in and around Valdez until Charles
Hamel diverted the EXXON Valdez hard aground into “Bligh Reef”…anyway Gwich’in Frank
would retrieve all the salmon heads and tails being discarded by the “Great
White Hunters” and make a delicatessen like staple called “stink-head”. OK, the
name is a turnoff, but close your eyes hold your nose, the taste is a godsend
and it is a magic “aphrodisiac”. Hey, native Americans had many secrets that
were never passed on to the “White Man” because we reneged on diplomacy and no
different then how “hunting” has been tarnished by this 2nd
Amendment “madness”! Rape is rape, the
problem we are teaching that bad habit way to early with our youngsters! Look,
nobody is going to take away that gun…think twice as Donald Jong-Thong Trump
can call to duty that “Well Regulated Militia” with a single phone call from
Vladismear Putin. Anyway, on Sunday morning it is when the fallout of the “hunt”
disturbs, the smell of powder by this time vaporized - but it is when the
injured, when the orphaned try to comprehend what the hell is going on. Like
being defeathered by muzzle blasts and flying to safety no longer the
preferential retreat now in the crosshairs of harm’s way. When brothers of the
winged and sisters of the winged are no longer part of the flock’s once healthy
headcount, when the worried and disgruntled goes about looking for their once winged
relatives and it is no longer a happy song. Floaters? No not human turds but dead
bodies in the abyss. A sad song it is, not like is heard when the mighty flocks
“V-line” it in a mighty procession in grandeur. IMAGINE, so excited after such
a long journey only to me mowed down in a “Tommy Gun” ambush fashion with that
dad yelling at the young lad “dam it pull that trigger don’t wait to see the
white of their…” Look, hunting is and will always be a “Great American” pastime
and not a sport mind you, but the respect as I learned all about it in my youth
engaged in camouflage in the fields of Maine, it’s gone as that respect was hijacked
by the NRA and other outdoor comedians that displays hunting only as a means to
support the 2nd Amendment. The sad thing, where in hell does that “Right”
ever talk about a “hunting right”? It doesn’t and that is why the “Killing
Fields” of today finds a despicable following as to “Kill” just to “Kill” to
show-off respect for a “right” over the respect for a creature of the Creator,
it is not an American heritage but an American betrayal and the skies filled
with the cry of the wild, not the call of the wild. The NRA sucks, but what do
you expect with once a “Turncoat” at the helm that this once iconic American
stood for, that Oliver North. See, Oliver got himself in trouble and was hit
with a “16 felony” indictment. Even though those charges were dropped due
something and for some reason still not understood today with a modern
non-corrupt “judicial system”…look it is all about respect. If I have a felony
of record, if I committed a felony, I cannot own a gun, I cannot hunt with
powder and I cannot run for a seat in Congress. Oliver knew he was guilty, that’s
my point and when he became the NRA boss, it was out of disrespect and time to
tear-up that membership - as guilty by association was not my preference. So
what, as RESPECT is but for a suggestion only and we teach our kids that committing
crimes is OK and the odds are that if you are not a minority, then you may find
that “Get Out of Jail Free” card for the most heinous of crimes including
letting baby geese die in pain, just to enjoy that pain controlled by that “happy”
trigger and it is no different then the shrapnel of an 8A abuser. We are
surrounded by filth and the “Killing Fields” advertising an “Open for Business”
sign “Trespassers Welcome” and instead of the screech of owls more like howls
of a death grip because too many think that is “Free Speech” and mind you the 1st
before the 2nd finds grounds for the “bullet” silencing the “Right
to Behave”!
S.
Pam McGee - General Cogsel of the Lousy Hat Solidarity Party
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