See, there is a large amount of sadness attached to this post, which was at first to be a glowing review of my, of course, fantastic time at San Diego Comic Con 2012. But it’s not like I haven’t done that before. You have read that article already, numerous times. And, unfortunately, in the world of nerd, it is not the biggest news right now. The fun of SDCC has been eclipsed.
Rather, the most important dweeb-related story, the one that has been on the forefront of my mind, is that some utter waste of genetic material, water, carbon and intracellular gas-exchanges wound up stockpiling a small arsenal, attending the midnight showing of Dark Knight Rises, and summarily murdering twelve people, injuring several times that many, and psychologically damaging the remainder from having to witness such horror.
No, this wasn’t the first such mass shooting in American history, and I highly doubt it will be the last. No, it wasn’t the most deadly. The Virginia Tech shooting claimed the lives of three times that many. But this incident did hit the closest to home to me, because I am a nerd, and so might I imagine was the bulk of the audience that night. Midnight showings of comic book movies are about as close to a midnight mass as you will ever catch me in, and I can’t help but feel a rather unrealistic but still present sense of guilt for having not been there to make an effort to try to stop the madman with whatever weapon was at my disposal, most likely a knife, and most likely winding up in my own death but also just as likely winding up in the repeated face stabbing of one certain psychopath as I bled to death on top of his convulsing, recently made eye-less body.
Like most angry Americans with proficiencies in violent acts, in the wake of 9-11 I spent quite a bit of time drilling in my head what I would do in the event of a hijacking in the air. And accordingly, as mass shootings have filled our collective consciousness over the years, I have made emergency plans in my head of what my reaction would be to such an event. And while I know that this is not a healthy train of thought, that the averages indicate riding my KTM around this city is much more dangerous and likely to bring about my mortality, none the less these thoughts persist.
Truthfully, I have on more than one occasion thought about what would happen were some nut or organized group of nuts to start shooting panicked dorks at Comic Con. It’s a fine target for your gun-wielding madman/madmen: full of innocence so deliciously dripping with positivity that the evil in our society would no doubt be salivating at the thought of ruining it. Hell, the Westborough Baptist Church protested Comic Con. Someone is always there holding up a sign indicating that we nerds are all going to hell for appreciating superheroes in addition to, or instead of, Jesus, Mohammed or Yaweh or whatever. And while I generally want to steal the signs from said people and shove them up the self-righteous, deluded buttholes of these protesters, I have successfully fought the urge for years because I believe in the basic tenets of free speech. Nobody ever holds up a sign saying: “I am against cancer and you cannot stop me!” Or, “Let us all have free ice cream; damn the government anti-ice cream agenda!” Instead, legions of the fucktarded tell us that God hates us or that teenage rape victims should consider their attackers’ babies to be gifts from the lord - or that black/brown/white/nerds should all go back to where they came from. The latter being rather odd as nerds at Comic Con are technically right where they belong, all in one place that one could easily avoid were one so averted to the presence of said persons such as us.
Unfortunately, we Americans cannot seem to avoid assholes with access to firearms who want to kill us for whatever inane and insane reasons they come up with while no doubt fighting the urge to rape ducklings or whatever thing made them so frustrated they felt compelled to kill. We can’t even agree on any legislation to attempt to curb this problem, nor even bother to figure out a modern-day definition of what exactly a “well-regulated militia” indeed is - and whether or not a human pimple on the skin of society like Ted Nugent has any-fucking-business having a say in the matter.
Nor can we seem to figure out why exactly the Second Amendment of the Constitution is so apparently important as opposed to the Third Amendment, which also seems to be a dated relic of the time that the document was authored wherein soldiers were routinely taking over peoples’ homes in times of peace thereby extending the British rule into occupation, which would really make sense that one would feel angry and want to form one’s own army in the wake of such aggression. If I constantly had to put up Adam in my house when he was a Ranger, I’d be pissed too and probably want to buy and Uzi. Because he snores. Lots. And farts. Lots.
But as we now have civilian police forces staffed by our friends, family and neighbors; an all-volunteer military service comprised of the same; and a demilitarized culture that does not rally behind ANY leader - let alone one who like the Emperor of Japan is considered to be an infallible voice of God - I don’t really see any goddamn reason as to why one’s rights as an American citizen are infringed upon by the presence of legislation stating that perhaps there is no valid reason why one would need an AR-15 assault rifle with a 100 round drum magazine attached to it, a .50 caliber sniper rifle capable of shooting through armor plating from a mile away, or – I don’t know – 5000 rounds of ammunition.
Yeah, you’re right. I’m a voice of the government trying to disarm the populace so my buddies and I can rule with an iron fist over you and then make you marry gay people. Granted, I live in an apartment next door to many of you and do have to sleep now and then, so that would probably not turn out well for me in the end, but whatever. Let’s all get armed to the teeth. It worked pretty well in the Wild West - never any violence there.
PS: I had a blast at the Con. So did the rest of the attendees. We will continue to do so every year for as long as we dorks are able to, despite the efforts of those protesting religious zealots who I hope stay disarmed for years to come. But if they don’t, at least two of them have nasty surprises coming as long as Adam and I are around. I know which booth sells the fantasy bladed weapons, and I’ve watched enough Next-Gen to know how to wield a Bat’leth, fucker.