Tag Archives: guns

Gun cannons, suck-guns, and other fresh ideas on future artillery

I think someone should invent a gun that fires guns instead of bullets. Smaller guns. So it would have to be a really big gun, like a cannon. And say your town gets invaded by the enemy. Instead of everybody running into their houses to find the keys to their gun boxes, then looking for the keys to the separate lockboxes that hold the ammo, and then spending even more time locking and loading, you could just have one really fast town resident race up to the hill where you keep the gun cannon. “Fire!” he’d say, and the cannon would go, boom! And it would shoot out regular guns, presto, instant militia.


I’m always thinking of new ideas regarding self-defense. And not all of them have to do with guns inside guns. Although, I just want to be perfectly clear, it would be awesome if we could have a giant gun orbiting the earth, and in times of great need, like if the whole country comes under attack at the same time, then this orbital cannon could fire the gun-cannons that I was talking about earlier, one for every town. I’m just saying, boom, gun cannons fired down to earth, double boom, cannons firing guns to arm every citizen. I’m thinking the whole process shouldn’t take more than fifteen minutes or so.

Talk all you want about the technical hurdles of achieving such a feat. It could totally happen. If they can shoot a rocket to Mars that lowers a rover down to the surface via a robotic crane, I’m sure we could do the same thing here on Earth. It should be even easier, because we won’t have to deal with any radio delay or foreign atmosphere. Again, I’ll leave it to the engineers to figure out the t-crossing and i-dotting, but when it comes to ammunition, we’re only limited by the scope of our imagination.

Like what about guns that suck bullets back in? I’m picturing a hostage situation, right, the cops have this guy surrounded, but he’s got an innocent bystander with him, somebody he just grabbed off the street. And the bad guy’s got a gun to this guy’s head. He’s screaming, “Back off! All right? Just back off, lower your weapons, everybody get out of here, or I’m going to do it, I’ll shoot this guy!”

I don’t know how the police would handle a situation like that in real life, but I’m sure it takes a while to find the professional negotiator, to get him down to the crime scene, all while the cops are forced to give this guy space, room to breathe, time to think his way out of that situation. If you had guns that could suck bullets up instead of firing them out, it wouldn’t be a problem at all.

I’d be like, “Go ahead. Shoot.” And the crook would be like, “I warned you!” Bam! But I’d pull the trigger on my suck-gun at the same exact time. As soon as his bullet exits that barrel, instead of firing out, it would travel right back into my gun. Then there’d be a button on the side, something to switch from “suck” to “fire.” I’d flip that switch, and now I’d be ready to disarm this criminal, and with his own bullet too.

I write stuff like this all the time. Why aren’t the gun companies giving me a call? When are they going to realize that I’m just the guy they need to breathe some fresh ideas into the industry? How about disposable guns? You know, like how they have single-use cameras? Although, nobody really buys those anymore. Not since digital cameras started popping up everywhere. Nobody even has a camera anymore, it’s just phones, cell phones with really good built-in cameras.

But you could go to the gun store, right, you’d buy a disposable gun. I don’t know, they could make it like the barrel would be sealed. So you’d buy the gun fully loaded, and once you used that round of ammunition, that would be it, you couldn’t reload it again. You’d bring it back to the gun store and drop it off and they’d reload it and sell it again. It would be perfect for a gun-enthusiast like me, you know, someone not really ready to commit to buying a gun. I’d just like to show up every now and then and fire a few rounds off into the air, something to really announce my presence. And to warn off any potential enemies. Like back off, all right? I’ve got a gun. A disposable gun, yes, but they wouldn’t know that. And it wouldn’t matter anyway. A gun’s a gun, right?

I’m starting a gun-lobby-lobby

I’ve been thinking a lot about guns lately, about gun violence, about the gun lobby and the power it exerts on lawmakers. For instance, the gun lobby has been very successful recently in blocking any significant legislation that would have made it harder for crazy people to buy guns. And I think about all of the violence we’ve had to witness lately, how, even in the face of such despicable acts of wanton mayhem, this gun lobby is able to shake its fist at Congress and say, “don’t even think about it.” And Congress puts its hands up and goes, “Think about what? We weren’t thinking about anything. We’re sorry.”

Don’t get me wrong. I love guns. Some of my best friends happen to be guns. But I don’t get it. If the government makes me wait on line on a Tuesday morning to take some bullshit road test just so I can get a driver’s license, why am allowed to walk into any Wal-Mart and walk out with a bunch of weaponry? And why isn’t the auto lobby pressuring Congress to get rid of these restrictive license applications?

