I Demand Satisfaction

I miss the days of pistols at dawn.

I’m not usually a historical romantic; I like living in the modern age. I like cutting-edge medicine, supermarkets, hygiene, Habeas Corpus and the Internet. A lot of gamer/fantasy dorks are all “man, I wish I could live in (insert historical period they have a hard-on for here)”. I want to laugh at them and say, “Have fun getting lockjaw from a shaving cut, you daffy bitch.” Usually I just settle for a smirk and a change of subject.

But some aspects of history actually do resonate with me; for example, the concept of duels.

Quick anecdote; once, I got into a heated argument with someone I know. (I don’t call this person a “friend”, for many reasons.) At the height of said argument, I ordered him out of my house. When he refused, and remained standing in my kitchen, I uttered the following words…

“Get out of my house or I’ll fucking kill you.”

At that moment, everything stopped. He, and everyone else in the room, stared at me. From the expressions on their faces, you’d think I’d announced my intention to fornicate with a dead goat. I stopped too; after all, suddenly I’d gone from aggrieved party to crazy man. I hadn’t even yelled the phrase; it had been a simple (if heated) declaration of the facts at hand. Hell, I was casting about for some kind of lethal implement to do the bastard in with before I noticed all the social awkwardness around me. For an instant, I actually felt guilty and ashamed. Before the incident could progress to mayhem, the individual left. Everyone, even my wife at the time, gave me the cross-eyed look one reserves for psychotics and mumbling bus station lunatics, and I knew I’d crossed a social line.

It got me to thinking; why was what I had done so terrible? Was this not my house? I paid for it, did the upkeep, held the deed. Why should some self-centered jerk-off have the right to stand in my property against my wishes? And most importantly, why should a call to the authorities be my only recourse? Why was it such a taboo to resort to lethality to protect my interests?

It got me to considering other things; why was violence in the defense of one’s principles such a bad thing? When did a man (or woman) lose the right to uphold his beliefs with applied force? When did we become such a cowardly race, dependent upon a certain class of people (police, military) to do our killing for us?

It wasn’t always so. As recently as a century ago (give or take a decade), a man had the right to “call out” someone who had offended him in word or deed; he could challenge the individual to a lethal contest (using swords, pistols, or some other portable instrument of death) and the matter would be decided there and then. No police, no courts, no litigation, just two parties settling their grievances in a quick, direct fashion. As recently as a few decades ago, it was acceptable for two people to “take it outside” and address their philosophical disagreement with fists and feet. As recently as my own childhood, it was kosher for children on the playground to do the same without too much trouble.

Unfortunately, all that has gone by the wayside. Even threatening violence (no matter what the provocation) is a crime; I have even seen newspaper articles describing grade-schoolers taken to court for schoolyard brawls. I see people filing lawsuits over drunken insults made in bars. I think all this is a terrible travesty. I think it makes us into a bunch of fucking sissies.

Now, I know some of you are probably shaking your heads at my naïveté. I’m sure a few of you are probably horrified at my willingness to end another’s life simply because he refused to leave my home. Before your moral outrage takes firm root, let me explain why I feel I know what I’m talking about.

I work as a bouncer. In that occupation, I am at the forefront of human miscommunication. I have seen a lot of potential violence in the line of duty (seeing as it is my job to prevent it). I have so far managed to defuse all situations I’ve been placed in with simple words; I’ve never had to slug anyone, or wrestle anyone out the door. But I see the kinds of people that start shit in bars, and I think to myself; these dickwads could use a good ass-beating.

While most people who try to pick fights in a bar are (let’s face it) stupid, they aren’t universally so. They know that the person who initiates combat is the one held legally responsible for it. So, they try to cause the other party to be the aggressor, secure in the knowledge that if they manage that feat, they can have a fight without too much legal trouble. These people try such behavior with me, quite often. They yell, hurl insults, spit on me, shove me and generally try to get my goat. I don’t rise to the bait, but it’s a tooth-grinding exercise in patience.

That is why I miss the days of dueling. Despite all the problems it caused (e.g. people getting killed over stupid shit, manufactured conflicts to get rid of political enemies, bullying, etc.), the specter of a lethal or painful response to asinine behavior did have a singular consequence.

It made people a hell of a lot more polite and respectful.

Think about it; if broken bones and splintered teeth were the consequences for shooting your mouth off, you’d keep a civil tongue in your head. If a man could shank you for calling him a liar (without suffering jail time), you wouldn’t do it unless it really mattered. If a woman could legally punt your man-jewels into your sinus cavity for grabbing her ass, you’d keep your hands to yourself. And if someone could shoot you dead for remaining in his house one instant longer than he desired you to, you would leave right fucking quick when ordered.

For my part, I don’t often threaten violence. A lot of people like to do it over trivial matters but I do not. Mortal combat makes for a big hammer, but I don’t see too many nails in my path. I save force or the threat of it only for those principles which matter to me most; my life, the lives of my family and friends, the sanctity of my home and the honor of my word.

Maybe we can’t go back to the age of pistols at dawn, but it would be nice if the concept of spilling or shedding blood over deeply-held beliefs wasn’t anathema to our societal values. I believe that the ability of a person to defend themselves with force would create a new level of maturity and social responsibility. It would certainly toughen us all up and get us in shape (or cause those who are too lazy to do so to keep their mouths firmly shut). A whole class of asshole, the trash-talking gasbag, would disappear overnight. I love that image, but I’m fairly sure it is never going to come about.

I’m sure that many of you believe this to be a flight of ill-conceived, alcohol-induced fancy. I’m equally worried that some asshole is going to test me on this one day, just to see if I’m serious. If you are that asshole, I caution you that this is NOT the case. I am in the process of securing my right to bear arms; I live in a state with concealed carry laws. I’m not an easy person to provoke but it can and will happen eventually, if someone is really serious about it. So if you track me down for the purpose of starting some shit just to see if I really mean all this, be aware that you may well hear the phrase, “On your mark, sir” cross my lips.

At that point, you’d best draw, or run. Because I will demand satisfaction.