Loaded Questions


Clarification: While I have nothing against hunters, who rely on rifles to “bag” food to feed their families, friends and themselves, my leniency does come to an absolute, abrupt halt at the point where / when so-called hunters [1] feed hungers of a non-nutritional nature, [2] declare Open Season on humankind and [3] arm themselves with take-no-prisoners firepower (the type that’d turn most sovereign nations’ olive drab, uniformed soldiers green with envy).

Preface: It is my own homeland’s gun sick denizens, who have triggered this post; seeing how nary a day goes by without multiple incidents of their gory gun violence (the type which maims and murders Elementary School aged children, church congregants, cineplex denizens, grocery store shoppers, time clock punchers, et al); seeing how, weeks in advance of Father’s Day, several Sporting Goods retailers have been snail mailing out their catalogs; all heavily loaded with images of deadly weaponry.

Oh, btw, some of their past advertising blitzes have aligned with Christmastime, too. Ya damned tootin’; nothing sez, “Happy Birthday Jesus” better than sociopaths shootin’ off their big guns, eh?

My state of mind (understandably loaded with contempt re this sorry state of affairs) also triggers…

Some loaded questions…

  • Just how is it that guns have become such a widespread guy thing?
  • Why do some males feel “incomplete” unless they are packing heat?
  • Did my own father really need to buy his son cap guns and air-rifles?

Indeed, even while my age was still measured in single digits, I had become quite the BB-gun marksman; able to shoot down rows of tin-cans with rapid-fire precision. That I could manage to get a kick out of that, back in that bygone era, does amply demonstrate a magnitude of immaturity that, left unchecked, can and does easily mutate less disciplined kiddies into gun nut “growh-ups”; the very ilk that preys upon today’s Stateside society, as a (w)hole.

Luckily, I did grow / wise up sufficiently to no longer buy into my, otherwise, learned father’s dense indoctrination. Stated more positively I did evolve enough to totally lose interest; eventually developing such a distaste for firearms that, during a recent spring cleaning event, I realized that dealing with my utterly unwanted / unused boyhood “arsenal” was long overdue. That resulted in my opting to disassemble these weapons; spread out the actual disposal over the course of several garbage collection weeks (to reduce any chances of someone, someday, salvaging / reassembling them).

Some final thoughts, loaded questions, too…

  • Who, in their right mind, would ever buy dear old Dad a gun as a Father’s Day present?
  • How many newly armed Dads will wind up training crosshairs, perhaps, on you and me?




Be people Vaxxed OR Unvaxxed, We
can still shed and spread the batcrap
crazy contagious coronavirus which,
in turn, spawns new variants; which,
in turn, could, eventually, render the
available vaccines worthless; which,
in turn, will drag out the pandemic’s
needless suffering, illness and death!

HENCE… this easy as pie, cover your
nose and pie-hole/hole-up heads-up:

Stay Publicly / Properly Masked!
Stay Safe at Home!
Stay Healthy!









Mitchell’s Lyrical Enigma? ~ Sunday Songs Series

For week #35 of our Sunday Songs Series, we find Canadian singer-songwriter Joni Mitchell presenting us with a lyrical enigma. What, exactly, is her Sunny Sunday story-line all about? To be sure, when her word count is a scant 100 playing out in 2 minutes and 36 seconds, clues are few and far between.

When interviewed way back in 1994 by Tracey Macleod on BBC2 TV’s The Late Show, Mitchell did shed a bit of light…

“It’s not autobiographical. Actually it’s kind of a composite portrait. I have a friend who I paint with, who had a roommate who did this. It’s just the story of a woman waiting for some little change to give a new direction… it’s a kind of a mysterious little song. It’s also the shortest song I ever wrote.”

As is true with most noteworthy lyrics / poetry, one’s imagination does tend to roam freely. In my own case, this resulted in some scenarios that might account for someone taking potshots at a streetlight.

Might Mitchell’s pistol-packing protagonist be a…

a. militant, dark skies seeking stargazer / environmentalist battling light pollution?
b. stressed-out worker tormented by unresolved anger management issues?
c. 2nd Amendment domestic terrorist totally entrenched within America’s gun sick society?
d. misguided hero worshiper of Bonnie (Parker) and Clyde (Barrow)?

Oh btw… the comment section awaits those who’d like to express their own theories.

For those who’d like to see where our next Sunday Songs Series adventure will take us, stop back here seven days from now…



Political Activism / Ballots Can Stop Bullets


In the wake of the recent, Parkland, Florida massacre at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School, many of us caring, decent folks… worldwide.. have once more paused to consider America’s chronic, gun violence epidemic… America’s blood splattered history. Regrettably, such decency is not a trait shared by the powers-that-be who are figuratively and literally calling all the shots… those who… to keep it real… are supposed to be answerable to We the Majority of the People. And that, folks, puts them in direct defiance of 66% of polled Americans who DO want stricter gun control laws.

Weighing heavily on our minds is how, over the course of the past two decades, innocent souls… some of them yet to even see the seventh candle flickering atop their own birthday cakes… mind you… have been traumatized when forced into no-win confrontations with armed to the teeth, gun nuts (a.k.a. domestic terrorists). Indeed, the victims we are speaking of are school / college kids, church goers, concert / political rally attendees  and other everyday people who are merely going about their everyday lives.

Who’ll be next? Well, that could easily be you or me… especially if you reside in or are visiting ill America.

Inclusive within our compassionate thoughts are all of the wounded victims… who’ll now bear the physical and emotional scars, suffer in pain and contend with chronic disabilities… till the day the take their last gasp of oxygen… how they’ll be forever haunted by flashbacks and night terrors associated with all of the dark, malevolence that went down within these rural / suburban / urban war-zones.

With even heavier hearts, we remember all who’ve needlessly paid with their own precious lives… how many of them had yet to even experience so many of life’s joyous moments and simple pleasures. And for what?

Just to ensure the status quo carnage triggered by the intransigent National Rifle Association’s lobbyists (terrorists all). All to maintain the NRA’s ownership of the congressmen and the so-called prez. All to guarantee this lobbyist / politician collusion will continue… that these conscience barren entities will persist in representing the willful, trigger happy sociopaths… allow both gun nuts and their enablers to quench their mutual, insatiable thirst for human blood… your blood and mine.

We the horrified onlookers, also offer our heartfelt (yet otherwise useless) prayers and condolences to the surviving families and friends of all who’ve perished…

Yet… in reality…

Not one of us has a prayer of ever feeling truly safe so long as America remains ill. And the cures to this cold, metallic and leaden societal scourge will remain elusive unless… well…

The remedies must begin with the enactment of far, Far, FAR tougher, no-nonsense, gun control laws. The catalyst to speeding up this recovery process involves We the sane People, becoming more vocal… more involved.

The upcoming protest movement… the March 24, 2018, March For Our Lives, is a prime example of political activism at its very best. That’ll be the time and place where Parkland’s finest… young students… will lead the way as they (and folks of all ages) take to the streets in Washington, DC (and all across America).

Properly filling in ballots can also stop the flying bullets. We must call out and/or vote out each and every defiant, cantankerous, cancerous, know nothing, do nothing, good for nothing lobbyist owned politician. After all, those unscrupulous entities are the idols of each and every mentally disturbed creature who has ever scratched his itchy trigger finger to declare open season on humanity.


My thanks to follower and reader Yassy for inspiring today’s post.