Drizzt
Member
Guest Atomic Dog
Be the Hammer
by Chris Shugart
Disclaimer: Many won't agree with me on this topic, not even all of the T-mag staff, but that's okay. I'm not trying to convince anyone of anything, only talk about my feelings on what's ultimately a very personal subject. To me, this is not about politics. It's beyond politics. It's also not about the war in Iraq, although it's easy to draw that conclusion. This is about taking a stand and not being a victim. It's about protecting yourself and those around you. It's about having a choice between being the anvil or being the hammer.
" There is only one hero. He has a thousand faces. One of them is yours."
— J.R.R. Tolkein
" Rally 'round the family, pocket full of shells."
— Rage Against The Machine
I
In the end, I thought there would be guilt, at least a hint of it.
There wasn't.
I thought I'd lose sleep. I thought that I'd feel bad and regret what I'd done.
I didn't.
I was so sure I was supposed to feel these things that I went to his grave, stood there, and tried to force the emotions to surface.
They didn't.
A man was dead. I'd played a part. And I didn't care. Not one little bit.
Since the events of September 11th, everyone is asking the same annoying questions: "How has America changed since 9/11? How have you changed?" Most quickly recite some politically correct answer about appreciating what they have, telling family members they love them everyday, etc, etc. But that's not the real answer, or at least not all of it. The real answer is that many of us are pissed off. Many sleeping giants have been awakened.
9/11 hasn't been the only wake-up call. We're also thinking about the so-called Beltway snipers, the school shootings, the rash of kidnappings, the Oklahoma City bombing, and all the random attacks on innocents by psychotic wackos with twisted agendas. For Texans like myself, we think of the shootings in Killeen, where a man drove a car into a Luby's Cafeteria then methodically shot and killed twenty-two defenseless people, one of whom was trying to stop him with a butter knife.
You might think that this event lead Texans to demand more gun control, but it didn't. We know that gun-control laws do not stop those intent on murdering others; in many cases, they only disarm the victims. Instead, Texas adopted a concealed-carry law which allowed law-abiding, properly-trained citizens to get permits to carry guns. (This measure, by the way, was lead by Suzanna Gratia Hupp, a woman who was present that day in Killeen and whose parents were massacred. Her father, in fact, had been the one who attacked the shooter with a butter knife.)
Since this law was passed, violent crime in Texas has dropped 42%. The unofficial motto of the state (which began as a slogan for an anti-littering campaign) is "Don't Mess With Texas." You better believe it. The bad guys know: in Texas we shoot back.
Texans met the crime problem not with feel-good laws, protests and effeminate "awareness" campaigns, but with righteous action. We got pissed off. We have a lot of respect for law enforcement but we also have enough horse sense to know that its main job is to clean up the mess, not stop the crime. We do not call 911 and cower. We diffuse the situation, whatever it takes, then we call 911. The violent crime rate in Texas continues to drop.
II
Standing over his grave, I thought about all the rattlesnakes I'd killed. Growing up out in the country you get used to snakes. You learn to keep your eyes and your ears open. You learn awareness of your surroundings. I've come across a lot of rattlers in my life and I usually let them be. Hiking, hunting or just walking to a friend's house I'd see them, even stepped on one or two before I learned to keep my eyes down. You don't mess with them, they won't mess with you. Usually.
But sometimes they'd come up into my yard and right up to the house. Now they're on my turf. Now we have a problem. I know all about ecosystems and nature. I understand that rattlers keep the rodent population down and how that's a good thing. I understand that snakes don't seek out people to bite, but I've also lost a pet or two to rattlers and my father spent a few days in the hospital after being bitten. What if one sunk its fangs into a child on my property? There's no great moral debate, no wrestling with conscious; you simply get a shotgun, a shovel, or whatever is handy and you kill the son of a bitch.
The man in the grave at my feet didn't deserve a snake's respect. He was a predator, a career criminal who'd tasted blood and targeted my family. He had to be put down. We put him down. I've felt more guilt killing a snake.
The events of 9/11 not only pissed us off, but it woke us up. After 9/11, there have been many instances where a troublemaker on a plane was subdued not by flight attendants, but by other passengers. (And by "subdued," I mean coldcocked.) Never again will anyone turn a plane into a missile using only a box cutter. Ballsy Americans stepped up to the plate and began to take up for their own. Even the formerly spineless began to grow backbones. They had to. It was either evolve or die.
Collectively, before 9/11, we'd become what was perhaps the softest generation of Americans. We'd gotten a little too comfortable and were resting on our laurels. We'd forgotten our roots. We'd become the most powerful and influential nation in the world. We got that way through hard work, sacrifice, and, when necessary, violence. But somewhere along the way, we also became fat and complacent. We started acting like cattle who allow themselves to be pampered and fed and given a warm place to sleep. Like those fatted cattle, we stupidly thought we had it made. Like cattle, we soon found out that things get most comfortable right before the slaughter.
