Go. Read. Now

The Geek with a .45 knocked one out of the park yesterday.

I smiled, and dialed up the Bill of Rights, pointing to my favorite clause.

"BD, you're not in Somalia anymore. Sitting in closets and trunks all across America are 295 million firearms; personal, private property owned by 80 million Americans. Literally, we have enough private guns to arm everybody, from infants to 100 year olds. That is the TRUE arsenal of freedom.

If it gets as bad as you think it might, everyone will show up, and we'll outnumber them 40 to 1. They don't have a chance.

Let's not be so optimistic though. Let's assume that not everyone shows up for that party. Let's say that, oh, maybe 10% think it's worth getting out of bed for. Don't you think that 800,000 heavily armed, pissed off Americans might inspire a government dedicated to evil to be...circumspect?"

I looked at BD, while it sunk in. He had a distant look in his eyes, as he reread the Second Amendment. I don't know what he was thinking. Perhaps he was wondering if he would have had to flee his homeland if it weren't so easy for relatively small, undisciplined gangs of armed thugs to run things. "80 million Americans have guns? Really? This is true? Enough for everybody?"

I nodded. "Yup."

His eyes snapped to mine, the faraway look replaced by awe and hope.

"Your Constitution....it is....like no other. It is....awesome. It is...." Words failed him, and he gestured helplessly.

I have had a few of those moments myself, and it is both an honor, and a privilige to awaken someone to the true meaning of freedom, and the right to keep and bear arms.