Wow. If you follow the links upstream, you find this video of Borat (a character played by British comedian Sacha Baron Cohen) visiting one of those canned hunt ranches.

Men who shoot fish in barrels, then beat their chests over it. They could save some trouble by just painting a picture of a he-man on a piece of plywood with a cutout for the head, and having their picture taken.

Oh, but I thought of something more pathetic. "Men" who get off on Internet sites where girls kill small animals. I don't have any links; I saw recently that they exist and pursued the matter no further. Perhaps it was on bOINGbOING.

Hey, your last paragraph is darn near a poem. Here's my WW2-poster-type tag line: "One shouldn't give kissies to chest-beating sissies."

Almost OT, but this video of pretend tough guy George Allen calling a 20-year-old Jim Webb staffer "macaca" in a crowd full of white Republicans has been making the rounds.

Kind of makes you wonder how the suspension of disbelief works so that someone could walk up to, say, a bear in a cage, shoot it, and feel like that somehow validated their toughness.

CSI already did the "canned hunt" episode. The bear was drugged so it was sluggish, the hunter shot it right in the forehead and the bullet glanced off, but stunned the bear. when the hunter was examing the bear, it woke up and killed him.

Then again, having an al queda suspect tied up, blindfolded, and waterboarded suddenly takes on new meaning. Cheney probably gets the same chest beating thrill from shooting a drugged and caged bear as he would authorizing the torture of some captured suspects.

I’m digging deep in my brain and trying to find an example of a more pathetic display of grabbing at masculinity than the canned hunt....

Torture. Think about it.

I have no desire to hunt even though I have a good deal of the skill sets, I wouldn't do it unless I absolutely HAD to hunt to feed myself and my family. I see trophy hunting as a fairl pathetic way to make ones ego feel bigger at some poor creature's cost, and canned hunting is beneath contempt. After finding that out about Mr. Cheney long ago, I'm not sure I could be polite if I ever met him in person (not that that is likely).

(thus spake the person who live-trapped the squirrely out of her attic and took it to a fairly distant public park, so far 3 squirrels - Mo Dept. of Natural Resources person said "if you kill it it's okay, it was damaging your property." and I said "Ma'am, I can't do that. I just need to know how far to take it so it won't come back." (10 miles, fyi, and the painter fixed the place they were getting in this summer. I took it out to Minor Park, which is about 15 miles.)

Is it possible Greg & Lizzy (above) are experiencing quantum entanglment?

Mez - I dunno, they both seem to have made it out of Schroedinger's little box alive.

It has a pretty long history, here and in England (bird particularly). Still, it bugs me similarly. Also "punt guns", and many of the extremes of buffalo hunting (including the native practice of driving a herd over a cliff).

Lots of streams and lakes are stocked with fish, too; but usually those are juvenile fish that have to grow up for a year or two before being caught, and that makes it somewhat less troubling. Either that or fish just aren't fuzzy.

If you leave the fish out long enough, it gets pretty fuzzy.

When I was a callow youth, even less polite and less in control of my tongue than I am now, a (non-blood) relative happened to be showing slides of his place in Alaska. He'd shot a bear that'd been hanging around his place-- and was posing beside the corpse. Small black bears are smaller than large humans.

"Cripes, _____, that bear is smaller than you are!" I said.

"Well, yeah-- but look at the claws on that thing!"

"Did he have a gun?"

(To his credit, they ate it.)

This goes back a ways, but there is a scene in Richard Lester's The Three Musketeers, where either the French king or the Duke of Buckingham (it's been too long) is at a hunt where there is a long corridor constructed out of fabric and beaters are driving all the animals in the forest towards the hunting party. It's all quite historically accurate. Doesn't justify it today, but yet again we can see that wealth and privilege don't buy class.

Kind of makes you wonder how the suspension of disbelief works so that someone could walk up to, say, a bear in a cage, shoot it, and feel like that somehow validated their toughness.

"You've just killed a small animal - it's time for a lite beer."

You're assuming way more capaqbility for rational thought than is strictly applicable here.

Besides, this might just be Man asserting his dominion over the Beasts of the Field, in the mind of a wierdass Religious Right Conservative ... um ... thinker. Them thar Beasts are bein' dominionated, with guns, fences, tranquillisers and any other tools the Compleat Hunter can muster.

Hey, I'm a guy who goes to strip clubs and who once got picked up at one by one of the dancers; we, like, totally got with each other for a few months or so. Does this make me a sadsack loser type guy like Cheney or something? Gee, I sure hope not....

Lizzy L: I thought about it. You're right.

DD-B: Yup. Fish are definitely not fuzzy. This explains much.

Just so the round of voices saying this is pathetic is complete, a Republican-sympathizer (I'm not registered to vote--no use when you plan on renouncing citizenship as soon as possible) has to step in. And thus I do.

Seriously, I'm rabidly pro-firearm, pro-hunting, but come on. If you're only capable of killing tame drugged animals--don't even bother. That's what agri-business is there for.

I don't object to the Swedish moose and roe deer hunts (they breed like vermin and have few natural enemies here), or the stocking of fish back into waters where they used to live. However, canned hunts? Come on, just pay some farmer to shoot his cow...

I have to object, here, to the denigration of the noble sissies of this world by your associating them with Cheney and Adams and others of their cheezy ilk. Sissies go forth into this world and face, generally on their own, with little support from those who should be standing with them, the daily and often terrifying abuse of those who consider them too girly-ish for words. It takes some balls to live in this world like you've got a right to live here when most of the people you run into every day treat you with contempt.

Heh. I'd like to see Cheney and the rest of these creampuffs survive what sissies have to find a way to survive every day of their lives.

(No offense to creampuffs intended, of course.)

One of my coworkers went with a friend on one of these so called canned hunts out in Texas. This one was a 40 acre fenced in area that a wild boar would be released in. Dogs were sent after the boar, and after it was pinned by the dogs the hunter then had the option of killing it with a rifle, a pistol, a boar spear or a knife. My coworker's friend decided to use a rifle, and parked his truck in the field while he filmed the "hunt".

On cue, the boar, chased by the dogs, burst out of the brush, running across the field. The "hunter", filming the dramatic chase, panned across the field, and showed the boar headed right for the now open door of his truck. Before he could stop it, the 300 pound wild boar, followed by the dogs, all leaped into his truck, where a massive Donnybrook took place for several minutes. My coworker was laughing way too hard to be any help, and the "hunter" had no idea what to do anyway. Eventually someone opened the other door and the boar and dogs got out, but the entire interior of the truck was destroyed by the fighting animals.

