Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

Only Police Are Professional Enough To Have Firearms

Friday, April 18th, 2014

I have noticed that police officers in the United States have discovered a hunger to shoot dogs, even if they are no threat.

Sheriff Deputy approaches a fenced in yard, only to have a 35 pound (17 kilogram) dog bark at him from the other side of the chain link.  When he pulls his sidearm to dispatch the offending pooch, said deputy shoots self in the leg.

What kind of dog was it?  A pitbull, like mine.

chris takes his ease

The barking terror was a female named Precious.  Click the link in order to find a local news video, where you can watch the mankilling beast happily cavort with small children.

It seems to me that the popularity of the no-knock drug raid, where police officers forcibly burst into a residence with guns drawn and shouting at the tops of their lungs, is due in no small part to this desire to wipe out family pets.  Standard operating procedure on such raids is to shoot every dog in sight as the cops thunder into the house, no matter how small or harmless the dog happens to be.

Expanding Overseas

Sunday, April 13th, 2014

An interesting article found on a German news website discusses how Mafia organizations from Italy are finding easy pickings in Europe’s largest economy.

Germans have long been proud of the low crime rate in their country, but that is more a result of strict social conformity and an almost religious regard for authority than anything else.   Seems most German children undergo a pretty strict indoctrination period.

scolding mother and penitent child

As the article hints, Germany doesn’t allocate the resources for anything more than middling quality law enforcement.  Of course they hardly need to be more competent, considering the way most of the citizens are so eager to follow the rules.

This system works most of the time, but seems to have trouble dealing with criminal elements who refuse to adhere to German social standards.  Alleged Mafia ties to a conspiracy which defrauded the government made no impression on German courts, and some extremely light sentences were handed down.  The stakes were admittedly low, however, as the criminals were just scamming for social welfare checks and other government benefits.  There were hardly any gunfights in the streets, and I bet the final outcome would have been different if there had been.

mobsters with tommy guns

It sounds like the German courts need something the the RICO Statute that is in force in the US.  I doubt they will take such a step, as any politician who proposed such a law would open themselves to charges that they are following the lead set by the United States.

Try Before You Buy

Tuesday, April 8th, 2014

It started out like any other class.  Someone who needed my help had heard of me through the grapevine, and I went over to their apartment to conduct the initial interview.  While there, the potential student proudly announced that they had already purchased a self defense handgun, a Colt Mustang chambered for the .380 ACP cartridge.

colt mustang 380 acp

This wasn’t something that would normally be an issue.  The .380 cartridge is the least powerful cartridge that I recommend for self defense use, but it is still acceptable.  I also try to discourage those new to the shooting sports from buying 1911 style handguns as their first, but don’t make an issue about it if they set their minds on it.

The problem was that the applicant in this case was so overweight that his fingers were too fat to fit into the trigger guard.

sausage fingers

Well, that last statement wasn’t exactly true.  He could stuff his finger in there, but it would compress the trigger and fire the gun before he could aim.  After his finger was in there, the gun was pretty much stuck.  I only managed to get it off his hand by having him point his finger at me while I unscrewed the gun from the digit as if it was a wedding ring that needed to be resized.

finger with ring scar

Why did he spend good money on a gun that was way too small for his fingers?  Why in the world had he purchased the handgun without even trying to pick it up at the gun store?  He had bought the gun without even bothering to try the most rudimentary test because, as he proudly and smugly stated, his brother had recommended it!

Well, who the hell was this brother of which he spoke?  Was he a qualified firearms instructor?

No, no, nothing like that.  He was just some guy who already owned a few handguns.  My potential student was obviously suffering from an advanced case of hero worship, even though he had somehow decided to seek me out instead of simply asking his brother to impart the basics of safe firearm handling.

Yeah, okay, whatever.  He had never even fired the gun, so I told him to take it back and trade it in on the purchase price of something with a trigger guard that could handle a finger of ample girth.  After all, as I patiently explained, there was no way such an undersized handgun was going to to do any good if he was not able to get off even a single aimed shot.

I went on my way, but returned after I received a message from our friend of the massive fingers that the equipment at hand would now work as needed.  I entered the apartment with mild curiosity as to which make and model of handgun he had finally decided upon, only to feel a great deal of frustration when he produced the very same Colt Mustang that had proven to be so unsuitable.

But all was well!  It seems the girthy subject of this story had solved the problem of small trigger guards by using a cutting wheel to remove the offending semicircle of metal!

motor tool cutting wheel

What the hell, asshole!  The Mustang is a 1911 style handgun, carried with the hammer cocked!  You just increased the chances of a negligent discharge every time you would holster the gun!  And now you can’t take the thing back in order to get a different gun!

The smugness returned, as our friend archly replied that he was planning on foregoing a holster in order to carry the gun loose in his pocket.  After all, that is the way his brother did it!

