More Guns = Less Homicides?

After the Orlando shooting, you'd be forgiven for thinking that America is murderously out of control, but that's not true. According to FBI data, there are less homicides now than at any time since 1963, when there were 4.6 slayings per 100,000 people. As of 2014 there were 4.5.

The 1970s, '80s and '90s were far more deadly, as the above kill chart shows. So what's changed? At least two things; gun ownership and prison. As the US murder rate fell by 49% over the last 20 years, there was a 141% increase in the number of guns available to the public. By the anti-gun lobby's reckoning, America should be more violent now than ever, but no.

Prison is also a factor, with the last 30 years seeing a remarkable 790% increase in the federal prison population, from 25,000 to 219,000 inmates. It's presumably harder for violent people to go out and shoot someone when they're behind bars.

How Did You Get Here?

That aside, something's changed, something which makes people feel less safe and more likely to get shot at work in San Bernardino or a nightclub in Orlando, or a concert in Paris, or an office building in New York, or... the list goes on.

Oh Look, Islam

What's new here? Not more guns, statistics show that more of them don't add up to more shootings. Not jail time either, after all, you can't shoot up a club from the confines of your cell. So what's changed?

Like Buddhism, But Way More peaceful

Surely it wouldn't have anything to do with Islam.

Kizmet,

LSP

Range Warriors

"People don't need to be afraid of a citizen's militia," said LL as he idly swung a razor sharp tomahawk at the head of a passing snake, "No, not unless they're a pajama boy, living in their parent's Upper West Side apartment, wearing a onesie and whining about microaggression."

Deadly Assault Carbine and a Truck

"And most people aren't like that," I replied, in between fusillades of 5.56 at an unsuspecting piece of steel some 100 yards away, "Especially in Texas." LL agreed, "Not in Texas." Small cal semi training over, we moved on to the next evolution. Riot control.

Get That Riot Under Control!

The riot control component of the day's course was simple. Two shooters take a Glock 21 each and suppress a riot from close range, 25-30 yards, the riot being an old metal kettle and accurate speed shooting being the method. 13 rounds, fast, on the riot kettle.

A Typical Wheel Gun

Go! Off went the Glocks and down went the kettle mutiny in a blaze of .45 ACP. OK, the .45 isn't the mighty .460 Magnum, which can take out a grizzly bear, and it's not the awesome .357 Magnum, which has the raw power to shoot through an engine block. But still, it gets the job done and done well.

Python Power

A good day was had by all, and rumors of celebratory ribeye steaks are entirely with foundation.

Shoot straight,

LSP

Shoot Your Guns

Some people have ONE gun, others have several, but whatever the case, the song remains the same. If you're going to be any good with firearms you have to actually shoot them, as opposed to staring at them fondly as they stand gleaming in their racks.

Thieves

That was brought home to me a little while ago, after a dismal offhand performance against some steel plates. The expression, "couldn't spot a thieving hippy on the hustle in Austin from 10 paces" totally applied, embarrassingly. So I set out to change that, with a Glock 21, an AR 15 and a Ruger American .22.

After a brisk warm up against an unfortunate silhouette, the plates were swinging at 50 and 75 yards. Well done, Ruger. 

Here's a Handy Chart

I left the rifle zeroed at 50 yards; just dial it up a fraction under 5.5" for 100 yards. And note how the Ruger American takes the ubiquitous 10/22 30 round magazine. Good job, team.

The AR did fine, too, and made handy work of an empty value pack of .223. It has a Primary Arms 1x6 scope on it, which I'm tempted to upgrade. Perhaps with a Vortex Strike Eagle.

Then there's Glock. Some people don't like Glocks and call them "rubbish." Well, the Glock 21 isn't a Colt Python and it can't send the mighty .357 Magnum through your enemy's engine block, but still, I'm not complaining. That pistol is all business.

Shoot over, head for home.

Gun Rights,

LSP

Palm Sunday Prepper

"I've always been a prepper, because I've always been prepared, but some of these guys are too narrow. Their plan lacks perspective... I turn up at their fort with a canon and I start pounding that compound with hot shot. What then? Yeah, maybe they run out, perhaps they sally forth. I want that, I want them in my kill box." (From An Operator in Texas)

Don't get me wrong, I think it's right to be prepared but some ways make more sense than others, which is how the conversation flowed after Palm Sunday Mass #2.

"So how's the 'community'?"

"You know, there's a lot of people out there prepping for the least likely of all scenarios."

"Like the Hillary campaign getting honest?"

"Yeah, or an asteroid hitting the earth, whatever."

"Or some TAC guy turns up and starts shelling you with a trebuchet."

"Right. They're all concentrating on these never-gonna-happen outcomes."

