2008 Year In Review

2008 was an interesting, fun, and in some ways, idiotic year. So let’s recap.




As usual, most of the world sucked and was run by morons. In 2008, Angry Muslim Terrorists blew stuff up, and we blew up Angry Muslim Terrorists, while people who should know better whined about violence and George Bush. Having finally killed enough Angry Muslim Terrorists, the war in Iraq was pretty much won, but you probably didn’t see that on the news. I caught a few minutes about that in between coverage about how awesome Obama was.  


Then some dude threw his shoes at the President. Apparently throwing shoes is some sort of really big insult in backwards nations that enjoy a high percentage of man/goat relationships. I was disappointed that the Secret Service didn’t immediately chainsaw bayonet the guy into lunchmeat.


China held the Olympics. Despite China’s clear wins in games like Dissident Executing, America still kicked ass, led by weredolphin Michael Phelp’s fifty-seven gold medals.


In European news, Russia was so terribly offended by the new Indiana Jones movie, that dared to portray them as bad guys, that they promptly retaliated by steamrolling Georgia into rubble. Europe, being run by a bunch of socialist wimps, was too busy having giant parties celebrating the upcoming election of Barack Obama as Rock Super Star of the EU to actually do anything. Besides, Europe doesn’t actually have militaries anymore, since those cost money that could otherwise be spent on programs to provide free cocaine to hookers in Amsterdam.


In other world news, the world economic system, which was entirely based on giving home loans to hookers in Amsterdam, also collapsed.




In a historic election, proving how unbigoted we are, and how we’ve put America’s shameful history of racism behind us, we elected the first communist as president. This historic achievement occurred during the Great Presidential Crusade of 2006-2008, when the entire US news industry became the Office of Democratic Truth and Enlightenment. Under such auspicious reporting during the primaries we were able to choose between a communist and Satan’s concubine on the Democrat side, and on the Republican side we got to choose between several democrats and a Reptoid from the Hollow Earth, i.e. America’s Mayor. When all was said and done, the democrats went with the communist and we ran a sock puppet.


We are so boned.


A sad aftereffect of the Great Presidential Crusade by the Office of Democratic Truth and Enlightenment was that they managed to destroy the US economy.  Now I know you’re saying, wait a minute, Correia, “That’s going too far. The economy was destroyed by lending money to idiots (as was mandated by congressional democrats) who couldn’t pay it off and then loaning more idiots money on those loans while we were paying oil sheiks $5 a gallon because we’re too stupid to tap our own resources.”


And I would have to agree with you except for one thing. The economy runs on good feelings. No, seriously. If people feel upbeat, they continue to invest and spend. If people are freaked out, they hunker down. When everybody hunkers down and quits spending money, then people start to lose their jobs. With Iraq wrapped up, the media needed something to bitch about to get their guy elected, so they picked the economy. 24/7 we got to hear about how we were suddenly in the Great Depression. They just pushed and pushed and pushed, even when the vast majority of people were doing just fine.


So then it all spiraled out of their control, and now we’re hosed. True, we’re not even doing as bad as we were doing in the early 1980s, but that doesn’t matter. This kind of thing is a self-fulfilling prophecy. The economy is based on good feelings, (it sure as heck isn’t based on anything that makes sense) and the good feelings were destroyed out of political expediency and propaganda. Thanks a lot, idiots.




In 2008 I released a little Print-On-Demand book that managed to turn into a hit. Baen Books purchased the rights to Monster Hunter International, and now I’m eagerly awaiting the Summer 2009 release.


I quit my job and sold my shares to my partners. I spent the last few years working like crazy to turn FBMG into a great business. I’m really proud of what I did there, but working as many hours as I was, made it so that I had no time to write, and besides that, I was turning into that dad. You know, the one that never ever sees or does anything with his kids, and after years of working 80 hours a week, he comes home and finds them all grown up. Yeah, I was turning into that guy, and I really didn’t want to do that.


So now I’m a semi-unemployed writer guy. If anybody needs an accountant/manager, shoot me an e-mail and I’ll send you my resume. I’ve actually got a pretty darn good skill set.


