Church & Guns

After I said the 1st Mass of Sunday, a member of the congregation asked me to bless his new gun. Some clergypersons would have been upset by that because they think guns are evil. I don't think they are, obviously, and was only too pleased to bless this gun, which was a WWII M1 carbine, like the ones that were used to fight the fanatical Japanese in the Pacific. 

The theme continued after the 2nd Mass of the day, when another congregant asked me to go out to his compound and bless his guns. I agreed, of course, and asked if he was still building guns on the AR platform. He assured me that he was and I asked how much they cost.

"How much do they cost, you know, ballpark."

"That depends, but around 1900."

"If only I had that kind of cash."

"Hey, don't worry. I'll sort you out."

Lee Enfield Jungle Carbine, Nairobi

Let's see what "don't worry" really means, but whatever the case, I'm clearly developing a firearms ministry. My homily on the powerful typology at work in Elisha raising a dead boy to life seemed to have rather less traction.

There's a moral in that, somewhere. In the meanwhile, a friend has sent in a photo of a Jungle Carbine, still in use, at Nairobi's National Park.

All hail Karen Blixen,

LSP

Ranching

Children of the Sun

This small "kebob stand on the information superhighway" (thx. MCP) is supposed to be about country life in Texas, among other things. Part of that means ranching, or in my case visiting them. I had an invite to one the other day -- just a whole lot of fun driving around on an area about a third of the size of the Isle of Wight. Perhaps because of the red soil and the light it reminded me of Africa. Beautiful. The illusion was made all the better by various "Boks" and assorted exotics.

Where's Karen Blixen?

But did you shoot any hogs, LSP? I hear you ask. Well, I tried. The ranch foreman kindly drove our small shooting party around in a sturdy 4x4 and put us on top of a small herd of swine moving through the brush. Embarrassingly, no one scored. I'll spare you the details. That catastrophe occurred after an evening's walkabout for small game. We went out with shotguns and a 22 in search of rabbits and squirrels, but there weren't any. 

Shoot the Pig

There were, however, around twelve hogs crossing our trail at around 30 yards. There they ambled, just taking it easy on their way to destroy something. And there we were, pathetically undergunned. The porcine menace passed calmly towards whatever mayhem they had planned, unscathed. To cap it off, I went for a stroll with a friend's dog on our last day. Just moving down a fence line with a river and bluffs on my left, dog going ahead; I wasn't expecting anything but took an AR along just in case there was some action. Sure enough, there was!

Ford

About 20 minutes into my armed incursion into hogspace there was some squealing, down by the river, as it were. And there, about 150 yards off, was a big pig. Maybe it caught wind of the dog, or me. Whatever, up went the AR, squeeze went the finger and... nothing! The safety was on. Off it went and my next shot echoed out, but no good. The hog was in full gallop and I missed by a couple of feet. Grrrr. That annoyed me; I know better than that. Safety off, shoot, safety on. 2nd nature, or at least it was... Next time.

Typical LSP Hunt

Then all too soon it was back to the compound, which seemed strangely industrial (which it isn't) after the wilderness.

Remember, kids, release the safety catch on your weapon when you try to shoot something.

Cheers,

LSP