An Open Letter to Everytown Authors Council

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As a novelist, I believe freedom of speech is one of the most important human freedoms that American citizens have ordered our government to never interfere with.

Our next most vital right, second to our freedom, is our right to defend that freedom from all who would seek to take it away.

Any threat against our Second Amendment is a veiled threat against the First.

A few days ago, I found out about an initiative, funded by Michael Bloomberg, called the Everytown Authors Council, seeking to recruit fellow writers to encourage more gun laws.

As an NRA member, I hereby offer a challenge to all of those writers.

Come visit me in California.

Shoot some guns with me.

Educate yourself about firearms before you pass judgement on owning one.

I will shoot video of our meeting. I encourage you to do the same.

I will post our discussion and experiences online, so everyone can fairly see both of our viewpoints.

There are currently 130 writers who have volunteered to take part in the Everytown Authors Council. Part of their vow states, “we pledge to use our voices wherever and whenever we can, doing our part to help mobilize more
Americans to help save lives.”

Okay. Here is a chance to honor your pledge. Use your voice to debate a fellow writer and let us discuss our views.

I look forward to seeing how many of you will accept my invitation.

Oh! Incidentally, I fully expect all 130 writers to ignore me and none of them will accept this invitation.

But if they do, can I please get an ammunition sponsor? Federal? Hornady? Winchester? Remington? Somebody? If I end up getting 10 people who agree, this is going to get expensive!

Dear Hillary Clinton Supporters, This is Why You Lost…

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Dear Hillary Clinton Supporters,

Why did she lose?

How did this happen?

We can tell you. But you won’t like the answer.

You lost because “liberals” and “progressives” are only a small minority of the population and the media had you convinced you were an unstoppable majority.

In reality, you are nothing more than a tiny group of self-righteous and egocentric hypocrites, arrogantly belittling everyone who disagrees with you. You claim to support your buzzwords of “diversity” and “tolerance” and “acceptance” but the moment anyone questions your viewpoint, you disparage dissenters with vulgar labels. Racist! Bigot! Sexist! Homophobic! Islamophobic! Hateful! Nazi!

Those are the only words you know. You can’t use your big words. Colleges are passing out coloring books and having “cry-ins” for you! You are children. Toddlers. When you don’t get your way, you attack fellow citizens in the streets like animals. Throwing tantrums like infants.

And you wonder why the majority of the nation doesn’t respect you? Your juvenile reactions reinforce our justification to ignore everything you represent.

You keep screaming things like, “WE WON’T BE SILENCED!” We don’t need to silence you. You’re just starting to learn that we don’t need to listen.

Let’s do the math. 318 million people live in the United States. Only 60 million voted for Hillary Clinton. 60 million. That is a mere 18% of the country.

82% of your fellow Americans did not vote for Hillary Clinton. Think about that.

82% of the United States of America did not want Hillary Clinton to be president.

Only 18% of the country agrees with you. You are outnumbered more than 5 to 1. Despite what the media brainwashed you into believing, you aren’t even close to being a majority.

And you have no idea why.

Because the moment any mature adult tries to explain it to you, in a civilized manner, you cry, you weep, you “mourn”, you need healing, you need a “safe space”, you cover your ears and regurgitate your preprogrammed insults. Racist! Bigot! Sexist! Homophobic! Islamophobic! Hateful! Cisgendered White Power BASTARDS!

Why do you do that? You are still doing it now. You get on social media and tell everyone who didn’t vote for Hillary Clinton that we “Voted for hate” and “Support bigotry”. No. We don’t. That is why she lost. We are sick and tired of seeing celebrities and journalists trying to bully us into compliance. You honestly think that insulting us will compel us to obey you? When has that ever worked? When has mocking a group of people ever made them respect your opinion? Are you honestly that full of yourselves? You honestly think you are some kind of “holy warriors” and the other 82% of the country is filled with evil and xenophobic monsters? Really? You are that delusional? You know us. We are your friends and neighbors. We are your children and parents and coworkers. This is reality. This isn’t a dystopian fantasy novel. You are not “the chosen ones” battling the forces of darkness.

Why can’t you see the simple truth that being relentlessly condescending to 4/5ths of the country is the reason you lost? When will liberals learn that shaming people into conformity does not work? Crying that you are “offended” is not an adequate retort to vindicate your stance.

You have no idea how to engage in a genteel debate. You are incapable of participating in articulate discourse.

82% of your fellow Americans disagreed with you. 82% could see that Hillary was a deceptive nightmare.

The reason liberals find that so shocking is because you only listen to the media. They assured you that the coronation of Queen Hillary was inevitable. You never paid attention to reality. You believe blathering talkshow hosts. You trust celebrities on Twitter. You have faith in CNN polls. You get your news from Facebook feeds of people who agree with you. You remain sequestered on college campuses where you refuse to let anyone speak if they question your agenda. You think Saturday Night Live skits reflect the pulse of the nation.

