Comedian, musician, host of The Chris Crofton Show and former Nashvillian Chris Crofton asked the Scene for an advice column, so we gave him one. Crowning himself the “Advice King,” Crofton will share his hard-won wisdom with whosoever seeks it. Follow Crofton on Facebook and Twitter, and to submit a question for the Advice King, email bestofbread[at]gmail[dot]com or editor[at]nashvillescene[dot]com.
Dear Advice King,
What kind of guns should I get, and how many?
-Pete in Nashville
Hi Pete! Great question! It depends on what kind of damage you want to do to your brother-in-law. If you really want him dead, get an AR-15. If you just want to maim him, get a .22-caliber pistol. I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, “I’m not going to use my guns to shoot my brother-in-law! I like Gary! I’m going to use my guns to shoot home invaders and terrorists!” That’s what everybody thinks when they buy a gun, Pete. They all imagine they’re going to be stopping crimes and foiling plots 24/7. They’re totally pumped for their whole new life of hiding in the shadows, checking perimeters, screwing on silencers, doing somersaults and throwing really nice lighters into gasoline trails. Maybe they’ll stop so many crimes that the president of the United States will call them and see if they want to be on SEAL Team Six! And they’ll say, “Thank you, Mr. President, but I’m just going to stay here in Sheboygan and run this puppy mill. I’ll just continue to shoot criminals locally. Yes, I’d be happy to be your secret crime consultant. Anything for my country. OK, bye!”
Here’s the bad news, Pete. People who buy guns don’t end up as heroes. They end up shooting their brother-in-law. In this scenario, you are the shooter. You shoot your brother-in-law, Gary.
Gary is married to your sister Nancy. Gary and Nancy’s basement has flooded on a Tuesday at 11:30 p.m. in September. You have a pump in your garage, Pete. Gary knows about the pump because he gave it to you for your 50th birthday. It’s a beaut. Gary has a key to your garage because he feeds your parrot when you go on vacation. It’s a school night, so you and your wife Blanche and your two kids Spike and Raylene and the parrot are all asleep. Gary doesn’t call ahead because he doesn’t want to wake you all up. Gary comes over, opens the side door to your garage with his key, and tries to find the light switch. You wake up. It sounds like someone is IN THE GARAGE. “ISIS HAS ARRIVED IN SHEBOYGAN,” you think. You also think, “THIS IS MY TIME TO SHINE.” You grab your gun from underneath the nightstand, put on your night vision goggles and head downstairs for your date with destiny. “Will I get a ticker-tape parade?” you wonder.
This is the part where your choice of weapon matters.
If you bought the AR-15, Gary is totally fucking dead. And one of your neighbors is dead, too, because nine of the 20 bullets you shot went through the wall of your garage. Two of those went through your neighbors’ bedroom window. If you bought the .22, Gary is merely paralyzed.
Feels good, right? Just like you pictured it. The president should be calling any minute.
OK, so maybe it doesn’t go down quite like that. Maybe you don’t kill your brother-in-law. Maybe your 8-year-old daughter accidentally shoots herself. Maybe you accidentally shoot yourself. Maybe your wife reaches under the nightstand to answer the phone and ... same goddamn difference. Fantasy turned tragedy.
So you say, “I keep it locked up. I’m not stupid.” Now you hear a noise and you’re fumbling with a LOCK AND A GUN in a panic and this time you shoot your son. The noise was a squirrel on the roof. If you have guns around, somebody is going to get shot, Pete. If there are no guns around, no one is going to get shot. Why is that so fucking hard to understand, Wayne LaPierre?*
Fun Fact I: The NRA is a death cult.
Fun Fact II: No one I know has any guns.
Fun Fact III: No one I know ever gets shot.
I used to have neighbors in Nashville who had two sons and lots of guns. No home invaders ever came for them, and no ISIS fighters. One brother accidentally shot and killed the other brother when they were both drunk. The boy who was killed was 18. The family moved away after that, heartbroken, utterly destroyed.
Have you ever considered that no one is coming for you, Pete? Would that make you sad? Does the thought that no one is planning to attack you make you feel lonely? Do you imagine that you would feel better if you were able to shoot a robber and get your name in the paper? Are you sure that it would feel good to kill someone, even if that person was a “robber”? Have you ever read anything? Have you ever read anything about war? Did you know that killing people — even “bad” people — makes human beings feel HORRIBLE? Who tells you who is “bad" and who is "good”? God? Henry Kissinger?
Perhaps you get your ideas about killing and guns and terrorism and heroism from Hollywood movies. If you are getting your information about killing from Hollywood movies then I can understand why you might think that killing a “bad guy” would make you feel complete, BUT YOU ARE A GROWN MAN CAPABLE OF COMPLEX THOUGHT, SO I EXPECT A LITTLE MORE FROM YOU PETE.
Hero/redemption fantasies are the engine that powers the gun industry. These fantasies have nothing to do with actual threats; they are born of an acute existential dread — existential dread that comes from the spiritual and physical isolation inherent to modern society. The irony is that the “terrorists” are dealing with the same dread by the same means. Gun violence is a side effect of a worldwide anxiety disorder. The violence is escalating because people feel impotent in the face of a global corporate hegemony and the money-hoarding of the executive class, and alienated by increased interaction with digital devices and the accompanying decrease in interaction with their fellow man. I feel anxious, Pete, but I do not label my anxiety “terrorism” or “immigrants” or “robbers” and attempt to medicate it by buying guns. I exercise regularly, see a therapist, and do my best to challenge corporate power. I haven’t shot a brother-in-law yet.
*Wayne LaPierre is the paranoid, death-obsessed National Rifle Association spokesman.
