Don't worry. The idea throws some people for a loop. But there's a logic to it. Syd Field famously said all drama is conflict. And "show, don't tell," is the most-cited rule one of filmmaking. Which means sooner or later, an actor is going to be performing a physical conflict. And the number one interpersonal weapon of our time is the handgun.

(Do handguns come out in every conflict? No. But if you look at what crops up again and again, pistols are in the top three along with hand-to-hand and improvised weapons.)

Effectively, shooting's as essential a skill to an actor today as skill with a rapier was to Shakespeare. We're in the middle of a more or less equivalent era.

And now there's some wondering how I got to that conclusion. Let me elucidate.

Shakespeare lived during the rise of the rapier, a weapon that's lousy on a battlefield but proved handy for civilian use. The design also made it easy to customize for those who liked to flaunt their wealth and style. And while any gentleman could (and many did) take the time to use it, there were a number of (usually younger and hot-tempered) men who practiced as often as their lifestyles would let them.

At the same time, a number of masters popped up, establishing schools and writing manuals. Agrippa and Morozzo already had manuals published by the start of Shakespeare's career. George Silver, Fabris, Di Grassi, and Capo Ferro were all published by the time Shakespeare had penned his last play.

What this meant was that every year, more and more members of Shakespeare's audience were educated about rapier combat: how it worked, what was possible, what was likely, and what was preposterous. He and his actors needed to know their stuff or pay for it at the box office (or in flying tomatoes).

Fast forward to today, where the handgun (a weapon of extremely limited use on the battlefield) is being owned and carried by more average Americans every day, in a trend that's been lasting 30 years or more. In 1986, 16 states banned ordinary citizens from carrying concealed weapons. By the turn of the millennium there were only seven. The last holdouts (Illinois and D.C.) had their laws struck down by Supreme court decisions in 2013. Today there's an estimated 12 million concealed license holders all across the country.

An entire cottage industry follows the customization and decoration of these weapons, from the commercial to the gaudy to the beautiful.   

And since the 1960's the practice of handgunnery has evolved from a training system for police officers into a martial art. Masters like the late Jeff Cooper, Mossad Ayoob, and Don Mann are writing books and teaching classes across the country. Different schools of thought and techniques are cropping up all the time. My own gun classes for actors evolve about every six months nowadays.

In other words, safety and aesthetics aside, it's getting harder and harder for an audience to suspend disbelief in an untrained gun-toting actor. So if you're going to tread the boards, you might want to get in some range time too.

There is a trend throughout my profession that few know about. If I've mentioned it, it's only been in passing. And I don't think I've ever written how much it's disturbed me.

There's a trend, surprising as it may be, is a refusal to refer to weapons as weapons. Typically, this is a reaction to post-columbine academia, which shits its tweed trousers at the thought of weaponry on campus. Insisting on terms like "theatrical props" or "sports equipment," is a levee against the storm of bullshit for drama departments, fencing teams, and the like to take what refuge they can in.

(The fact that establishing schools as weapon-free zones has been a miserable, blood-soaked failure is another matter. Campus carry becomes a fact of life in more states every year, and progress in that arena continues. But it is only tangential to the matter at hand.)

I can understand the need to placate the huge bureaucracies that control your fate. I know that a humanities discipline can ill-afford to rock the already-shaky ivory tower. And no fencing team wants to share the sad off-campus fate of NSDU's team.

But in the long run (15 years since Columbine, as I write this), this irritating fiction does more harm than I think anyone realizes.

For one thing, it kills credibility. It is impossible to hold up a sword, with a straight face say, "it's a prop, not a weapon," and not look like a godsdamn tool to anyone who's been remotely near a scrum. Worse if it comes from the lips of an instructor. Because now not only have they been stupid enough to say it, they're someone in authority with enough stupidity to say so. Even if an operator is willing to give benefit of doubt (and most will throw said individual right into the mental "fuck this idiot" pile), they'll be distracted for the rest of the session. Their attention will be split between following the lesson and watching the instructor like a hawk, ready for the next asinine thing to come out of their mouth.

For another, it shows a lack of respect for the weapon. Refusing to call a spade a spade encourages one to treat it like something else. In a world where a news commentator throws an axe, misses his target and hits a drummer, we need MORE respect for a weapon, not less.

Yes, weapons inspire fear in those unfamiliar. Familiarity should transform that fear into respect, not unthinking complacency. Such thinking is exactly what leads to "justs." It was "just" a bread knife that went 4 inches into an actor's torso in Tuscon, AZ. It was "just" a throwing axe that fortunately didn't seriously injure a West Point drummer.

On yet another level, it's just dishonest. When I began selling knives, I've been asked why I didn't use this payment service or that retail service, and my answer would take them aback. "They don't allow weapons dealers to use them," I'd say. To which they would be dumbfounded, saying, "But you just make training/prop/theatrical knives."

As if that makes them any less knives. This fundamental dishonesty rankles me.

(I'd like to point out now to all my gentle readers, the ridiculously easy segue into American weapon politics this could lead to. I'm not gonna go there, 'cause it's a whole 'nother kettle of fish. But I easily could go there.

Be grateful for that, motherfuckers.)

Lastly, it lets us hide from the nature of our stories. Drawing a "theatrical prop" with a dramatic flair and all thoughts on spectacle ignores the fact that thousands died on the point of that "prop." In doing so we do no justice to our stories, nor those whose lives they were based on.