Maybe it's because of experiences in my past, but I've always thought that getting too comfortable was a bad thing. I don't like getting too complacent or too satisfied. I think that's how a man becomes stagnant — stagnant mentally, physically, creatively, or financially. It can also get you killed. In a combat environment, a soldier's duties are often rotated so he or she doesn't get too bored or too comfortable with their surroundings. People die when a soldier gets sleepy and bored on guard duty.
As a society, we'd done just that. Our grandfathers and great grandfathers were hard men, born of hard times and steeled by their environments. Today, America's grandson only worries about if he should sue his salon because the nail technician gave him a shoddy manicure. A "soft target" as the terrorists say.
I think times are changing. We'd forgotten a few things. We won't forget again. You can talk, negotiate and bargain with a bully or a bad guy for only so long, then you have to kick his teeth out for him. It's ugly and it's not politically correct, but it's the truth. Nine-eleven finally gave people the excuse they needed to get tough again, to finally admit that sometimes violence is the answer.
I'll give you a real-world example. When I was getting my concealed handgun permit, the instructor asked us to analyze this scenario: You're waiting in line at a convenience store. In front of you, another customer pulls out a gun and begins to rob the place. You're a licensed handgun carrier. What do you do?
Everyone in the room had a chance to answer the question. Most said they would not shoot the bad guy. Then the instructor changed one factor in the scenario. "Out in the parking lot, right by the door, is your car," he said. "In that car is your wife and children." We were given a chance to answer the question again. We all said about the same thing: "Shoot the mother****er." And that, according to law enforcement, is exactly what you're justified to do and what you should do. The scenario taught us all a lesson: when given that choice between being the anvil or the hammer, be the hammer.
III
In the end, I wasn't the one who pulled the trigger, but it was my gun and I'd loaded it. The cops and courts did their job and ruled the shooting a justifiable homicide — self defense. The man in the ground had crawled into the wrong yard and messed with the wrong family. He got two bullets in the neck for his troubles.
That was ten years ago. I still sleep just fine. But that doesn't mean I walk through the pasture with my eyes closed. I keep 'em open. I listen. I know that rattlers come in all shapes and sizes. Most importantly, I know that when one invades my turf, my town, or my country, he has to be put down. This is the real homeland security.
You really want to know how things have changed since 9/11? I'll tell you. America is getting tough again. Men and women of action are starting to get the respect they deserve. If given the chance, we'll not hesitate to take down a bad guy. America has been questioned by the rattlesnakes of the world and the answers are "no" and "never again" and "not on my watch." Testosterone is good again. Standing up for yourself is good again.
Since 9/11 I've received my concealed carry permit. I've been trained in "urban combat" by professionals who use these skills every day to survive. I've learned how to disarm an attacker. I've learned knife fighting skills from Special Forces instructors who can tell you what it smells like when you cut a man's throat. I've memorized the bleeddown tables and learned adrenaline control techniques from former military snipers.
This is not about fear or paranoia. This is not bull****, action movie bravado. It's about being responsible and prepared. It's about not being a sheep. It's about defending my own — my own wife, my own daughter.
No, I haven't turned into some paranoid militant who walks around wearing camouflage and refers to his home as a "compound." I'm just a normal American, one who's even been known to drive his kid to soccer practice in an SUV and shop at Wal-Mart. Like many, I've just made the decision that I'm not letting another nutcase, terrorist, or criminal harm those around me. Not on my watch. If anyone around me goes "postal," I'm sending them a special delivery from my Sig Sauer.
And I'm not the only one. Recently, there was a shooting and an arson attack on a church here in Texas. Not long after, nineteen ordained ministers all attended the same certification course and are now packing handguns to their services. There won't be another church shooting in Texas. Not on their watch.
After Columbine, hundreds of principals and administrators were also certified to carry a gun. Let the new-age hippies who try to solve the problem of school violence with sugary sweet, mandatory conflict resolution classes, "awareness" seminars and more useless, knee-jerk laws do their thing. Meanwhile, the real problem solvers will take care of business. In those states that allow it, those armed school administrators won't let another Littleton massacre happen. Not on their watch.
Many of us have simply decided that we won't be passive victims. We won't let crime or terrorism just happen to us. We won't be stabbed to death so a drug addict can buy another hit. We won't allow some wacko to kill our families because his ideas about religion are different than ours. We won't be beaten to death because we walked down the wrong street in the wrong neighborhood. And if we're taken down, we'll not go down alone.
It all comes back to that choice we have to make: we can be the anvil or be the hammer.
Be the hammer.
http://www.t-mag.com/nation_articles/257tc2.html
...not the typical article you would find while perusing Testosterone Magazine (although, the article does seem a bit laden with same).
