It never ceases to amaze me how quickly society can lose its core values. Our personal liberties, the moral foundation upon which our framers stood to build this great nation are slowly eroding away, and if we don’t stay vigilant, they’ll be gone before we know it. We will become slaves to political correctness and suddenly lose the ability to enjoy the pastimes we once treasured.
You can imagine my surprise when I was stopped by police officer for pounding a middle-aged man in the face with a tire-iron last Sunday.
At first it didn’t register. Was I on private property? Did I need a license for this tire-iron? Perhaps it was wrong for me to park my car on the middle of that golf course. No. Instead, I was deprived of my fundamental right to assault a fellow American with twelve pounds of steel in broad daylight.
I admit that I did not receive his consent at first, but he was a complete stranger. I didn’t want to disturb him. My point is that we no longer live in a world where one man can take his tire-iron, find another man at a water fountain, and club him in the face with it. I dare to dream and, suddenly, I’m the big-bad villain.
Freedom-hating conformists! It makes you just want to go out and assaul--oh wait, that’s right, you can’t.
My father would always tell me “never trust a man you can’t attack with an iron hunk of metal.” As a boy, I dismissed it as sentimental and old fashioned, but I’ve now realized just how profound it truly is. When you meet a stranger on a boardwalk, a nature preserve, a carnival, or even your local parking lot, you learn a lot about his character by the clothing, posture, manner of speaking, and whether you’re able to strike him with a lead pipe or power-tool.
Call me a hopeless romantic. Call me a nostalgic fool. Call me a felon with three charges of armed assault. I like hitting people in the face. So sue me. But don’t really sue me; you would probably win damages in our “pay-his-medical-bills” court of law.
If bludgeoning someone for no apparent reason is such a crime, then lock me up and throw away the key. I’m tired of getting stares from bystanders, inching away in fear, as if I’m the violent person. If you take a step back, you’d realize the media is to blame. We assaulters are unfairly profiled as muggers, thieves, or even lunatics. I have never stolen so much as a wallet from any of my assaultees. And I never ever follow orders from the voices inside my head. They only choose my lottery numbers.
Consider this a call to arms, America. We need to defend our right to attack. Sheathing our lead pipes, our wrenches, our nightsticks, our broken bar-stools will only allow the government and powerful “public safety” lobby to manipulate us with their shiny small-print books and fancy college talk. That’s a fact. And if you don’t believe me, I’ll smash you in the head with a brick to prove it.