As much as I loved running my own business, I really look forward to working 40 hours a week like a normal person, but in the meantime, I’m going to be blissfully unemployed and enjoy the vacation. I’ve got a little savings in the bank and a bunch of books to write. 


Happy New Year!


I’ve noticed a trend. Richard Paul Evans wrote The Christmas Box and The Christmas Letters.  Then there was the Christmas Jars by Jason Wright. Now we’ve got the Christmas Sweater by Glenn Beck. Notice anything?  All best-selling novels.  All written by Mormons!


So as a novelist and a Mormon, I too am entitled to write a best-selling Christmas novel. Now I’m a slightly different type of novelist than the gentlemen above, so I’m not sure how this is going to work out. So I am proud to present to you, gentle reader, excerpts from the upcoming, as of yet untitled, Larry Correia Christmas novel project: THE CHRISTMAS (insert noun here). 


I will, of course, come up with whatever the noun is as I go along. I’m thinking cookies. Or maybe a tree… or something.  Inevitably however, everything I write seems to turn back into rampaging monsters or terrorist plots.  Go figure. So here are some excerpts from my rough draft of THE CHRISTMAS NOUN:




From Page 2 Prologue Flashback sequence: “Well, I’m really sorry about Christmas being so tough this year, little Timmy. After your father was crushed to death cutting down that Christmas tree, and your mother lost both of her hands at the candy cane factory, and your brother died from that rare mistletoe allergy, and…”


“That’s okay, Grampa. I understand. I’m eight years old. I’m sure this will be the best Christmas ever!” Little Timmy said, just knowing that he was going to get that limited-edition Millenium Falcon he had always wanted.


Grampa paused to wipe the tears from his good eye. He had recently lost his other eye in a freak reindeer accident. “Well, here’s your present, Timmy,” he said, pushing the wrapped package forward…


Young Timmy ripped it open. It was a rock. “But, Grampa. It’s a rock,” he said sadly. “Where the hell’s my Millennium-Falcon? You could have at least got me the Optimus Prime with laser ax and eyeball cannon!”


“It’s all we could afford, Timmy. I’m sorry. Just remember that Santa Claus still loves you. Just not this year. Because we’re poor.”


Timmy looked out the window to where the neighbor kids were playing with their new ponies or flying around on rocket sleds. “You suck Grampa! Christmas killed my entire family, and I still get a friggin’ rock. I hate Christmas FOREVER!”


Grampa raised his fists to the sky and theatrically shouted, “NOOOOOOOO!” kind of like Darth Vader at the end of the last Star Wars movie, but without so much reverb. Then he died.




From Chapter 1. 


Young Timmy grew up until his friends just called him Tim. But he was a bitter young man, who had sworn a blood vendetta against the spirit of Christmas. One year Tim got a job as a mall Santa as a condition of his parole.


On Christmas Eve morning, Tim was working at the mall, when he happened to bump into Sally Love-Interest.


“Well, hello, Tim,” said Sally. “Do you have any plans for Christmas Eve?”


“No, Sally,” said Tim sadly. “I figure that I’m going to loaf around my slum apartment, shoot rats with my .22, then drink Thunderbird until I pass out in a pool of my own vomit. If I’m lucky I might live through the night. How about you?”


“Well, I’m going to the protest. Industrialist-billionaire-Republican-capitalist Chuck McScrouge is trying to bulldoze the Orphanage/Old Folk’s Home/Teddy Bear Hospital and evict all of those orphans, old people, and teddy bears… on Christmas Eve!”


Tim shrugged. “Whatever.”




From Chapter 2.


Tim’s Mom was really glad to see him when he came to visit her at the Orphanage/Old Folk’s Home/Teddy Bear Hospital. “Oh, Tim. I’m so glad you could come.” She waved at him with her stainless-steel hook limbs. Tim noted that she had gotten into the season by painting them with red and white stripes, like pointy stainless-steel candy cane hands. “You look so handsome in your Santa suit!”


“Hey, Mom. I hear Mr. McScrouge is going to bulldoze this place today. You and all of the old folks will probably freeze to death or something I guess.”


“Oh, no. I believe in the miracle of the Christmas (Noun),” she said.


