When the Progressives came for sugary drinks,
I remained silent;
I didn't like sugary drinks.
When they locked up the salt shaker,
I remained silent;
I didn't like salt.
When they demanded that I purchase health insurance,
I did not speak out;
I already had health insurance.
When they came for my Buck Rodgers Atomic Pistol,
there was no one left to speak out.
(With apologies to Rev. Niemöller)
The whacked-out leftists are at it again; pussyfying American boys at every chance they get. The latest emasculating push comes from the State of Hawaii's House of Representatives.
The effete Rep. Scott K. Saiki (D-District 22), has introduced a bill in the State Legislature to ban the sale of all toy guns in State of Hawaii. Behold the stupidity of H.B. 432: HERE.
It seems that Rep. Saiki, wants to ammend Chapter 709 of Hawaii's Penal Code by adding a new provision, which would under penalty of $2,000 and/or 90 days in jail, would prohibit the sale of toy guns to any minor.
By the way Chapter 709 deals with "Offenses Against the Family and Against Incompetents". If I may say so, Rep. Saiki: Your bill is an offense against every family of your state, and shows your incompetence to all rational citizens of your district.
Who knows maybe Rep. Saiki is just too afraid of squirt-guns
Boq
I know this guy, who gave his kid a pneumatic bazooka when he was only 6, and that kid is now one of the bigger gun collectors in the area and even has a cannon.
So, toys have consequences.
I mean, that logic train is as valid as the one being put forth by Representative Saiki.
I'm also reminded of my sister, who, despite being the daughter of a man who would give his son a pneumatic bazooka, is also the sister of a guy with a huge collection of guns... She forbade her boy child any warlike toys. She gave up when she found that her son had taken a slice of bread, bitten off the corner, and was running around the house pointing it at things and going "Bang! Bang!"
Nitwit!
Spiff
Good thing they don't make the Johnny 7 OMA anymore; Saiki would have a coronary! And we kids in '65 had a um... blast.
The pen is only mightier than the sword when the pensman is faster and more skilled than the swordsman. Even then, it depends on the pensman's ability to get inside the swordsman's reach and either stab him in the eye or the throat.
Safe money's usually on the sword. Although, if you see the spread getting stupid, the fight's probably fixed and then bet on the pen.
Grimmy, you've obviously forgotten the Indiana Jones rules of swordfighting.
heh
0>
-LT-
Rep. Saiki is an ass.
I have to say -considering I was 8 years old in '67- I never heard of Johnny 7 One Man Army. I suppose that's because I was having so much fun with GI Joe & Major Matt Mason.
I was jealous of the kids across the street, 'cuz they had the Japanese Joe, the British Joe, the Jeep, and the recoilless rifle; but I had the Astronaut Joe, with the Mercury Capsule! Muhahaha.
Well, that and the Major Matt Mason Space Station, his Laser Cannon, and the Space Bubble.
...Ok, so I'm a geek... :)
Yep. Knowed the Indy Jones workaround for the sword. But, you have to admit, he never reached for his pen, so, he falls under the heading:
He cheated, so he was trying hard enough.
"There are no dangerous weapons, only dangerous men." -- Robert Heinlein
heh
0>:~}
So he gave the trigger the slightest touch, and with one round from each of his guns, that P-39 immediately went all to pieces. I think he thought that shooting fish in a barrel was beneath his dignity, but, hey, all's fair in love and war.
Even though I grew up in the Bronx in the afterglow of WWII, I was always more inclined to the cowboy ways. I had the twin Fanner Fiftys cap pistol rig which was, unfortunately, one of the banes of my dear mother’s existence.
One summer’s day, she took me and my sister to the movies, double-features in those days. The second movie was “The Charge at Feather River”, not only an oat-burner, but a 3-D oat-burner. I was allowed to wear my rig but was warned against bringing any caps. In one of the very few failures of my mother’s eternal vigilance program, she forgot the body cavity search and I managed to secret two full rolls on my person. During the intermission, I went off to the lavatory and loaded up.
The highlight of the movie for me was the, you guessed it, “The Charge at Feather River”. The besieged cowpokes and cavalry were attacked by the ferocious, in those days, pre-Native Americans. In unison, they loosed their arrows and spears which, through the miracle of 3-D, seemed to come pouring out of the screen directly at me. What’s a boy-cowboy to do but to shoot up some caps to protect his mother, sister, and self. However, before I could get off even a handful of shots, my mother had re-established her normal level of control of both my property and my person.
Later that evening, my mother came into my room with that twinkle in her eye that meant “Your father wants to talk to you in the living room.” Denotations aside, the obvious connotation was that parental supervision had been kicked up a notch to the ultimate level. When I arrived in the living room, my father was involved with his evening beer, cigarette, and newspaper. I sat down as quietly as possible on the couch. My father lowered his broadsheet and gave me his sternest look. He then began his pre-waterboarding days interrogation.
“So,” my father began, “your mother took you to the movies this afternoon.” “She did,” I replied as my father’s look told me that that was all the answer required. “And, she let you take your six-guns.” Again, only the “She did.” “But, she told you no caps.” Once more, the “She did,” as the in-terror-gation proceeded along its course. “And, you took some anyway.” A quick switch to an “I did.” “And, you shot them off in the theater.” Again, an “I did” followed by a failed attempt to begin a litany of excuses for my actions.
“So,” my father began as he took a Lucky Strike pause, “How many Injuns d’ya kill?”
You see, there are things that fathers know that mothers will never understand.
And yes, toy guns that "look too much like real guns" are classed as deadly weapons here and as such Verboten.
To the point where toystores that sell toy guns can see themselves loose their business license and have managers thrown in prison for illegal arms trading if a cop wanders in, sees a toy gun of any kind at all, and decides it looks "too much" like a real weapon.
And that can mean a waterpistol in bright fluorescent green that's a rough 1/3 scale thing that looks somewhat like a pistol to someone who's only ever seen a pistol in a copshow on television.