Be the Hammer
by Chris Shugart
Disclaimer: Many won't agree with me on this topic, not even all of the T-mag staff, but that's okay. I'm not trying to convince anyone of anything, only talk about my feelings on what's ultimately a very personal subject. To me, this is not about politics. It's beyond politics. It's also not about the war in Iraq, although it's easy to draw that conclusion. This is about taking a stand and not being a victim. It's about protecting yourself and those around you. It's about having a choice between being the anvil or being the hammer.
" There is only one hero. He has a thousand faces. One of them is yours."
— J.R.R. Tolkein
" Rally 'round the family, pocket full of shells."
— Rage Against The Machine
I
In the end, I thought there would be guilt, at least a hint of it.
There wasn't.
I thought I'd lose sleep. I thought that I'd feel bad and regret what I'd done.
I didn't.
I was so sure I was supposed to feel these things that I went to his grave, stood there, and tried to force the emotions to surface.
They didn't.
A man was dead. I'd played a part. And I didn't care. Not one little bit.
Since the events of September 11th, everyone is asking the same annoying questions: "How has America changed since 9/11? How have you changed?" Most quickly recite some politically correct answer about appreciating what they have, telling family members they love them everyday, etc, etc. But that's not the real answer, or at least not all of it. The real answer is that many of us are pissed off. Many sleeping giants have been awakened.
9/11 hasn't been the only wake-up call. We're also thinking about the so-called Beltway snipers, the school shootings, the rash of kidnappings, the Oklahoma City bombing, and all the random attacks on innocents by psychotic wackos with twisted agendas. For Texans like myself, we think of the shootings in Killeen, where a man drove a car into a Luby's Cafeteria then methodically shot and killed twenty-two defenseless people, one of whom was trying to stop him with a butter knife.
You might think that this event lead Texans to demand more gun control, but it didn't. We know that gun-control laws do not stop those intent on murdering others; in many cases, they only disarm the victims. Instead, Texas adopted a concealed-carry law which allowed law-abiding, properly-trained citizens to get permits to carry guns. (This measure, by the way, was lead by Suzanna Gratia Hupp, a woman who was present that day in Killeen and whose parents were massacred. Her father, in fact, had been the one who attacked the shooter with a butter knife.)
Since this law was passed, violent crime in Texas has dropped 42%. The unofficial motto of the state (which began as a slogan for an anti-littering campaign) is "Don't Mess With Texas." You better believe it. The bad guys know: in Texas we shoot back.
Texans met the crime problem not with feel-good laws, protests and effeminate "awareness" campaigns, but with righteous action. We got pissed off. We have a lot of respect for law enforcement but we also have enough horse sense to know that its main job is to clean up the mess, not stop the crime. We do not call 911 and cower. We diffuse the situation, whatever it takes, then we call 911. The violent crime rate in Texas continues to drop.
II
Standing over his grave, I thought about all the rattlesnakes I'd killed. Growing up out in the country you get used to snakes. You learn to keep your eyes and your ears open. You learn awareness of your surroundings. I've come across a lot of rattlers in my life and I usually let them be. Hiking, hunting or just walking to a friend's house I'd see them, even stepped on one or two before I learned to keep my eyes down. You don't mess with them, they won't mess with you. Usually.
But sometimes they'd come up into my yard and right up to the house. Now they're on my turf. Now we have a problem. I know all about ecosystems and nature. I understand that rattlers keep the rodent population down and how that's a good thing. I understand that snakes don't seek out people to bite, but I've also lost a pet or two to rattlers and my father spent a few days in the hospital after being bitten. What if one sunk its fangs into a child on my property? There's no great moral debate, no wrestling with conscious; you simply get a shotgun, a shovel, or whatever is handy and you kill the son of a bitch.
The man in the grave at my feet didn't deserve a snake's respect. He was a predator, a career criminal who'd tasted blood and targeted my family. He had to be put down. We put him down. I've felt more guilt killing a snake.
The events of 9/11 not only pissed us off, but it woke us up. After 9/11, there have been many instances where a troublemaker on a plane was subdued not by flight attendants, but by other passengers. (And by "subdued," I mean coldcocked.) Never again will anyone turn a plane into a missile using only a box cutter. Ballsy Americans stepped up to the plate and began to take up for their own. Even the formerly spineless began to grow backbones. They had to. It was either evolve or die.
Collectively, before 9/11, we'd become what was perhaps the softest generation of Americans. We'd gotten a little too comfortable and were resting on our laurels. We'd forgotten our roots. We'd become the most powerful and influential nation in the world. We got that way through hard work, sacrifice, and, when necessary, violence. But somewhere along the way, we also became fat and complacent. We started acting like cattle who allow themselves to be pampered and fed and given a warm place to sleep. Like those fatted cattle, we stupidly thought we had it made. Like cattle, we soon found out that things get most comfortable right before the slaughter.