“The Christmas (Noun)? Well that just sounds stupid.”


“No stupider than Jars, Letters, Boxes, or Sweaters, and look how many books those sold!” his mother admonished him.




From Chapter 3.


“Bwa Ha Ha Ha Ha!” Mr. McScrouge laughed with the laugh that only industrialist billionaires can produce. “Foolish Sally Love-Interest. You really think that your feeble protest can stop my fleet of bulldozers?”


“You’ll never get past the Christmas (Noun)!” Sally shouted from across the picket line. “Because it represents goodness, redemption, forgiveness, and puppies!”   


“I’ve bulldozed a leper colony, three hundred acres of old growth forest, a spotted owl habitat, and a homeless shelter before breakfast.” Mr. McScrouge said around his Cuban cigar. “Your orphanage/old folk’s home/teddy bear hospital is next.”


“Never, Mr. McScrouge!”


He held up his hand. “It’s pronounced Screw – Jay.  It’s French.”


“Oh, sorry.”




From Chapter 5.


Tim ran into the room, his fake white beard twirling dangerously above his padded belly. “Wait! Where did that old book go?”


Sally looked up from Tim’s Grandfather’s chest of secret Christmas memories. “You mean that big ancient scary one bound in what looked like human skin and inked in blood? I gave it to those carolers.”


“That was Grandpa’s book of forbidden mysteries and Cthulu summoning!” Tim shouted. “He had it buried under the town nativity scene. When those atheists burned it, they freed the book!”


Sally was embarrassed. “Oh, I thought it was ancient Summarian Christmas carols.”


“The only song in that book is the song that ends the world.  It will rip open an unspeakable hole in the fabric of space and time and turn everyone into zombies. Which way did they go?”


“They were going to sing to the old folk’s home,” Sally said. Tim spun and ran from the room. “Wait, where are you going?”


“To get my shotgun!”




From Chapter 7.




Tim used his Santa hat to wipe the gore from his face. “Man… who would have thought that old people still contained that much blood!  They look so dried out, but it’s like they’re pressurized or something…”


“Tim!” Sally screamed. “The portal is getting bigger. Something is coming through! Something big and evil!”


There was a scream of incomprehensible terror from the portal to hell. “HO HO HO” Then a sleigh made of bone and chaos exploded into our world in a flash of fire and a stink of corruption, pulled by eight tiny Hell-Deer, being whipped onward by a horned demon in a jolly red suit wielding a cat-o-nine tails made of Christmas lights and barbed wire.


“On Stalin! On Hitler! On Sodom and Fred!” shouted the demon at its hell-deer. “On Carrot-Top! On O.J. Simpson! On Rosanne Barr! Move your lazy ass, Ted Kennedy! Ho Ho Ho!” His belly shook like a bowl full of jelly. Poison jelly-fish that is!


“Santa?” Sally asked stupidly, as Sally was actually pretty dim-witted, but she was really easy on the eyes.


“No,” Tim said as he pumped another 12 gauge slug into the chamber. “It’s the Anti-Clause.”


“I’m checking my list, and checking it twice, and now I’m going to swallow your souls,” bellowed the Anti-Clause.


“Not if the Christmas (Noun) and my Black Tiger Style Kung-Fu can help it!” Tim shouted.




From Chapter 8.


The last of the zombies burst into flames and collapsed around the mall.


Tim slowly lowered the dripping chainsaw. “I think we did it!” he shouted. “We saved Christmas.”


“What!?” Sally shouted.


“Oh, yeah.” Tim shut off the chainsaw. “Sorry about that.”


“I love you, Tim,” said Sally as she kissed him passionately. At the beginning of the book she had looked kind of nerdy, and had been wearing glasses and had her hair in a bun, but by the end she was just in a torn tank-top and was looking pretty hot, in classic B-movie tradition. “Especially now that you have the spirit of Christmas and stuff.”


“I couldn’t have done it without the Christmas (Noun) and that extended dream sequence from the last chapter.”


Then it snowed. And the orphans, old folks, teddy bears, and special guest star Hulk Hogan had the happiest Christmas ever. Cthulu was displeased.