Until, of course, that they do. But seriously, what's wrong with getting back to basics? Learning, for example, how to hunt, clean and cook your own food? Knowing, if you don't already, how to shoot, or being able to live because you sensibly know how to grow food and had the foresight to ensure that you'd have water if the grid goes down? 

And on. The point being, go off and learn all the AR 15 drills you can, and more power to you; become an ace shot, why not? Stockpile ammo, even, but more importantly, learn basic self-sufficiency. 

There just might come a point when that'll stand you in good stead, and it's a virtue in itself. 

Except, of course, when it comes to God. Then it's just wicked pride.

Prep On,

LSP

Mighty Hunter

A seasoned veteran of the intelligence community threatens to visit for a pig hunt in April and I think his method goes roughly like this. Wait for a massive tusker to charge you and then, calmly, deliberately, shoot it with a .357 Magnum revolver. Probably a Colt Python. In the meanwhile, LSP stands back with a 30 of some sort and a sharp kukri. 

LL Visits Texas

With that in mind, here's a typical hunting tale. 

As I patrolled along a hi-fenceline the dog came to a point, all attention, and there, 150 yards downhill to my left was a giant black pig, black hair bristling menacingly in the hot white light of a Texan morning.

Someone's Pig Hunt Gone Wrong

Fast as you like and maybe faster, up comes my AR, red dot hold on the shoulder of the pig, breathe, squeeze the trigger and... nothing. Try it again, is the gun broken? and... nothing. A split second of consternation.

Random Pictograph Somewhere in Texas

Then thumb-off the safety, fire, and the hog's running like a speeding maglev, barreling through the dystopian ruins of Detroit towards the Windsor tunnel. That one got off to fight again another day. 

Maybe this good fortune will change sometime soon.

Attention to detail,

LSP

Ride & Shoot

One of the benefits of living in rural Texas is that you can marvel at the sheer greenness of the grass as you ride your horse through the Lone Star State's verdant water meadows. 

My philisophical pal, GWB, would say that Texas is locked into radical mimetic rivalry with the Emerald Isle. He's heavily influenced by some Frenchman called "Girard."

Then you get out in the open and pick up a gallop, wind in your face and Frenchmen forgotten as your horse's neck lengthens and she gets into her stride. Charge! No end of exhilaration.

Ride over, head off to the ranch's range and test out a rifle. Just you, the gun and the countryside in the setting sun. 

I like the muzzle flash as dusk closes in, not that I'm immature or anything. Come to think of it, tracers might be neat too...

God Bless Texas,

LSP

The Four Seasons

Everyone wants to stay at the Four Seasons because it has Sweepstakes, Internet and Fun Time. "What's the 'Fun Time'?" I asked the old rocker behind the counter of the next door gas station. I was curious, "Would that be Internet or Sweepstakes?" 

He pondered this for a moment, "Well, they can go in there and get on the internet, which can be kind of fun. Then they can gamble." Maybe I didn't look too convinced at the prospect and the truth came out, "And there's a bar." That would account for it, mystery solved. 

We talked for a bit about England and its pubs, which I miss, and he asked what had gone wrong with the country and how soon it'd turn Muslim. "How'd that happen?" he asked, pushing back his hair. 

Random Gun & Hat

"Good question," I replied, "They went lib, shariasymp lib. ISIS laughs." My new friend agreed, he had no time for commies, libs or the Jihad of Peace, but he did like Churchill.

So stay at the Four Seasons and visit the gas station. You'll find it on Hwy 22, heading west to Lake Whitney.

God bless,

LSP

A Prayer Poem For The Feast

It's the evening of the Feast of St. Matthias and all's quiet here at the Compound, apart from the sharp click of magazines going into their wells, rifle bolts being worked and pistol slides racking in the action. And the sound of sirens filling the air as the local PD heads West over the railway tracks to take down a meth lab under the light of a silver moon.

As you reflect on this comforting scene of rural Texan tranquility, here's something to steer the mind towards holier things. It's from the Eastern Breviary.

O apostle Mathias! thou didst complete the sacred college, from which Judas had fallen; and by the power of the Holy Ghost, thou didst put to flight the darkness of idolatry by the admirable lightnings of thy wise words. Do thou now beseech the Lord that he grant peace and much mercy to our souls.

He that is the true Vine sent thee, a fruitful branch, bearing the grapes that give out the wine of salvation. When they drank it that before were slaves to ignorance, they turned from the drunkenness of error.

Being made, O glorious Mathias, the chariot of God's word, thou didst break for ever the wheels of error, and the chariots of iniquity. By the divine power, thou didst defeat the idolaters, and destroy the pillars and the temples; but thou didst build up to the Trinity other temples, which echoed with these words All ye people, praise Christ above all for ever!

The drunkenness of error. I'd say there's a surfeit of that, right about now.

