Volume 20, Issue 3
Floridanese man Charles Adams was delighted to find that he would be studying Constitutional Law in his second semester at Melbourne Law School.
His tutor, Dr Sven Stevekson, did not disappoint. The scholar’s enthusiasm for the subject glowed like fire. It quickly became clear that just like back home in the US, Australia’s legal system bound down tyranny through the chains of the Constitution.
Democracy. Liberty. Freedom. Such words were etched into the very foundation of Australian law. Charles knew that he had made the right choice when he decided to study his JD Down Under; the land was free, and home to the brave.
But there was just one problem. Charles could not seem to find the part about a well regulated militia and the right of the people to bear arms.
This was an issue, because like any patriot, Charles knew that without a Second Amendment his Australian classmates were easy prey to be stripped of their rights.
He felt his spine go cold as he flipped through his pocket edition of the Australian Constitution – surely, this could not be. But the words could not be found.
He approached his tutor after class, sure that he had made some sort of mistake interpreting the text.
But no. To his horror, Sven confirmed that after a tragic mass shooting in a place called Port Arthur many years ago, the Australian government had made the decision to strip citizens of their God-given right to own metal tubes capable of shooting down helicopters.
“How could they do this!” Charles demanded.
“It’s outrageous. It’s unfair,” he added when Sven only raised his eyebrows.
His tutor just shrugged in reply.
“I don’t know Charles. I suppose we like to be able to roam around outside our homes without fear of being gunned down by a complete stranger. Back in my uni days I worked at a cinema, mind you. I’m not sure how I’d have felt knowing a white male who’d spent too many hours on the dark web could just stroll in at any moment and open fire on the crowd for no reason. Probably not very good.”
Sven did not seem to notice Charles quietly seething. As he packed up his books, the tutor said, “we have, however, seen a spike in sternly written letters. I guess this is just how some folk vent their frustration when their supermarkets don’t sell hunting rifles.”
Red in the face but doing his best to maintain composure, Charles waited for Sven to leave the room. “Sitting ducks,” he whispered.
Submitted by ‘please don’t sue me NRA’
The views in this article do not necessarily reflect the views of De Minimis or its Editors.