(Note to people who actually read books, the above is satire. No. Not the little guys with the goat legs… Satire. There is actually no Christmas novel in the works.  Do not let the strangeness you just read dissuade you from purchasing my actual (not sucky) novel, Monster Hunter International, available now on http://www.amazon.com) http://www.amazon.com/Monster-Hunter-International-Larry-Correia/dp/1439132852/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1229922500&sr=8-1 





Update: There is a new Christmas Noun post in 2009: http://larrycorreia.wordpress.com/2009/12/08/the-christmas-noun-2-the-nounening/ 

Eat Sushi or DIE

I’ve never promoted a restaurant before, but I totally have to talk up Sushi Ya.


Okay, now when somebody tells you that you’re going out to dinner after the Glenn Beck Christmas show to all-you-can-eat sushi, you don’t imagine it is going to be very good.  All you can eat sushi usually sucks.


Plus this was all you can eat sushi, for only $20 for dinner. Which if you eat much sushi, (which I do) then you also know that’s dang cheap.  So I really wasn’t expecting much.


I’ve eaten sushi in about six different states now, in restaurants overlooking the ocean owned by 15th generation samurai sushi-warriors. My sushi standards are pretty tough.  Seriously, I’ve eaten at some good places, and even places that are near the top of the Zagat survey, and some trendy places that are super popular but have mediocre food. If it is raw, and out of the ocean, I’ve probably eaten one.  Remember Devil Fish from Mystery Science Theater? Awesome on crackers. The monsters from Humanoids from the Deep? Taste like yellow-tail.


But Sushi Ya was awesome. Everything was rolled fresh as you ordered. For $20 I was able to eat amazing sushi until I couldn’t walk. This stuff was excellent.  Seriously, it was far better than the expensive trendy places around Utah, and taste wise, rivaled the fancy food-snob places I’ve eaten.


Mrs. Correia is not a fan of seaweed. It usually makes her puke. But she loved Sushi Ya.


They’ve got traditional sushi on the A and B sections, and the C section is a bunch of weird custom creations. The stuff from C was mind blowing. The owner came out and suggested his personal favorites. They were the best rolls I’ve ever had.


Sushi Ya

2440 Fort Union Blvd.

Salt Lake City, UT 84121

(801) 944-3933


Go check it out. Please, keep these guys in business. I’ve got a new favorite place to eat. Service was great too.

HOLY FREAKING CRAP! MHI German copy for $842.99!


Just… Wow.


I’m betting that this one is a trap. It’s in Germany, so I’m guessing that it is being held hostage by H und K marketing staffers. They’re just waiting for me to show up so they can sacrifce me to their ineffectual Teutonic Gods.

Man, I can’t wrap my brain around that price.

I don’t know who made this, but they’re brilliant…


Don Gwinn on Illinois Gov. arrest

An Illinois resident’s take on their recent problems, from the Armed School Teacher: http://thearmedschoolteacher.blogspot.com/2008/12/blagojevich-i-im-sorry-i-cant-pretend.html

“But all the jubilation misses a sobering point: Rod Blagojevich is the Governor we deserved. We elected this guy. Twice. He wrecked us, he despised us, he choked our economy to death and humped the cold, lifeless corpse while he laughed at us, and we asked him to stay for another term.”

Don puts righteous smackdown in that line. That’s the best necrophilia related political analogy I’ve heard this week.

Fisking the University of Utah editorial page about guns… again.

I found this posted on www.wethearmed.com yesterday, and because it is from a local University paper, I couldn’t resist a good fisking.  Italics are from the original article. I’m not sure if this was a staff editorial, or just somebody who wrote in. If the former, that was pathetic, save your parent’s money and drop out of school. If it was the later, I’m guessing it was written in crayon on the back of a placemat from Denny’s.


Guns shouldn’t be recreational

Emily Rodriguez-Vargas

We all have our own views on gun control and the Second Amendment’s “right to bear arms.”


I like how “right to bear arms” is in quotes. That’s to clarify that pesky Second Amendment from its alternate titles, like… um… well, you know… those other titles. I usually use quotes in an editorial to point out absurdities. Like calling Emily Rodriguez-Vargas “truthful”.

