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How Many Fingers on Your Right Hand?
December 31, 2003, 12:40 a.m. Something I saw on someone’s art site, under a drawing of their boyfriend: “The gun on his back is a 50 Calibur [sic] Sniper rifle and he actually has one of those.” The mind boggles . . . why? What could a kid from the States possibly need a sniper rifle for? Is there a war going on in North Carolina that I haven’t heard about? Is the America about to be invaded? Okay, granted, he lives in a small town, probably uses it for hunting. But what’s wrong with a shottie?! Why the hell do you need a weapon designed to kill people at long range? I guess you can tell that if my boyfriend, whoever he may be, proudly showed me his sniper rifle, I wouldn’t be impressed. However, I wouldn’t have a problem if he proudly showed me his fencing sword, or long sword. Impressed and admiring, in fact. Why? Both guns and swords are designed to kill people. I guess I can see beauty in a blade better than in a gun. See, even there – I can think of a metonym for a sword, but not a gun. And if my boyfriend presented me with this sword, and told me he practiced with it twice a week, I’d ask him to teach me. However, if he did the same with his sniper rifle, I’d reconsider my marital status. Why am I so accepting of the use of a sword, and not a gun? I guess, again, it’s the beauty. Sword fights, when done well, are wonderful things to watch. For example, Inigo vs. the Man in Black from The Princess Bride. Also, the skill. You have to work hard to avoid death and injury in a sword fight. In a gun fight – duck and shoot them first. Maybe that’s a bit cynical. I mean, “shoot them first” is easier to say than do. You need a sure eye and a steady hand, and lots of target practice to wield a gun effectively. But you practice with a sword, and you can have mock battles with friends and exercise your whole body. However, with a gun . . . what, you get to shoot a target by yourself for a few hours? Kinda boring if you ask me. Hmm. Is polemic all I ever write these days? I don’t know. I’m in a strange mood these days. My life just seems to be endless idleness . . . an idle idyll. Long summer months of nothing doing, but reading and seeing friends and going to work. No contention, no controversy. Nothing to write home about.
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