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DATE/TIME
Thursday, Oct. 31, 2002 - 9:51 P.M.

TITLE
I should be more frightened of this, but I preffer to not soil my pants.

ENTRY

Everyone's heard of all the dangers in the big city. Its been glorified in television, movies, and books. From gangs to drugged out pyschos, its a common belief a big city is something to fear late at night.

Now a little less publicised fact is small rural mid west towns, like for example where I live, have a whole different level of fear just itching to blow something away.

Well you do see that kind of thing, but in movies like Deliverance, but then you have to put up with watching Ned Betty squeal like a pig and no one wants that.

What I'm talking about is a time honored yearly tradition that makes even the die hard NASCAR fan weep openly.

I'm talking about hunting season.

Now a lot of you have probably only heard about this tradition in passing. Never really witnessed the full effect hunting season has on a mid western state like Michigan.

Sure you probably seen jokes about it in sitcoms or in Jeff Foxworthy stand up comedy, but until you are forced to live with all that is hunting. You never know how truly obessed and freaky scary a lot of these people can be.

Now imagine the most die hard American football fan now combine him with the most die hard European football fan, slap in metric butt load of NASCAR fever and a few cases of beer. What you have there is a beginer lover of the hunting season.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm all for hunting, especially killing of bambi. As cruel as it sounds it does have its purposes. Up tell shortly before hunting season the deer population explodes to uncontrollable quantities. Minus the dangers of all the road accidents and the annoyance of wild life picking through your garbage. The best reason for hunting, at least for deer, is that given a year the population of deer would grow so big that a minimum of 25% would die of stravation. More mouths to feed then food to go around.

That point being made, lets move back on to the orginal topic.

Now around this time of the year a common site is to be found in the Wallmarts and Rite Aids all across this state. Trucks painted in camoflage patterns with filled to the brim gun racks and full grown men parading in camoflage outfits with neon organge vests as if there is nothing wrong with looking like G.I. Joe at a raver party.

This is the time of the year those lovely long, romantic walks in the woods with a loved one is really not a good idea. Nothing puts a crimp in the mood to do it like the monkeys on the Discovery channel then Billy Bob and his cousin Joe Bob blowing a hole in your abdomen because you, "looked remarkably a lot like a deer."

Now I know the urge to finally shoot someone can be high in some people. Hell I killed a man in Reno just to see if I can feel again.

Ok so I didn't do that. I winged a guy in Tucson cause he cut me off on the freeway.

hhmmm

Would you believe I shot a rubber band at the head of a State Trooper in Rochester? I mean it did leave a really nasty welt.

Anyways...

Seriously the fever for hunting season is quite mind boggling. For months during this time of year pre-six o'clock news and early Saturday and Sunday morning television is filled with shows dedicated to hunting and how to improve it.

There's nothing scarier then a redneck with a gun, a case of beer, and a need to shoot something that is also technologicaly advanced. It has to be by far one of the most frightening images of this and the last century.

Now what makes this even more frightening in this particular small burb is the high quantity of alchol that is at your convenience. From my location alone I am within a four block radius of six bars, two liquer stores, and three hunting stores.

I fear for my life folks.

I mean I live in a fucking state that is known for having its own damn malitia. And a very large one at that. And every last damn one of them take there hunting and there NASCAR racing VERY fucking seriously.

We are talking about thousands of men dressed up in various camoflage outfits with not enough discipline for the army, but enough pent up blood lust and love for things that explode to make the most zealous suicide bomber take a step back.

People with an assortment of weapons that would rival any third world countries current arsenal of weapons. From fully automatic rifles, to high caliber, high fire power sniper rifles.

Currently there is a few hundred to possibly a thousand fifty caliber sniper rifles somewhere in the boundries of Michigan. A rifle known to punch threw three feet of reinforced concrete and still be leathal.

Seriously imagine a half inch projectile weighing roughly a couple pounds going at speeds to make it even effective at over a 1000 kilometers.

Thats a mile away folks. A bullet roughly the size of baby's arm able to punch through your engine block, the brick wall next to it, three unsuspecting people, and one partridge in a pear tree at over a mile away.

Now if that doesn't make you shit a brick then by all means...walk through the woods here at this time of year.

But if you do, will me all your shit.

I'll make sure to put it all to good use.




Michael Moore for 2004





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