Neanderpundit

After having determined that I cannot shoot my beloved Remington 241 offhand worth a damn, and unwilling to accept that it could be my fault, I headed off to the range on Sunday to see if I could improve my aim.

I had most of the imaginable types of ammo available, CCI green tag, Remington target, Federal premier, and PMC. All of it got measured against my benchmark, Remington Golden Bullets. The remingtons are cheap, shoot well, and feed reliably in everything I’ve got to shoot them. I just wanted to see if it was me, or the ammo.

It is me. I got exactly the same results, statistically, with each type of ammo, and frankly, it means that for my purposes, there’s never any point in buying the expensive stuff except for the high end benchrest match rifles, and even that is questionable.

I even pulled the barrel off the other 241 (yes, I have two) and shot it for a while, it made no difference. I so wanted to be a great shot with this rifle, and I’m just not. Again, all the niceness in the world means nothing when you can’t
hit what you’re aiming at.

OK, so I confess.

No, no I didn’t garrote the Roads commissioner in Indiana as I had fantasized about, nothing that fun.

Mostly, my confession is about this:

See, I bought this nearly a year ago. I love the rifle, it’s sweet as can be. it’s a Remington 241, A Speedmaster automatic. I absolutely love the way it looks and handles.

I just can’t shoot it worth a damn.

Oh, it’s clean and the bore is bright; with a sandbag I can make 1/2″ groups at 50 yards all day. It’s not the rifle, it’s me.

I shot and shot and shot, and I could not even put holes in the black of an A-36 to save my life, at 50 feet.

So I hadda pull this out.

I managed to get this rifle to do things I could never get the Remington to do, and it flatly pisses me off.

See, it’s not about how nice a rifle is, how much it costs, what the reviews said. it’s about how well you can get the bullet to go where you want it to go.

The Cugir training rifle is a damned nice rifle, if crudely finished; it shoots straight, and has an unusual drop to the stock, which fits my shoulder nicely- I begin to understand what Kim Gun Guy sees in those “hogback” rifles from BRNO.

Anyway, instead of being able to say I shot those postal match targets with my very nice Remington 241, I have to say I used a $59 romanian training rifle.

Keep them in the X ring, folks.

A democrat enters a convention hall.
Democrat:’Ello, I wish to register a complaint.
(The Democratic National Convention does not respond.)
Democrat:’Ello, Miss?
DNC:What do you mean “miss”?
Democrat:I’m sorry, I have a cold. I wish to make a complaint!
DNC:We’re closin’ for lunch.
Democrat:Never mind that, my lad. I wish to complain about this candidate what I elected not a month ago from this very organization.
DNC:Oh yes, the, uh, the cambodian liar…What’s,uh…What’s wrong with it?
Democrat:I’ll tell you what’s wrong with it, my lad. ‘E’s dead, that’s what’s wrong with it!
DNC:No, no, ‘e’s uh,…he’s resting.
Democrat:Look, matey, I know a dead liar when I see one, and I’m looking at one right now.
DNC:No no he’s not dead, he’s, he’s restin’! Remarkable bird, the cambodian liar, idn’it, ay? Beautiful purple hearts!!
Democrat:The Purple hearts don’t enter into it. It’s stone dead.
DNC:Nononono, no, no! ‘E’s resting!
Democrat:All right then, if he’s restin’, I’ll wake him up! (shouting at the cage) ‘Ello, Mister candidate!! I’ve got a lovely fresh crockumentary from The Fatass from Flint for you if you show…
(DNC hits the cage)
DNC:There, he moved!
Democrat:No, he didn’t, that was you hitting the cage!
DNC:I never!!
Democrat:Yes, you did!
DNC:I never, never did anything…
Democrat:(yelling and hitting the cage repeatedly) ‘ELLO KERRY!!!!! Testing! Testing! Testing! Testing! This is your nine o’clock alarm call!
(Takes candidate out of the cage and thumps its head on the counter. Throws it up in the air and watches it plummet to the floor.)
Democrat:Now that’s what I call a dead candidate.
DNC:No, no…..No, ‘e’s stunned!
Democrat:STUNNED?!?
DNC:Yeah! You stunned him, just as he was wakin’ up! cambodian liars stun easily, major.
Democrat:Um…now look…now look, mate, I’ve definitely ‘ad enough of this. That candidate is definitely deceased, and when I elected it not a month
ago, you assured me that its total lack of movement was due to it bein’ tired and shagged out following a prolonged squawk.
DNC:Well, he’s…he’s, ah…probably pining for cambodia.
Democrat:PININ’ for CAMBODIA?!?!?!? What kind of talk is that?, look, why did he fall flat on his back the moment I got ‘im home?
DNC:The Cambodian Liar prefers kippin’ on it’s back! Remarkable candidate, id’nit, squire? Lovely purple hearts!
Democrat:Look, I took the liberty of examining that candidate when I got it home, and I discovered the only reason that it had been standing at it’s podium in the first place was that it had been NAILED there.
(pause)
DNC:Well, o’course it was nailed there! If I hadn’t nailed that candidate down, it would have nuzzled up to those bars, bent ’em apart with its beak, and
VOOM! Feeweeweewee!
Democrat:”VOOM”?!? Mate, this liar wouldn’t “voom” if you put four million volts through it! ‘E’s bleedin’ demised!
DNC:No no! ‘E’s pining!
Democrat:’E’s not pinin’! ‘E’s passed on! This candidate is no more! He has ceased to be! ‘E’s expired and gone to meet ‘is maker! ‘E’s a stiff! Bereft of truth, ‘e deceives in peace! If you hadn’t nailed ‘im to the podium, ‘e’d be pushing up the daisies! ‘Is metabolic processes are now ‘istory! ‘E’s off the twig! ‘E’s kicked the bucket, ‘e’s shuffled off ‘is mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the bleedin’ choir invisibile!! THIS IS AN EX-CANDIDATE!!
(pause)
DNC:Well, I’d better replace it, then. (he takes a quick peek behind the counter) Sorry squire, I’ve had a look ’round the back of the shop, and uh,
we’re right out of Cambodian Liars.
Democrat:I see. I see, I get the picture.
DNC:I got a Screaming Dean.
(pause)
Democrat:Pray, does it talk?
DNC:Nnnnot really.
Democrat:WELL IT’S HARDLY A BLOODY REPLACEMENT, IS IT?!!???!!?
DNC:N-no, I guess not. (gets ashamed, looks at his feet)
Democrat:Well.
(pause)
DNC:(quietly) D’you…. d’you want to give mikey more a handjob?
Democrat:(looks around) Yeah, all right, sure.