Right?

I’m not so sure. And exactly for the reasons in this picture posted by Chris La Tray:

That’s not to say that there aren’t some serious concerns that need addressing, but when I read stuff like the messages posted in We Are the 99 Percent, what I see are a bunch of incredibly over-educated middle-class people bitching because their incredible sense of entitlement hasn’t yet been met.

And that’s something I ain’t interested in. Not even a little bit. Because what it does is reinforce the vantage point of those CEOs and bankers. Instead of questioning their right to do what they do, it only requests that the plunder be spread a little more broadly amongst the educated class. And I have a big problem with that, for reasons that Joe Bageant summed up a few years back:

For maybe 20 years I chased after the “things” that symbolized transcendence of my poor rural background — big historic house with several fireplaces, antique guns on the wall, complete silver service right down to the caviar ware. And when I was done, it all just sat there looking back at me from behind glass cabinets — and I was drinking too much and creating nothing. A couple of refinances later, I finally got the message. This stuff owns you. Because a system owns you.

Now I am debt free, writing what I want, and understand that capitalism is the name of that extractive monetary system. It is the wine press and we are the grapes. And I have come to understand that our elite monetary masters will continue to crank the press down on anyone who participates in this system. No matter how poor we think we are, there is plenty more to be squeezed from Americans.

Anyway, just my two cents, but I don’t think the world needs a movement made of people whose sole goal is to gain their place at the wine press. And that’s what Occupy Wall Street looks more and more like — like middle class people trying to retain their place doing what middle class people do, which Joe Bageant speaks to here in The Kingdom of Survival:

To be honest, I have trouble even conceiving of Occupy Wall Street as a movement at this point, in that  it only reifies the legitimacy of the wine press. And the only movement I’m interested in would be the one looking to smash the fucking thing into splinters.

With that in mind, this from Wouldn’t You Like To See Something Strange:

By the way, the only reason I chose a Springfield GI over a Mil-Spec for my first — and only — 1911 was purely whimsical. I wanted a gun as close to what John Dillinger and “Choc” Floyd carried. My choice is not the kind of thing that anyone else should even consider, unless you just happen to be built of the same kind of whimsy. I’ve already spent more than I would have if I’d just bought a Springfield with all the bells and whistles, and I’ve put a ton of time into it.

That said, I’m very, very happy with the result, and am enjoying every step, as well as getting a great hands-on education in the platform that I don’t think I could’ve gotten any other way.

Anyway, the article:

It’s not unusual for my opinion to be requested by people who are considering buying a 1911 for the first time. In many ways, the 1911 is emblematic of the gun world. It has it’s aficionados, it’s true believers, and it’s know-it-alls. There are few experts. I often wonder why people ask my opinion, but it happens often enough that it must seem valuable to some. I want to quantify this blog post by stating I am no expert. I have owned a lot of different 1911 style pistols. I have shot a lot of 1911 style pistols. I carry a 1911. Those are my qualifications. I have not owned or shot them all though, and I’m certain there is much I do not know. This, however, is my opinion and advice, if you think it may be valuable, take it. It’s your’s. If you think it’s opinionated crap because I don’t fall to the altar of your particular brand of gun, you are welcome to your own opinion.

I do not mean to disparage anyone’s pistol of choice here, only relate my experiences. This is not a blog post about what a 1911 is and is not. If you want to read my opinions concerning that, go here. In this blog post, “1911″ and “1911 style pistol” are synonymous.

The problem with choosing a first 1911 is there are so damned many of them. The 1911 is not just a pistol. It is a weapons platform. The original patent expired years ago, and almost every major firearms manufacturer has produced at least one 1911 style pistol, often several. Some manufacturers, at any given time, can deck out an entire gun store in multiple variations of the 1911. Gun stores are unable to carry every possible variation, and they need to sell what they have in stock. The guy behind the counter will give you his opinion. He may be a seasoned shooter of the 1911, or he may be a know-it-all true believer of a particular brand. Unless you know him personally from the range, it’s difficult to determine if he knows what he is talking about when your own knowledge base is spotty. He may have vested interests, and that’s a bad thing when it’s your money being spent.