Maybe it's because of experiences in my past, but I've always thought that getting too comfortable was a bad thing. I don't like getting too complacent or too satisfied. I think that's how a man becomes stagnant — stagnant mentally, physically, creatively, or financially. It can also get you killed. In a combat environment, a soldier's duties are often rotated so he or she doesn't get too bored or too comfortable with their surroundings. People die when a soldier gets sleepy and bored on guard duty.
As a society, we'd done just that. Our grandfathers and great grandfathers were hard men, born of hard times and steeled by their environments. Today, America's grandson only worries about if he should sue his salon because the nail technician gave him a shoddy manicure. A "soft target" as the terrorists say.
I think times are changing. We'd forgotten a few things. We won't forget again. You can talk, negotiate and bargain with a bully or a bad guy for only so long, then you have to kick his teeth out for him. It's ugly and it's not politically correct, but it's the truth. Nine-eleven finally gave people the excuse they needed to get tough again, to finally admit that sometimes violence is the answer.
I'll give you a real-world example. When I was getting my concealed handgun permit, the instructor asked us to analyze this scenario: You're waiting in line at a convenience store. In front of you, another customer pulls out a gun and begins to rob the place. You're a licensed handgun carrier. What do you do?
Everyone in the room had a chance to answer the question. Most said they would not shoot the bad guy. Then the instructor changed one factor in the scenario. "Out in the parking lot, right by the door, is your car," he said. "In that car is your wife and children." We were given a chance to answer the question again. We all said about the same thing: "Shoot the mother****er." And that, according to law enforcement, is exactly what you're justified to do and what you should do. The scenario taught us all a lesson: when given that choice between being the anvil or the hammer, be the hammer.
III
In the end, I wasn't the one who pulled the trigger, but it was my gun and I'd loaded it. The cops and courts did their job and ruled the shooting a justifiable homicide — self defense. The man in the ground had crawled into the wrong yard and messed with the wrong family. He got two bullets in the neck for his troubles.
That was ten years ago. I still sleep just fine. But that doesn't mean I walk through the pasture with my eyes closed. I keep 'em open. I listen. I know that rattlers come in all shapes and sizes. Most importantly, I know that when one invades my turf, my town, or my country, he has to be put down. This is the real homeland security.
You really want to know how things have changed since 9/11? I'll tell you. America is getting tough again. Men and women of action are starting to get the respect they deserve. If given the chance, we'll not hesitate to take down a bad guy. America has been questioned by the rattlesnakes of the world and the answers are "no" and "never again" and "not on my watch." Testosterone is good again. Standing up for yourself is good again.
Since 9/11 I've received my concealed carry permit. I've been trained in "urban combat" by professionals who use these skills every day to survive. I've learned how to disarm an attacker. I've learned knife fighting skills from Special Forces instructors who can tell you what it smells like when you cut a man's throat. I've memorized the bleeddown tables and learned adrenaline control techniques from former military snipers.
This is not about fear or paranoia. This is not bull****, action movie bravado. It's about being responsible and prepared. It's about not being a sheep. It's about defending my own — my own wife, my own daughter.
No, I haven't turned into some paranoid militant who walks around wearing camouflage and refers to his home as a "compound." I'm just a normal American, one who's even been known to drive his kid to soccer practice in an SUV and shop at Wal-Mart. Like many, I've just made the decision that I'm not letting another nutcase, terrorist, or criminal harm those around me. Not on my watch. If anyone around me goes "postal," I'm sending them a special delivery from my Sig Sauer.
And I'm not the only one. Recently, there was a shooting and an arson attack on a church here in Texas. Not long after, nineteen ordained ministers all attended the same certification course and are now packing handguns to their services. There won't be another church shooting in Texas. Not on their watch.
After Columbine, hundreds of principals and administrators were also certified to carry a gun. Let the new-age hippies who try to solve the problem of school violence with sugary sweet, mandatory conflict resolution classes, "awareness" seminars and more useless, knee-jerk laws do their thing. Meanwhile, the real problem solvers will take care of business. In those states that allow it, those armed school administrators won't let another Littleton massacre happen. Not on their watch.
Many of us have simply decided that we won't be passive victims. We won't let crime or terrorism just happen to us. We won't be stabbed to death so a drug addict can buy another hit. We won't allow some wacko to kill our families because his ideas about religion are different than ours. We won't be beaten to death because we walked down the wrong street in the wrong neighborhood. And if we're taken down, we'll not go down alone.
It all comes back to that choice we have to make: we can be the anvil or be the hammer.
Be the hammer.
http://www.t-mag.com/nation_articles/257tc2.html
...not the typical article you would find while perusing Testosterone Magazine (although, the article does seem a bit laden with same).
