Think tanks and policy factories think nothing of spending many millions of dollars to craft solutions to our thorniest problems. But only rarely do their final recommendations carry as much validity, workability and common sense as five little words in a column by Bob Just (“Guns and guts: Why effete media fear real men”), which took maybe five seconds when he repeated them for me on the radio.

Bob is my senior here at WND, as an editor-at-large of WND’s sister publication, the highly esteemed magazine Whistleblower. Walking down Broadway the other day, I may have scared children when I broke into raucous laughter contemplating how my favorite comedian, Jerry Clower of Yazoo City, Mississippi, would react on meeting Bob Just. Clower would have set loose one of his famous Rebel Yells, followed by a galaxy of compliments so very Southern that nobody else on Broadway would have understood them.

“That Bob Just fellow is wiser than a treeful of owls,” Clower would have bellowed. “He can see through hog wire, and he don’t use much kindlin’ to get his fire started!”

The latest sunburst Bob has given us may turn out to be the best plan yet for lowering the body count after school shootings and, while it’s at it, for “making masculinity legal again.” Interviewers never ask talk hosts for their most impressive moment on the air. Only eighth-graders approach that height of imaginuity. Other talk hosts might well have to take a break and think about it. Thanks to Bob Just’s super-suggestion, I wouldn’t need a millisecond. I’ll lay it all out for you.

Bob maintains a high standard of cultural dissatisfaction. Of all the possible complaints about our American culture, Bob Just has chosen as the most disturbing the successful campaign to equalize the genders in all matters and stamp out any sense of male responsibility to protect our females and children. The culture won’t allow boys to become men, Bob laments, and he’s additionally upset because he knows that view alone would have him bounced out of almost all schools and jobs.

Bob recalls talking to an avowed Marxist and his uncomplaining wife. Bob fired the classic question, “If the shattering of glass were heard at 3 a.m., which one should go downstairs to check it out, you or her?” “Whoever is closer to the bedroom door,” said the Marxist. Judging from the look the man’s wife shot him, Bob wonders if they’re still married!

Bob recalls that shortly after he moved from New York to Santa Monica, burglars broke into an elderly couple’s home and pillaged the premises, leaving the couple gagged and tied up in a closet. Before taking their leave, just to be on the safe side, the burglars slaughtered them with bullets to the head. Bob promised he’d never be a helpless victim like that. The next day he bought a handgun so he could fight back. That in itself was not a super-epiphany. He’d been a sharpshooter on his school’s rifle team and used to carry his rifle to target practice on the New York subway!

Shortly after the Columbine massacre, Bob Just was conducting a seminar for Concerned Fathers Against Crime in Oregon, and an elderly friend he admired a lot, Earle Tyerman, was among those present. Earle was a hero-survivor of the Battle of the Bulge and was still recoiling from seeing the Columbine students frantically scampering to hide. Don’t forget, we had the footage of the carnage in the cafeteria, the murderers clearly visible in their black trench coats. Bob sensed early and accurately that Earle was not at ease with the principle or the spectacle of students – boys and girls together – hiding under the cafeteria tables. Bob could hear the steel inside Earle clanging.

“If anything like Columbine had taken place in your high school days,” Bob asked, meaning the late 1930s to 1940s, “what would you have done?”

And from out of Earle’s mouth came the best five-word position paper ever drafted on the subject of minimizing the consequences of school shootings.

Earle simply said, “On three we rush him!”

Wow! Look how many young ones would live if that doctrine prevailed over trying to hide under a table in the cafeteria!

In the 1960s, when the once-safe streets, parking lots and elevators of America began to change hands and fear moved in, an imaginative entrepreneur in New York opened a “school” at which he claimed women could foil a rape attempt or even save a life by learning how to “fake-faint” convincingly. Am I mis-remembering, or did some men actually try to enroll?

What a healthy switcheroo! In the Bob Just/Earle Tyerman approach, the nearest male shouts the command, “One, Two, Three!” and every male present and threatened storms the gunner and takes him down. He may be too rattled at that point to get off a shot, but let’s say he gets off as many as three, and they’re all fatal. That makes about 14 young folks and teachers who will live, and lots of vacancies under cafeteria tables.

It doesn’t take one or two four-year terms of a super-doer like Trump to make America great again.

It’s as simple as “One, Two …” – See there, you knew the third word already!

And the bad guy won’t know what hit him!

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