yesterday while Brandon napped on top of me, I watched that Pumping Iron documentary about how Arnold Schwarzenegger (I can’t spell “Schwarzenegger” but I live in a country where Schwarzenegger is already uploaded into Word spell-check) was training to defend his Mr. Universe title.
Let me tell you something crucial about me:
I was raised on Arnold movies so I am a SUCKER for almost all things Arnold, particularly anything he was in from 84′ to 94′. That 10-year span was, in academic terms: the most metal era in cinematic history, never to be re-created again.
Terminator, Terminator 2, Predator, Commando, Total Recall, Twins, Red Heat, The Running Man, True Lies, Kindergarten Cop…. you get the point.
And thanks to Arnold movies, I discovered the colorful spectrum of ways men could be creatively killed for my child-age blood lust. It also unearthed a bottomless well of questions about all the cartoonish ways a man can be killed. Do your eyes really squeeze out of your head if your helmet comes off in space? Can you actually snap a person’s neck that easily? Can you really harpoon a man with a giant hollow pipe? With your bare hands? If you threw a table saw blade really hard at a guy would it really take a chunk of his head off? Why do you instantly die if you get thrown down a flight of stairs? If two big dogs were charging at you side-by-side, and jumped at you at the same time, could you really clunk their heads together? Liquid nitrogen is a THING that EXISTS? Can you really use a person’s body like a shield so you wont get shot? If you shot a guy in the chest, would he just instantly die?
And speaking of getting shot, it wasn’t until decades later when I was learning how to handle my husband’s handgun at the range, that I realized how wildly misinformed I was about basic handgun mechanics. And I place the blame squarely on Arnold.
Here’s what I discovered:
I am waaaaay more noodle-armed than I thought. And the noodle-armed should never hold a gun with one hand. Or sideways. Or upside down. I DON’T KNOW, however the cool kids are holding their guns nowadays. An improper hold pretty much guarantees you’re not going to hit your moving target: a morally bankrupt henchman, or the final bad guy now that you’ve reached the end of the movie. The kick back alone would make the gun fly out of your hand.
And, oh yeah, guns “kick back”. You have to have retard-strength level of grip in your hands when firing a gun, otherwise that bad boy is going to kick back HARD, and you MIGHT bash yourself in the face.
And did you know the shells that case the bullets get flaming hot when ejected from the gun as you fire? Did you know these hot bastards could ricochet off the nearest wall and tumble hilariously down the front of your shirt and get trapped in your bra? Did I mention they are as hot as the sun and will leave burn marks on your skin?
And, were you aware that guns are loud as HELL? I don’t posses the vocabulary to accurately describe how awesomely LOUD guns truly are. The general public thinks of guns as “air horn” loud, or maybe “police siren” loud. In reality, it’s more like “standing in the wake of a jet plane” loud, but condensed into a split second. I grew up on the west side, and dammit, I am no stranger to the sound of gunfire. But said gun fire was always heard from a distance, such as: from the end of the block while standing in within the confines of my house. Standing next to a firing gun is a whole ‘nother level of experiencing the sonic-goddamn-BOOM they emit. There is no way to look cool and talk shit to the guy you just shot while your ears are bleeding.
Also, has anyone told you that there is no need to cock your gun? Wanton cocking of the gun is not only unnecessary but also bad for the gun. Wanton gun cocking makes YOU look like a huge tool, but when Arnold does it, it’s a punctuation to a timeless one-liner.
Consider that a divorce CLACK-CLACK!
See you at the party Richter CLACK-CLACK!
It’s not a tumor CLACK-CLACK!
And proper aiming is the exact opposite of effortless, it actually takes A TON OF PATIENCE AND SKILL. My gun held 12 bullets, but I only counted 9 holes in that target practice sheet they give you at the range. The sheet couldn’t have been more than 6 feet away, directly in front of me, and was not moving. Yet, I still managed to miss my target an entire 25% of the time. And I can forget about head shots. I’d be one of those broads that got eaten if this was the Walking Dead. Though slow and lumbering, zombies are notoriously bad at holding still while you aim your gun at their face. All these cold facts about REAL gun handling totally suck the sexiness out of guns and are some bullshit.