Greetings Visionaries:<div><br></div><div>It's taken me a while to find my voice on this issue, but here it is. The full version filled up an entire page of the Feb. 5 issue of The Los Cabos Daily News, the Moscow-Pullman Daily New's totally unofficial sister paper. I hope that Murf will publish the 650-word version (very, very painful editing) for Palouse readers as well.</div>
<div><br></div><div>Instead of giving you the short version, I'm posting the full version in two parts. I'm usually just a "Just the Facts, Madam" writer, but I've resorted to satire and sarcasm for this one. For the few that can't wait or even care, the full version is attached.</div>
<div><br></div><div>Although I support universal, interstate background checks, no gun show loopholes, a ban on assault rifles, and a limit of 10-round magazines, we will need to address basic problems of our gun-crazed culture. </div>
<div><br></div><div>When I was hitch-hiking and climbing in the Swiss Alps in 1967, I was invited into a Swiss home for a snack. I remarked on the semi-automatic rifle standing in the corner of the room, and my host said that nearly every Swiss home had one. This guy also had enough explosives to blow up a local bridge if there were an invasion. </div>
<div><br></div><div>But here is the catch: the Swiss have a gun death rate of 3.84 per 100,000, but we kill at a rate of 10.2 per 100,000. Only some violent Latin American countries (where machismo reigns supreme) and Swaziland kill more.</div>
<div><br></div><div>The sub-titles for Part 2 are "The Final Straw (Bean?): Tofu and the Land of Hindu Effeminates," "Lederhosen, Kilts, Barbies, and Mounties," "Balance Yin and Yang for Less Bang," and "The Gun-Crazed Hermit of the Applegate."</div>
<div><br></div><div>Yours for a better balance of Yin and Yang,</div><div><br></div><div>Nick</div><div><br></div><div><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><b><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Georgia","serif"">The
Gun-Crazed Hermit of the Applegate:<br clear="all">
Chinese Philosophy, Machismo, and Gun Violence</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><b><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Georgia","serif""><br>
</span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><i><span style="font-size:12pt;line-height:115%;font-family:Georgia,serif">Guns may not kill people (on their own), but disaffected men</span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center">
<i><span style="font-size:12pt;line-height:115%;font-family:Georgia,serif">
with easy access to guns and little understanding of how to <br clear="all">
safely express their frustrations with the world certainly do.</span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><i><span style="font-size:12pt;line-height:115%;font-family:Georgia,serif"><br></span></i></p>
<h1 align="center" style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center;line-height:115%;background:white"><span style="font-size:12pt;line-height:115%;font-family:Georgia,serif;font-weight:normal">—</span><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Georgia","serif";color:#111111;font-weight:normal">Emma Gray, <i>The Huffington Post</i> (12/18/12)</span></h1>
<h1 align="center" style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:center;line-height:115%;background:white"><span style="font-size:12pt;line-height:115%;font-family:Georgia,serif"> </span></h1>
<p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center;background:white"><i><span style="font-size:12pt;line-height:115%;font-family:Georgia,serif">The school shooters and
domestic terrorists all exhibit male rage.
They <br clear="all">
attempt to resolve a crisis of masculinity through violent behavior,
demonstrate a fetish for guns or weapons, and
represent a situation of guys and guns amok.</span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center;background:white"><i><span style="font-size:12pt;line-height:115%;font-family:Georgia,serif"><br></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center;background:white"><i><span style="font-size:12pt;line-height:115%;font-family:Georgia,serif">—</span></i><span style="font-size:12pt;line-height:115%;font-family:Georgia,serif">Douglas Kellner, UCLA Professor of Education<i></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center;background:white"><span style="font-size:12pt;line-height:115%;font-family:Georgia,serif"><br></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><i><span style="font-size:12pt;line-height:115%;font-family:Georgia,serif">The things of the world carry Yin [female] <br clear="all">
on their backs, and embrace the Yang [male]. <br clear="all">
They exhaust their </span></i><span style="font-size:12pt;line-height:115%;font-family:Georgia,serif">qi <i>[cosmic energy] in harmony.</i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span style="font-size:12pt;line-height:115%;font-family:Georgia,serif"><i><br>
</i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span style="font-size:12pt;line-height:115%;font-family:Georgia,serif">—<i>Dao De Jing</i>, #42
(trans. Robert Eno)</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"><span style="font-size:12pt;line-height:115%;font-family:Georgia,serif"><br></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Georgia","serif""> It was the
summer of 1960, I was a naïve 16-year-old, and I was smitten. Even though a
family friend’s daughter had a mad crush on me, I had been seduced by something
even more alluring and far less complicated than teenage romance. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Georgia","serif""><br></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Georgia","serif""> <b>A Guy and His Gun: A Love Story</b></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Georgia","serif""><br></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Georgia","serif"">I had bought an army surplus
.30-06 Springfield rifle and I was in love. I spent many dollars on a new stock
and a 3 x 7 Bosch & Lomb scope. A gun smith had completely refurbished the
bolt action and barrel. There was a spring in my step when I picked up boxes of
army ammo at the Railway Express Station.
