Tuesday, May 9, 2017

NRA 2017 in Atlanta

And on the seventh day God finished his work and joined the NRA...

 

 

Yes, I went to the National Rifle Association's 2017 conference and convention the other week in downtown Atlanta, and joined the infamous organization of Trump supporting gun nuts (it only cost $30). Does that make me a Trump supporting gun nut? No, of course not silly. I'm a moderately left-wing member of the UK Labour Party (who just happens to be a half American gun nut).

 

 

"Ooh, look at that. Thinks he's fucking James Bond this one. Well, he isn't. He's a wanker, that's what he is... a fuckin' wanker, just like the rest of 'em, the daft cunt..." (best said in a northern lady English accent). This isn't a pissy little Walther handbag gun (what 007 uses), this is the H&K VP9, probably the best 9mm handgun that I have used thus far in the USA (yes, I'm probably going to buy an H&K VP9mm in the not too distant future for... "defensive purposes" only).  

 

 

Bling, bling, you're dead: fuck James Bond, I'm Scaramanga, the Cunt with the Golden Gun. Here's me window shopping a ludicrous, tiger-striped, gold plate .50 cal Desert Eagle. The slide on this tool of instant death is ridiculous. More pertinently the Desert Eagle, a bit of a showpiece shooter, has a well known rep for being as accurate as a ye olde fashioned blunderbuss.     

 

 

Boasting "15 acres of guns and ammo" there was a huge turn out of beards and baseballs caps last Friday to Sunday for the 146th NRA meeting at the Georgia World Congress Center with over "81,000 patriots" in attendance and 800 exhibitors. The rows of handguns, shotguns, sporting rifles, assault rifles, machine guns, rails, weapon sights and other accessories of death and insurrection, laid out like knick-knacks and bric-a-brac at a village fete, were most disorienting. 

 

 

A lot of these weapons were marketed for "home defense," like this tactical pump action shotgun by Remington. Hmm, it's a great toy for a big boy, one that would fit quite snug on my bedside table; right next to the brass knuckles, telescopic baton and John Buchan novels. Still, I think I'd duff up and stomp on "a home invader" (burglar) rather than shoot 'em up dead and leave a big mess on the Nepalese carpets. After all, half-American or not, I am still supposed to be a fucking Buddhist.

 

 

Then again, us Brits are suckers for a nice shooter. Take the Remington 12 gauge pump action (see above) which retails for about $400 legit down the local gun store in Yankland. Blooming hell, $400... that's a lot cheaper than forking out for a hot one down the North Peckham Estate let me tell you. 

 

 

Quintessentially English, shotguns always bring to mind Bill Savage, the cockney protagonist from Invasion! the ultraviolent 1970s comic strip in 2000AD.  The premise of the story is simple. In 1999 Britain is invaded and conquered by "the Volgans" (basically Russians only worse). Cockney truck driver Bill Savage returns home one day to find his wife and two kids brown bread (dead), the victims of a stray Volgan shell. The only thing that Savage finds in the rubble of his house is a double-barreled shotgun (this morphs into a Remingon 870 pump action along the way). Savage immediately declares a one-man war on the Volgans, and, being a Cockney geezer type, he always has some grim bon mot for his victims ("That's one more to chalk up to the death of my wife and kids," being one of my childhood favorites).     

 

 

Like Bill Savage, I'm a proper psycho sucker for a good old shotgun. Look at these sporting beauties from Browning. You wouldn't wanna saw the barrel off of them lot, right?

 

 

Wrong plonker. If I'm living in Yankland, and have the right to a shooter, I'd best go full monty on the caper like them blaggers (bank robbers) with the gold Purdey sawn-offs from the (second) big screen adaptation of the popular U.K. TV show The Sweeney

 

"Come on, China, hand it over..."

 

To Hell with the good plated Desert Eagle and forget the Remington tactical pump ("home invaders just drew the short straw"), I need a gold plate sawn-off Purdey shotgun to greet the hapless American burglar.     

 

 

Hmm, maybe not. I don't wanna be blasting me house up with a sawn-off and leaving a mess on them rugs that I bought in Kathmandu, Nepal. Reverie over, I am back to boring old handguns, probably the best buy for defending your Englishman's castle in Atlanta. I had a good old gander at the handguns made by Sig Sauer. The Sig P226, popular with the armed forces as a sidearm, is a pricey but best-selling model out here in Gunland. Though it goes down a treat with the filth, the forces and the average white American gun nut, I ain't too keen on Sigs. However, the glint off a long barrel right next to the Sig Sauer stand caught my eye... 

 

 

Yes you, the private citizen, can own a Barrett Light .50 -- the most powerful military grade sniper rifle in the world. 25 years ago the IRA got their hands on these things (via their mates in the USA, probably some of 'em right here at this show for all I know, the cunts,) and caused nuff trouble for squaddies on patrol in Bandit Country. I don't think these are ideal for an Englishman looking to defend his castle, and I am not planning on doing any snap shooting in high risk theaters any time soon. Still, it's good to know that I have the option, and the right, to buy whatever cowardly killing machine that I want in the USA. Now what you got back home in Blighty then, eh? The right to buy your own council house? Stroll on, Mrs Thatcher!

 

 

Bewildered by the opportunity cost of so many deadly weapons, I exercised my constitutional rights as a half-American (via Dad) and made for the nearest emergency exit. However, one quirky thing caught my eye on the way out of the conference center -- the NRA wine club, and its bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, Les Deplorables. I roared aloud: only in America!

 

 

Until next time...

 

 

The Male Trailing Spouse