Many people exercise this right and believe that because of it, they are able to do whatever they want, even if it means storing deadly weapons in a house of curious, naïve children.


My kids are rather intelligent, and I’ve taught them to use guns safely. If your kids are naïve, you might want to take a real hard look at who’s teaching them about life. And Mrs. Rodriguez-Vargas, you might want to also study the extremely long list of other household products that you possess that are far more deadly to your kids, like 5-gallon buckets and bathtubs.


Although we have the right to own a gun, it can invite tragic consequences.


Yes, and it usually involves stupidity, like just about every other thing in life with tragic consequences. Not having a gun never causes any problems, because a little thing like getting raped repeatedly and then bludgeoned until the responding paramedics openly weep when they see the victim’s crushed face. Heaven forbid that something tragic happens, like the victim shoots the rapist or something…

Shooting is the most popular seasonal sport in the United States

. Utah’s recreational shooting numbers lie at 14.9 percent, with Idaho’s average at 18.9 percent, according to a June 2007 press release by the National Shooting Sports Foundation. These results are more than twice the national average. In addition, a 2006 NSSF survey found approximately 50 million Americans said they had been shooting with a rifle within the past two years.


Totally unacceptable… Idaho is beating us by 4%.

If shooting is what keeps us entertained, then guns are needed less for self-protection and to provide food than just for fun.


That’s kind of idiotic if you think about it. Just because something has one use, doesn’t mean that it doesn’t have any other uses. Sex just isn’t for making babies either.


Besides, if my gun is to be useful for self-defense, that means I need to actually practice with it. You can take a karate class, but unless you train, you’re less than useless. Just don’t have fun doing it, because you might offend Emily Rodriguez-Vargas. 


This type of hobby is an excuse to feed our aggressive side and to train our mind to accept this use of weapons not out of necessity, but for the thrill it provides.


And I drive my car to work around 75 miles an hour. For some odd reason, even if I watched Nascar, I don’t do 200 miles an hour on I-15. (well, at least very often).


Let me digress for a moment. A lot of people in our society today have a very negative attitude about aggression. Aggression can be a very positive trait in some circumstances.  Don’t believe me? When somebody decides to victimize you, and the cops aren’t anywhere around, try giving them a hug and understanding their childhood. When he gets done strangling you with your own pantyhose, let me know how that turned out for you.


If you are being assaulted you had better reach deep down inside and find your aggressive inner-caveman, or you’re going to scream and run and get eaten. I see this all the time when I’m teaching self-defense. Some people have no aggressive bone in their body, and their verbal challenge to an attacker is some variation of “please Mr. Rapist, don’t make me hurt you,” in a very meek tone of voice. Oh, that’s gonna work awesome.


Aggression is a positive trait in soldiers, athletes, marketing people, business leaders, and your lawyer. (not the other guy’s though, then it’s bad)  Like all personality traits, it has its place and is just another handy tool when used in moderation.


Violent video games are prevalent.


Wow, that was out of left field. It is like she’s got this big article about nuclear physics, and then puts in a single line like “I like squirrels.”


Now I have multiple reasons to laugh at Emily Rodriguez-Vargas. I’ve got a house full of guns, friends with houses full of guns, and the training to go on a rampage that would make the Mumbai shooters look like the Girl Scouts selling Thin Mints. I also play violent video games, like just about every other U.S.

male in my generation.  (and for the record, Call Of Duty 5 is a LOUSY trainer for actual fighting, though I’ll rock your world with an FG42 and my pack of vicious Nazi Assault-Hounds)


Even children are given fake guns as toys.


I’m taking it that Ms. Rodriguez-Vargas doesn’t have any boys. You can give a 2 year old boy a Barbie doll, and he’ll bend it in half to make a gun. Before guns were invented, little boys took sticks and made guns. Medieval parents were all like “What’s little Skwisgar doing with that stick?” “I don’t know, Helmut, now quit yapping and help throw these plague bodies on the cart.”


Little boys that don’t make fake guns, clubs, or swords get beat up and have their lunch money taken. That is Darwinian evolution. Later on in life these kids get jobs as “journalists” or “Democrat Congressmen”.