The coworker said he could always get a rise out of his friend by asking him if he was going out west to hunt any more boars.

Moe99: It was the Duke of Buckingham at the "hunt". D'Artagnan had just raced across the Channel to reclaim the diamond studs.

'Canned hunts'? Where is Jean Claude van Damme when you really need him? Or was that a different piece of 'family entertainment'?

I might not agree with 'pleasure' hunting, but I can see why some otherwise rational and reasonable people might derive a satisfaction from it that don't understand, but what sort of dickless wonder is going to indulge an a charade and then pretend it is the real thing?

Guns are 'fun'?

Going back a bit, I'll speak up to defend the autochthonous practice of the buffalo jump -- bison are about the size of a VW Beetle, and it's really quite dangerous to kill one with arrows and spears. Plus, it was done for survival, not for the thrill or just a trophy.

So very much a different hunting paradigm than a canned hunt, really.

Gods above. From what I'm hearing, *I* could probably shoot something on one of those canned hunts - and I'm a female, with impaired depth perception (selective monoptical perception as a result of treatment for amblyopia) and absolutely lousy aim with *anything*, who has never handled a gun in her life. I combine this with a lack of large muscle coordination which means I'm the only person I know of who can trip going *up* stairs.

If they want a challenge, why not damn well sneak up on the animal and pat it? If you can do that, then get away safely afterwards, you're a big brave man, and I'll be willing to accept it. But doing the equivalent of "fish, barrel, tacnuke" - please! Grow a flippin' life.

My family was discussing canned hunts while on a nature drive last weekend, and the discussion turned into trying to figure out how you could insult someone's masculinity without being rude to gay people in the process. I finally figured out that it's not the machismo or the lack of it that's the problem, it's the lying. I grew up in a culture where people went out and stalked deer and moose and shot them and dressed them and that was the meat their families ate all winter (or longer; I'm here to tell you that a frozen moose lasts forever). Drunk idiots who go out and blast away at anything that moves are decidedly a lower order of being and despised by all right-thinking people. People who go on canned hunts (which I don't think any of us had ever heard of back when) are beneath even that.

And even more ironic is that the men who go on canned hunts probably consider my people to be white trash and contemptible.

I've always thought Cheney tried too hard to project the tough guy image to be for real. This just confirms it. As near as I can tell, the real tough guys have nothing to prove. They don't go around cultivating the image. They don't go around doing things that trumpet they're tough guys. They certainly don't engage in some sort of set up trophy kill, then behave as if they've done the real thing.

I think you're a tough guy when no one buys your best effort to camouflage.

Insulting someone's masculinity without implicitly insulting gay people, eh? Should be easy enough; just attack on their missing sterotypically masculine virtues.

Example: "You limp-dicked, irrational, overemotional coward. Better hope you don't lose the job your schmoozing and ass-kissing has kept you so far, or else your family is going to starve. Better hope your friends don't abandon you-- because without their constant help, you'll be whining to strangers for handouts in a week. Better not lose the repairmen's numbers; I despair to think what would happen if you tried to fix something yourself. Better not lose your calcuator; I doubt you remember enough arithmetic to compute a tip, let alone any of the underlying mathematics. And I hope you remain uninjured-- because given your inability to withstand pain, your whimpering would be annoying."

Yeah, guns are fun, at least in my experience. I found out that I didn't like killing things with one, but shooting old cold cream jars with an air rifle at my granddad's ranch was transcendently delightful, especially since I'd had years without practice of any sort and seemed to be shooting better than ever. It was also fun helping Dad mold and reload ammo in the basement, and make arrows. I keep thinking of going to a target range, but these things cost money.

I'm pretty sure Dad enjoyed hunting, which put much-needed meat on our table (he was a working musician supporting a family of six), but even if he didn't bring anything back, I know he had a good time along the way.

On the other hand, make-believe manlymen like Cheney and Adams... well, as Confucius might say, "The man who shoots fish in a barrel usually has liquid running down his leg."

Martyn --

Yeah, guns are fun. Shooting accurately is a considerable challenge, too.

On the whole inappropriate overcompensation thing, often, yeah, but it's just as often plain old-fashioned blood-lust. It doesn't matter what or how very much, so long as they get to kill something with eyes and a spine.

Drunk idiots who go out and blast away at anything that moves are decidedly a lower order of being and despised by all right-thinking people.

I lived for seven years on a farm in the tropics where, in season, drunk idiots felt they had every right to trespass, break fence, and shoot livestock. In that time, a total of two people asked permission to come on the land to hunt. Both got that permission (granted, one was the local police inspector, and the other was the prime minister's son-in-law). Those who were told to leave complained bitterly -- I kept getting asked 'How come your father loves birds so much?' -- at being prevented from indulging their urge to shoot birds (especially birds roosting on branches). Of course, when you've had a good breeding cow shot in the face by some idiot who mistook it for a bird you tend to get a bit angry.

Of course, when you've had a good breeding cow shot in the face by some idiot who mistook it for a bird you tend to get a bit angry.

GRIN - quote of the day for me. :-)

My ex father in law was a devoted hunter. He even had a dog, and it turned out he was a very good hunting dog, pointing at beehives, bushes, and the like with great enthusiasm (as well as being the most handsome, funny and smart English Setter I've ever seen - I won't say I miss him more than the ex, but I miss him a lot).

The thing is, my in-law would go out hunting and somehow never came back with actual dead meat. He did come back, however, with a wounded owl, three orphaned birds whose name in English now doesn't occur to me, and several other instances of wildlife in need of help and succor.

He had his faults but I always loved him very much.

I think the canned hunt makes perfect sense. Teresa's title about the astroturf organizations says it all. "No intention of playing fair "

These guys like to win. That's all that matters. Who cares if the bird can barely fly? Who cares if the bear is drugged? The animal lost, the hunter won. Rigged elections, lies, cronyism, Guantanamo, shooting a caged animal, it's all bloodsport with rigged odds.

Nah--not he-men--not even fake he-men. Aristocrats. That's how aristocrats have always hunted.

Insulting someone's masculinity without implicitly insulting gay people, eh?

