1st Time Carrying. Practicing in Public.

Superman and I have that in common, neither of us holds any fear toward the chamber of a gun. I've already accepted that my life would end by gunfire. Right now, someone is walking around with a bullet that has my name on it.
 
Not necessarily.
Nothing is "necessarily". You have no point.

By quoting only part of my response, YOU have no point. Here is the full quote:

Not necessarily. A bad shot doesn't suddenly become a good shot because you rendered medical aid to the person you shot. The opposite may actually happen.

The primary reason for emergency medical training and equipment is to provide immediate help for yourself, your family and any other victims to keep you and others in the fight and to bridge the gap until professional medical aid is available.

TroutKing's post #16 explains it pretty well:

No, it will not. Call 911, secure the scene from outsiders, remain aware, do not approach the downed perp. You shot him for a reason. It's that reason that will convict you or keep you free, not rendering first-aid. 35 years as a prosecutor and criminal defense attorney tells me to stay away. Consider your actions AFTER the shooting are subject to a civil suit unrelated to the actual incident. If you try to render first aid and actually further harm the perp you're getting sued even in states the block civil actions when there's no conviction. Rendering first-aid is a second incident. It is separate from the shooting incident.
 
Don't do anything special, don't fall for the "wal-mart walk" nonsense.

When you get your permit, you merely have one more thing to put on before your leave the house. Do that and go about your day as if you didn't have a gun on your person.

You must not have read the OP. The poster said he's in his 65th day of waiting for his permit and has already walked into a store with his empty holster on to get a feel for how it was going to feel. He felt uncomfortable and self conscious doing that. I agree he might as well wait till he has his permit and can carry a gun in the holster, but if carrying an empty holster makes him feel uncomfortable the first time he'll probably feel the same way the first couple times he carries a gun and interacts with others.

I was simply sympathizing and explaining that I too felt uncomfortable the first few times I went out and into stores carrying my gun.

When you first carried in public your gun might have felt like your socks, but the OP'er is obviously more self conscious than you about doing something he's never done before. It's not much different than driving or sky diving or getting on a stage and singing for the first time.
 
You must not have read the OP. The poster said he's in his 65th day of waiting for his permit and has already walked into a store with his empty holster on to get a feel for how it was going to feel. He felt uncomfortable and self conscious doing that. I agree he might as well wait till he has his permit and can carry a gun in the holster, but if carrying an empty holster makes him feel uncomfortable the first time he'll probably feel the same way the first couple times he carries a gun and interacts with others.

I was simply sympathizing and explaining that I too felt uncomfortable the first few times I went out and into stores carrying my gun.

When you first carried in public your gun might have felt like your socks, but the OP'er is obviously more self conscious than you about doing something he's never done before. It's not much different than driving or sky diving or getting on a stage and singing for the first time.

Yep, I read the OP, and my advise still stands.

I wore my gun around the house while waiting on mine, to learn how to adjust everything, and exactly where I wanted to carry, and play with the holster cant, and which shirts just didn't work.

When I got my permit, I changed nothing I had planed for the day, went about my business as if my permit hadn't come yet, except I now had my gun on me. Yes, I was very aware that I was armed in public during the first week or so. Now it is just part of my normal pat down as I leave the house, wallet, check - keys, check - phone, check - money clip, check - gun, check.
 
Quoting only the portion being responded to is very common and normal posting behavior. You tried to use a dismissal tactic. You failed.

If that quoted portion doesn't make sense without the rest of the quote, then it is taken out of its context.

Yes, I was dismissive. For a good reason, which is explained by the part that you didn't quote. You completely left out the point I made in your response. YOU failed.

How about a counter argument to my original response?
 
Superman and I have that in common, neither of us holds any fear toward the chamber of a gun. I've already accepted that my life would end by gunfire. Right now, someone is walking around with a bullet that has my name on it.
Anyone else believe every ass-01e should be armed? This guy has a screw loose no matter how you cut it.
 
Anyone else believe every ass-01e should be armed? This guy has a screw loose no matter how you cut it.

