Monkeyleg
Member.
I don't want to sound like a wet blanket here, but we really have no rights. At least not compared to the rights we had 100 years ago.
Want to buy a gun? Fill out the 4473 and, in most states, wait a couple of days until the Fed's run a NICS check on you.
Want to buy a subgun? First ask around to see if your chief LEO will even sign the Form 4. If so, pay the $200 tax stamp, and then pay ten or twenty times what the gun was worth in 1985.
Want to carry a gun for self-defense? Be prepared to spend a few hundred dollars on training, background checks, and fees. Assuming, of course, that you live in a state where such a seemingly simple but obnoxious process is the law. If you're in a no-issue or almost no-issue state, tough luck. You don't have any rights.
Want to complain about the above? Good luck finding a source where you can vent your complaints. Don't count on the newspapers to help you. They have their own agenda. Besides, they don't even have to pay taxes on the tons of paper they buy. The First Admendment, you see.
What about approaching your legislator (senator, representative, US congressman, or US senator) to address the issue of redress of grievances?
Good luck.Your chances of a one-on-one meeting with a representative or senator to the US congress are about as good as being hit by satellite debris.
Your chances on the state level are better. They're even better if you bring a check with you.
What if you don't like the replies you get from your elected representatives?
Well, you could raise money to try to defeat them in their elections. Oh, but there's that pesky thing called "campaign finance reform." If you have money to run ads, hire a very good attorney, or go to jail for criticizing Congressman Crook.
We do have rights. The problem is that exercising those rights can cost a person his entire estate, a problem not unfamiliar to the signators of the Declaration of Indepedence.
Back in the lattter part of the 1970's, I drove a truck for what was then the Milwaukee Sentinel newspaper.
At the end of each shift, the drivers were required to fill out a vehicle inspection report for the mechanics.
On one such report, I wrote "the clutch pedal squeals when depressed (unlike the rest of us, who just whimper in quiet solitude)".
That may have been funny back then. It's not anymore.
Want to buy a gun? Fill out the 4473 and, in most states, wait a couple of days until the Fed's run a NICS check on you.
Want to buy a subgun? First ask around to see if your chief LEO will even sign the Form 4. If so, pay the $200 tax stamp, and then pay ten or twenty times what the gun was worth in 1985.
Want to carry a gun for self-defense? Be prepared to spend a few hundred dollars on training, background checks, and fees. Assuming, of course, that you live in a state where such a seemingly simple but obnoxious process is the law. If you're in a no-issue or almost no-issue state, tough luck. You don't have any rights.
Want to complain about the above? Good luck finding a source where you can vent your complaints. Don't count on the newspapers to help you. They have their own agenda. Besides, they don't even have to pay taxes on the tons of paper they buy. The First Admendment, you see.
What about approaching your legislator (senator, representative, US congressman, or US senator) to address the issue of redress of grievances?
Good luck.Your chances of a one-on-one meeting with a representative or senator to the US congress are about as good as being hit by satellite debris.
Your chances on the state level are better. They're even better if you bring a check with you.
What if you don't like the replies you get from your elected representatives?
Well, you could raise money to try to defeat them in their elections. Oh, but there's that pesky thing called "campaign finance reform." If you have money to run ads, hire a very good attorney, or go to jail for criticizing Congressman Crook.
We do have rights. The problem is that exercising those rights can cost a person his entire estate, a problem not unfamiliar to the signators of the Declaration of Indepedence.
Back in the lattter part of the 1970's, I drove a truck for what was then the Milwaukee Sentinel newspaper.
At the end of each shift, the drivers were required to fill out a vehicle inspection report for the mechanics.
On one such report, I wrote "the clutch pedal squeals when depressed (unlike the rest of us, who just whimper in quiet solitude)".
That may have been funny back then. It's not anymore.