You make a lack of masculinity sound like a bad thing. :)

I always think the issue in situations like this is the pathetic self-delusion more than anything to do with somebody's delusions, or the lack thereof, of masculinity, or the lack thereof. Which is what calling somebody a sissy is meant to strike at, of course. These delusions, I mean. "You think you are a Tough Guy, eh? You are just a sissy." (FX: sound of balloon popping.)

Trouble is, most sissies I know are tough as nails and notably freer of the sort of self-delusions most people suffer from. I'm not saying it's insulting to gay people to call somebody a sissy; I'm just saying it's inaccurate to call these kinds of Tough Guys sissies. I mean... if only.

I generally confine myself to formulations like: "Think you're a Tough Guy, eh? Shooting poor, dumb, trapped animals who don't have a chance? Yeah, you're some Tough Guy, all right."

There are, as has been pointed out upstream, different levels of stocking ponds/streams with fish.

I know that here in Missouri a farmer can (or could ten years ago) dig himself out a pond, fill it, and the conservation dept would stock it with fish. It's not really for the purpose of fishing, but the farmer I knew who told me this (while I was fishing in one of his ponds) occasionally does use them for fishing. Still, in a situation like this, the fish has an even chance, as long as you aren't using, say, dynamite.

Same for some stocking that's done for the purpose of fishing--if it's not overstocked, say, or if the fish have an avenue of escape. Once again, in Missouri there are "trout parks" that work this way. The trout are not overstocked, and if they're smart enough to swim back the way they came, they're safe for good (fish sanctuary!). If they go downstream far enough, they're out of the park, and the density of fishers drops precipitously. So the fish has a fighting chance. Fishing places like that is a bit easier than fishing just anywhere, but I can tell you from personal experience that it's not shooting fish in a barrel.

Now, I have relatives by marriage who go to a lake stocked with trout. You pay by the pound for whatever fish you pull out, no throwing back. And no escape route. They stock the thing so thick you can practically walk across the water on trout backs, and the trout are huge, to keep the price up. Now that's fish in a barrel. What's more, these relatives don't really like fish very much, just fishing, and so they end up with a freezer full of giant fish that just sits there.

I've stopped associating with those particular relatives by marriage. Sure, fish aren't fuzzy, but....ugh.

Ana: Your ex father-in-law sounds like a decent chap.

Once, we nursed back to health a bird some idiot hunter had wounded. What made us really angry was that the bird, a pea dove, belonged to an endangered species and was on the protected list.

Now, organising a canned hunt of idiots who shoot endangered animals and those who don't even bother to look for the birds they've shot, that has a certain appeal.

Hell, the White House is overrun with phoneys. I then can't say I'm overly surprised that even their hunting is a phoney act. Besides, as Sean Bosker pointed out above, those guys are all about winning. Doesn't matter how they win.

Ailsa Ek writes:

Drunk idiots who go out and blast away at anything that moves are decidedly a lower order of being and despised by all right-thinking people. People who go on canned hunts (which I don't think any of us had ever heard of back when) are beneath even that.

And even more ironic is that the men who go on canned hunts probably consider my people to be white trash and contemptible.

Not bad. Throw in the sissies and the creampuffs, mentioned above, and you have the seeds of a new variation on The Geek Hierarchy.

I recall what MAD Magazine once said:

"The North American Hunter can be identified by his big red coat, his big red cap and his big red nose!"

Or the Monty Python sketch "Hunting Mosquitos":

"Hank and Roy Spim are tough, fearless backwoodsmen who have chosen to live in a violent, unrelenting world of nature's creatures, where only the fittest survive. Today they are off to hunt mosquitoes..."

Meg Thornton,
I too fall up stairs. It's the falling down them that scares me.

Come on people... look at the bright side. Cheney learns from his mistakes, when there are variables, randomness, chance, and real life circumstances in play, he shoots the wrong thing. This is a life affirming possibly life-saving decision on his part. At the very least it avoids further reckless endangerment, manslaughter, or murder cases brought against him.

If all members of our government showed as much adaptability and ability to learn from misstep we might be in a much better place these days.

Of course, when you've had a good breeding cow shot in the face by some idiot who mistook it for a bird you tend to get a bit angry.

Old joke: A farmer gets fed up with having his livestock blown away during deer season every year, so he goes out and buys a bucket of bright yellow paint, and labels everything. He paints "COW" on the side of the cows, and "HORSE" on the horses, and "CHICKEN" on the chickens. Then he and his family go down into the deer-season bunker until the shooting stops.

The day after hunting season, he comes back out, and lo and behold, the cows, horses, and chickens are all fine. "Hot damn," he says, and hops on his tractor to get back to work.

And the engine won't start. There's a bullet hole through it, right where it says "John Deere."

Chad Orzel: Fortunately, I wasn't drinking coffee.

When I was fairly young, I bought a .22 caliber rimfire rifle. I'd take it out to the pasture, set tin cans up on strings, and see how far out I could hit them. Once in a while, I'd take it over to a friend's farm and he had his own 22, and we'd shoot cans and see how far out we could hit them.

At some poitn, I put a optical scope on it, which was a whole lot bigger around than the rifle was. The first time I took it over to my friend's place with the scope, he gave me all this grief about having a big scope on a little rifle. Plus the thing would shift over time, so I' have to take several shots to get it lined up.

Anyway, he was giving me a whole lot of grief, so finally, after I had it sighted in, I pointed to an old barn about twice as far away as the cans we were shooting at, and asked him if he mind if I shot the lightning rod off the roof. (The barn had a hole in the roof and the siding was coming off, so it wasn't like it would notice) It was a foot tall spike, no ceramic ball or anything, going straigt up from the peak.

He laughed, said I couldn't hit it anyway so it didn't matter. I asked if it was OK again. He laughed again and said "yes". So, I settled down into a comfortable spot, aimed for about a minute, pulled the trigger real slow, and when the rifle finally fired, nothing happened.

My friend started laughing at me. And I got up, handed him the rifle, and told him to look through the scope.

The lightning rod had a hole going through the middle of it.

Well, actually, it was a "C" shaped hole because the bullet must have cut through one side of the lightning rod. And there was a sliver of metal on the other side that was still holding the lightning rod up.

He stopped giving me grief about my scope after that.

Meg Thornton: I have tripped going upstairs. Subway stairs. Or maybe I slipped. But I've taken my share of near face-plants onto metal-edged concrete stairs on the way up.

