Florida has become a proving ground where law-abiding pistol-packers may “stand their ground” and smoke those who approach with malicious intent. As with any good law there will be abuse, of course, such as the Cape Coral case I reported on a few weeks back in which some patently paranoid screws-loose nut sack felt “threatened” by some poor sod selling steaks and lobsters door-to-door and shot him dead in the drive-way.
Gladiators in the News—Last winter, two denizens of rival homeless camps over Punta Gorda way got into a tiff over a missing cell phone. After being accused of the theft, one Zon McCoy—Zon? Yes, Zon!--grabbed his sturdy ax and gave chase to one Ernesto Castro. Several blocks away, when the puffing men finally reached Fidel’s homeless home in the jungle, the chasee grabbed a (what else?) machete that was laying around and turned on the chaser. Battling like bronzed gladiators of olde in the Roman Coliseum, the two vagabonds slashed the air, smote the trees and palmettos, hacked everything it seems but each other. McCoy did somehow manage to get a scratch on his hand, which he dutifully displayed to the blue lights when they arrived.
Cops came, cops saw, cops cuffed, cops arrested, cops filled out two hours of paper work. Since Senor Castro was holding the machete and McCoy was holding his injured hand, cops gave Fidel a home for the next several months courtesy of the county. Fidel claimed self-defense.
This week, the court-appointed suit representing Zon argued that his client merely followed Castro back to his camp to state his case in a clear, calm and concise manner; said pleader added that his client had no intention whatsoever of threatening Senor Castro or using the ax that he absent-mindedly lugged along.
“How does one pursue another with an ax and not make it threatening?” asked the sleepy judge during one of his few wakeful moments.
Whatever, the result demonstrates that Florida’s “Stand your ground” law applies just as easily to a homeless vagabond living like a wild animal in the woods and armed with a machete as it does to a pistol packin’ paranoid in the burbs gunning down a door-to-door salesman. Anywho, Fidel is now a free man with his usurped human dignity fully restored. And so, with that little affair patched up, Zon and Fidel can now get back to a life in the wild, begging for their daily bread and stealing for their daily crack and/or meth habit, back to swatting mosquitoes and mashing fire ants, back to fighting life and death battles with other murderous maniacs over cell phones.
Meanwhile, up at Bradenton, another form of “Stand Your Ground” was being tested. A mild-mannered gent was walking his proud little Jack Russell on a leash the other day, both just joyin’ the day. Pretty quick they came to a three foot high concrete “fence.” On the other side of said three foot high concrete “fence” was a pit bull. It seems redundant to once again report just how murderous these creatures are; how their entire existence seems devoted to mutilation and massacre, and so I will forgo the rant.
Thus, when the little dog and his human pal passed alongside the “fence,” the pitbull did what any self-respecting bully would do when it spots something small, stupid and slow—it lets the good times roll. After all, it had been almost a week now since last this pit jumped this towering three foot “fence” and killed everything he could clamp his jaws on, including a three-legged cat, a neighbor’s pet pot-bellied pig, and two squawking parrots. Oh yes, five or six cocker spaniel puppies fell victim to the rampage, as well.
Thus, rather than watch his little Jack Russell get gutted and killed in two seconds flat, the JR’s owner whipped out his Portable Permanent Pitbull Attitude Adjustment Apparatus (.38 pistol) and shot the charging beast in the neck and shoulder. No report yet if the lead was true and terminated this pest but even if they did not they at least removed from the pit’s one-track mind the thought of killing the little JR for the moment . . . or killing anything else, for that matter.
81-year-old kiddie fiddler, Murray Snider, was arrested this week over in Fort Lauderdale. Although hooked up to an oxygen tank and seemingly more dead than alive, this ancient pervert admitted to molesting little kids all of his despicable life. They finally caught him but “better late than never” seems pretty lame at this late stage of his “career.” How this Chester, this molester, managed to elude justice all these years, how many lives he ruined in the process, just sorta staggers the thought process. What should be done with this gentleman? Take away his oxygen and let him flop like a carp on a river bank? Drop him off in the middle of the Everglades? Hang him upside down from a palm tree and start a small fire under his head? Hand out needle-nose pliers and turn him over to his victims? Give him a clean room, with plenty of free food and 24/7 medical attention for the rest of his miserable life, as the State of Florida will do? Justice? Give me a break!