Category: Shootin’ Time

Pathetic

Shootin' Time

Lawrence Person asks the important question:

The Secret Service agent that engaged the would-be Trump golf course assassin missed six shots despite being five feet away.

How does that even happen? How can even you even miss from that close?

It’s a really good, and ultimately important question.

I remember that in a long-ago post castigating law enforcement for being terrible shots, one of my Readers commented that while my comments might be true of the average city cop’s shooting skills, it was certainly not true of dedicated officers like those in the Secret Service.

Ha.

Perhaps the answer might lie in this little tidbit, still from Lawrence:

I’m an adequate shot (not a Secret Service agent who presumably visits a shooting range every month), but I don’t think I could miss a human target from that range.

Forget monthly.  How about weekly?  Actually (and I admit to not knowing the truth of this), I might be persuaded to bet that the SS quali sessions are annual, or at best quarterly.

And in my own case, I am no more than an adequate handgun shot (as anyone who has shot with me will attest) but bloody hell, I shoot my carry 1911 about three times a month, and if I can’t put all eight shots from my first mag into a palm-sized group at 15 feet (three times more than the five above), I keep shooting until I get at least four mag loads in a row into that area.  (If I dump the first mag successfully, I might only do a couple more mags, just to be sure.)

Generally speaking, my first magazine’s boolets tend to end up inside a 2″ hole at 15 feet, with a flyer — and this comes as a result of endless, self-critical practice because as I said, I’m only an adequate handgun shot.

Hell, I shoot my 2″ backup S&W Airweight snubby more accurately than that clueless SS agent, and I only practice with it about every other month.  (Which reminds me… I need to shoot it later today — pack a box or two of .38s, Kim, and you might as well do a little with the bedside .357 while you’re there.)

Jeff Cooper would have wanted it that way.

Here’s a thought for whoever’s going to be in charge of the President’s protection detail:  weekly quali sessions, with a very exacting standard for marksmanship (e.g. like mine).  And for anyone who fails to meet that standard, suspension from the detail for a month — said month to be spent on daily range sessions until the marksmanship improves.

This job is too important to be delegated to Barney Fife types — and especially so as Trump has already proven to be a tempting target for assholes.  That hapless agent who missed from five feet should be fired, period.

That I should even have to say all this makes me want to puke.

But From Where?

Shootin' Time

Here’s a little warning that cries out for some specifics:

Republican House Intelligence Committee Chair Mike Turner has warned that the United States has hit its “highest level of a possible terrorist threat.”

Yeah, but from which terrorists, exactly?

ISIS?  Hamas?  Hezbollah?  Taliban?  Columbia students?  Antifa?  BLM?  Norks?  CAIR?  Red Army Faction? Muslim Students Association?  the Justice Department?

I’d like to know just whom I should be looking out for so I can make at least some preparations, instead of just adding a spare mag or two for the truck gun…

…not that this is ever a Bad Thing, necessarily.

Avoiding That Inconvenient History Stuff

Shootin' Time

The Catholic sent me this example of people with a chronic case of cranial-rectal insertion:

The heroics of HMS Black Joke, a Royal Navy clipper that waged a fearless five-year war to put an end to the slave trade, are worthy of a Hollywood action movie.

She was once a slave ship herself, sailing under the Brazilian flag and known as the Henriqueta. But when the British captured her in 1827, this brave little vessel was transformed into the scourge of mercenary slavers who traded in human beings.

Her crew took unimaginable risks to hunt down Spanish and Portuguese ships and free the men, women and children crammed below decks in conditions of horrific misery.

Read the whole thing, and then its dolorous conclusion.

I would suggest a public whipping for the entire group of decision-makers, just to give them a taste of what HMS Black Joke saved so many people from.

That, or just a simple hanging for the lot of them.

But no doubt that would make me a violent racist hater, or something.

Japs Bomb Pearl Harbor

Shootin' Time

…and in other “news”:

Federal Reserve Chair Jerome Powell admitted that he was wrong to expect inflation would be transitory when it started to rise three years ago.

I wonder what clue he and the other asswipes at the Fed missed:  that government spending was increasing exponentially, that the Federal debt was spiraling upwards, or that the government was printing ever-more money to pay for government-created Covid-related expenses and social program giveaways instead of paying down the debt?

That’s some college degree you must have there, Chair Guy.  You fucking moron.

You’re “wrong”, and we’re being bent over the desk and raped by your mistake every time we go to the grocery store or try to pay down our credit card debt.

Fair Warning

Shootin' Time

I’m starting a new category today.  It’s called “Shootin’ Time”, and it has nothing to do with guns, per se.  Rather, it has to do with news items that makes one want to go to the guns and kill ’em all, the mood as exemplified in this pic:

…or, in a thumbnail:

Here’s a sample headline (no link because I can’t find the article and it doesn’t matter):

This will replace the old “Red Curtain Of Blood” tag because it’s become clear that nowadays, rage is insufficient;  what’s needed is bullets, and lots of ’em, to deal with the utter bastardy that confronts us.

Posts in this category will appear as often as I come across examples of the above.  There may be lots.