And I like dance and shit, you know? I can throw things with a fair degree of accuracy, and I spin fire and like that. So tripping going up stairs isn't necessarily a sign of klutzism.

Stephan: I LOVE IT!!!! Kudos.

OTOH, I have a minor problem with the notion of insulting people's masculinity in general: lack of masculinity, as Michael Weholt points out, is not a bad thing. And the notion that it is is a form of sexism. If you can insult a man by comparing him to a woman, you implicitly insult all women. In this same fashion, using 'gay' to mean 'stupid and/or lame' implicitly insults gay people. (I was flatspinning a towel at the gym the other day, and this young guy I know said "That's the gayest thing I've ever seen you do." I retorted "You could see me do something much gayer if you play your cards right!")

And again, the notion that "sissies" are necessarily gay is inaccurate too, as is the notion that gay people are necessarily sissies. I'm on the butch side (not by much, but not a sissy these days), and I'm as gay as they come (and they do, / /a/n/d/ /a/l/w/a/y/s/ /t/o/o/ /s/o/o/n/). I've met some pretty...effeminate guys who were completely hetero, too. These things just don't covary as much as people assume they do. Also, I was much more of a sissy when I was younger.

So I second Michael on "You say 'sissy' like it's a bad thing." They're wimps, wusses, cowards, losers, and fake-ass self-deluded jackholes. Plenty of wordage there.

blech. Don't we have Teddy Bears because some dude... oh... his name's escaping me right now... rhymed with Gosevelt... decided that this sort of thing was totally incompatible with the American spirit?

My dad's uncle used to hunt deer. Since he lived alone and couldn't possibly eat all the spoils of his hunting, he had a habbit of dragging his kills onto the property of needy families and then knocking on their door to inform them that the animal was theirs because it'd been killed on their land. He'd skin it, clean it, etc, stuff their freezer full of the meat, and offer to sell the hide for them.

To me, that sounds like an awesome way to excercize a hobby and help the community at the same time. And honestly, as much as I love the cute little guys, deer would starve themselves to death if people didn't shoot 'em.

Not that I've got the cajones, but at least I know better than to shoot caged ones. And I am a sissy girl.

Not that I've got the cajones...

Ha! I knew there was a reason to learn Spanish!

You mean cojones, actually. Unless, of course, you meant to say you didn't have the drawers for this sort of thing.

What IS maculinity, by the way? I mean, besides killing and breaking things? I look at Dubya and Cheney and I see that kind of masculinity. I look at Bill Clinton, and I see the other obvious kind. I look at Al Gore and I see a third kind, where one builds things and a world.

As to the good breeding cow shot in the face by some idiot who mistook it for a bird: I recently lost a good breeding cow to an idiot teenager who shot her in the eye with a paintball.

There's definitely a geek hierarchy equivalent in the hunting world; I'm at a loss to determine if bow hunters or black powder hunters would be at the top, though. Dad accidentally killed a ruffed grouse with a thrown rock once; wonder where that would rate?

What IS maculinity, by the way?

I think masculinity is a competitiveness, like having a game with rules and seeing who can win that game. It would describe sports, but it doesn't have to be physical games. It could even be business. I think one of the key requirements of masculinity is having the ability to take risks. To be able to act, to move, to choose, in the face of uncertainty and even fear.

The healthy version of this would motivate people to use competition as a way to better themselves.

Where this get convoluted is when competition stops being about doing your best and starts being about lording over the losers. It also gets messed up when it goes from "taking risks, acting in the face uncertainty" and morphs into "wipe out all fear".

The idea of hunting a caged animal seems to commit both mistakes. It isn't about making the individual better, it's about dominating the other. And it does so in a situation that actually removes all risks by caging the animal.

Now, I don't have a problem with caging an animal on a farm and raising it to feed yourself or others. But that can be masculine in a different way, the risks being the weather, the health of the herd, the price of fuel and food. The competition being to do it as efficiently as possible so you can actually make a profit when it's all over.

But to drop a chunk of money to have someone set up a "hunt" between you and a caged animal doesn't challenge you to better yourself and has removed all risks. I'm not sure what that is, but I wouldn't call it masculine.

blech. Don't we have Teddy Bears because some dude... oh... his name's escaping me right now... rhymed with Gosevelt... decided that this sort of thing was totally incompatible with the American spirit?

I seem to recall that the noble Roosevelt in question pardoned the bear cub's life... because there were reporters with cameras there. The bear was subsequently shot a little later once cameras were safely out of the way. So while this is probably a relevant comparison for canned hunting and the current administration's relationship to it, perhaps not in the way you intended.

(It may well be that I'm incorrect in this 'rest of the story' variation, mind; I'm failing to find my original source for it, despite searching.)

Pardoname, Miguel. No soy un buen deletreista. Pero tampoco tengo los cajones, aunque no creo que se fabrican bombachas especiales para cazadores. A lo menos, no lo tengo.

[[Pardon me, Michael. I'm a bad speller. But I also don't have the drawers, because I don't think they make special underwear for hunters. At least I don't have any.]]

Oh boy, have I got a treat for canned hunting fans (and by "fans" I mean people who, like me, think it is pathetically faux-macho and in many respects hilarious). This video link is from a segment on The Daily Show just after the whole Dick Cheney "Oops I thought your face was a bird" incident. Alternatively, click over to this page, and it's the second video link down, the one titled "Nate Corddry goes on an Easter Egg hunt... of death."

I loves me some satire.

Avram, I'm looking forward to watching the Borat video clip, but right now I'm stymied by YouTube's "scheduled maintenance" or something. Pfft - I can't believe they're bogarting the comedy like that. :P

Canned hunts have a long tradition (bow and stable hunting, birds from cages, etc.). Some of them go back to days when this was a way of getting meat, and fair wasn't an issue.

Nowadays, they aren't justified, at least not in the West.

To be half fair to the Duke of Buckingham, as portrayed, he was killing the deer with a deer sword, and so was at some risk.

As for the bear... I'm not sure how I'd feel about one hanging about. For a day or so, maybe. But bears are big (even when smaller than a person. Cubs can kill you, and my equivalent of claws is a gun) and if the decide one's home is a feeding ground, it is likely to get ugly.

So, absent more info, I can't condemn the man out of hand, because I don't know that I might not have made the same decision.

In Cambodia just outside Phnom Penh, there's a place where you can pay $20 or so to fire a rocket-propelled grenade. For an extra hundred, they offered to bring in a water buffalo for a target.