I’m thinking that, in order to fight the gun lobby, I’ve got to join the gun lobby. That’s going to be tough, for obvious reasons. Reasons like: I don’t own a gun, I don’t know how to use a gun (I’m even terrible at Duck Hunt,) and I’ve never been to any gun lobby meetings or read any of that gunny lobby literature. I guess I’ll have to start somewhere. I’ll start writing op-eds to newspapers across the country, “Yer gonna hayaf ta prah muh gun from muh cold deyad hayands!” until Fox News gives me my own radio program or column on one of its web sites.

And from there I could start rising in rank, I could become like gun lobby secretary, treasurer, maybe even vice-president. Once I gain their trust, I’ll start slipping in my more moderate agenda. It’ll be like that scene from Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure, when all of those biker guys are about to beat the crap out of him in that dive bar, and they’re all shouting out what they’d like to do to him, “I’m going to rip his throat out!” “I’m going to make him wish he was never born!” and then Pee Wee says out of the corner of his mouth, “I say we let him go!”

But there’s a risk here. What if the gun-lobby power starts to corrupt me? I mean, I’ll have a gun in my holster, so that’ll be like its own natural power trip. Anybody even so much as looks at me cock-eyed and who knows what I’ll be capable of doing? No, there’s too much risk, too much gun power, gun-lobby power. I think that, under those circumstances, I’d probably be doing exactly what the current leaders of the gun-lobby are doing.

Man, I’m already having trouble shaking from my head the image of me walking down the street twirling a gun on my finger, stopping every now and then to give a really ominous stare-down to every other person, like go ahead buddy, you have a problem with my gun, with my liberty?

No, snap out of it Rob. The gun-lobby is too powerful, and I’m no match. But wait a second, I just had an even better idea. So the gun-lobby has power over Congress in regards to guns, right? Well who has power over Congress in regards to gun-lobbies? Nobody. Yet. I’ve got to make my own lobby, a new lobby, the gun-lobby-lobby. It’s almost too simple, yet I can’t think of anything that might go wrong.

I’ll march to Washington and speak on behalf of those who speak on behalf of guns. I’ll sponsor legislation, making laws like, I don’t know, whenever the gun lobby says something, they have to say it in a really silly voice, like they all have to suck in helium from several balloons before they go on any talk shows and speak about arming kindergarten students with AK-47s. And then we can all just sit back and laugh, because whenever we look at these people, foaming at the mouth, red in the face, “The only thing that can stop a bad guy with a gun is a good guy with a gun,” it’ll all sound like a big joke. And it is. It’s really just this huge national not-that-funny joke. Let’s do it. Let’s start a gun-lobby-lobby. I’m president.

Go ahead, punk

Make my day. Ow! What the hell? You shot me! You didn’t really have to shoot me. I was just saying that line, from the movie, the one with Clint Eastwood. I’ve never even seen it. Jesus Christ. Do I have to go to the hospital now? Am I going to bleed out? This is insane. Why would you shoot me in the forearm?

It hurts so bad. Call me an ambulance. I don’t know, I won’t tell them anything. I won’t. Whatever, was it an accident? Well I guess you should have thought about that before you pulled the trigger. Did you know it was loaded? Holy shit you could have shot me in the stomach, or the head. Seriously, just put it down.

Ow! Again? In the same arm? I think I’m going to bleed out. Quick, give me your shirt. Give me something. Well I don’t understand how safeties work either. Your dad really should have hidden the lockbox, or you shouldn’t have gone for it. When you asked me if I wanted to see your dad’s gun, I said no. Seriously, I meant it. You know why? Because I was afraid you might do something stupid, like shoot me in the arm, twice.

OK, the ambulance is taking forever, are you sure you called? Can you just drive me to the hospital? I’m losing feeling in my arm. You did call the ambulance, right? Come on man, we’ve got to do something. I won’t say a word. Please. Look, your dad’s going to figure this out eventually. Won’t he see the two bullets missing?

I’ve got it, I’ll take the blame. I’ll tell your dad I found his gun box, that I ransacked his room and found the keys to his gun box, that I … I don’t know, I’ll tell him that I started spinning it around on my finger, around the trigger, and that I shot myself in the arm.

OK, call him up, I’ll tell him right now. Yes, hello Mr. Daniels. Yeah, it’s Rob. Look, I was over here hanging out with Bill and, well, I’m really, really sorry, but I found your gun box and I found the keys and I started playing with your gun and I wound up shooting myself in the arm, twice, and Bill won’t take me to the emergency room because he’s worried you guys might get in trouble.

You know, spinning it around, on my finger. No, I guess I don’t know much about safeties. Uh, in your dresser? No, I don’t remember where I found it? Hold on. Bill, your dad asked me where I found the key and now he doesn’t believe me that I shot myself.

Ow! No, Mr. Daniels, that wasn’t a gun, we were just watching a movie on TV, a gun movie. Yeah. No, I’m fine. I mean. Well, can you call an ambulance? I really do think I’m starting to lose a lot of blood. No, you know what? CLICK.

