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Debate Score:40
Total Votes:42
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 My true story of a savage journey through the heart of liberal America (33)

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My true story of a savage journey through the heart of liberal America

We had just crossed the border into Maryland when the blue lights appeared, and the panic truly reared its ugly head. 

"Oh Jesus Christ, they've found us!" I screamed, dropping my cigarette and waking my wife, who had been napping in the passenger seat. "What the hell are you yelling at?" she said angrily. I was about to tell her to brace herself for me to cut across the median of I-95 and start hightailing back south in a desperate run to get back into Virginia before we were caught… but I stopped short in a moment of confusion, as seven police cruisers screamed past at 120 miles an hour, and I suddenly realized that they weren't after me, they were after someone most likely not doing thirty miles an hour over the speed limit. More, and we'd be seeing helicopters. 

"Never mind", I said, lighting another cigarette and letting my heart rate settle to a steady level of paranoia. No use telling her that if the ATF had in fact forwarded the information from my paperwork to relocate my class 3 items to the Maryland, Jersey, or God forbid New York Highway Patrol, it would be the goddamn National Guard who'd end up chasing us down like dogs. 

We had two bolt action rifles, one AR10 in 7.62 NATO, five different handguns, an ammo can half full of Tannerite components, and whole multicolored galaxy of black tips, green tips, red tips, blue tips… and also a pump action shotgun, a couple rimfires, a case of thermite, a box of raw reloading materials and two suppressors. We had everything locked up tight as per the letter of the Firearm Owners Protection Act- a grotesque example of doublespeak if one ever existed- but what really worried me were the suppressors. There is nothing that quite resembles a rabid dog like a prosecuting attorney in a blue state when they think you've crossed some arbitrary line of legality with a firearm in the most benign of ways, and boy howdy, were we desperately crossing lines. 

In the physical sense, of our well timed exodus from Virginia, as governor blackface demanded to be recognized as a pillar of moral authority and decree that most of the firearms in my vehicle be declared illegal. This was not in itself a great worry, as I did not own a boat, and could therefore plausibly insist it had sank in the Chesapeake Bay with all of my guns onboard. However, in terms of both employment and doing my best to avoid felonies where reasonable alternatives exist, the Live Free or Die state had been calling me for some time… That well hidden jewel of freedom, cut off from the rest of America by a belt of states between Delaware and Massachusetts and extending as far west as New York where the godless commies had taken their foothold on the east coast. Our only hope was to make a mad dash across near 800 miles, and hope the bastards weren't looking. 

(Continued in comment)

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What are you even talking about you idiot? That's gibberish.

Get it through your thick head that possessing firearms puts other people and yourself at completely unnecessary risk. I'll defend your right to throw your own life away if you so choose, but you don't have any right to hold the power of life and death over anybody else. Your country is saturated in gun violence and the number one problem it has with facilitating change is the ridiculous attitudes it has fostered by ever promoting these instruments of death in the first place.

1 point

Not always, and mentally stabl people, have the right to buy and own, a gin. I do not claim gun rights for myself or other mentally disabled people, nor criminals, but everyone excluded from my list because if you are not guilty of a crime, it is wrong to punish, you.

1 point

Not always

Yes, thank you Einstein. And if I throw children into a lion's den they won't always get brutally mauled to death. That still doesn't make it a good idea.

mentally stabl people, have the right to buy and own, a gin.

Not in the UK thankfully because we still have a loose grip on our own sanity over here.

I do not claim gun rights for myself or other mentally disabled people

Well, that a lie. You've threatened to shoot me on multiple occasions and claimed it was your "right" to do so. You've done the same with other members too.

but everyone excluded from my list because if you are not guilty of a crime, it is wrong to punish, you.

Banning firearms doesn't punish anybody you idiot. It saves lives. You didn't come out of your mother's womb with the right to own a firearm so if you believe that then you're a fucking idiot, aren't you?

1 point

I'm sorry, my computer crashed just as I started to read your epic account.

Could you repeat all of your traumatic experience for me please.

I'll read Tolstoy's War & Peace in the meantime and try to squeeze in a Speed Reading course as well.


0 points

Which brings us to crossing lines in the legal sense, which near every state between us and our destination had made either intentionally vague or in blatant disregard to common sense they claimed to be champions of. The truth was that while I knew that my guns were legal where I had started- for now- legal where I was going, and illegal at all points in between, I was relying on the already largely ignored FOPA to save us should some quota starved bulldog in a state troopers uniform be the kind of personal coward to enforce unethical laws in direct violation of sworn or affirmed oaths against political refugees. I did not, however, know whether this would hold up for traveling with suppressors nor expected it to. Oh, I had jumped through the hoops- hours of phone calls, of weighing alternatives, of documenting paperwork and of seeking all information and protection I could find against the barbarians who would surely put us at the top of an APB list could they only see the contents we traveled with… Yet nobody had the answers. There was absolutely no clear cut legal way to traverse this section of the Divided States without entering a legal gray area. Which left us no choice but to pack up and run as fast as we could across this fucking boneyard of basic American values, with an utterly nondescript vehicle that had functional tail lights, moving no faster than four above the speed limit and absolutely no less. Hell, who was I kidding, the only shit anyone gave about FOPA at this point was with regard to the clause banning machine guns. Which made for but three rules to this trip: do not get stopped, and if stopped, do not under any circumstances reveal the contents of the vehicle. Do not stop of your own accord, but for gas, caffeine, salty snacks and restrooms, and never for more than five minutes. Most importantly: my wife must not know of the perils we truly face until we have long passed this danger.

"I think we should stop at a hotel for the night."

"Goddamnit woman, we can't stop here! This is liberal country!"

This was going to be a very tense trip.

2 points

Your first paragraph isn't a paragraph bro. It's more like fourteen paragraphs with little to nothing linking them in a logically congruent manner. I think I found the right word when I called it gibberish.

-1 points

I'm still waiting for someone to call out the Hunter S. Thompson reference... Serves me right, of course anyone frequenting this site would have the attention span of a chihuahua on PCP.