Nine Signs You’re at a Paul Ryan Rally

Nine Signs You’re at a Paul Ryan Rally:

9)  All the babies are in cammo diapers

8)  Senior citizens seen fleeing in mortal fear

7)  Secret service guys are the only ones carrying concealed weapons

6)  Has-beens, wanna-bes and never-weres (such as Ted Nugent and Kid Rock) are crowding the stage, hoping someone will recognize them

5)  Rapists are handing out cigars, in the tradition of proud fathers everywhere

4)  The candidate looks like a scary version of Eddie Munster

3)  Fang marks left on all the babies he’s kissed

2)  Instead of shaking hands with voters, Ryan is trading deer sausage recipes

1)  Some Bubba is going around bragging, “I bought my 10 year-old girl a rifle and I’m gonna teach her how to kill a deer this year!”—wait a minute, that’s the candidate!

Text and Wildlife Photography ©Jim Robertson

Paul Ryan Is Out to Corrupt His Little Girl

The hunting industry’s motto must be: “Get ‘em while they’re young.”

Being the diehard “sportsman” that he is, Republican vice presidential candidate Paul Ryan is taking that maxim to heart. Yesterday he told ABC News his daughter has watched him hunt for years, and he’d already bought her a Remington 700 .243 junior model rifle last Christmas.

“She’s going to get to go hunting this year for the first time,” Ryan said. “She’s 10 years old, so she can hunt starting at 10. I just need to get her some clothes.”

What kind of clothes? Why camo, of course. No doubt sensing a photo op, Ryan stopped at the Forest Park, Ohio, Outdoor World and paid $101.14 in cash for camouflage gloves and a jacket.

Females are supposed to be the more caring and nurturing of our species. How is teaching them to murder animals at an early age a good thing? Unless we want a world full of conscienceless, compassionless killers, it isn’t.

A normal young girl’s natural reaction to seeing a beautiful creature killed is shock, sadness, revulsion or repugnance. But if her father praises her enough when she brings down her first victim, there’s a chance she’ll end up thinking that she somehow enjoys it. From then on, when she sees a deer or rabbit, she will think of the praise she received; she’ll see them simply as trophies to mount on the wall; or she’ll envision them butchered and reduced to bloody lumps of meat. She’ll always be a little twisted in her perception of our fellow beings.

Years later, after a string of failed marriages, alcoholism, suicide attempts or a criminal record for child abuse or other violent crimes, in addition to a lifetime of inner turmoil, she might eventually seek psychiatric counseling. Only then will she realize that her problems began on the day her father first praised her for killing an innocent, sentient animal—the kind that she used to think of as beautiful.

And this Ryan guy wants to be our vice president? Considering the way he plans to corrupt his little girl, I’d want him to stay the hell away from my daughter.

Text and Wildlife Photography ©Jim Robertson

Celebrate National Anti-Hunting Day

Forget Watergate, the worst crime committed by President Nixon was his proclamation commemorating the first annual National Hunting and Fishing Day in 1972. Since then all the successive presidents have dutifully followed suit, including Barack Obama, who has declared September 22, 2012, yet another National Hunting and Fishing Day (despite a steady slide in hunter participation since the ‘70s and a Change.org petition urging the President to end the misguided tradition).

In the spirit of fairness and equality, I, as the self-appointed dis-honorary president of the Cleveland Amory Memorial Hunt the Hunters Hunt Club, by virtue of the authority vested in me (by myself and I), hereby declare September 23rd, 2012, to be the first annual National Anti-Hunting and Fishing Day.

To commemorate this sacred occasion, a family-oriented affair will offer fun and educational hands-on activities that every non-hunter can enjoy. It will be a great way to introduce young people and newcomers to the pursuit of anti-hunting, while teaching them about the important role that anti-hunting plays in true wildlife protection.

A lively outdoor festival (held on an anti-hunting compound at an undisclosed location) will feature such activities as a “trap-shoot” (or, if you don’t have a gun, a trap-smash-with-a-heavy-object) event, and time trials to see who can dismantle duck blinds, tree stands and bait stations the fastest.

If you happen to have any old Ted Nugent albums or CDs that you bought before knowing what a rabid, frothing bowhunter he would turn out to be, bring them, along with a shotgun and we’ll use them in lieu of clay pigeons for a traditional skeet shoot.

Sign up for workshops on how to identify plain-clothed hunters during the off-season, and how to avoid them. You can also learn the best method to secure a freshly harvested trophy hunter to the hood or roof of your car, along with the fine art of flagrantly flaunting your hunter harvest for the benefit of your favorably-impressed fellow anti-sportsman or anti-sportswoman.

There will be fishing pole and arrow-breaking contests and a Tarzan movie marathon (sponsored by the NBRA*) where you’ll witness Tarzan-tested techniques for bending poachers’ and trophy hunters’ rifles around trees (*naturally, NBRA stands for the National Bent Rifle Association). And vegan body-builders will be on hand throughout the day to demonstrate their prowess at tearing Cabela’s catalogs in half.

Kids, be sure to bring your pink and purple paints for the color-over-the-camouflage-clothing contest. Other festivities for the young and young at heart include: pin the arrow on the bowhunter, throwing pies at the cammo-clad clown and the ever-popular bashing the life-sized, orange-vested nimrod piñata.

August Not all Fun in the Sun for Everyone

Natalie Babbitt, author of Tuck Everlasting,wrote: “The first week of August hangs at the very top of summer, the top of the live-long year, like the highest seat of a Ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning. The weeks that come before are only a climb from balmy spring, and those that follow a drop to the chill of autumn, but the first week of August is motionless and hot.”

Well, motionless perhaps, unless you’re a Washington State black bear trying to find food for the coming winter, while at the same time keeping your eyes peeled for bloodthirsty hunters.

That’s right, although it’s berry season for the bears, it’s “bear season” for hunters—as of August 1st—here in the Evergreen State. Now any Elmer who wants to can kill not one, but two bears each through November 15th! Any bear who values his or her hide will have no real peace until the snow flies and they’re safely tucked away in their hibernation den. Until then, they must assume there could be a camouflage-clad coward, with a high powered rifle or compound bow aimed at them, perched in every tree they pass under.

Each year 30,000 black bears are killed by hunters in the U.S. alone. Each one of them was a more remarkable, more worthy being than the cretins who would kill them for sport. If bears had Facebook pages, I’d add them all to my “Friends” list. To those who hunt bears: The enemies of my friends are my enemies. Since Facebook doesn’t have an “Enemies” list, the least I can do is unfriend you whenever you expose yourself as a hunter.

Wildlife Photography Copyright Jim Robertson