Your Old Friend,

LSP 

The Gun is Not a Pet

Guns aren't pets to be looked at, stroked and patted on the head, even if you do love them. No, they're tools, machines built with a purpose and made to be used. With that in mind, a friend came over from Dallas and we drove out to the range with a truckload of guns.

A Pet

First things first, see if my pal's Remington semi .22 was dialed in. It wasn't but the scope was soon put to rights. The Ruger American was right on and the more I shoot it the more I like it. Handy little bolter.

Some Guns

An old Winchester pump .22 did just fine too, handily taking down some steel plates and a small silhouette at 100 yards. I like that gun, and there was nothing wrong with an AR, either. Well done, Spikes Tactical, Fortis, Ballistic Advantage and Primary Arms. Put the dot on the target and off you go.

Dial it In

And then there's Glock. Some people scorn them, "they're rubbish." I disagree, a right workhorse of a pistol and all business. Breathe, squeeze the trigger, take down the plate, or whatever. For some reason I shot better at 30 yards than I did at 15. Weird, but true.

Some Old Guy With a Gun(s)

We finished off by blasting a plastic water container down the range with a single shot Boita (?) .20 gauge. Big fun.

So now you know. Happy Presidents Day.

LSP

Presidents Day!

Here's a helpful infographic for Presidents Day, see if you can spot the odd men out.  While you reflect on that, ponder another mystery. Turkey's Mad Sultan, Erdogan, is shelling Syian army and Kurdish positions near Aleppo as Saudi Arabia flies planes into Incirlik for raids against Assad forces.

Some think that the Mad Sultan and his friends will invade Syria to protect their ISIS proxy army and lift the siege of Aleppo. Russia, presumably, will run away like a scolded cat.  Or, on the other hand, it will destroy the crazed Sultan's invading phalanx and shoot down Saudi Arabia's airforce. Which course of action do you think Russian President, Vladimir Putin, is most likely to take?

As this drama plays out in the hot sands of the Levant, Blue Eschaton guards the Compound against the impending apocalypse and I'm off to the range for some small arms practice.

Never trust a hippy,

LSP

A Chance Encounter in Texas

We all get into routines, some are good, some less so. My routine is this. Say Morning Prayer from the 1928 Prayer Book, none of your newfangled rubbish, thank you very much, then take the dog for a walk and get a coffee. That's what I did today, and as I was standing outside the filling station, sipping my coffee, and enjoying the crisp, sunny Texan morning, I heard singing.

It was faint at first and sounded like a spiritual. The singing grew louder; sure enough, it was a spiritual and its source was a middle aged black man walking down the road by the 1st Baptist Church. He was wearing a Russian style hat with ear flaps and a dirty old parka, defense against the cold, I suppose.

Blue Stryker went on guard as the singing gentleman came closer and stopped,  just out of range of the leashed dog. I smiled at him and he smiled back, "Is that a cow dog?" he asked, "They're real smart dogs! I got three. Say, do you have a cigarette?" I told I did and threw him one, as he cleverly stayed out of the dog's attack zone. "Bless you, brother," he said, and went on his way, singing his spiritual. "God bless you," I replied, and meant it.

I liked that man and file this story under "country life in Texas."

Your Old Friend,

LSP

Anti-Jihad Kit Review -- The Eureka Airspeed One Turbo

You can sit back and let all the others do the work in the war on terror, but don't start whining and crying when the local mujahideen chop off your buddy's hand as you pay your taqiya. Sure, go right ahead and do that. Or you can get proactive and bring the fight to the enemy.

That's what I did today, in the form of a Eureka Airspeed One Turbo. The Eureka promises to move "MORE AIR" as it "REMOVES MORE DIRT," all thanks to something called "Airspeed Technology." 

That's the marketing, does it deliver? I decided to find out by testing this anti-terror tool against some Jihad dirt that was hiding out in an old Moslem carpet.

The Eureka's easy to assemble, and in no time at all a number of Takfiri terrorists were cleaned out of their strongholds and thrown in the trash where they belonged. 

So yes, the Eureka works, and it's lightweight, too, which gives this dirt-buster good operational versatility. It also has a 25' cable, ensuring longer continuous action against the so-called "militants," and an array of attachments for hitting stairs, crevices and upholstery. 

You'll note the weapon is accented in electric lime green, giving it high-viz recognition to friendly forces. An asset on this battlefield.

Would I recommend it to a friend? Yes, I would. The little beast works. Is it tactical? I'd have thought that was obvious. But how much does it cost? A bit less than 2 "value" packs of Remington .223. Are there any cons? I didn't find any on this test run against the enemy.

So go out and get a Eureka Airspeed One Turbo and play your part in beating the Jihad back on the home front. 

You can find them at Walmart, on the other side of the store from the guns and ammo.

LSP