Realize too, that your first 1911 may not be your last 1911. Some people feel like they got burned when the 1911 they chose did not live up to their expectations. The truth is, they just chose poorly. This blog post is about how to make the right choices for that first 1911, and how to continue to make subsequent wise choices on the next ones.

The rest.

The John Dillinger Died For You Society, run by a pseudonymous “Dr. Horace Naismith” (allegedly a Playboy editor by day and a maniac only by night), accepts as its savior John Dillinger, the gunman who robbed 23 banks and three police stations before he was shot dead by FBI agents in 1934. JDDFYS members place memorial wreaths and floral bouquets at the Biograph Theater, where Dillinger was gunned down, every year on the anniversary of his death, June 22. Their major spiritual teaching comes from Mr. Dillinger, whom they call St. John the Martyr, and consists of the words, “Lie down on the floor and keep calm,” (St. John said this often to nervous and agitated bank officials before looting their tills). Every member ordained by Dr. Naismith gets a membership card making him or her an Assistant Treasurer, entitled to collect tithes from any new disciple naive enough to remain a disciple and not become an Assistant Treasurer, too, by writing to Dr. Naismith for a card.

There’s more information on Dr. Naismith and the John Dillinger Died For You Society here, including a scan of their membership card, and a John Dillinger credit card which should prove useful in these trying economic times.

I was about to gripe about how much trouble it would be to fit the barrel of Dillinger’s preferred sidearm, a Colt 1911, through the hole in the credit card, by the way, but then I remembered this.

Anyway, much to my daughter’s continuing dismay, I don’t have a whole hell of a lot of interest in religion. I mean, I try now and then, but most of it leaves me cold, so I’m hardly what one might consider a theologian.

But if there’s a better spiritual teaching than, “Lie down on the floor and keep calm,” I’ve never heard it.

I’ve made no bones about being a John Dillinger fan. (And Johnny Depp can go to hell for that one.) In fact, about sixty percent of the reason I’m currently building up a Springfield GI 1911 as my carry gun is because it was the preferred handgun for Dillinger, Pretty Boy Floyd, and the like. I’ll cop to being a little more whimsical than is entirely seemly when it comes to guns.

By the way, if the combination of this monster pistol and John Dillinger’s other, ahem, endowments, don’t put a rest to the whole canard about men trying to make up for inadequate penis size with huge handguns, I don’t know what will.

Anyone else notice that there seem to be a hell of a lot of successful bank robberies in the area of late? Any chance we’ve entered a new age of social banditry?

I can dream.

I finally saw Public Enemies, by the way. It was pretty much as I feared. There wasn’t even a pretense of historical accuracy, Johnny Depp was hopelessly miscast, and, worst of all, there was no mention of Dillinger’s, shall we say, most impressive endowment. That said, it was a Michael Mann flick, and he’s pretty competent hand when it comes to crime dramas, so it was fun to watch most of the time.

And Marion Cotillard absolutely nailed Billie Frechette. At least as I always pictured her in my schoolboy’s imagination.

Naysayers claim it’s his elbow. I say bullshit.

That said, the historical accuracies disappoint.  The film opens with Melvin Purvis chasing Pretty Boy Floyd through an apple orchard. Floyd shoots at him (one-handed at one point!) with a Thompson submachine gun, and Purvis then single-handedly kills him with one shot from a European bolt-action hunting rifle (admittedly correct for the period.) However, history shows that this happened many weeks after Dillinger was killed; Floyd was armed with a pair of Colt pistols, one of which was converted to full auto; it was a cornfield, not an orchard; and while Purvis did indeed empty his snub-nose .38 Colt Detective Special at the fleeing Pretty Boy, it is believed to have been a rifle in the hands of one of the many other lawmen firing at the fugitive that ended Floyd’s life.

On the bright side, however, it looks like Johnny Depp’s one of the good guys when it comes to guns. From Yahoo News, via The Firearm Blog.