Perhaps it's not the topic, but the man.
I'm 55, and I'm coming to terms with the fact that while I'm healthy (I go to the gym everyday) and still enjoy riding my Harley, to most of the world I'm an older gentleman. And I've always seen odd stuff done in life by guys I refer to as "brain donors."
But I've also grown impatient with mistakes and foolishness that I've seen done over and over again by different segments of society, each thinking they are breaking new ground. I mean, sheez Louise, whether you call it hard rock, metal, gangsta rap, or grunge it's still some guy screaming angst into a microphone despite that his only plight has been living with his parents. Man, I could run my home for a year on all the power his amphifiers waste.
But unlike the common citizen, the older guy is just sick of keeping quiet. He's endured threats, broken bones, disease, failed relationships, financial woes and piss-poor customer service. You cannot scare him, but then, you cannot fool him, either.
I've handloaded the .223 for some 30 years. I've used FMJ, Nosler Ballistic tips, commercial loads and every type of gunpowder you can shake, meter, drop or rub into your belly button. And sometimes with a custom crafted flat-top Colt AR-15, I am drop-dead astounded by its accuracy.
But let's cut the crap about "wounds to the thorax." If you are hit with a .22LR or a 25 ACP you feel pain, you bleed and you'll probably need life saving surgery before you recover--after weeks of discomfort and therapy--if you survive.
You're driving hot cupro-nickel wrapped lead into another human being. What the hell did you think was going to happen?