Go back to Hilary's village if you're so against the 2nd amendment. "Screw loose" yeah right. I'm a living example of why everyone should have a gun. Strap one on, go out into the streets, and make your own legend.
 
Go back to Hilary's village if you're so against the 2nd amendment. "Screw loose" yeah right. I'm a living example of why everyone should have a gun. Strap one on, go out into the streets, and make your own legend.
You're a living example of the failed mental health system in America. You're a living example of why the left is SCREAMING for gun control.
 
You're a living example of the failed mental health system in America. You're a living example of why the left is SCREAMING for gun control.

I'm no fan of internet tough-guy posturing either, but you or I know nothing of Dog's mental health status, and you claiming you do, and then claiming that his postings have anything in the world to do with leftist calls for gun control based on your conjectured-out-of-thin-air "diagnosis," is at least as ridiculous as anything he's posted.
 
Go back to Hilary's village if you're so against the 2nd amendment. "Screw loose" yeah right. I'm a living example of why everyone should have a gun. Strap one on, go out into the streets, and make your own legend.

I've got bad news for you - keeping the insane and just plain too stupid from owning firearm is not against the second amendment.

All you are is living proof that the age-18 restriction in the terms of service for this forum is not working.
 
I'm no fan of internet tough-guy posturing either, but you or I know nothing of Dog's mental health status, and you claiming you do, and then claiming that his postings have anything in the world to do with leftist calls for gun control based on your conjectured-out-of-thin-air "diagnosis," is at least as ridiculous as anything he's posted.
If you think he's normal then lend him your gun. Based on a small number of posts I think he's crazy as a junkyard dog. Very bizarre posts about going down in a hail of bullets. Handled a lot of crazies over the past 30 years in criminal courts. Normal people don't make such statements.
 
I'm no fan of internet tough-guy posturing either, but you or I know nothing of Dog's mental health status, and you claiming you do, and then claiming that his postings have anything in the world to do with leftist calls for gun control based on your conjectured-out-of-thin-air "diagnosis," is at least as ridiculous as anything he's posted.

You walk up on a snarling snapping strange acting dog, just another cute little puppy, right?

That boys posts speaks volumes of how unstable he is.....
 
Well I'm on a discouraging day 82 in the wait for the mail to deliver any kind of news on my application. The thread got a little wild, though.
 
If you think he's normal then lend him your gun. Based on a small number of posts I think he's crazy as a junkyard dog. Very bizarre posts about going down in a hail of bullets. Handled a lot of crazies over the past 30 years in criminal courts. Normal people don't make such statements.

I'm not "normal"? You've got that right, great men never are. As for being as "crazy as a junkyard dog," you are once again correct. I'm crazy about giving dirtbags their well deserved dirt nap. In fact let me tell you what happened last night.

While out on my patrol, I heard a woman scream. She screamed for God to help her, he wasn't listening but I was.

It was night and as I approached I must have stepped in front of an overly, bright streetlamp because I cast a long, dark shadow. It fell on three punks as they stood over a woman cowering on the ground. They had taken her purse, but it looked as though they also had their eyes on taking her chastity as well. As my shadow fell on them, they become still and silent for a moment. You could almost hear a pin drop. Eventually one of the punks gathered his courage and spoke.

"Who the **** are you," he said, with his tough guy posturing.

I remained silent for a moment, almost ignoring him. My black, duster coat began stir in the night air.

"That depends on you," I said, my voice steady, even, but unmistakable "Let the woman go, return her purse, and I'll just be stranger in the night. Continue on this course of action and I'll be your executioner."

"Kill him," shouted the same punk who spoke moments earlier.

Muscles, taunt and trained, forced my body into action. Leaping through the air, I drew my pistols. The punks had gone for their guns but they were too slow. White doves flew past me as my pistols spat out flame and smoke and death. In the blink of and eye two dirtbags dropped to the ground their souls, no doubt, beginning to become intimately acquainted with the devil.