Cans are breeders of International Agents of Botulism.

Many cans contain liquids, some even gels. You know the drill.

A wounded can may pursue its hunter for long distances, especially downhill.

Can hunting is a great Ameri-CAN tradition. Think of the Pilgrims, utterly alone in the New World, bringing down cranberry sauce to serve with their turkey loaf. Or the Cowpokers building the first railroad to the Moon with the herds of baked beans and Hormel chili that once darkened the plains. GIs fought their way from the Normandy beaches to wherever it was, shooting the wild K-rats in Beggars Canyon. And the skills so honed will serve us all well in the Robot Wars to come.

Blasting cans is not just American, it is Real American. Just ask your Mom, the next time she takes the lid off some apple pie filling.

He hates these cans!

Hormel chili that once darkened the plains...

Cue to the campfire scene in Blazing Saddles?

Cowpokers building the first railroad to the Moon ... shooting the wild K-rats in Beggars Canyon

You've a strange, strange mind, Mr. Ford.

In re: Terry's comments about the bear situation: pest control, or dealing with an imminent threat, is one thing. But were that the true reason, whence the motivation to bring over someone to snap a picture of man posing with ex-ursoid, and then show the photograph around?

Still, the central point about not being able to condemn without more information is a particularly good one. And truth be told, if I'd had to plug something with claws like that myself, dang straight I would have gotten a picture and bragged about it. But I'd also expect a lot of rolling eyes, with women snickering, "Pfah. Men." under their breath.

I think Sean Bosker nailed this one.

Onward.

Bill Higgins, JESR: If there's a geek hierarchy equivalent in the hunting world, the eldest of my three brothers is way up there. He's the lunatic who crawled into a drainage pipe to retrieve his arrow and the javelina he'd wounded with it. (Admittedly, he thought the javelina was dead.) After waiting years for an elk permit, he went bowhunting and gave up the best shot he had because he wasn't absolutely sure it would kill the elk on the spot. He does black powder stuff. I can't imagine him shooting farm-raised wingless quailtards.

Greg, I like the CSI story. Aside from the morality of canned hunts, the guy was an idiot. If a bear's skull had been designed to deflect bullets, it wouldn't have come out any different.

Fred: No. Definitely not.

John: You know it's a canned hunt when the customer is given the option of using a rifle, pistol, boar spear, or knife. A boar spear is as up-close and personal as I'd ever want to get with a wild boar, and I'd be wishing I had a gun the whole time. A knife is not an appropriate weapon for hunting boar. If you do use one, it's either because there's no other choice and you're about to get mauled, or it's a setup for outrageous bragging rights -- in actuality, just a coup de grace after the dogs have run the boar to exhaustion.

That said, your story about the boar and dogs in the truck made me laugh so hard it hurt.

Martyn Taylor, guns are indeed fun. Promise.

Connie: Bison. Distinctly nontrivial.

JC, Real tough guys don't brag. It's taboo. I swear, their noses go up in the air when other guys do it.

Stephan: Great performance. I am totally not surprised.

Derek, I'm in a place where I can't watch videos, but if that clip from the Daily Show is the one I think it is, I laughed myself silly the first half-dozen times I watched it. Ask someone who was at a Wiscon music party this year about the three-part round to the tune of "Dona Nobis Pacem".

And truth be told, if I'd had to plug something with claws like that myself, dang straight I would have gotten a picture and bragged about it.

Of course in your case, Stephan, it'd be hard to decide which of the two of you looked surlier.

Annalee Flower Horne: Cajones are not that kind of drawer. Cajón is literally a large caja or box.

Más, tengo que decirte que aunque se escribe "pardon" en inglés o francés, en castellano se escribe "perdon". Ruego que me disculpas.

Speaking of tough guys, check out these Bruce Schneier facts.

Stephan: I don't think I'd take a picture next to it. That strikes me as unseemly, and lacking in respect for the animal.

I would get a rug made out of the hide.

Funny thing, in the funny odd, not funny ha-ha, Maia (my better half, for them as don't know) is a Quaker. I'd never killed anything (aside from insects), on purpose, before we started going out.

Her family has chickens, and geese, and fruit trees. Raccoons and oppossums come after the first two, and squirrels the last.

They have an air-rifle (very nice .22, scoped, adjustable trigger). They hate it. It was used only for raccoons which had run up trees. They preferred to use pitchforks to kill things.

I, being the sort I am, thought this both cruel, and senseless. So at three in the morning I have shot a fair number of the beasties (which is the way it goes, so long as the raccoons stay away from the chickens... and two raccoons will slaughter an entire coop and leave, never to return) I leave them be.

As soon as the geese hiss at them, we go outside and I shoot them.

Squirrels, in plum and peach season, are allowed to run free, until they approach the fruit trees. Maia's mother want's me to come by on afternoons Maia's father isn't home (because he hates the air-rifle, with a passion, and protecting the chickens is iffy in his book) and sit outside with a book, a pitcher of lemonade and pot them. They have been most fruitful the past couple of years, and she has been, as a result, somewhat fruitless.

Avram: Speaking of tough guys, check out these Bruce Schneier facts.

Even more manly is the "This space unintentionally left blank" notice on that page. For years, I've been dying to see somebody admit to that.

guns are indeed fun. Promise.

that was basically the gist of the .22 cal with scope shooting lightning rod story.

Sorry guys. I was taught how to shoot by the British Army, using weapons designed to kill people. I was pretty good at it, so they told me.

It was no fun at all.

Martyn Taylor: I'm sorry you don't enjoy guns. Not because there is something inherently wrong with you, but rather because some aspects of it were done badly.

Honestly, all guns are designed to kill things. Some are better for killing people than other things (the SA 80A2 H&K, for one, isn't much good for killing things much larger than people, though it will do a more than adequate job on, "varmints").

Most of the .30 caliber weapons in the world are based on a small number of designs which were meant for armies.

Just like swords (which don't have much function, other than killing people, or practicing for it), this doesn't really have much impact on the nature of things. It's what's done with them which matters.

I tend to find it reflects more on the person using them than it does the weapons themselves.

Sort of like karate, or aikido, or various breeds of dog.

