The NRA's in town and Sarah barbie and the Beckhole will be speaking to the assembled thousands of cheering NRA'ers.
And in the halls devoted to the art of gunnery, the fans will experience the touch of the smooth, black steel, the solid feel of the instrument, the smell of the oil, sighting down the barrel, the sound of the controlled explosion, imagining the effect—the bullet tearing through flesh, ripping away at internal organs, blood rushing out of the wound. The animal stumbling, then falling. Power, it conjures up power over the other.
Similar perhaps . . . the sound of engines grumbling, roaring, some shrieking, the acrid smell of oil and exhaust smoke, the burning smell of tires screaming into turns, and imagining, yes imagining the machine roaring at full speed into a side barrier and exploding in a fireball.
Ahhh, heady stuff, very manly for the testosterone set.