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"You own a gun!?" she said in complete surprise. I knew I had gone too far. She is new to the group, dating a friend.
She is really darling. A beautiful, younger woman. She misses living in New York. I wish she had more girlfriends.
I don't recall exactly what I was talking about, when she interjected, but I can tell you I was probably more concerned with my next drink and where I can get some good, safe drugs now that Silk Road had been shut down.
"Yes, I do," I answered. Most everyone's eyes glossed over at the table. Close friends, but they have an aura of palpable American indifference. I've learned to love it. I just keep my opinions to myself, unless it has to do with which new music albums are good and which are bad.
She stared at me, mouth agape. "But…why?"
"Well, for protection."
"I cannot believe you have a gun…that's scary!" she replied.
"What is scary is that there are like 350 million guns in the country, and so when that is the case, and like 99% of Americans are lunatics, of course I am going to have a gun. It is dumb not to. Yes, I know what you're thinking – 'wouldn't it be nice if, in the 14th century, the Chinese hadn't invented gunpowder,' but that's not the case, is it?"
She paused a moment. "But what if you go crazy and shoot someone?"
"Well, I appreciate your vote of confidence in me, but I am currently not on any prescribed medications and the medications I am on really just make me feel lovey-dovey and relaxed. The gun is simply for self-defense in a totally insane world. It just sits in my drawer at home, unchambered."
"Well, isn't protection what the police are for?"
I spat my drink out and apologized profusely. I was choking on some of the drink at this point as the whisky bourbon had gone down the wrong pipe. My eyes were watering over and probably had become red like a blood-soaked American sidewalk after justice had been meted out by the men in blue. Some of it came out of my nose, and it burned.
"Excuse me?" I said.
"The police, they're for protection."
"So, you're implying the only people who should have weapons are those in uniforms."
"Well, yeah, I like guys in uniforms," she replied.
"You do see the problem when only police and military have guns, don't you? Anyone?"
They just looked at me. One friend knows what's up. He is much more interested, though, in how the low-end sounds through an analog recording setup, God bless his soul. That is truly something I can get behind.
"Well, they're supposed to protect us, that's why they have guns," she said.
"Sure, in a mark-to-model reality…"
"A what-to-what reality?"
"In reality that isn't the case. There are lots of things that prevent police officers from getting to your home to protect you. For one, distance from where they are to where you are. It might take awhile for them to get there. Second, too many are fat f*cks. Third, with an IQ of sub-70, who is to guarantee they find your place at all, even with Google Maps? And fourth, if they DO find your place, within a reasonable amount of time, you probably already live in the ghetto. And then, what's to stop them from shooting you? Plus, I have a very cute rabbit from a past relationship. The last thing I would want is for anything to happen to this innocent creature at the hands of the cops."
"Well, if you're so worried, why don't you just go to the gym, then?" She laughed. I wondered If she had ever been to a gym herself.
"You know what, you're right – why don't I?"
I got up for another drink, and then walk out for an organic cigarette. The doorman stops me.
"Hey you! You can't bring that drink out here," he says.
"Oh yes, I forgot, I am sorry." He checks my ID, for the second time tonight, as I walk back into the club.
I set the drink down inside, and walk outside. I begin rolling a cigarettte.
"You aren't rolling a joint are you, buddy?" The doorman asks.
"Nope, just a cigarette."
"Better be."
I light it.
"Hey buddy, read the sign! Twenty feet away from the building.
So, I walk out into the middle of the street and light my cigarette. I don't even like cigarettes but what other excuse am I going to use to be left alone when I am out on a Saturday night? If I could, I would smoke a joint instead.
I look to the south and I can see the Mexican hillside. 'Only about a 20 minute drive from here,' I think to myself. All of the possibilities just over the border. I look at my watch, it is 12:45am. The night is winding down, north of the border at least. I could probably make it to Tijuana in time for a donkey show. I hear Berwick in my head: "Justin – it's only 12:45am, you slave, OF COURSE you can make it down to TJ in time for a donkey show."