Guns, loaded and empty, are kept in homes everywhere. According to a Sept. 23 report by the National Rifle Association, more than 250 million privately-owned firearms exist in the
United States, with the number increasing by 4.5 million each year.


Man! Got that one beat this year! I can’t wait to see the Obamathon 2008 National Gun Sales results. I personally sold 4.5 million AR-15s on Thursday… Approximately.


That is almost one gun for every person in the United States.


I can cover for my cul-de-sac if any of my neighbors are slacking.


This doesn’t bode well for other statistics. The Canadian Coalition for Gun Control, for example, reports that in 2007, Canada had 188 firearm homicides while the United States

had 10,086.


If we want to compare Apples to Apples, let’s take the states that are most like Canada with roughly the same population and compare. Take the justified homicides, suicides, shootings of criminals by police, and illegal aliens out of the equation, and I’d still take Idaho over Alberta.


Plus, like all socialist paradises, Canada loves to cook the books. Let us pull out our cesspools of Democrat controlled major cities, and the comparison is a whole lot closer. Only my health care isn’t crap. Suck on that, Quebec.

The unbelievable number of weapons available isn’t exactly reassuring. No matter what the reason for owning a gun, it’s more of a danger than an actual protection. The National Center for Victims of Crime provides a study that found the likelihood is 40 times greater that a gun will be used against a member of one’s own family than to prevent a crime if it is kept in the home, whether it is committed out of rage or by mistake. The study also found that once every six hours, an individual between the ages of 10 and 19 will commit suicide by way of a gun.


That 40 times number has been dismissed as statistically false on a bunch of web gun forums or by anybody with the ability to do basic math. It has become something of a running joke in the gun community. No matter how many times I repeat something that is wrong, it doesn’t make it a fact… Pay attention, Al Gore!


Now to prevent mistakes, people who buy guns should come take classes from people like me. But that might be fun, and Ms. Rodriguez-Vargas already pointed out how bad that might be!


And for suicide, this may sound heartless, but somebody else’s inability to deal with life shouldn’t cause a penalty on anybody else’s freedom. I’m sure the disarmed residents of Chicago take pride in the fact that the guns they aren’t allowed to own aren’t being used for suicides when they’re being robbed and having their faces kicked in by the local hooliganry and the police are too busy collecting bribe money for their governor’s office or sodomizing prisoners with broom handles to respond. (wait, was that CPD or NYPD? I get my giant dystopian liberal city-states mixed up)


And it isn’t like somebody can’t off themselves with a knife, drugs, alcohol, tall buildings, rope, traffic, water, fire, or my personal favorite, taping 200 Twinkies to your body and walking onto the set of the Biggest Loser. Guns are just more efficient. Which is why they’re also the #1 choice for shooting bad people. Twinkies on the other hand… not so much, but they’re so very delicious.

On the one hand, very few people are actually planning a shooting.


Except for the bad people that are planning shootings right this minute. And when it inevitably goes down, people like you become awfully glad when people like me are around. Otherwise you just like to bitch and whine about us.


We haven’t had any problems with this at the U, and one hopes we won’t in the future.


You can hope. I’ll be “aggressive”. I’ve taught $20,000 worth of free Utah Concealed Carry classes to college students and faculty for when a problem does occur. So I’ve evened the odds for you a bit. I’ll be eagerly awaiting your thank-you card.


The offer still stands. I’ll teach the Utah CCW class for FREE to any student, faculty, or staff of any Utah college or university.


Life is a one-chance game without start-over buttons or multiple lives. People who aren’t responsible enough to have someone else’s life in their hands should be as far away from lethal weapons as possible.


Well, we agree with something. Except I think we should extend that idea to things like voting.

When shooting clay pigeons, deer in the hunting season or anything else, not only does a potential deadly threat exist if something goes wrong, but embracing shooting as enjoyment can be harmful and destructive behavior as well.


You had a giant essay to explain the destructive part, but I must have missed it.  But then again, I’m not a trained “journalist”. I’d rather get a case of Twinkies and a roll of duct tape and end it all than be a journalist.

