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Weekly Top Zen: More bang for your buck

I think the Republican Primary Debates are stalking me. Everywhere I turn, no matter how hard I try to ignore them, they show up begging to be gawked at.
After last week’s insane-a-thon, I vowed to ignore the rest of the lot. Less than six days later, however, I was drawn back into yet another edition of “America’s Got Ignorance.”
The highlight of the night occurred when the crowd shouted in agreement that a sick man who did not choose to buy health insurance should be left on the street to die.
Shortly thereafter (or maybe it was before, time seems to have no meaning during these debates), Michele Bachmann described Rick Perry’s HPV vaccination program as a “government injection” of a “potentially dangerous drug.” As the debate concluded, I wiped the seizure-induced foam from around my mouth, and I decided then and there it was time to buy a firearm.
Either way I looked at it, a shadowy, vicious, smelly mob was coming to kill me. On one hand I had the callous, fast food nation that is the Tea Party with their hatred of the uninsured (which, incidentally, seems to be what they are accusing the Obama administration of, but nevermind). On the other hand, I had the hospital disinfectant odor emanating from the death panels of the radical left.
According to the media outlets, I’m threatened from both sides.
I need firepower.
With this in mind, my friend and I set out to a local pawn shop to peruse their fine selection of hand cannons.
The first thing my friend noticed upon entering was a father and daughter in the midst of a transaction with one of the owners. I paid no attention; plenty of people come in to shop at places like this. Then my friend motioned toward the young girl, who I then noticed was bent over the counter with a high-powered rifle resting right next to her. The gun was easily her height, and with this I was introduced to the world that is Mississippi gun handling.
After spending a while window shopping for the proper weapon, I realized that I probably needed some form of permit to purchase a device whose sole function is to take away life.
“What would I need to buy a gun here?” I asked the owner.
“A valid license and you gotta be at least 21,” he replied.
“Oh, OK,” I said, doing my best to mask my complete shock and terror.
I then attempted to forget the images in my mind of recently-turned 21 year olds, legally drunk and armed. I moved toward the movie rack, and I noticed I could buy “Fiddler on the Roof” on VHS for $5.
My friend walked up to join me, and I told him what the owner said regarding rules for buying a gun.
“You can’t be serious,” he said, “Maybe he meant, like, a valid gun license?”
“You meant driver’s license, right?” I asked the management.
“Uh huh,” one said, obviously growing annoyed at the two guys in tight pants who know nothing about proper manly pawn shop etiquette.
It was then and there that I decided that maybe gun ownership wasn’t in my immediate future.
A system which allows you to buy a gun, literally walk next door, buy a fifth of Jack Daniels and then go a-waltzing down the street sort of rubbed me the wrong way.
That, and all the guns were way too expensive. I could buy 60 copies of “Fiddler on the Roof” for the price of one gun.
You tell me which is the better deal.
As I drove my friend to his house, he pointed to a sign in his neighbor’s window which read “This House Operates under the Castle Doctrine,” and explained that this meant under state law, the homeowner could legally shoot-to-kill any intruder in his home.
However, should the homeowner be harmed in any way by said intruder, and he is not covered by health insurance, he deserves to die alone in the streets, at least according to certain Tea Party constituents at the GOP debate.
I guess you have to pick your battles.