I suspect the fun-ness of guns depends on what you're aiming at. (I was aiming an air-rifle at crows in a tree a hundred or so feet away, and up twenty or thirty feet. Not so much to kill them as to make them decide they didn't want to make their home in the neighborhood. The grackles were much worse, and I understand the guy who bought the place a year or so later used a shotgun to discourage them in a much more permanent way.)

Sort of like karate, or aikido, or various breeds of dog.

Oh, I love Aikidos! They're my favorite breed!

Not only are they beautiful, they can throw down your enemies without even touching them.

And their distinctive bark, Hai!

I was taught how to shoot by the British Army ... It was no fun at all.

Well, the military can do that to a person. Someone who learned to skydive in the military might not want to do it "for fun" as a civilian.

I think the thing I liked most about shooting was long range target sniping. paper targets, tin cans, old bottles. to hit something like a popcan a few hundred yards away means you have to have completely control of your body, from your breathing, relax your muscles as much as possible, and connect with the ground. Completely relaxed and completely focused. For me, it was almost meditative in its own way. I might take a minute or two to take a single shot.

But it just might not be your cup of tea.

I generally skip the threads about knitting, since it doesn't do anything for me personally.

aikido. one of these days I'll get back into that. did it for a couple years in college. it was almost like sniping in that it was a time of being simultaneously completely relaxed and completely focused.

Stefan, that's their "Master's home from work" bark. Their "Intruder alert!" bark is Ki-ai! Ki-ai! Ki-ai!

The only problem with even a .22 rifle is the bullet can easily travel a mile if you aim up into the air, such as at a bird in a tree. I was always taught to aim a rifle, even a .22, at targets where you knew what was behind it; a tree, mound of earth, or aiming downward so the bullet hits the ground. Larger rifles of course can go much further.

My father hunts snapping turtles in the farm ponds by shooting them with a .22 pistol over open sights, from about 75'-100' away. He hits them in the back of the head when they stick the tip of their nose out of the water to get some air. A day or two later they come back up, with a little bullet hole in the center of their skulls.

A day or two later they come back up, with a little bullet hole in the center of their skulls.

Heavens to Betsy!! Snapping Turtle Zombies?? I will never go near a farm pond again.

The velocity of a .22 Long Rifle bullet at a mile, if it gets that far, is simply that of gravity pulling it down against air resistance. It's a low-mass low-velocity round. Not that you want to get hit by one that manages to make it a mile--it would definitely hurt. But it's very unlikely to make any holes in you at that kind of extreme range, or do much real damage unless it hits you in the head. Not enough mass versus air resistance, not enough initial muzzle velocity.

None of which is a good excuse to shoot one without knowing exactly what's beyond the target. And larger mass/caliber and higher-velocity bullets sure can do damage at distance, and do. A few people get hurt or killed every year by idjits who shoot up in the air, usually in urban areas on "fireworks" holidays.

Canned hunts? Jeez, mon, just kill it and pack up the meat already. Posing for "trophy" pictures from a canned hunt is like posing with a lobster at the market.

a .22 rifle is the bullet can easily travel a mile

No worries, John, this was back on the farm where the nearest neighbor was maybe a mile away, and only if you pointed in the right direction. It was a whole lot of nothing in between.

The tin cans were usually set up in a pasture, with a hill right behind them. The lightning rod was up in the air, but it would have been nothing but fields behind it for a couple miles.

If it had been a "real" rifle, I wouldn't have taken that shot.

Tully: A few people get hurt or killed every year by idjits who shoot up in the air, usually in urban areas on "fireworks" holidays.

Evidence? IIRC, "Mythbusters" suggested this was untrue, because bullets shot at a high angle tended to tumble when coming down and fall accordingly slowly.

CHip, a tourist actually did die from a skyward-aimed bullet in New Orleans on New Year's Eve some years back. I recall the news story quoting the poor woman's companion--that she just suddenly fell down, and they didn't know why until they got her to the hospital and found the bullet. The angle of the bullet (and, presumably, the lack of gun-retort in their vicinity) was what made them conclude it had been shot into the air--possibly from as far away as the West Bank.

My husband and I were in New Orleans for the next New Year. A dulcimer player in the Quarter asked us whether we planned to stick around for "the lottery of death."

"Mythbusters" suggested this was untrue

They did, and did elaborate tests to establish it, but they also talked to an MD who had X-rays from two cases, with ballistics evidence that the bullets had come from guns great distances away. They never managed to resolve that, though they came up with a couple of hypotheses.

Maybe a heavier gauge of tin should go into one's hat.

Addendum: How does one google the news story surrounding the incident? My search strings all end in failure!

I always wonder how many people get injured by bullets fired by those mobs of folks who "celebrate" by firing guns in the air. This seems to happen in places where guns, particularly AK-47s and Kalashnikovs, are plentiful.

Re rounds fired into the air:

No, they aren't very dangerous, but they can do some damage.

Andectdotes, for what they're worth.

When I was in gradeschool a local teacher getting hit in the side of the face was a minor bit of big news, as they tried to figure out who had done it.

Turns out it was someone shooting at someone else about a half mile away with a .45.

Same neighborhood: I was at a scout meeting and there was a loud thump, and then a rattle and something landed in the bushes. It was a spent .357 slug (no one puts a slug that heavy into a .38). Probably wouldn't have killed anyone, had it hit them, but a mild concussion, and some stitches could be expected.

If it were a spitzer (pointed slug with a boat-tailed back end) from a .30 rifle, at a low anngle of fire (not more than 35 degrees above horizontal) it could probaly still do a fair bit of damage, esp. with some of the .300 magnum and short .300 magnum rounds being so popular.

TNH: "If there's a geek hierarchy equivalent in the hunting world, the eldest of my three brothers is way up there. He's the lunatic who crawled into a drainage pipe to retrieve his arrow and the javelina he'd wounded with it."

Your eldest brother = Col. John Sebastian "Tiger Jack" Moran, late 1st Bangalore Pioneers.

("He once played a tiger - would do it again -
Which an Indian Colonel pursued down a drain" - Gus, the Theatre Cat.)

Linkmeister said: I always wonder how many people get injured by bullets fired by those mobs of folks who "celebrate" by firing guns in the air. This seems to happen in places where guns, particularly AK-47s and Kalashnikovs, are plentiful.

I vaguely recalled an article in The Wall Street Journal back in the 1980s about people getting injured in Belgrade from celebratory gunfire on New Year's. This was before the civil war(s), mind you; there are more guns there now.

