The trouble with roaches
Ryan Summerlin October 18, 2012
Gun control opponents argue that an armed society is a safer society.
They say it’s OK to have loose gun laws and loopholes for those frivolous, carefree moments when you simply cannot wait to strap a Glock. Big clip magazines, semi-automatic assault rifles and mail-order whatever. But if it’s really making us safer, who cares?
Back when nobody had guns, we were equal. Fast forward to a totally armed society and we’re all equal again. I shoot you and you’re free to do likewise. Wait! Equal? That can’t be right; I need an edge. To ensure my continued safety, and to the delight of arms dealers, I will need bigger heat than you have. And as soon as I get it, you’ll be scrambling for more firepower than I have. By the time we’re all packing shoulder-fired missiles, I imagine the feeling of safety will be overwhelming.
It follows, then, that a safer world would be one where every nation has a nuclear weapon. Except the insane ones, of course. And criminals. But who’s to say? Syrian president Bashar al-Assad has never been arrested. If he doesn’t have a photo ID, I’m sure he could get one, and he’s probably got a mosque or two full of cash. Who cares if Russia sold him a nuclear device? But for the scale, it’s no different from a pimp buying a Street Sweeper at a gun show out of the trunk of a ’79 Caprice. An armed world is a safe world, after all.
When it comes to protecting Americans, at least certain Americans, from nuclear terrorism, no one has been more pro-active than our elected officials. Several years ago, The Washington Times revealed that Congress has maintained a secret bunker in West Virginia buried deep beneath the five-star Greenbrier Golf and Tennis Resort.
I guess the idea is that if some nasty dictator drops the Big One, Congress can flee to the security of a plush, well-stocked bomb shelter a hundred yards below the golf course and hole up there, sipping Dom Perignon and nibbling caviar, stockpiled at public expense. They might be delighted that those pesky scandals and troublesome voters have finally melted away like a bubbling parking lot. Darwin would call it Survival of the Effete.
When things cool down, Congress can finally embrace a bi-partisan effort to roll away the stone and greet the dawn of a new civilization with a couple of rounds of undisturbed golf. They might not even notice that they are humanity’s sole survivors because of their infatuation with their hair. They never listened to constituents after they got elected anyway.
But wait! What just scurried across the toe of their wing-tips? Scientists tell us that, after Congress, the only animal life that would survive an atomic holocaust is the cockroach.
So, after nuclear obliteration, the last ones standing would be Congress and cockroaches. A fitting match. One can only hope the cockroaches will be on guard. Assuming, and this is a pretty sure thing, cockroaches would refuse to get down and swap genes with politicians, that means the new dawn of civilization would be peopled entirely by descendants of Congress.
O brave new world that has such people in it. – Shakespeare