Today, my adopted home of Pittsburgh is being overrun by the barbarians of willful Second Amendment misinterpretation. They operate under the name of the National Rifle Association, though their mandate appears to be the complete and unfettered ability of every citizen, regardless of mental competency, to carry whatever-the-hell firearm they damn well want wherever-the-hell they damn well want. They’re here for their annual hootenanny. So, Pittsburgh can now lay claim to the coveted title of fetishist convention capital—not long ago we had the fetishists who like to dress up as animals (both natural and mythical) as a prelude to sex play; now we’re hosting the lost souls who become all hot and bothered at the thought of fondling cold, phallic instruments of violent death. At least the “furries” are harmless (though I suppose the dreaded furry-NRA member hybrid might have an easy time concealing a firearm in his walk-around Goofy suit).

Concurrent with the big NRA hoedown is a gun show at the Monroeville Convention Center. There, these fetishists will pay $8.00 for the privilege of exploiting massive loopholes in the few and skimpy gun control measures this violent land of ours imposes. They can also choose from a wide variety of neo-Nazi and/or eliminationist pamphlets, bumper stickers, and trinkets. I’m sure all attendees have the time of their lives.

Needless to say, as a main thoroughfare is being shut down for the convenience of these people, and, more importantly, as certain concealed firearms regulations are being waived, I’ll be steering well clear of downtown Pittsburgh (and Monroeville, for that matter) for the duration of this madness. Were I compelled to do so, I’d certainly outfit myself in one of these:

orange hunting vest with Don't Shoot I'm a Man printed on it
Recommended Pittsburgh fashion statement for duration NRA hootenanny

I’ll let Devo take it from here….