</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Georgia","serif""><br></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Georgia","serif"">The single shot .22 rifle that
my dad bought me when I was 12 was just a plinker. This army rifle made me feel
like a man for the first time. Instead
of having a picture of a girlfriend in my wallet, I had a picture of my
reblued, scoped rifle.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><b><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Georgia","serif""><br></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><b><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Georgia","serif"">The
Bushmaster Man Card</span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Georgia","serif""><br></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Georgia","serif"">According a two-year ad
campaign by Bushmaster, the maker of the AR-15 semi-automatic rifle, I was a
“card carrying man.” One of the
principal qualifications for getting your card is being able to stare down a
tough 5<sup>th</sup> grader. Adam Lanza started with first graders, but I’m
sure that he was still allowed to carry his Bushmaster Man Card.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Georgia","serif""><br></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Georgia","serif"">If I could have bought an M-1
Garand, the semi-automatic assault rifle of my gun-crazed days, perhaps I would
become even a greater male. But the real
men of today would be terribly disappointed with its 8-shot magazine. Today that unsuspecting deer, intruder, or
grade schooler must end up like Swiss cheese.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Georgia","serif""><br></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Georgia","serif"">The .30-06 was gun enough for me. There were lots of squirrels out at an
abandoned army base near my home town of Medford, Oregon. Not realizing the ricochet dangers, I shot up
dozens of boxes of ammo at the squirrels in the concrete foundations of
dismantled barracks. I don’t remember
killing a single animal, and I never became a good shot. That and my poor fly fishing skills have kept
my karmic debt fairly low. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Georgia","serif""><br></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Georgia","serif"">During my short hunting career
I was lucky enough to get two deer at very close range. The one buck was lame (I kid you not). One
chilly afternoon in Oregon’s Blue Mountains, I shot my first and only elk, a 500-pound
spike bull. I emptied my 5-round magazine
on him and I was amazed that he dropped.
All the machismo drained out of me, however, when I went over and shot
him in the head with my .22 revolver.
The hollow-point shells simply bounced off his skull.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><b><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Georgia","serif""><br></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><b><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Georgia","serif"">My
Slow Descent Into Unmanliness</span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Georgia","serif""><br></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Georgia","serif"">Thus began my slow but steady
descent into unmanliness. Any
card-carrying man can send a request to Bushmaster to revoke another man’s
card. If you are “a cry baby,” “a cupcake,”
“on a short leash,” or “just plain unmanly,” you are unfit for male duty and
cannot be trusted with a gun. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Georgia","serif""><br></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Georgia","serif"">My first step on this slippery
slope was a cowardly transfer from the hard sciences to the soft humanities at
Oregon State University. Then I received
a Rotary fellowship for a year in Denmark, where the citizens, softened by
sissy socialism, refuse to protect their homes with firearms. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Georgia","serif""><br></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Georgia","serif"">Denmark’s gun death rate of
1.45 per 100,000 stands in stark contrast to the U.S. at 10.2, but that is a
small price to pay for the freedom to pack heat. For every Dane who kills
himself with a gun, there are six Americans who go out in glory with their handy
firearms.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Georgia","serif""><br></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Georgia","serif"">Bushmaster’s “short leash” must
mean that proverbial wifely tether.
Well, here I must also plead guilty. When we arrived in Moscow and
settled in, I brought out my .30-06 to show to my new Danish bride. She was not impressed. She told me that it
was either her or the gun. For 16 years
I chose her and a safe home for our wonderful daughter. Homes with guns have far higher child deaths.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Georgia","serif""><br></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Georgia","serif"">Armed homes are not safe for
women either. A study by the <i>American Journal of Public Health</i>
concluded that women were eight times more likely to be killed in the home by
abusive men if they were armed.</span><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Georgia","serif";color:#222222;background:white"> In the same year Douglas Wiebe of the University of
Pennsylvania found “that females living with a gun in the home were 2.7 times
more likely to be murdered than females with no gun at home.”</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Georgia","serif";color:#222222;background:white"><br>
</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Georgia","serif";color:#222222;background:white">To be continued . . . .</span></p></div>