I decide to go home instead. The drive south towards the border is too dangerous at this point. I was planning on going to the gym early, anyway.
Scene.
A great week of provocative articles from the TDV crew this week, let's get to it. But first…
Also, a quick reminder that if you’re interested in receiving articles beyond what you read here everyday, consider our weekly subscriber-only publications, like our Issue, Dispatches, and Homegrown. You may subscribe here.
On to the review…
Monday March 31
CAPITAL CONTROLS AND 200% PRICE RISES IN UKRAINE – AND UKRAINE IS IN BETTER SHAPE THAN THE US!
Jeff Berwick on the USSA vs. the Ukraine.
“In a TV address to a torn nation, Ukraine's PM Yatsenyuk first implied heating prices would rise incrementally, and then later confirmed a plan to increase prices 100% in the next two years (and nearly 200% by 2017) as the cost of imported Russian gas is expected to rise to $500 from the current $84.”
Tuesday April 1
JANET YELLEN IS DESTINED TO BE THE BEST FED CHAIRMAN OF ALL TIME
Berwick on the new Bernanke.
“Janet Yellen has only been Chairman of the Federal Reserve for less than two months and I am already convinced that she is the best thing to happen since Barack O'Bomber was first elected and awarded the Nobel Peace Prize.
There are a number of reasons for that.
First, as we can see by her speech yesterday she is going to be a laugh riot. And, secondly, all of her actions will undoubtedly, indisuptably destroy the dollar… And, of course, we dollar vigilantes have prime seats and are positioned to profit from that inevitability. We thought Helicopter Ben was a literal gold mine but Janet Yellen will easily surpass him as a great source of mockery and profitability.”
Wednesday April 2
AN OPEN LETTER TO CANADIANS FROM JIM KARGER
The irascible Jim Karger being Jim Karger.
“Dear Canadians,
Let me get to the bottom line before you get to the bottom of the bottle.
That evil bastard, Berwick, just wrote me and asked me to write on "the downsides of being an 'accidental American.'" Hell, I can write for hours on the downsides of being any kind of American – intentional, negligent, reckless, syphilitic, and brain-dead.
But, no, he wants a screed limited to 'accidental Americans,' which is whiskey-prism talk for Canadians. You know, people like you and Berwick, who suffer from having been flash-frozen out of the womb and then making the rest of us suffer with your hideous disabilities and whining ever since."
Thursday April 3
TERRY GILLIAM: THE PYTHON WHO RENOUNCED HIS CITIZENSHIP
More from Jeff Berwick on a Python’s renouncing his slave card.
“This is an issue we write about and discuss regularly here at The Dollar Vigilante. It seems Terry saw the writing on the wall. So-much-so, in fact, he made a movie about what I surmise is basically modern America. (read: Amerika)
Terry's 1984 film Brazil portrays a bizarre 1984-esque world which meshes the dark reality of a society mired in totalitarianism, slowed to a near hault by bureaucracy, with what's basically slapstick. One of the main events of the film is when the wrong person is killed. "Tuttle" is who the state wants to murder for being a terrorist, but a fly lands on on the oversized behemoth of a state printer and smudges the T to look like a B. And so the wrong person, Buttle, an old man who leaves behind a family, is executed by ‘shock troops.’”
Friday April 4
WHO KILLED KURT COBAIN? TWENTY YEARS LATER, THE FREE MARKET LOOKS FOR ANSWERS
“Saturday April 5th, 2014, will mark the twentieth anniversary of the death of Kurt Cobain, perhaps the last true rock star. By the time Kurt had become an American icon in 1991, he was thinking of leaving the limelight and expatriating. He liked how other cultures didn't ask him for autographs like Americans did. The tabloid nature of media in the US, also, was too much for him.”
Saturday April 5
STATISM IS DYING – FREEDOM IS RISING: THE WEEKEND VIGILANTE APRIL 5, 2014
Jeff Berwick checks in with his weekly address to TDVers from Anarchapulco.
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