Hello, operator? Yeah, I’ve been shot, twice. In the arm. Bill, stay away man, the call’s already been made. Ow! OK, OK! Operator, what I meant to say is that I found a gun. Ow! OK, I mean, I found these two bullets. Ow! I mean these bullets found me. Ow! Come on, OK, never mind operator, sorry to bother you. CLICK. Jesus Bill, come one, why every time in the same spot? What do you want me to say? Can you just drive me somewhere? I won’t say a word. Come on man, please.

The only thing that can stop a bad guy with a gun is a good guy with a gun. Or Godzilla.

I used to joke around about guns all the time. But that was before. Now I’m serious about guns. I’m seriously getting a gun. It’s the only way to stay completely safe. It’s the only way that we’ll all be completely safe. It’s safer for all of you if I have a gun. Because if shit goes down, with a gun, trust me, I’m going to be the guy that you wished were there, with another gun, to make sure that shit, having already gone down, either goes back up, or goes away completely.

If some nut storms into anywhere that I happen to be, and he or she has a gun, I’m going to completely neutralize the situation. And I’ll do it without injuring anybody. And I’ll also do it without infringing upon that nutjob’s second amendment rights. I’m probably the most accurate shot in the world. So whenever I’m being threatened with a gun, I antagonize my assailant, poke and prod them, agitating them so that they eventually fire the gun. That’s when I spring to action. I shoot my gun. But I shoot my bullets with such precision as to intercept the other guy’s bullets. So we both shoot and the bullets hit each other in midair, falling harmlessly to the ground. After a few rounds of shooting and not doing any damage, the other guy gives up. No harm done, nobody’s gun gets taken away, because nobody committed any crimes.

I armed my dog. I buy as many guns as I can and then I give them away to strangers. I have a slightly different interpretation of the second amendment. Unlike some of the more liberal members of the Supreme Court – I’m looking at you Scalia – I believe that our founding fathers were mandating that every citizen own a gun. If you don’t have one, how are you supposed to exercise your right to bare arms?

The only thing that can stop a bad guy with a gun is a good guy with a gun. Or, another bad guy with a bigger gun. Well, not necessarily bigger. See, if two bad guys decide to independently shoot up the same school on the same day, let’s say they get there at the same time. The second bad guy with a gun might mistake the first bad guy with a gun as a good guy with a gun. So the second bad guy will off the first bad guy, with his gun – Pop! – and in the aftermath, some good guys with guns might mistakenly identify the second bad guy with a gun to be a fellow good guy with a gun. Having satisfied his craving for bloodlust, the bad guy wouldn’t see a need to shoot anybody else, especially considering all of the praise he’d be getting from the principal, from local leaders. Maybe he’d like being a good guy with a gun. More guns, less bad guys with guns, more bad guys turned good guys with guns. Confused? Yeah I probably didn’t explain it right. It’s all on the NRA web site, so you can just check it out whenever.

But I’m thinking, trying to brainstorm some ideas, some other ways to stop a bad guy with a gun. I haven’t nailed down the specifics, but I’m thinking about designing a really big gun that, instead of bullets, fires out rounds of regular sized guns. This would be perfect for movie theater style massacres. If you keep one of these big gun-guns at the front of the theater, when the attacker enters, instead of waiting for everybody to lock and load their own guns, you could just shoot the big gun, and it would fire a gun out to every member of the public. Bang! Instant militia.

And not just bigger guns. I’m also talking more guns. I know, I already said that two paragraphs ago. But even more guns than that. Is there any way that the hospital industry could join forces with the gun industry? It makes perfect sense to me. First, when babies are born, they could be given their first gun right away. They won’t waste any time exercising their second amendment rights. Plus, they’ll never know anything about not being a gun owner. It’ll be like a part of them. Is there any way we can get a gun inside the womb? No, I’m going too fast. One thing at a time here. But also, where do people go after they get shot? Hospitals. It just seems like we can streamline the process, bang, hospital, bang, gun shop.

This is serious time. It’s serious here in America. If anybody’s serious about taking my gun away, they’re seriously going to need a bigger gun to even try. And think about it, anybody who wants to take my gun away, they’re probably anti-gun. So what, they’re going to buy a gun to take away my gun? And then what, they’ll have two guns? Doesn’t sound very realistic from the anti-gun guy’s point of view. Or as I like to call them, the bad guys without guns. The only way to stop a bad guy without a gun is to give him a gun and then stand right by him, pointing a gun at him, making sure that he turns into a good guy with a gun, and if not, if he’s still a bad guy, now with a gun, well then it’s our duty to make sure he turns into a dead guy with a gun. Got it? Lock and load mothafuckas.

