DEAR MR. SECURITY AGENT: WHEN IT COMES TO GUN CONFISCATION…
Sept 10, 2019 4:29:08 GMT -5
Post by avordvet on Sept 10, 2019 4:29:08 GMT -5
DEAR MR. SECURITY AGENT: WHEN IT COMES TO GUN CONFISCATION…
Posted by Matt Bracken, Sep 5, 2019
Dear Mr. Security Agent…
Federal, state, or local. You, the man or woman with the badge, the sworn LEO or FLEA and those who inhabit the many law enforcement niches in between and on all sides. This essay is directed to you, because in the end, how this turmoil about gun control turns out will depend largely upon your decisions and actions over the coming months and years.
Why is this essay titled Dear Mr. Security Agent, when it dwells mainly upon the media and coastal-dwelling urban liberals and their Utopian belief in the benefits of new gun control laws in the United States? Mr. Security Agent will protest that he is no liberal, he is ex-military, he’s a cop, he’s a fed—he’s one of the good guys! He took the same oath to defend the Constitution that you did, Buster! He doesn’t need any lectures on defending the Constitution! So why single him out in this essay?
Why? Because liberal bliss-ninnies in San Francisco and Boston are not issued flash-bang grenades, battering rams, body armor, flex-cuffs by the gross, and MP-5 submachine guns. No, the dirty end of the confiscation job will fall upon the shoulders of sworn law enforcement officers and gold-badged federal law enforcement agents. The LEOs and the FLEAs. That’s you, Mr. Security Agent.
www.americanpartisan.org/2019/09/dear-mr-security-agent-when-it-comes-to-gun-confiscation/
Posted by Matt Bracken, Sep 5, 2019
Dear Mr. Security Agent…
Federal, state, or local. You, the man or woman with the badge, the sworn LEO or FLEA and those who inhabit the many law enforcement niches in between and on all sides. This essay is directed to you, because in the end, how this turmoil about gun control turns out will depend largely upon your decisions and actions over the coming months and years.
Why is this essay titled Dear Mr. Security Agent, when it dwells mainly upon the media and coastal-dwelling urban liberals and their Utopian belief in the benefits of new gun control laws in the United States? Mr. Security Agent will protest that he is no liberal, he is ex-military, he’s a cop, he’s a fed—he’s one of the good guys! He took the same oath to defend the Constitution that you did, Buster! He doesn’t need any lectures on defending the Constitution! So why single him out in this essay?
Why? Because liberal bliss-ninnies in San Francisco and Boston are not issued flash-bang grenades, battering rams, body armor, flex-cuffs by the gross, and MP-5 submachine guns. No, the dirty end of the confiscation job will fall upon the shoulders of sworn law enforcement officers and gold-badged federal law enforcement agents. The LEOs and the FLEAs. That’s you, Mr. Security Agent.
www.americanpartisan.org/2019/09/dear-mr-security-agent-when-it-comes-to-gun-confiscation/
And another classic that goes hand in hand...
Absolved: Chapter One, The Battle of Sipsey Street
Sipsey Street Irregulars, Thursday, October 22, 2009
"Now would be a good time," Phil whispered in prayer.
God heard him.
The PSR1-A seismic intrusion detectors planted in the front yard that he first learned how to use in Vietnam began to crackle loudly through the speaker in the hall. Out back, his black lab Barney began to bark, then stopped with a yelp. The bastards, Phil thought, they always had been big dog killers. Phil instantly pivoted to look with his left eye at the closed circuit TVs he had arranged in a bank in the open closet in the hall. There was another set in the kitchen, a third in his bedroom upstairs, and a fourth in the basement.
Armed and armored black-clad men tiptoed up his front porch. Another bunch stood ready by the back porch. Phil smiled, for two reasons. First, he wasn't going to have to wait to do his duty. And second, the thugs were set up in predictable attack formation (they called it a stack) just like the manual told them to.
He was sure they knew where he was in the house from his thermal signature. What they didn't see was the concrete block and sandbag fighting position he had built in the hall that covered both the front and back doors. As Phil darted into the miniature pillbox and kneeled, the porch lights went out as the power was cut. The TVs and cameras still operated on their batteries. Phil grasped the semi-auto M1918A3 Browning Automatic Rifle in the firing slit with his right hand and found the first button on the electrical control box with the index finger of his left hand.
Wait, he thought, wait . . .
sipseystreetirregulars.blogspot.com/2009/10/absolved-chapter-one-battle-of-sipsey.html
Sipsey Street Irregulars, Thursday, October 22, 2009
"Now would be a good time," Phil whispered in prayer.
God heard him.
The PSR1-A seismic intrusion detectors planted in the front yard that he first learned how to use in Vietnam began to crackle loudly through the speaker in the hall. Out back, his black lab Barney began to bark, then stopped with a yelp. The bastards, Phil thought, they always had been big dog killers. Phil instantly pivoted to look with his left eye at the closed circuit TVs he had arranged in a bank in the open closet in the hall. There was another set in the kitchen, a third in his bedroom upstairs, and a fourth in the basement.
Armed and armored black-clad men tiptoed up his front porch. Another bunch stood ready by the back porch. Phil smiled, for two reasons. First, he wasn't going to have to wait to do his duty. And second, the thugs were set up in predictable attack formation (they called it a stack) just like the manual told them to.
He was sure they knew where he was in the house from his thermal signature. What they didn't see was the concrete block and sandbag fighting position he had built in the hall that covered both the front and back doors. As Phil darted into the miniature pillbox and kneeled, the porch lights went out as the power was cut. The TVs and cameras still operated on their batteries. Phil grasped the semi-auto M1918A3 Browning Automatic Rifle in the firing slit with his right hand and found the first button on the electrical control box with the index finger of his left hand.
Wait, he thought, wait . . .
sipseystreetirregulars.blogspot.com/2009/10/absolved-chapter-one-battle-of-sipsey.html