Beware The Wrath Of Patient Men, by the Raconteur Report

Just because somebody doesn’t advertise their political views doesn’t mean they don’t have them, that they’re not strongly held, and that they won’t, if push comes to shove, shove back…with firearms if necessary. From the Raconteur Report at raconteurreport.blogspot.com:

Dear Leftards:

You irrepressible commie halfwits think you’ve got the cards. You’re the idiot talking tough with the shotgun in your hand, and you’re about to get comeuppance. In Louis L’Amour’s memorable phrase, you’re about to have your meathouse torn down. With a mere couple of nutbags (mainly your own nutbags, nota bene) doing what nutbags do, you imagine you’ve got enough pull now to leverage your way into more asinine abridgments of the Constitution.

You haven’t, you won’t, and you really, really need to knock it off.
I remind you of this while you’ve got your limbs and most of your teeth all still attached.

We’re really not kidding.
You’ve had all the slices of our cake you’re ever getting.

Step. AWAY. From the table.
STFU, keep your hands in plain sight, and walk away, and you might live through this.

And for the cynical timid souls on the other side suffering from Stockholm Syndrome and normalcy bias, desist.
Re-think.

Heller and McDonald, and the appellate decisions that set that table, are now settled black-letter law, and everyone who cares knows that. In their bones.

You cannot unring that bell.

And ammo is as much a part of “arms” in the 2nd A. as the guns themselves, so that dog won’t hunt either.

People in CA watched one lone lunatic, Dorner, tie this state up from Oregon to Mexico, for a week…for one rogue ex-cop.
The CHP wasn’t writing any tickets, because every cruiser was sitting on a freeway onramp, looking for him to show up. The paper-tiger LAPD was shooting at anything that moved, they were so fearful of the wrath of just one guy, and not a very bright one at that. (Which made it a fair fight, in the end.)

So the limits of your actual power are now common knowledge, even in the bluest states.

A lot of people thought we’d be facing ramped up anti-gun legislation long before now, because Shrillary and the Clinton Family Crime Syndicate looked like a shoe-in…until she wasn’t.

And serious people were ready, then, to open the ball you’re itching for now.

If TPTB were to decide they could set the last vestiges of the Constitution on fire, there’s more than a few that would take it upon themselves as a point of honor, not to wait cowering inside their homes, but to go out hunting OPFOR, 24/7/365. And they’d get more than one scalp apiece.

Two lunkhead “snipers” in D.C. tied the District up for a month, and none of their shots over 100 yards. What do you suppose will happen when the people involved can hit their targets at 600 yards all the live long day?

Twenty such would turn this country on its head.

A hundred would mean guerrilla war and martial law.

A thousand such, and it’s a war that Team Oppression will never win.
(Afghanistan ring a bell? Vietnam? Stop me if you’ve heard this one…)

And the conservative odds are that once it started, it wouldn’t stay twenty, a hundred, or a thousand.

It would be a million.

Maybe several.

We barely have that many full-time military troops in the Army and Marines combined, right now, and were those troops to join in, they’d be attrited to nothing in a season or two, at the outside. And if they ever opened fire on anyone, they’d just swell the ranks of the insurgency a thousandfold, with every volley.
Not to mention a non-zero number who would switch sides at the first opportunity.
The military you think you’ll use wouldn’t be a force, it would be a resupply point.

Public officials would be in hiding.

And at that point, government ceases to function, or exist, in any real sense.
Once you have open warfare, you don’t have any America to save any more.

All you Leftards have is B.S. and bluster, and that never even won a playground fight, let alone a shooting war.

And most of the people you’d be facing have seen the elephant already, and been in shooting wars, real ones,  not Antifa airsoft cosplay slapfights, nor the likes of Pete Williams and Shrillary remembering that time they parachuted into combat on a flying unicorn under sniper fire with the 82nd Airborne.

They already know what they’re doing, they have their logistics on their closet shelf, and they’ll take Leviathan apart with millions of bites, the same way ants eat an elephant.

This is not a zipper you ought to pull, but if you do, what falls on you after is going to be so awesomely terrible that you’ll stare in wonderment, right up until it smacks the ever-loving shit right out of your heads, and kills you with as much compassion as a bulldozer running over maggots.

All it needs is a single match, and the your side is flicking lighters in a room full of gasoline and gunpowder.

Now is not the time to bet on things going like they always went.
It’s not headed that way, and the physics of what will ensue guarantee the pieces won’t even come back after the explosions in the same time zone.

In short, minions of Leftardia and Stupidia, you have blundered into a minefield, on a pogo stick.
Stop what you’re doing, tiptoe out, and pray to whatever deity you think appropriate that you get away with your skins.

Because if you insist on pushing your revolution, you’re going to get the war of which you cannot grasp, and the results of which you cannot even conjure in your wildest fever-swamp nightmares.

And your opponents, who’ve been stacking in supplies and loading magazines, are shifting from backing away, and hoping the fight you long for doesn’t come, and instead coming to a feeling of thinking it’s about time to roll up their sleeves, and end you.

Not your party.
Not your progressive communist utopia.
You.
For all values of that word.

Every goddamned traitorous last one of you. Followed by your spouses, your children, your pets, your semi-domesticated illegal alien hordes, your schemes, your putrescent institutions, your metastasizing socialist programs, and every festering vestige of pustulence you’ve spewed onto a country you do not understand, didn’t build, and over which you and yours will never rule.

Your pendulum is out of gas (and had you the wit, you might have noticed that in 2016, and gone home to pout quietly until you could function in polite society), and the pushback if you dare it, is going to be measured in megadeaths, if not actually megatons. Stalin, Mao, Fidel, and Pol Pot all had it your way. Look for those scales to be balanced, at your expense, in the upcoming sportiness you really do not want, and cannot comprehend.

And if the Deplorables you misunderestimated ever set out to do that, in earnest, people will talk about you and your fate for millennia, the way they talk about Carthage after the Third Punic War now.

You are running out of chances, and your continued efforts in the service of igniting that fuse are rapidly transitioning, in saner minds, from being a bug in the system, to being a feature of it, and a consummation devoutly to be wished.

Democracy is two wolves and a sheep voting on what’s for dinner.
But we aren’t in a democracy, and never have been. A fact of which your Common Core miseducation has left you blissfully clueless.
We are and always have been a constitutional republic, which notes that the sheep hereabouts may be armed, lest the wolves forget the limits of their franchise.

And lest you misunderstand that reality, what’s going on the menu if you continue to agitate beyond your bounds, is you.

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One response to “Beware The Wrath Of Patient Men, by the Raconteur Report

  1. Tough talk…it’s way past time for action.

    Like

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