Mainstream media is betraying you. Social media is feeding you what they want you to read. You never stop to consider, “Maybe if we mercilessly oppress and denigrate people with opposing views… they will never listen to us.”

Look at your beloved newscasters. Look at your braindead Hollywood actors. They are still pushing the same divisive rhetoric. They are still condescending to everyone that didn’t vote for their Queen. They learned nothing.

On 8 November 2016, you lost far more than an election. You lost the most powerful weapon you possessed – your veil of deception. We have to give you credit. Your dominance of the media worked. You had us convinced. We thought you were powerful. We thought Hillary was going to win. We thought traditional values were withering away and we believed you were changing the world. Changing it for the worse, but you were changing it. You tricked us. You succeeded. You hammered us and belittled us and silenced us at every turn and we truly thought you were winning. We thought you were taking over the nation. This election taught us, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that we were mistaken. In reality, there are very few of you. You represent a minuscule fraction of our society. The media gave you a loud mouthpiece to drown out all other voices, but there are far more of us than there are of you. We know that now. This election confirmed it. And we won’t forget it.

When you are done crying like babies, and finishing your coloring books, maybe you should wake up. Maybe you should try to make the world a better place by volunteering at a homeless shelter, instead of posting memes on Facebook. Maybe if you support women so much, you could assist at a rape crisis hotline, instead of retweeting Miley Cyrus. Maybe you should attempt to talk with people who disagree with you, instead of scorning them. Maybe you should try to find out why only 18% of the country thinks like you and your friends. Maybe you should accept the possibility that the other 82% of the nation knows something you don’t and we are nowhere near being as stupid as you presume us to be. Maybe those who have different opinions aren’t hateful, racist, sexist, xenophobic, redneck, bigots. Maybe you’re in the vast minority because you were wrong. And maybe the other 82% of your fellow Americans are not so deplorable after all.

Did it ever occur to you that maybe our true enemies are not one another, but rather, those who are constantly trying to divide us?

With Utmost Respect, Love & Unity,
The Flyover States

Why are novelists terrible boyfriends?

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When having conversations about their lovelife, most people talk about what they want to gain from a relationship.
“I want someone who treats me like this…”
“I want someone with these interests…”
“I want someone who does this…”
“I want someone who does that…”
“I want…”
“I want…”
“I want…”
“Me. Me. Me. Me. Me.”

I would never dare to be so conceited. Why would I presume I had a right to give orders to a girl I never met? Instead of reciting a litany of qualifications I demand others to possess, I’d rather tell you what I have to offer. Besides, you already know what I want in a girl. I don’t need to tell you, because all human beings want the same thing. Loyalty. Decorum. Fidelity. Passion. Devotion. Integrity. Dignity. Virtue. Chivalry matters. Always has. Always will. Rather than insisting others embody those values, I prefer to improve those traits in myself.

One trait I can’t improve are my looks. I own a mirror. I know what I look like. Scale of 1 to 10, I’m like a 2. Sure, I was about a 7 or an 8 back in Ohio, but I live in California now. Let’s be honest. 2. Maybe a 3 under good lighting. These big ol’ teeth of mine, I look like a cross between Jon Cryer and a rabbit. Plus, I’m about 5’7″ and 45 years old. That renders me additionally gross and creepy. Too short and too old. We all know only Tom Cruise gets a pass on those two faults.

Face it, once you pass 40, it’s over. You’ll be single forever. If I were a woman, I’d be two steps away from being Mrs. Deagle. I would just get started buying the cats.

Believe me, in my heart, I know full well that 40 is not old at all. One day, when I have reached 97 years upon this glorious earth, I shall look back on these good old days as a golden time of youth and vitality. Those of you who are fresh out of your precious teens have not yet gained the perspective to see that reaching your elder years is a blessing. For it is only those of us with weary souls and buoyant hearts who have always embraced the fleeting beauty which is life! To dance upon the world for as many days as we can hold. To remain humbled by childlike love and gratitude for our every breath – this is the measure of ones agelessness! This is… sorry. I uh, got a little carried away.

Where was I?

Ah, yes, uh, but my unattractive physical traits are minor compared to my veritable bevy of faults and countless reasons you should never go out with anyone like me. You should be forewarned, I’m an extraordinarily dull and boring guy. I never drink alcohol and have never been drunk in my entire life. Never done drugs. Never smoked a single joint. Never took one drag off a cigarette. Heck, I don’t even drink coffee. In our culture, my prudish purity is not admirable, it just make me an arrogant prick. Never fall in love with a guy who could potentially be a good influence on you. Last thing you need is to date Little Lord Fauntleroy incarnate.

