Few Too Many Words From Old Himself

Hell Really Exists

Hell Really Exists

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Tom Hritz is a professional curmudgeon and agitator whose cover includes writing a newspaper column in that provincial rust-belt antiquity known as Pittsburgh. Friend Tom's answer to gang violence and drive-by shooting was to issue the cracked-out kiddies silencers for their guns so they wouldn't disturb the good burghers guzzling their Iron City, a locally brewed holy water.

Tongue pushed firmly through his cheek, Tom had voiced an idea that was as realistic as most of the gun control ideas offered rabidly by his tooth-fairy-biased editors and their equally head-up-the-ass journalistic counterparts.

By contrast, one rare breath of journalistically honest fresh air came from the mind of social critic Rhyging Solipist, who wrote, "The major role of a firearm silencer is to greatly reduce the loud, abusive blast of a gunshot. I should think environmentalists, greenists, and other glass-ceiling liberals would be pleased about this cacophony-challenged technology."

Recall all the media fuss about "spud guns" during the strange summer of '93? Concerned law enforcement REMFs and their zealot-driven media partners were in anguish about a horrible new weapon revolutionizing gang warfare and allowing towel-headed international terrorists to seize lesser downtown Newark.

Actually, several Texas funsters were arrested, fined, and incarcerated for "being in the possession of a prohibited weapon" early in 1994. Their crime? They were silly-testing an inoffensive compressed air tube that propelled potatoes about 100 feet at a very low rate of slow.

The spud gun is the reinvention of the old Polish cannon, a fairly harmless toy that nondork guy kids "discover" about the age of 13. A Polish cannon, or spud gun (its name of choice among media harpies), is a pipe or other container 2 to 4 feet long "firing" a projectile that's propelled usually by ignited lighter fluid. In the old days, rich guys fired tennis balls while we poorer kids used hard green tomatoes in this silent blaster.

Media-hyped police REMFs in California said these guns were as dangerous as real firearms—totally silent and could fire a potato at 1,000 feet per second. Were there drive-by potatoings in Quayle, California?

Could we ban spud guns nationally? Possession of an unregistered spud gun is a felony fall in California and Texas as this is written. No shit, it is. Perhaps a McBrady Bill with a five-day waiting period? Why haven't our anti-spud media mavens editorially harrumphed about banning assault spuds?

Speaking of media, like being drug- and AIDS-free, I'd like to proudly proclaim here that I am not now, and have never been, a media maven. But, if I could offer some advice anyway (what the hell, they always give it to us), perhaps silencers could be applied to certain of the journalism ilk as readily as they are to firearms, all for the nobility of environmental greening, of course.

So, as a fellow social critic, I agree with Rhyging that silencers are useful in that they make great contributions to a saner, quieter, more pastoral way of life. And they don't cause scary diseases! They also interest a lot of folks, obviously, because my first book on the topic generated a lot of new friends with new ideas for simple silencer designs, i.e., the kind you can build at home.

Despite the pucker-tightening rhetoric of the antigun assholes, there are very civilized uses for silencers. For example, during a recent Ladies' Golf Classic held in Birmingham, Alabama, the county sheriff's deputies provided course security using silencer-equipped rifles to dispatch snakes on the fairways, thus avoiding the noise that had disturbed play previously.

OK, there are times you want noise, though. For example, Ron Birdbuster was telling me how he deals with deer jacklighters and poachers out at his place.

"I have an old black powder cannon operated by remote control up on the hill about 200 yards from the road. When one of those assholes starts night hunting in my field I touch off the cannon with one switch ... KAAABOOOOM!!! with all the noise and fire.

"I hit the second switch, which sets off an M80 wired into a half pint of gasoline down at the bottom of the hill, about 30 feet from the road. It's pretty impressive. But so are the rubber paths laid on the road by the messed-pants poachers."

Then there are the silent times when your goal would be compromised by noise. For example, you want to do some target shooting or can busting but your kid's asleep or the neighbors freak at the sound of gunfire. Solution? Fasten a silencer on your firearm.

My friend Fred Sykes was a suburban dweller and loved to garden. Grackles used to hold seed buffets in his garden. Fred had mouth-foaming antigun neighbors who called the police if he even talked about firing blanks to scare the birds. Solution? Fred bought a very efficient silencer for his .22 rifle.

Laughing through that evil slit in his face that he called a smile, Fred asked, "But why the hell did I buy a silencer when I could have built one?"

Indeed, why buy when you can build?

You can build a silencer for your own gun. It's all very legal if you do it properly. And that's the next section of this book—how to do the legal stuff easily and properly. Please pay attention to the rules. Since the '90s, when the former Soviet Union lost its paranoid dictatorship mentality, U.S. and Canadian government officials seem to have found it.

People who should have gone to prison for life over what they made happen in Waco, Texas, now own the socialist dictatorship in the United States. People should have gone to prison for life for what they did to Randy Weaver and his family in Idaho, too. If all the government assholes who have trampled our constitutional rights in the past three decades were put into prison, the District of Columbia would be inhabited only by petty thieves and drug dealers.

But, as Bob, that great talk show host from WIBC radio in Indianapolis, told me, I should change my literary credo from "DON'T GET MAD" to "GET ANGRY." 1 like the sound and the flow of that modified motto, but, there are advantages to the bad guys thinking you are a tad mad, as well as angry.

As my friend Thomas says quietly, "May Thomas Jefferson rest in peace, or at least walk side by side with lesus if the Second Coming is allowed to happen as part of the New World Order."

Meanwhile, back at the gunshop, Anton Chekov was not necessarily correct, or even literal, when he wrote his famous dictum that if you show the audience a gun in the first act, it has to go off in the last.

Which means that you're wondering why this book's title, SBD, which is the universal acronym for a fart, is just that, our title. If you think about that, it will make less than perfect sense, which is why Karen, my personal editor, did it. And, as a personal friend of the Queen of Vulgarity, I feel she has the perfect right to do so.

In any case, play by the rules or you'll discover that old Berlin joke that Bernard Sampson shared with me many years ago: Glasnost is trying to escape over the Berlin Wall and getting shot with a silenced machine gun.

As you enjoy this new home-built silencer book, please recall what George Hayduke told P.J. O'Rourke the last time they shared some hot chocolate in Miami: "I do not exist, yet I appear!"

—George Hayduke The Research Institute of Precise Machines

Klimovsk, Russia 4 July 1994

His Lordship and Lady Sheila sailed on the QE2 to London, heading for their estate in the Cotswolds. Two days out of New York they were sitting on the top deck enjoying a clear, romantic night. The Atlantic was glassy and calm, like a gorgeous moonlit lake, a 360-degree uninterrupted view on all horizons.

Turning to his Lordship, Lady Sheila said with romantic wonder, "Oh, darling, look at all that water out there."

Broadening his Cheshire smile, his Lordship replied, "Yeah, and that's just the top part."

Which, in a far less innocent way, is the way our rulers view the rest of us here in Dictatorship Amerika.

The power elite in their corporate towers, seat of government (SOG) cartels, and law firms look over feudal America as their national plantation controlled from The Big White House and its attached Halls of Congress in the District of Columbia. As the workers and the slaves, we little folks are losing more and more freedom each day.

Using the narcotic smoke and mirrors of mass media, the power elite scare our freedoms out of us with their choreographed propaganda tactics about drugs, street gangs, gun control = violence/crime control, international terrorists, revolution, insurrection, and on and on into George Orwell's worst waking nightmare now come alive and true.

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