Screw this, I was out of there!  But he said something that made me pause with my hand on the knob.

“I thought you said you were going to help me!” he plaintively cried in a rather shrill and piercing voice.

“I did help you, you jerk!  You just wouldn’t listen!”

And then I was gone, never to return.

So what is the moral of the story?  There are two, actually.

The first is that it is important to find a self defense gun that fits your needs as closely as possible without any major modifications.  If you have to buy a ton of after market parts to get it to work, or drag out the Dremel to scrape something away before you can use it for the intended purpose, then your decision was bad and you should reconsider.

The second lesson to be learned is that whiny man-children who insist on ignoring my advice should do both of us a favor and never bother to seek me out in the first place.


Zombie Stormtrooper

Wednesday, April 2nd, 2014

storm trooper zombie

At least this one has an excuse as to why he can’t shoot worth a darn.

Pedestrian Fatalities Soared After Supergirl Came To Town

Sunday, March 30th, 2014

supergirl costume

All the men in Metropolis started to walk into traffic because they were looking straight up, hoping to catch a glimpse.

Goes With My Decor

Sunday, March 30th, 2014

double skull lamp

People sometimes ask me why I never married.

Stand Your Ground And Shoot

Monday, March 24th, 2014

A friend recommended a television show titled Sleep Hollow.  The plot concerns an upper crust British officer who, after turning coat in order to work for George Washington as his personal hatchet man, is forced into a mystical sleep which lasts for more than two centuries.  He awakes in modern times, bewildered by the technology and customs that surround him, but ready to take up the fight against dark supernatural forces that threaten to destroy all of Mankind.

Hmm.  After re-reading the above paragraph, I have to admit that it doesn’t really do much to incite a passion to see the series.  All in all, I would have to say that the show is both better and worse than it sounds.

One of the more engaging elements is how the aforementioned military officer constantly struggles to adapt the reflexes and assumptions from his own time into the situations he encounters in the world of today.  Since the show is an adventure tale there is a fair amount of gunplay, and the way the character handles firearms is at least plausible.

Below are two screen shots from an episode where our hero is attacked by villains wielding fully automatic weapons.  Click on a picture to access the largest version.

ichabod crane from sleepy hollow 1

ichabod crane from sleepy hollow 2

(Sorry for the quality of the pictures, but it was the best I could do.)

The handgun in question is a 1911 that had been supplied to the character by an ally, so it is certainly capable of multiple shots without requiring to be reloaded after every round like a handgun from the 18th Century.  Having observed modern handguns in action in previous episodes, the character continues to fire until the fight comes to a close.  Score one for the writers, who at least treat the man from the past as being smart enough to discard old habits when faced with a new reality.

But note the stiff and formal shooting stance that the actor has assumed.  Is this a realistic portrayal of how people from the late 1700′s fired handguns?  As is the case with most things, the answer is ambiguous.

It seems that people would stand so if they were engaged in a formal duel, as there would be time to carefully brace oneself in order to gain the maximum accuracy from the one-shot handguns that were most often used.


(Picture source.)

If there is only one shot allowed, then you had better make it count.  Hold the gun out at arm’s length, assume a wide and stable stance, and try your best to keep the gun as steady as possible.

The stance is not too far off from that employed by modern bullseye handgun competitors, where the trophy is awarded to the person who shoots the best score at a leisurely pace.

bullseye pistol competition firing line

But there seemed to be times when the dueling pistol was held closer to the face, as seen in the following two contemporary drawings depicting the famous duel fought in 1892 by Georges Clemenceau.



(Both pictures were found here.)


I Think That Is A Toy Gun

Sunday, March 16th, 2014

smoking gun

(Please click picture for larger version.)

The detail just doesn’t look right to me.  It is as if someone took a can of spray paint to a perfectly good gun!

I’ve also never seen smoke coming out of a handgun that swirled around like that.  Most likely the photographer has a cigarette habit.

Confessions of a Deathbeast

Thursday, March 13th, 2014

A few weeks ago I was at an outdoor arts festival when someone asked me what the logo on my shirt meant.


I explained that I was a firearms instructor, and that the logo stood for “Rummel’s Gun Group”. Before I was done I could see The Fear start.

Everybody who shoots knows what I’m talking about. You see it in their eyes, their expression. All of a sudden you’re not a person but a dangerous beast that might suddenly lash out and kill everyone around you. A Deathbeast.

There’s two reasons for this. The first is the very natural wariness that the helpless feel when confronted with someone who can end their lives in an instant. Simply owning a firearm means that you’re an instrument of destruction, at least in their minds. This is a silly attitude, completely irrational. But being irrational about firearms seems to be a badge of honor to some people.


The second reason is not their fault. In fact it’s ours.

