Source:
http://tinyurl.com/BMKent001
COEUR D'ALENE, Idaho--Repression was the order of the day as the
National Rifle Association's North Idaho Chapter held its annual
convention this weekend.
More than 25,000 dedicated gun lovers from across Northern Idaho
flocked to the Coeur d'Alene Convention Center for the two-day event,
happily sublimating homosexual impulses amid a carefully maintained
facade of platonic camaraderie.
Moscow, ID, resident Richard Hoflinger, 47, a longtime gun-rights
activist, exhibited the collection of antique rifles through which he
has channeled his culturally unacceptable impulses. "Guns should be
part of any upstanding Christian family," Hoflinger said, sticking a
long, thick, oily pipe-cleaner 14 inches up an 1886 Remington.
In the next booth, another latent gay man, Duane Erlich, moved his hand
slowly up and down a well-polished 1948 Winchester. "Ain't she a
beautiful baby?" he said, displaying the kind of
feminization/infantilization of firearms for which NRA members are
renowned.
Erlich then demonstrated the proper loading procedure for his "baby,"
lovingly inserting a pair of bullets into the dark, snug-fitting
tunnels before thrusting the gun's bolt smoothly into the action,
cocking it firmly. "This'll blow a man straight to heaven," he said.
The tone of the event was set by chapter president John Henry Unger,
whose opening remarks cited the "wonderful variety of weaponry on
display, from little snub-nosed pieces that fit snugly in your pocket
to big, meaty shooters with barrels as thick as your arm."
Unger then fired his father's prize Colt Peacemaker revolver into the
air, drawing raucous applause from the crowd, many of whose own fathers
had suppressed latent physical attraction for their adolescent sons by
channeling forbidden feelings into totemistic firearms.
All over the convention floor, gun manufacturers proudly unveiled new
technologies which will allow simmering homoerotic tensions to be
expressed with greater nuance than ever before. At the Smith & Wesson
booth, company spokesman Darrell Trace displayed a handgun made from a
newly developed metal alloy whose "incredibly hard" nature, he
explained, gives it no recoil after use, providing its user with "a far
greater sense of control over his piece."
"It's a very comfortable gun, very soft in the hands," Trace added,
noting that Smith & Wesson had designed the gun to appeal to "shooters
tired of coming home from the firing range with sore, worn-out wrists."
But even as conventioneers reveled in a two-day orgy of
firearm-to-phallus transference, a dark cloud hung over the event. The
NRA has declined in power over the last decade, and its once-potent
lobbyists have come out on the small end of key legislative battles
like the Brady Bill, causing many members to bring their lifelong
subconscious fears of castration to the fore.
"If the gun-control lobby wants my rod, they'll have to yank it from my
dead body," said Pocatello-area bar-owner Joseph Greer, holding a
tell-tale snub-nosed revolver.
"Those guys up there in Washington are tryin' to take our guns away,
but we ain't gonna let 'em," Greer continued, adding classic paternal
displacement to the already rich psychosexual tapestry. "No siree, Bob."