The wingnut was agitated.  And he had a gun.
It’s like this.  The wingnut is a retired cop currently working in my office as an investigator.  The man has been in love with George Bush, or at least with the wingnut myth of George Bush, crusader for American interests.  In fact, above his desk hangs an original hand-signed photo of George about to throw a ball at some undisclosed ballpark.  Well, it had been hanging above his desk until very recently, but I’m getting ahead of myself.

Lately, the wingnut has been getting increasingly angry.  And what, you ask, has been causing his frustrations?  The torture of prisoners?  No.  The Iraqi debacle?  That’s not it.  Global warming?  Well, no.  Corruption.  Not exactly.  Rising gas prices.  Bingo.

The wingnut shares an office with our other investigator, situated next to mine.  He has come to me on a number of occasions recently to discuss  or vent, me being the liberal physically closest.  And with each venting session he has been getting increasingly agitated.

Now, perhaps I’ve played some small role in his increasing distress.  You see, when he comes over to vent, I’ve tossed a few additional issues for consideration his way.  He’ll come by and wonder how he and his family can get by with the current price increases and I’ll indicate how the oil industry has made substantial contributions to recent political campaigns,  some $2.6 million to George’s alone.  And that this being so, individuals receiving the benefit of such financial largesse might be inclined to look the other way when oil companies seek to improve their bottom line.  I’ve gone further and indicated to him that recent bankrupcty legislation has put further pressures on ordinary people, to the benefit of credit card companies.  And sensing that he would be supportive of organized labor, I suggested at one such session that labor unions are increasingly under pressure from current policy.  And he has been receptive, even to the suggestion that the debacle in Iraq is about oil.

And his anger has grown proportionately.  The signed photo has come down and has been returned to the individual from whom he received it.  (It has been returned to another wingnut in my office who deals in unusual items as a sideline, but he is a story for another day.)  (Strangely enough, upon taking down the said photo, the wingnut remarked that he still likes George.  What exactly is it about a privileged man from Connecticut, son of a president, grandson of senator, that people find so attractive?)

Most recently I had occasion to participate in another venting.  But something had changed.  Things had escalated.

The wingnut, once again, went on about the latest increase in gas prices.  But he was displaying physical signs of his distress.  His posture and body language were clear.  At times he was trembling.  And then there was something new.

His hand slid down to the small holstered firearm at his waist.  He touched the gun and his hand remained there.  In an agitated voice, he stated that he was so angry that he might shoot somebody.  (I can’t recall his exact statement because at this point I was becoming increasingly agitated.)  I quickly made may way back next door to my own office.

I have a hunch that such wingnut frustration will become increasingly common in the near future.