Or some of us, at least. We all know the type. They’re the ones who dream out loud of shooting someone (and loud is the correct way to describe them). They let you know that they’re ready, even eager for trouble. It seems that the killin’ is the most important thing.

Now I don’t know how any of you feel about these guys, but they’ve always made me feel a little uncomfortable. Not because I’m afraid of them, but because I wish they could express themselves with a little more class.

We devote ourselves to this hobby of ours for different reasons. Some of us simply enjoy the art and discipline it takes to develop the skill to hit what we’re aiming at. Every time we go to the range it’s a competition, a struggle to see if we can force ourselves to have the steady nerves and calm mind needed to do better than we did the last time. It’s very personal, fiercely intense. Every one of us feels this to one degree or another, even on the bad days when we just can’t hit the target to save our lives.

Then there are the hunters. They set the targets out at 50 or 100 yards (depending if they’re using a rifle or shotgun), and they go to school. For these guys every day at the range is a voyage of discovery. Different loads, different projectiles, different weapons. What’s the best stock for them? What’s the best tool to harvest the game? Can they see themselves hiking over hill and through overgrown dale in the freezing rain with this heavy weight dangling from one aching shoulder? I’ve watched them working at it, putting holes in paper on the outdoor range, and I can say that the ancient Zen masters don’t have anything to teach these guys.

tired hunter

There’s the people who like to plink away. The gun is a tool, and they have a lot of fun trying to shoot out the X ring. When they get to the range it’s like they’ve gone to the amusement park. They don’t go home with a kewpie doll or a stuffed teddy bear, but that half hour is the best time of the week.

Finally there’s the grim ones, the serious ones. They’re friendly enough if you talk to them, but developing and maintaining their skill is a responsibility. They get in some range time because they think they have to, a burden that they shoulder because they think that they should.

practice at the range

That’s me, right there. Friendly to everyone who wants to approach me, smiling and with a word of encouragement to everyone who’s struggling with a new gun. But watch me shoot and you can see that I’m doing this as if it was the most important thing in the world. That’s because sometimes, in the middle of the night when I can’t sleep and I’m lying awake in the dark, I’m deathly afraid that it will be. And there’s plenty of people who look at this in exactly the same way.

Every so often you see an item in the newspaper about some nutbag who shoots up a bunch of innocent and unarmed people. Talk to someone like me and they’ll tell you that they wish they had been there. We wish we were in the same room with the nutter, the guy who has a weapon and is desperate to hurt people.

By any reasonable criteria this is completely insane. We’re fantasizing about putting ourselves in harm’s way, about allowing someone to shoot at us! This is hardly a sound strategy to a long and healthy life.

This isn’t because we want to kill someone and the nutbag shooter provides a chance to do it in a legal way. Instead we want to stop the violence before some innocent person dies.

This isn’t an indication of intelligence, either. Anyone who we might help would probably not appreciate it, and even if we managed to get through the ordeal unscathed we’d have to face another ordeal in the courtroom when the perp’s family sued us for everything we owned. Why in the world would we be willing, even eager, to take incredible risks and stand as a shield between innocent people and someone who’s trying so hard to end their lives?

No real reason except that we think we can make a difference. No one forces this responsibility on us, we seek it out and shoulder it all on our own. I think the Japanese call this sort of thing giri.

There is one thing about the nightmare scenario that I fear more than anything else. It’s the gnawing doubt that keeps me going back to the range every week, paying all this money for ammunition and range time. It’s very personal, something that Real Men aren’t supposed to admit, but it supplies a big chunk of my motivation.

If something does happen and people are depending on me I don’t want to let them down.

sleepless night


(An old essay, though still true.  Reprinted by request.)

Why Didn’t He Just Twist It’s Head Off?

Tuesday, March 11th, 2014

Strange story about a housecat which went berserk, scratched a baby in the face, and then attacked the entire family.


So what does the head of the household do?  The guy who is responsible for the safety of his young child and domestic partner?  Why, he barricades his family in the bedroom, and cowers behind closed doors while dialing the emergency number to summon police!

swat team and kitty cat

How in the world did this guy manage to get his girlfriend pregnant when he doesn’t have any testosterone?

From the same news article linked to above, this is a Facebook picture of the doting dad with his child.

man who allowed kitty cat to get the better of him

It is like I have always said, tattoos don’t make you tough.

The man in question seems to be a caring individual who is concerned for the well being of his family, and for that my hat is off to him.  I also note that the cat in question weighs in at 22 pounds, which is very large for a house cat.

But, that having been said, it is still a house cat.  If this guy is such a loving father, why would he allow the animal to live after it attacked his baby?  At 22 pounds, I figure there would be enough hide to make a furry cozy for the toilet seat if any kitty cat was unwise enough to bare claw at my child!

fur toilet seat cozy

I offer free instruction in self defense techniques to those unfortunate souls who suffer violent attack.  This does not qualify.