Although a stricter control of guns in
Utah would be ideal,


Says who?


what is even more important is the education of students and citizens on gun responsibility and an awareness


I’ve pretty much devoted thousands of hours of my life to that. Check. I’m sure you’ll show up to volunteer your time at the range to help me.  The stuff I teach saves lives. The stuff you “teach” is just rebranded hoplophobic claptrap.


that even recreational use of weapons train their minds to love this type of violence.


That was obviously spoken by somebody who’s never seen real violence. Shooting a clay pigeon out of the air or knocking a pop can off a fence with a .22 isn’t violence.


Real violence is hiding under your desk at Virginia Tech while a lunatic slaughters everyone around you, but you can’t do a thing about it because people like YOU, Ms. Rodriguez-Vargas, were made “uncomfortable” by the very notion that people be allowed to have firearms.

Real violence is what evil men are prepared to inflict on you and your family at the drop of the hat because of convenience, or bad luck, or just because the voices in his head told him to swallow your soul. He doesn’t give a shit how you feel about violence, because he’s really damn good at it.


If we accept shooting objects for pleasure, and don’t realize it has consequences, we might have an even larger problem in the near future.


Yeah, and since we’ve been shooting stuff for pleasure for about 500 years, I’ll be waiting for the larger problem… Hey, wait a second. I lived in one of the most crime-ridden inner-cities in America. Ironically enough, none of the gang banger scumbags ever went to the range for a round of sporting clays. Gee whiz, maybe we should check and see what percentage of those 10,000 some odd shootings were committed by people like me, or members of the gun culture that engage in recreational shooting…


Which brings us to the ugly little secret of the Canada vs. US comparison above that no liberal likes to talk about. Pull the homicides out of the mix from the inner-city and poor minority on minority violence, and we’re far SAFER than Canada. So explain to me, Ms. Rodriguez-Vargas, why you’re so fixated on taking guns from people in flyover country, but you won’t address the violence in Democrat controlled/high gun-control areas?


Does that not fit your agenda?


Instead of using mechanized forms of destruction for recreational purposes, more peaceful hobbies can be found.


Like yoga. Or pilates. Or yogalates. (tip of the hat to Jack Brooks)

As President Dwight D. Eisenhower said, “Every gun that is made, every warship launched, every rocket fired, signifies in the final sense a theft from those who hunger and are not fed, those who are cold and are not clothed.”


I call shenanigans. Quote out of context. Flag on the play. Five yard penalty.  If you’re trying to make a point on the badness of violence, you might not want to use the Supreme Allied Commander of the European Theater. Eisenhower was talking about the military-industrial complex, having just come out of the largest war in history, when our entire nation was devoted to building the weapons of war and then using them to kill a mess of Germans.


You want to start quoting presidents? How about I bust out every single one of the founding fathers, and all of them up until that sack of crap, Wilson

? I see your Eisenhower and raise you Thomas Jefferson:


A strong body makes the mind strong. As to the species of exercises, I advise the gun. While this gives moderate exercise to the body, it gives boldness, enterprise and independence to the mind. Games played with the ball, and others of that nature, are too violent for the body and stamp no character on the mind. Let your gun therefore be the constant companion of your walk.

– Thomas Jefferson, Foley, ed., Encyclopedia of Thomas Jefferson, p. 318.


That sound you hear is me laughing at your pathetic letter.

The once-high values of
America are found in the gun-loving hands of individuals seeking not to combat real problems such as war, crime and poverty, but to exercise their freedom to the fullest extent for recreation.


Damn, I’m surprised you didn’t tack global warming on there too. Guns also don’t cure cancer, one more reason to ban them. You try combating war and crime with good feelings and let me know how that works out for you. In the meantime, I’ll be having “recreation” with my guns, which also teach me how to use them as effective tools for self-defense and survival. Ironically, when war and crime show up, people like you always call people like me.


It is no surprise that although we preach peace in our own neighborhoods, we rank among the most homicide-prone nations.