Am I saying that every story told with these weapons should be as grim as a drill instructor at a funeral? No. Not at all. And the fact that we're somehow conditioned to expect that is part of the problem. Taking up arms does not confine or relieve someone of the human condition. On the contrary, it brings that condition into a new level of vivid detail. One lost if those extensions of their bodies and will, their weapons, become just another prop to put on the table and have ready.   

Hi, Kids! Say hello to the Look-Alike Weapons Safety Act of 2013.

What does it do?

- Current commerce code says that imitation guns sold in the U.S. have to be either completely made of bright-colored material or have a bright orange plug in the muzzle. This Act changes the law to only allow imitation guns with their entire body brightly colored.

Um, Why?

Ostensibly the law is a reaction to the deaths of Tamir Rice and John Crawford. Both were holding realistic airsoft imitation guns when they were shot and killed by police in 2014. The idea being that easily removed or covered orange tips are no longer a viable safety measure in helping police identify a fake from a real gun.

Will it work?

Without getting into a pages-long lecture about the factors that play in a shoot/don't shoot scenario, the short answer is "pretty unlikely."

What are the side effects?

The airsoft sport will suffer, as realistic weapons are a big part of the sport's appeal. Certain reenactors (WWII in particular) will find their supply of weapons drying up overnight, as will the entertainment industry.

What if I just buy some of these bright orange ones and paint them black?

Depends on whose lawyar interperets the commerce code. On the one hand, if they're yours, then you're not buying, selling, or transporting over state lines, you might be good. On the other hand, they might be "entered into commerce." Nobody's so far been charged with the current law, so there's no real case studies to follow.

So, worst case scenario, it's a Federal Offense with no precedent. If you want to risk some prosecutor wanting to make an example of someone...

Wait, isn't there a waiver or something for the entertainment industry?

Technically, yes, but it's a one-at-a-time waiver from the Secretary of Commerce. From what I hear, similar waivers are available today for doing without the orange tips. I'm told the office processes only a handful of waivers a year.

So, get a waiver and make my John Woo tribute series! Let the Hollow-eyed hippies have their bullshit!

Not so fast, cupcake. YOU might be willing to do the paperwork for however many fake guns you want to own. How many manufacturers do you think are willing to? How many wholesalers? How many retailers? This law intentionally shrinks that market to custom fabricators willing to do the paperwork (and cheerfully pass the expense, time and effort on to you).

That Sucks! Who's responsible for this bullshit?

That would be Senator Barbara Boxer (D-CA). Yes, I know we're all shocked that this comes from a California Democrat.

Fuck That! I'm moving to her district and voting her out!

Good initiative, but a little extreme. Besides, she's already retiring. And then you're stuck in California, which has an identical state law that went into effect in January.

Wait, you mean this bullshit can become law?

Maybe. California's law was signed by Gov. Brown back in September, and Ohio (where both Rice and Crawdord lived and died) has a similar bill going around at the state level.

Federally? Unlikely with the Republicans controlling both chambers, but unlikely doesn't mean impossible. I give it one chance in five, and that's being generous.

That's all for today, folks.

~J

Black Friday is to raiding like New Year's Eve is to drinking: a violent, messy, crowded, bad-smelling amateur hour fine-tuned to drive even the most cool-headed professionals to frustration.

We Barbarians form hordes for protection, efficiency, and communication among raiders. Go figure civilization would bollocks it up so hard as to turn it into a system where it's every marauder for themselves.

But if one must give the home field advantage to the merchants, some ways are more barbaric than others. Read further to live, thrive and survive on this, the Blackest of Fridays.

Rule one: Cunning over Ferocity.

There's a time and place to storm the gates wearing nothing but blue paint, a fat wallet and a blunt instrument. Trying it on Black Friday just means you'll be mistaken for a Gators fan. Or worse, a Colts fan. To successfully navigate Black Friday, be where the Berzerkers ain't. If the rush is for electronics, be somewhere else looking for clothing. If toys are what needs to happen, head for jewelry.
Yes, the choicest bargains are where the mob gravitates towards. But by that point, limited supplies just ensure you're playing dice with your own bodies. If you must indulge, it pays to stack the deck, so wear your biggest and best spikes.

Rule two: Research thoroughly. 

Every merchant knows that once they have you in the shop with "buy" instead of "burn" on your mind, their job's half done. The sales of this day, while seeming frothing mad at first, are finely calculated to get your leather-and-fur-clad ass in the doors, there to have your senses heavily assaulted by the display racks. It thus behooves you to be nowhere near their establishment without a specific mission in mind. Know what specifically you look for, and which abode both has the item at the best deal on hand. and the lowest capacity for other bargain-charging scum like yourself.

Rule three: If possible, form a horde

For those who can't resist the siren call of chaos, your odds become better by forming a band of other leather-clad layabouts. Discuss each member's primary and secondary goals. Spread out among the shops as best you may. Divide hunting responsibilities and grounds, so that the band itself will be able to cover more territory than its individual members. 

Rule four: If all else fails, raise the drawbridge and wait out the siege.

'Tis one day. Seriously, folks, make it more about leftovers and preparing for the fun of winter than dealing with the hassle. Chaos is like beer and leather unmentionables: provided you know what you're doing, tis' much more satisfying to enjoy those you and your friends make yourselves rather than indulge in what's made by easily distracted amateurs. 

EDIT: And if you be wanting to perpetuate the Barbaric nature of the ladies in your life, the Labs have cooked up a new, internet-only edition of our famous Princess T-shirt! 

Available in a standard T-shirt, unisex tank top or women's fitted Tee, available in a variety of colors just in time for the holidays.