In Defense of Open Carry at the GOP Convention

To Whom It May Concern:

I am an American citizen and Republican primary voter planning to attend my National Convention in Cleveland this July. As a citizen, I am blessed with inalienable rights provided to me by our Constitution. The Second Amendment states that the right "of the people to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed." As a people, and with the security of a free and sovereign state in mind, I order Quicken Loans Arena to allow for open carry at our convention, knowing full well I will die in the middle of it.

As a future victim, I have a deep and abiding respect for the state of Ohio. The Buckeye State allows for open carry of weaponry in a proud, shiny show of democratic power. The government, widely known for being stupid in any way, shape, and form, has been progressive on this important issue. But I have seen dark forces stymie my Ohioan friends who would seek only to discharge a firearm in a moving vehicle or possess a firearm in an establishment serving intoxicants. In the first case, I enjoy the game of drive-biathalon, and in the second case, it is vitally important I open a can of Coors Light in the most effective way possible. So to take it a step beyond that and to outlaw Freedom Defenders™ is a terrible mistake, one I will pay for with my life trying unsuccessfully to fix. I will probably do this outside the Reserve Tattoo three blocks from the arena, late at night.

The Cavaliers play there. They are pirates. You wouldn't tell a pirate "no guns." You'd give the pirates a gun and they'd shoot each other over some very petty argument about very small amounts of money. This is what I want. I am a freedom pirate, and I will die to prove my point.

Liberal "Want To Lives" in Cleveland are putting me and my brethren at great risk by taking risk out of the hands of me and my brethren. As we all know, gun owners are heavily predisposed to being heroes, be it defending their homes against nightly arrivals of burglar/rapist/murderers; or defending their Little Leagues and lines for buses from Wahabist terrorism; or defending themselves by wagging a Luger in the face of a child at a nearby McDonald's during a debate over what time the PlayPlace closes and whether an adult must be present to use that PlayPlace and whether that means an adult can, in fact, use the slide, then get caught in the slide, and then blast an escape hole through the side of that slide before falling six feet to the turf-covered concrete just outside the ball pit.

My point is, I will die a stupid death in the streets of Cleveland. It will be my own fault, and you can't stop me.

The "gun-free zone" enforced by the Cleveland Reichstag puts too many citizens at risk. A mentally ill person could fire at will. And since a mentally ill person is a responsible gun owner who becomes mentally ill the second he or he fires a weapon, who's to stop a mentally ill person from slaughtering a group of defenseless delegates?

Seriously, who? Private security at the arena? Private security around the arena? The candidates' own Secret Service protection? Local police? State police? The National Guard? The FBI? A group of citizens who can tackle a shooter? Any other group of people professionally trained to handle said scenario? As you can see, there are no other options. Better for me to have a bang-bang toy for urban cowboy yee-hawing. It's the mature argument, and my estate will thank you.

Allowing access to weaponry is the quickest way I can martyr myself in the cause of narcissism. Frankly, the state of Ohio should actually provide weapons, but not at taxpayers' expense. I believe it was Thomas Jefferson who in my imagination once said, "A large mass of politically opposed, volatile, negative-behaviorally motivated visitors entering a racially segregated liberal metropolitan area must have a weapon each." His words.

And when I am taking my last breath just a few hundred feet from a We Fry Any Food stand, I'll look back in pride on my struggle, knowing full well that I helped stop the bad guys by being one myself, having no conflict resolution skills, and taking a slug from a shadowy man that honestly probably was John Kasich in a trench coat.


A Dead Fool, and a Great American

Written by Sean Sullivan. This post originally appeared on