Lady, you need to travel more. How many regular people engage in recreational shooting in Haiti, Somalia, Afghanistan, Myanmar, the Sudan, or the slums of Durban, Rio, or Mexico City? Unless you count the various warlords, slavers, and drug runners executing villagers as “recreation”, the percentage isn’t that high.

(note, they do accept submissions in Crayon)


That letter was even more painful to fisk than most of the nonsense that I run into. What is it with gun haters and their inability to make a point? They jump around, throwing lots of crap on the screen, hoping something sticks.


I think her point was that if you use guns for fun, you don’t have the right to use them for anything else. Shooting clay pigeons leads to violence, which leads to playing World Of Warcraft, which leads to more violence, which leads to the Demon Rum, which leads to Reefer Madness, or something. That is so patently retarded that I’m embarrassed for the newspaper that printed it.



Cleared 300,000 hits.

I’ve had this blog for just over a year now, and we’ve cleared 300,000 hits.  That seems pretty good as far as I know.  Approximately half of those hits are from people who dislike me because I’m a gun guy, or because I dislike HK.  The other half came because I’m the #1 Google search for the misspelling of Swedish.

To celebrate, go order more books!

New to the blog roll:


Gordon Hutchinson is the guy that wrote The Great New Orleans Gun Grab. Check it out. This should be good stuff.

I’m a famous bigot on the internets


My favorite part is how “FBMG are a bunch of mormon racist ****ing assholes. **** them. I hope Obama sends them to the welfare line.”

Groovy. I wasn’t aware of my racist tendancies. My immediate family that checks the “Other” box on all of our government forms is going to be surprised by this development.  Only 1/3 of the current ownership of FBMG is actually “white”. (which is an idiotic term perpetuated by liberals to keep themselves important, really it is more of an off pink, and I’m all about the light-brown power) My heritage is “questionable” and we’ve got a hispanic. (and for the record, less than half of the people that work here are Mormon, and for some of those, the term can only be used in the loosest sense)

I think that this is an example of one of those classical things where if you disagree with somebody on the internet, then you must be racist or a nazi. I managed to get both of those assigned to me in that thread in a matter of seconds. Good old liberal champions of free speech. The only time I have any nazi tendancies is when I play Call Of Duty 5, because the FG42 friggin’ rocks and I kick butt with it. 

If you’re going to try and make fun of somebody, at least put some effort into it, you lazy bastards.

By the way, our Saiga .308 mags are the ones that work just fine. The Gen One mags were too tight, but we bumped them out on the next gen and turned the springs pressure up 15% and haven’t had one fail for a long time. 

Yeah, us poor loony storm-trooper gun nuts… (and why the hate for storm troopers? I see the 501st at all the sci-fi conventions, and they’re a perfectly nice bunch)

I don’t know why in the world we could possibly assume that Barack Obama will do anything negative to the gun industry, despite the fact that the new attorney general was the #2 to the woman that waged non-stop war on the gun business for eight years, congress is run by a lunatic that wants to ban guns, Barack has said he wants to bring back the federal assault weapons ban, you can read the text of HR 1022 that didn’t get out of committee to see exactly what the democrat wishlist is, and the vice-president is the man that actually wrote the last ban…

Yeah… we’re just paranoids.  Silly, silly gun nuts.

But I do have some news for the people that take issue with me. I’m not just selling guns to racist stormtrooper hillbillies. I’m selling guns to everybody. My customer base looks more like America than Barack Obama’s cabinet. I’ve sold guns to people who don’t speak English. I’ve sold guns to Asians, Blacks, Hispanics, Arabs, Mormons, Catholics, Muslims, Buddists, Wiccans, Lesbians, a Democrat state legislator, the head of a union that supported Obama, and your momma. 

Self defense is a human right.  Ironically it is the so-called champions of freedom and diversity and acceptance that want all of us to be defensless and dependant on the teat of government to protect our sorry asses.  It isn’t just people like me that are worried about having guns banned. I’ve sold piles of guns to brand new people recently. People who have never in their life thought about it, but are worried now. I’ve sold guns in the last month to HIPPIES. I didn’t even know we had those anymore!  

Everybody needs guns. 

You got a problem with that?

Too damn bad. Because we’re going to keep selling them as long as we can.


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