Generally, a combination of ladylike reticence and consideration for the insecurities of my fellow bloggers prevents me from mentioning the great state which I call home. Extraordinary circumstances, however, have at last overcome my scruples. In the light of todayâ€™s Supreme Court ruling forbidding states, cities and municipalities from forbidding handgun ownership, and before Scalia and company begin ostentatiously flinging sidearms to a cheering populace, I feel it is my duty to point out the leadership role of the land of my birth. In the fight to uphold the blessed Second Amendment of the Constitution of these here United States, Texas has always been a shining beacon of hope to the teeming masses who struggle for their God-given right to own unlicensed semi-automatics and carry a Colt .45 in any diaper bag.
Texans view todayâ€™s â€œlandmarkâ€ decision in much the same way a fond parent regards the efforts of a four-year-old to load a single-action revolver: thereâ€™s a sense of indulgent pride, stifled giggles so as not to discourage the little cowboy, and the knowledge that once the Justices get past these first fumbling steps, they can look to us to lead the way into the explosively exciting world of unregulated gun ownership. Call us bellwethers; call us progressives; call us what you will… just donâ€™t call us late at night without identifying yourself, ha ha. Because we can shoot you. No, really. We probably can.
In fact, whom we can shoot with impunity is the primary concern of the more judicially advanced Texas gun debate. The right to own guns hasnâ€™t been an issue in Texas for.. for.. well, forever. We take for granted the ability to walk into Walmart and pony up for handguns, rifles and shotguns without all that permit, registration and licensing crap. We applaud our like-minded neighbors (most of the nation, you anti-gun anti-freedom bleeding hearts, and now the Supreme Court) but we’re so far past that oldÂ argument it’s hard to get lathered up about it. What we want, what we demand, is the right to shoot more people in more situations with less provocation and fewer consequences. And Iâ€™m proud to say that progress continues. As of September 1st, 2007, any Texan, including me, now has the chance to legally live out that greatest of all Old West gunslinger fantasies.
I can shoot you for lookinâ€™ at me funny.
Breathtaking, isnâ€™t it? All I need to prove to a jury after I blast you into kingdom come is that I felt legitimately threatened by something you were doing: committing a crime, standing between me and the door, looking at my chi-chis in an ominous manner, whatever. I donâ€™t have to try to get away or warn you that Iâ€™m armed (this is Texas, dumbass). And if Iâ€™m female, middle-class and white and youâ€™re not, not and um, not â€“ well, thatâ€™s a bet this modern Annie Oakley will take any time. Squeeze out a few tears, look vulnerable, and youâ€™re in like an armor-piercing bullet with any red-blooded Texas jury.
So congratulations, Supreme Court. We here in the Lone Star State eagerly await the maturation of the rest of the nationâ€™s views on the sacred rights to self-defense and blowing away pesky varmints at will, and weâ€™ll be here to set the standard for generations to come.
Unless we cross someoneâ€™s property line after dark. Price of freedom, Bubba.