And in fact this web page mentions all sorts of injuries and deaths, primarily in SE Europe, the Middle East, and Pakistan. Following a public awareness campaign in Serbia: "For the first time in 15 years, there were no accidents in Belgrade over the New Year period." They also mention an incident in Lebanon: "Three people died and eight were wounded in one night of celebratory gunfire, following the election of a new speaker of parliament."

("AK-47s and Kalashnikovs" -- the AK-47 is a Kalashnikov, no?)

I always wonder how many people get injured by bullets fired by those mobs of folks who "celebrate" by firing guns in the air.

The MythBusters tested that one a few weeks ago and, if I remember correctly, the only way the bullet could kill you is if it was shot exactly straight up. Still, that's one I wouldn't want to verify even in exchange for a date with MythBustette Kari Byron.

There were numerous injuries and a few deaths from "happy fire" in Kuwait, following the eviction of the Iraqis in Gulf War I. I recall reading about it at the time. This did involve lots of people stepping outside and ripping off entire 30-round magazines, of course. In terms of an actual hazard to life and limb, not so much. Lightning or dog attack is far more likely to kill you.

In terms of having fun shooting at things, I'm going to recommend 10-meter air pistols and rifles. They are exquitely precise (upper-end ones are intended for Olympic competition), inexpensive to use, and quiet. I sold all my firearms except the shotgun after buying an Anschutz M10. I now hate shooting handguns--they are expensive, noisy, and uncomfortable.

The MythBusters tested that one a few weeks ago and, if I remember correctly, the only way the bullet could kill you is if it was shot exactly straight up. Still, that's one I wouldn't want to verify even in exchange for a date with MythBustette Kari Byron.

I've never actually seen the show, but according to this episode summary, they concluded that bullets fired exactly straight up would not kill you, because they would end up falling side-on to the ground, and not very fast. But they accepted the idea that bullets fired at a high angle could retain their ballistic properties, and noted a couple of cases in Northern California where people were injured or killed by falling bullets.

In other words, Peter, I reversed the MythBusters's conclusions. Time for my first cup of crappy instant coffee of the day.

In addition to my above defense of guns and hunting, I'll add that the existence of idiots has long been known.

Family friends in rural Texas occasionally have shots fired at their house by morons in vehicles on the county road who see wild turkeys in their yard.

A gas station owner near my old home town in Colorado used to keep raise mule deer in a fenced enclosure. He finally gave up, broken hearted, because people who considered themselves hunters would stand at the fence and shoot the tame deer that walked up to them expecting food.

Also, if somebody invented a material for road signs that would send bullets back exactly in the direction they were fired from, with undiminished velocity, I'd be all for using it.

In addition to my above defense of guns and hunting, I'll add that the existence of idiots has long been known.

"...I went and shot the maximum the game laws would allow -
Two game wardens, seven hunters, and a cow."

I always wonder how many people get injured by bullets fired by those mobs of folks who "celebrate"

An slightly related bit of information. While on jury duty, the case involved a shootout and something like 15 to 20 rounds were fired in the heart of the city, based on the number of shell casings found at the scene. only two bullets were recovered. Several experts testified that this was not unusual in an outdoor shooting.

As for shooting into the air being dangerous, the Mythbuster show decided that if you shot far enough from straight up (like if you put the rifle on your leg and let a few off) then the bullet could follow a parabolic path, keep spinning correctly, and maintain a high velocity. Which is to say, never shoot in the air if you don't know what's around you. (They shot a 30-06 straight up, by going out into the desert somewhere and had several miles of nothing all around them. And they and the crew hid under slabs of balistic glass.)

10m air-rifle is probably the most demanding shooting discipline in the world (I used to compete, tried out for the '84 Olympic team. I'm a good shot, better than most. I'd have needed a career day to make the cut. As expected, I didn't have one. But I did try out)

Iron sights (no scope, for those who don't speak the lingo).

A 4.5mm (.17 inch) projectile.

A 1mm target.

If any of the center isn't hit, one scores a 9, not a 10.

Shot from standing, no sling, or other support allowed, just the arm (though to be honest, the rifles are tricked out, and balanced to a fair thee well.

Men shoot a 60 round string, women a 40 (don't ask me why the difference, seems silly to me)

The woman who took gold in 84 shot a "drop 2", which means a 398, out of 400.

The reason I remember is that she was "a natural." She'd only been shooting for 18 months.

Here's a collection of news stories at the Puerto Rico Herald about the issue:

http://www.puertorico-herald.org/issues/2004/vol8n53/LiveEd/53-NYEveInjur.shtml

Mentioned: "Shannon's Law,"

in memory of 14-year-old Shannon Smith, killed by a stray bullet in June 1999 while talking on her phone in her back yard. The law makes it a felony to fire a gun into the air within the city limits.

In these links, mention is made of Amy Silberman, who was killed in 1994 by celebratory gunfire. But 1994 is way too early for the incident I was thinking of.

http://members.macconnect.com/users/s/scpicou/pastletters.shtml
http://www.andrewfoxbooks.com/rgae.htm
Search in page for: "gunfire"

And this one is too recent to be the one I'm thinking of:

Falling bullet victim paralyzed (Tuesday, January 03, 2006)

(Except I'm having a hard time reconciling the title's mention of "falling bullet" and a recap of the "shooting guns in the air" problem with the witness account of "shooting guns in the direction of the levee.")

And this discussion on the Snopes message boards contains links to more news stories in mainstream media about the phenomenon (one of them the Jan 2006 story referenced above). They also discuss the velocity and air resistance problem.

In any case, the incidence of falling bullet injuries and fatalities appears to be more prevalent than Mythbusters would have us believe--if I understand correctly their grudging admission that maybe, once in awhile, it might happen.

Am I the only person who is more than slightly sick of laws named after unfortunate children?

If the law is needed, then it should be able to be argued on its own, without naked appeals to emotion.

("AK-47s and Kalashnikovs" -- the AK-47 is a Kalashnikov, no?)

Yes of course the AK47 is a Kalashnikov - milled dust cover and all. All AK-47 are Kalashnikov just as not all Kalashnikov are AK-47.

The K stands for Kalashnikov (as you know Bob the designer's name). AK-47 dates to 1947 as the name implies. Later models such as the AK-M use a stamped dust cover although like all firearms the changing manufacture reflects machining methods as the most economical methods or desirable methods changed over time. With CNC milling is more desirable relative to stamping today just as stamping was more desirable relative to milling in the days of single purpose manual setup machines.

