Roberta X (via … like … everyone) asks:

How about you? Why do you shoot? Why do you carry, if you carry at all?

That’s a two part question that I’m more than happy to indulge in. I’ll get to the reference to my title in just a moment …

First, why do I shoot? Because it’s fun and I like making crap explode. Seriously. Say all you want about the challenge of target practice, blah blah blah - personally, I’m not that precise nor am I patient enough to still my hand as if I’m dead (though I’m a pretty good shot). MOA means exactly nothing to me. Groupings? Whatever. My criteria lies somewhere between something blowing up, and something not blowing up. If it blows up, I smile. If it doesn’t, I reload and keep shooting until it does. Either way, I end up with a smile.

If I can explode a vegetable at 25-50 yards with an SKS that’s accurate enough to hit the side of a barn from inside of the barn … just barely … I am one happy little shooter.

Yes, it’s practice and practice is good. Yes, I like the feeling of wood and iron hitting me hard along with the whiff of a freshly fired round. Yes, I enjoy my time at the range because it’s my time and blah blah blah, but I’m a guy, and ultimately I want to see, hear, and feel KABOOM. Tin can, Furby, fruit and vegetables, keyboards, whatever other piece of crap I have lying around, doesn’t matter.

Next … why do I carry?

Well, that comes down to my value of family, property, and personal liberty. First off, let me make something very clear … I do NOT carry for “self-defense”. I carry to have a tool with which I can end a very serious threat. There is a huge difference.

Some thug grabs you by the throat and swings for your head. You block his punch with your own arm. THAT is self-defense. You have successfully defended yourself. Congratulations. Get ready for more punches because you have not ended the threat.

That same thug grabs you by the throat and swings for your head. You block his punch, and promptly jam your finger into his eye socket. As he leans over screaming in anguish, you grab him by the back of his head, and ram your knee into his face with full force and no mercy until he stops making noise and slumps to the ground. You’re not sure if he’s dead. Looks like he’s breathing, maybe. You have not simply “defended yourself”. You have ended the threat.

You cannot end a threat with only defense. There has to be some action of offense - or counter-threat of some kind. Only then can you call it “over”.

I am not interested in self-defense and I don’t carry for self-defense. I carry because some threats cannot be ended unarmed. This all applies to the situation at hand …

Some cretin shoves me on a city street because he thinks I’m looking at him funny? Whatever.

Some cretin leans out the window of his car and calls me all kinds of terrible names? Later, pal.

Some cretin takes a sucker punch at me for whatever reason? You bet your ASS I’ll bludgeon that bastard into a bloody hump of pudding - well beyond the point where he wished he hadn’t touched me.

Some cretin pulls a knife on me at an ATM at 10PM? If he plays his cards wrong, either that knife will be sticking out of his belly or a full magazine of .40 S&W hollow-points will have punched holes in him. If he plays his cards right, he’ll see the look on my face, apologize, and run away.

I’m not interested in “aiming for the knee” or “screaming for help” or “brandishing a weapon” to scare him away. Nonono. Self-defense doesn’t do the job, it’s temporary and the threat can continue. My philosophy when it comes to protecting myself, my property, or my loved ones:

I will end the threat with twice as much force as my attacker.

If someone decides to engage in an attack, it is my duty to end that attack as swiftly and decisively as is humanly possible - beyond the point of self-defense. I can’t do that just blocking a sucker punch. I can’t do that trying to keep dodging someone who’s swinging a knife or a bat at my head.

That’s why I carry. Because there are stupid people willing to try stupid things and I value my life, liberty, family and possessions enough that any biologically sub-standard troglodyte willing to crap on my little piece of the American Pie should be met with nothing less than twice that which they have decided to inflict on me with exactly zero hesitation. I don’t ever want my kids to hear “Daddy didn’t do enough” or “Daddy tried, but the man had a knife”. No way. It’s never, ever about self-defense, it’s about ending the threat no matter what it takes.