The third punk fired a wild shotgun blast, but got lucky and caught me square in the chest. I collapsed onto the ground, becoming still. As he approached I held my breathe and shut my eyes, playing opossum. As he wracked another shell into the chamber of his pump-action, I leapt up and emptied my pistols into him. He fell backwards and joined his comrades in Hell.

I unbuttoned my shirt and made sure the kevlar vest caught every pellet. Thankfully it did. By this time the woman regained her composure.

"Who are you," she asked.

"It doesn't matter," I replied "What matters is that you should get home."

I then ran off into the night. Looking for another scream, another gunshot, another dirtbag.
 
You had and still have no point in your replies to my posts.
Of course I do. Nothing is "necessarily", that goes without saying. Render first aid and you might still loose the case. You waste your time by pointing it out. Everyone already knows that nothing is certan.
 
Of course I do. Nothing is "necessarily", that goes without saying. Render first aid and you might still loose the case. You waste your time by pointing it out. Everyone already knows that nothing is certan.

How about that? You came up with a coherent response.

The point of the discussion was that shooting someone in self defense and rendering first aid to the shot person are legally two separate incidents. How can rendering first aid to the shot person help you in court at all? That is the question. Rendering first aid does not undo a bad shot. Any manslaughter or murder charge is based on what you did before the shooting and not what you did afterwards, assuming that you did't commit further crimes afterwards. The only way it could help is with the sentencing, as a mitigating factor.

Note that not rendering first aid to the person you shot in self defense is legally justifiable as you were in fear of your life or serious bodily harm. The only thing you know after the shooting is that the person is currently not attacking you. That may change when you render first aid to that person. You are likely putting yourself in danger by rendering first aid. During the investigation, you will be asked about that: "If you were in fear of your life, why did you then immediately went up to the victim and applied a tourniquet and pressure dressing? The victim could have had a knife and killed you. It seems to me that you immediately realized that you were in the wrong and tried to fix this."

If in doubt, ask your lawyer.
 
I'm not "normal"? You've got that right, great men never are. As for being as "crazy as a junkyard dog," you are once again correct. I'm crazy about giving dirtbags their well deserved dirt nap. In fact let me tell you what happened last night.

While out on my patrol, I heard a woman scream. She screamed for God to help her, he wasn't listening but I was.

It was night and as I approached I must have stepped in front of an overly, bright streetlamp because I cast a long, dark shadow. It fell on three punks as they stood over a woman cowering on the ground. They had taken her purse, but it looked as though they also had their eyes on taking her chastity as well. As my shadow fell on them, they become still and silent for a moment. You could almost hear a pin drop. Eventually one of the punks gathered his courage and spoke.

"Who the **** are you," he said, with his tough guy posturing.

I remained silent for a moment, almost ignoring him. My black, duster coat began stir in the night air.

"That depends on you," I said, my voice steady, even, but unmistakable "Let the woman go, return her purse, and I'll just be stranger in the night. Continue on this course of action and I'll be your executioner."

"Kill him," shouted the same punk who spoke moments earlier.

Muscles, taunt and trained, forced my body into action. Leaping through the air, I drew my pistols. The punks had gone for their guns but they were too slow. White doves flew past me as my pistols spat out flame and smoke and death. In the blink of and eye two dirtbags dropped to the ground their souls, no doubt, beginning to become intimately acquainted with the devil.

The third punk fired a wild shotgun blast, but got lucky and caught me square in the chest. I collapsed onto the ground, becoming still. As he approached I held my breathe and shut my eyes, playing opossum. As he wracked another shell into the chamber of his pump-action, I leapt up and emptied my pistols into him. He fell backwards and joined his comrades in Hell.

I unbuttoned my shirt and made sure the kevlar vest caught every pellet. Thankfully it did. By this time the woman regained her composure.

"Who are you," she asked.

"It doesn't matter," I replied "What matters is that you should get home."

I then ran off into the night. Looking for another scream, another gunshot, another dirtbag.
The guy thinks he's a superhero. :jester:
 

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