Stupid human tricks

 (In which the Blob takes another brief detour from Sportsball World. Standard procedures apply.)

America the Calibrated scored another big "W" last night, except this time there was no body count. Thank God for small favors, and all that.

This time the usual knuckleheads skinned their smokewagons (obligatory "Tombstone" reference) during a party at a lakeside campground in Oklahoma. At least a dozen people wound up going to the hospital with gunshot wounds, and the beat goes on, the beat goes on. The Blob long ago shed its naivete over such incidents, having accepted the sad fact that the knuckleheads far outnumber the sane folk today in these United States.

So hooray for the nation of the Second Amendment ... and all that. Where Lee Greenwood is proud to be an American, where at least he knows he's free to, I don't know, pull out a Sig Sauer and start shooting because someone looked at him cross-eyed. Where every freedom-loving 'Merican thinks it's perfectly normal to pack heat wherever he or she goes, because The Right To Keep And Bear Arms Shall Not Be Infringed.

Also because you never know when a trip to the Piggly Wiggly is going to require some sort of Wyatt Earp cosplay.

"Gee, Mr. Blob," you're saying now. "You sound bitter."

Do I? More like resigned. Not to say weary to death of the knuckleheads and law-makin' lint-brains who enable them.

So, I hereby surrender.

Sure, by all means, let's keep pulling guns out and opening fire at -- in this case -- a first-weekend-in-May celebration called (un-ironically, apparently) Sunday Funday. Let's break up another soiree in Bloomington just a week earlier, when post-Little 500 partiers on Kirkwood were sent fleeing because more knuckleheads decided to pull out their guns and start shooting, winging five of the revelers.

Let the congress critters with their AR-15 lapel pins offer up the usual thought-and-prayers, for all the good it ever does. Let stupid humans performing stupid human tricks become the new normal here in this insane asylum that used to be the greatest country on earth. 

That business on Sunday Funday in Oklahoma, for instance? 

It took place outside of Edmond, a city of 95,000 or so just north of Oklahoma City, where Timothy McVeigh did his deal 31 years ago. Nine years before that, in Edmond itself, a postal worker named Pat Sherrill walked into the post office and shot 20 people before turning the gun on himself. Fourteen of them died.

So Sunday Funday was a legacy calibration event, in a sense. God bless America.

He may be the only one.