For reasons I will never understand many people choose to call all Kalashnikov designs AK-47s even when they clearly are later versions. FREX there are almost no AK-47's in the United States and almost all in the US are later semi-automatic not full and assorted commercial versions with stamped dustcovers.

Linkmeister, Peter: Belgrade? HAH! Try being in Hialeah on New Year's Eve. Or several other neighborhoods in Miami. Latins have this habit of celebrating with a gun...
Personal experience: my mother was standing in front of her mirror getting ready to go out to a party.She stepped away to put on her jacket and a bullet smashed the mirror. And it wasn't even midnight yet!

appears to be more prevalent than Mythbusters would have us believe

If I remember correctly, they ended that episode by talking with a doctor who had a patient brought into his emergency room from an into-the-air gunshot and the patient died. So I took it as their way of saying, this really does happen, be careful where you're shooting.

10m air-rifle

A 4.5mm (.17 inch) projectile.

A 1mm target.

Am I reading that right?
A one-milimeter target at ten meters?

Belatedly:

Michael Weholt, instead of insulting creampuffs, we could call the pseud-toughs Twinkies: ersatz and annoyingly durable.

A one-milimeter target at ten meters?

Perhaps one might say a 1mm scoring ring.

The target, even the black, is somewhat larger but as noted it's center the 1mm or go home. There is an argument that 10mm guns are the most accurate of all - certainly of handheld without guidance. (obs SF - a wart 8 - Glory Road - no wart 10's in airgun.)

"I'm here to tell you that a frozen moose lasts forever..."

Well, not when it's the only fresh meat for a long Alaskan winter to feed a family of six -- by March, when we butchered the last hung shoulder, we were scraping that bone for every last fleck of stew meat.

But in more prosperous times, yes -- I've pulled moose from the bottom of the freezer that was dated four years previous, and (after cutting off all freezer burn) it wasn't bad. Not quite "fresh" tasting, but fine for stew or chili.

Bear doesn't keep as well in the freezer, there's more fat to "turn" and take on an "off" flavor.

The K stands for Kalashnikov (as you know Bob the designer's name). AK-47 dates to 1947 as the name implies. Later models such as the AK-M use a stamped dust cover although like all firearms the changing manufacture reflects machining methods as the most economical methods or desirable methods changed over time. With CNC milling is more desirable relative to stamping today just as stamping was more desirable relative to milling in the days of single purpose manual setup machines.

There's also something called the AK-74(?), which I gather is essentially the AK-M with smaller-caliber ammunition (following the M-16's use of smaller ammo) and which is what the Russian army currently uses(?).

So what are the typical guns being used in the Middle East and elsewhere outside Russia -- AK-M or AK-74? (Ignoring issues like whether the guns are actually Russian or Chinese copies or local versions.)

center the 1mm or go home

I don't even know if I could see a 1mm dot at 30 feet.

I used to shoot much larger targets (5 gallon cans) at 500 yards with iron sights, but that was a rifle, prone, with an arm strap.

Don't air rifles use BB's? Wouldn't they wobble out of control? Or are they rifled someway to spin them and give them some gyro stabilization. Long gone are the days of the Red Ryder BB gun...

Long gone are the days of the Red Ryder BB gun...

Not hardly. Your basic air rifle, as in what you can find at (most likely) your local discount sporting goods counter, isn't going to be much different at all.

The black - the aiming point - is somewhat more than 1mm - center the black. Of course in general the sights are sharp and the black allowed to be fuzzy.

Precision air guns use a wasp waisted diablo pellet - think badminton shuttle cock which is spin stabilized as well. People are very fussy about the shape of the skirts. Points are flat for target use - think wadcutter - and can be quite pointed for other use - think more penetration for game or shooting through tin (aluminum) cans or even just through the air. Depending on power - think velocity and weight - the flat point can be used for some very small game - the flat point is of course streamlined like a brick. There is a 5mm bore mostly pump mostly US that uses a sharp nosed projectile like a conventional bullet. Common air guns bores run up to a .25 bore. Lewis and Clark had an air gun on the expedition and of course there is the mighty hunter's airgun told of by Watson's eye doctor/literary agent.

Although there is an historical connection between bb shot as a size for lead shot - think bb in the same series as oo buck but much smaller - typical bb guns in the U.S. use a steel shot for bb guns and are not rifled. The steel shot is of course less dense than lead and so has less sectional density and so loses speed more quickly and so falls to the ground harmless at shorter ranges. Notice that in general spherical or nearly spherical projectiles of typical small arms size - today shotgun or air rifle - are not very streamlined and so fall slowly if falling at terminal velocity - but don't try to catch bowling ball size lead ball, not even a duckpins size lead ball.

The mantra is straight magazine good; curved magazine bad. The vast majority of Kalashnikov's in general use are chambered in 7.62X39 - lots of makers around the world with some distinctions many ignore. And of course the move to a smaller cartridge meant the 7.62X39 was more or less surplus in the former Warsaw bloc.

Michael Weholt, instead of insulting creampuffs, we could call the pseud-toughs Twinkies: ersatz and annoyingly durable.

Unfortunately, the term is already in use in the gay community, to mean a) a young man between 18 and 22, b) a young man with the body type typical of that agegroup, or c) a young man with the fluffy personality and silly behavior pattern typical of that age group. Its shortened form 'twink' is also in use.

I believe this usage does come from the snack cake, the theory being that like it, such boys are tasty but insubstantial, and unhealthy if consumed to excess (the sex-as-food metaphor has a long history in the gay male community). I've said cruder things in the past, but won't repeat them here.

The term is definitely considered insulting if used substantively. Used attributively (e.g. "he has a twinkie body") it's less so.

Long gone are the days of the Red Ryder BB gun...

Not hardly. Your basic air rifle, as in what you can find at (most likely) your local discount sporting goods counter, isn't going to be much different at all.

I suspect the original intent was more along the lines that a particular Red Ryder BB gun is one with the neiges d'antan and Jean Sheppard's Christmas past.

I'd say a little bit of both - for those who want one a Red Ryder bb gun is still available - depending on where one chooses to live, San Francisco or California is general is not a good bet - but only subject to local rules I for one consider extreme - places to shoot or even possess an airgun are limited and in some places a toy gun must be bright orange and a normal firearm must not be bright orange for instance.