I was never abused, or molested. I’ve never been incarcerated and I’m not some damaged “badboy” compelling you to help turn my life around. I can sincerely say I had a joyous childhood full of enchantment and wonder with beloved gradeschool friends whom I still talk with to this very day. I have never had a venereal disease. Never fathered children. Never had any emotional or behavioral disorders. Never required psychotropic drugs or support groups. I’ve never even cheated on a single girlfriend… Okay. Okay. There was that one time. But she was naked. And she was throwing herself at me. This petite little 18 year old blond who sang like Tori Amos and I just… That might be too much information. Let’s move on. I’ve never been overweight. I exercise regularly and eat healthy – My doctor calls me “the poster child” because I do everything right. Which probably means I’m going to keel over dead when I’m 48. Just long enough to disappoint you.

My passions are things you won’t enjoy at all. I’m an avid skateboarder and love riding pools in skateparks. Millions of kids watch my skate videos on YouTube, illustrating how juvenile I am. I spent my teens as an equestrian and my twenties as a hang glider pilot and a club kid in underground industrial nightclubs. You obviously aren’t the kind of girl who wants to skateboard, fly 6000′ above the earth in a kite, saddle horses, or go dancing to Nitzer Ebb and Front 242. You’ve never even heard of those bands. I have done geeky things like program websites at Walt Disney Studios for over 6 years. I grew up playing Dungeons & Dragons, collecting Star Wars toys, and swordfighting in the Society for Creative Anachronism. I love to write and have published 5 novels. Since you never heard of me, that proves these aren’t very good books. Since I’ve penned so many tales, that proves I’m a terribly selfish hermit. Sitting at home and writing a book no one will read is the most uninteresting way any grown man can spend a Saturday night. You’ll never find me watching football or playing videogames, because I’d rather be longboarding or bicycling. Speaking of riding, I didn’t own a car for over a decade and only rode my motorcycle everywhere. I’m Peter Pan. Never grew up. Very immature. Clearly not your type.

I am not aware of possessing any body piercings or tattoos. I don’t even like to rock a sexy shadow of Aragorn facial hair. Didn’t serve in the military. Didn’t graduate college. Never earned a six-figure salary. There is no reason for you to waste your time with someone like me when there are plenty of 6’2″ bearded, tattooed, alpha-males begging to father your children. You owe it to yourself to let them. Life is short. Don’t get involved with a boring nerd like me. Southern California is filled with dashing and successful men. I’m neither.

By the way, with the exception of office jobs and parochial school, I’ve dressed like this my whole life. Jeans and a tshirt. That will never change. I’ll never call myself a “goof” or claim to be “random” – genuinely goofy and random people never feel compelled to warn anyone about it. Luna Lovegood never did. Why should I? I’ve never used the word “party” as a verb and I’ve never used the phrase “at the end of the day” in any conversation of my life. I’m definitely not going to call myself “fun-loving” because – DUH! – who isn’t? Everyone is fun-loving. Stalin would have labeled himself “fun-loving”, but would you want to date him?

Going back to those office jobs, I can never hold one down. I’ve been laid off 6 times in my life. What kind of loser gets laid off 6 times? I get kicked to the curb so often, I just expect it at this point. Sooner or later, I’ll be out of a job and struggling to find work again. That the kind of guy you want? Being with the unemployed aspiring novelist when he is 20 years old is romantic. When he’s 50 years old, it’s pathetic. Don’t lower your standards down to the likes of me. You deserve better. Don’t you?

Speaking of lack of work, now that I’m reaching a time in my life when age discrimination begins to play a part in vastly reducing my employment options, I’m building a humble tiny house out in the desert, to save some money. In a few short years, I will basically be Obi Wan Kenobi. Not exactly your Mr. Right.

Sociologically, my views are very old-fashioned. I’m intelligent enough to recognize “political correctness” as nothing more than fascism parading as manners. I cherish obsolete values like God, family, patriotism, the Bill of Rights, free-market American capitalism, and keeping my word. Heck, I’m so traditional, if I were going to marry a girl, I would be morally obligated to ask her father for permission. Any man who fails to do that isn’t worthy of his betrothed. But women don’t concur with my antiquated virtues anymore nor would any respect me after exhibiting such obsolete ethics. I grew up in Ohio, where I was raised by a family of police officers and military personnel who would hunt with rifles. During 13 years of living in Hollywood, I learned West Coast girls passionately detest all those things! Cops? Military? Firearms? My very bloodline is abhorrent to the chicks of Los Angeles.

I do not fit in with the world. And on those rare occasions when a lady has caught my eye, I tend to get far too serious, far too quickly.