Is it too late for me to be a doctor?

I wonder if I could, if I put my mind to it, decide to drop out of waiting tables, study really hard, reenroll at a college somewhere, take all of the physics and biology and stats classes that the school offers, go to every single class and spend all of my free time studying, get an A on every test and quiz and homework assignment, start studying for the MCAT (MKAT?), spend all of my time studying for that test, going so far as to take prep classes and to hire an expensive MCKAT tutor, ace the test, apply to medical schools, ace medical school, ace my internship, ace my interviews, ace my residency, ace not only every single test that I take but also tests that I give out to patients, get awarded these ridiculously high level doctor awards, set unbelievable records, like, doctor who sees the most patients a day, everyday, in the world, and another record like, only known doctor in human history who has never made a mistake, never lost a patient, never sees anything less than a one hundred percent recovery on every single person who even so much as steps foot in the hospital where he works, work every single day to the point that, towards the middle of my career, the American Medical Association decides to change the Hippocratic Oath with a new Oath of my own writing.

I’m sure there is a path for me to whatever I want to do in life. I’m still in my twenties, I theoretically should be able to fulfill any dream. Like becoming a doctor. You just have to put in the hours right? You just have to set a schedule and not stop for anything, right? You just have to sacrifice everything else in your life and devote every single breath and heartbeat to working towards that dream, to making sure you’re completing that goal, right?

I just spend way too much time f’ing around. And while it would be amazing to get up in the morning, look myself in the mirror and think, goddamn it Rob, you did it, you’re a doctor, a real doctor, I don’t think I’d be really into it. It’s like, if somebody came into my house, with a gun, and sat me down at my kitchen table, and, with the gun to my head, pulled out some textbooks, opened them to page one, and told me to start studying, and then he kept doing that, every single day, every page he’d turn and make me read, out loud, and he’d make me run all of these memorizing drills and force me to use flashcards, and he’d have to hold a pen in my hand and force me to apply to all of the best medical schools, to really concentrate on writing the very best application essays, and if he kept doing that, just threatening to kill me if I even so much as stopped studying and working for one second, well then I think I wouldn’t have a choice but to become a world famous doctor. I mean, I don’t want to get shot. That’s what happens when somebody comes up to you with a gun, right? You do whatever they tell you to. “Do as I say or it’s curtains!” I never got the curtains phrase, like I know it means “I’ll kill you,” but what do curtains have to do with getting killed? I’m sure the answer is out there, somewhere, in some history of the English language textbook, but I bet you it’s probably really straightforward and boring.

I wish I had that in my life, somebody with a gun to make me stop wasting so much time, somebody to really make me commit myself to doing something all out, professionally. I wonder if I can hire a hit man to do it. That would probably be pretty expensive. From what I’ve read about hit men and have seen about them in the movies, they’re pretty expensive, and that’s just for killing somebody. How long does it take to kill somebody? From a professional point of view, if I were the hit man, I would want it to be as fast as possible. Like, kill this guy. OK, give me the money. OK, BAM! Dead. That took like two seconds. The longer you take, the less money you’re making per hour. And so for me to hire a hit man to follow me around, twenty-four seven, making sure that I’m working hard, sticking to my goals, that’s probably going to cost a lot, like way more than I can afford.

And what if after a couple of weeks we start to grow attached to each other? Like we develop a friendship. And we start cracking jokes. Like he’ll start using the gun to scratch my head when I’m studying something especially hard, and we’ll both laugh, but a really controlled laugh, only for a second, because he’ll realize that the laughter means a bond is developing between us, so he’ll straighten up quick and say something like, “All right, back to work, knock it off.” And I’ll get quiet and serious and he’ll be quiet and serious but then maybe ten seconds later we’ll both start cracking up at the same time, like we couldn’t hold it in at all, and this time the laughter is really intense.

So yeah, once that happened, I’d start to doubt that he’d actually kill me if I stopped studying, even if only for a second, and I’d test it out, and maybe he wouldn’t shoot me. After all, I’d be paying him a lot of money, and if he actually shoots me, then I can’t pay him any more money, and so he’d have to go back to being just another contract killer, which, after not killing anybody for a couple of weeks, he’d realize he like the non-killer life a little better. And so yeah I’d stop studying for a second and he’d let it slide. And then it would be a full minute. And then just one episode of Community, come on, just one movie, let’s go out for pizza. And then we’d both be sitting around my living room watching online videos and eating snacks, and I won’t be a doctor, and eventually my money will dry up, and he’ll have to leave, not because he wants to, but because, hey, a guy’s gotta eat, right? And so yeah, I don’t think I’ll ever be a doctor. An MD. Who knows, maybe I’ll get some bullshit PhD someday. But probably not that either. Dissertations sound awful.