As mentioned in an earlier post, the kid’s being a descendant of Davy Crockett, and that one line from the eponymous TV series’ theme song, are probably what pushed it over the edge.
I wonder if the rifle was on some sort of pivot or turret-like device. They were up in some sort of raised structure, right? Do they have something that you can just clamp onto a rail and then point and shoot?
They are tasty but, no recipes?
CMC +fnord!
Bolding mine.
I, too, am opposed to the indiscriminate taking of brownies. I like to be wined and dined a little before I am taken. I think most brownies feel this way. The sharing part I could really get into, though.
Yet when I use the exact same argument for legalized hunting of neighborhood children, people just look at me funny. Logically, if a child can kill a bear, the child is the more dangerous predator. So why the hell would anybody want one running loose in the neighborhood? But just try calling any pest control services to get them off the lawn.
In the past, children filled an important ecological niche by keeping the bear population in check. But this is no longer true in most areas. In fact many residential and suburban areas are overrun with children, who can cause extensive property damage and pose a danger to vehicle traffic. Legalized, regulated hunting of these dangerous pests would benefit communities and provide much-needed state revenue. Hunting would also act to cull the weak and sickly children from the herd, resulting in a healthier population in the long run. And we’ll all sleep a lot more soundly at night knowing that these aggressive pests aren’t prowling our communities after dark, killing our bears.
Terrifel, I’m going to Hell anyway, and now it appears you will be coming along too. I just would like to say that I hope we’re roomies. That was fucking brilliant. 
According to the article, it was a youth rifle. Here is a partial list of some models.
Puts Terrifel on the “Dopers I Crush On” list
joins Terrifel and Loaded Dog on the Hell bus
I was unsuccessfully attacked by a bear when I was about this kids age so I support hunting of bears via helicopter using heat seeking missiles, but I’m biased. 
Mr Norris, is that you?
Jonathan Swift suggested we not just kill them but eat them, maximizing their contribution to society. A Modest Proposal
Yeah, who gives a crap++
The kid’s been shooting since he was 2 1/2. He was in a perfect ambush position, and his grandfather distracted the bear. It was standing still, not very far away, and the kid was using a rifle. What, they didn’t gag and hogtie the bear and hand the kid a rocket launcher?
That wouldn’t work in this day and age, they’re too high in fat and cholesterol.
To be fair, he was only 5. I wouldn’t expect much in the dick department yet.
On the main SDMB page, this topic reads “Kid Kills a Bear, Grandpa in…”
Yes, but we called them “bars,” as in “kilt a bar.”
This is exactly why it’s so important to cull out the slow ones!
Eventually such selection results in a leaner, healthier population of children.
This is science.
Now they’ve banned fox hunting in this country, I think we have the perfect replacement here.
Maybe Grampa is crying because with the writers strike, his grandson won’t be appearing as a hero on the Colbert Report.
It’s Arkansas. All they do there is kill shit. It’s what they do.
The father of a friend of mine moved to the ‘saw’ a few years ago, and when my friend went to visit he came back and said all the talk about in Arkansas is killing shit. I though this what hyperbole until I drove through the state a year later.
My first encounter with the locals was paying for gas at the kwik-e-mart. Two good old boys behind the counter, talking about killing shit, stopping only to take my $20 bill.
Next stop was at a local motel in Pocahontas. Lonely guy behind the counter sure looked like he killed shit and wanted to talk about it. What with us being from out of town, he kept quiet. Too bad, I could have talked about killing shit, at least long enough to be friendly.
We stopped at a roadside cafe for breakfast the next morning, and the place was full of camo wearing men. I couldn’t help but overhearing the conversations about hunting (which was good, since I’m a hunter too) but I just couldn’t get over the fact they they do actually talk about nothing but killing shit.
When I ordered eggs and bacon for breakfast, the waitress asked if I wanted ‘Biscuits and gravy’ with my meal, except that it really wasn’t a question, it was a declaration that I WAS going to have biscuits and gravy. OK, hey , no argument here. It sounds pretty fucking tasty. Sure, bring the biscuits! I’m not going to argue with a waitress who probably killed the biscuits with her own hands that morning.
It still sounds pretty lame though. Why, when my grandfather was five my grandmother was pregnant with her second child!