16 January 2012
I'm in love--with my new handgun. I went shooting this morning, partly in commemoration of the savages for whom this day has been set aside by the American authorities and the traitors who advocate for them. I used a Wilson Combat .45 ACP. I was--according to my companions--extraordinarily accurate, a 'natural' as they put it. Almost all of my shots hit home. I haven't used a handgun since my South African days 13 years ago. As I've mentioned before, in my late 20s I lived in Pretoria, South Africa, after travelling around Southern Africa, and trained with a local cadre of Boere Nationalists. (Hoe gaan dit my vriende?). When I was a boy I had a BB-gun and sometimes used a .22 with a friend's dad in the woods of New York and Connecticut. When I say 'shooting' here I'm referring to firing handguns and rifles at a local shooting range--not targeting pheasants, deer, neighbourhood moggies, and university students, which in the US is called 'hunting'. It's all very confusing. But I'm sure you knew that. Using a firearm gives one a measure of real power, which, given the general trajectory of things, might be of benefit to you and yours.