[ul]
[li]The rifle was not an inaccurate piece of junk; it was an Italian version of a proven design (the Springfield?).[/li][li]Oswald qualified for the second-highest rating as Marine rifleman before his discharge.[/li][li]In between shots 2 and 3, the limousine was traveling slowly down a slight downgrade, meaning that it got further away but essentially did not move the target.[/li][li]A Marine sharpshooter, using Oswald’s rifle in a re-enactment a few months later, managed to duplicate LHO’s feat, even getting off four shots in one attempt.[/li][/ul]…just to forestall the next round of BS arguments.
Get this: When you first meet me, you wouldn’t think I was nuts. The people I work with? They know my thought process is different; enough so that they know me to be nuts but in a generally fun way and reasonably harmless–yet I sometimes take a couple days off that I openly admit is for “braincare.” If you really know me like my wife does, you know I’m nuts, that I struggle with impulse control, grandiosity, hopelessness, and self-loathing.
I say I don’t have murder in me, but that’s not really true. In order to manage myself, I’ve learned to objectify people so that they can’t offend me into a state of real crazy. By thinking of a bully the same way as I do a tree, I can make it seem silly to take offense. Under the right conditions, I could easily put a bullet in someone’s head and be concerned only with making an impressive shot that will be talked about for generations to come. “[Oswald] was two hundred and fifty feet away and shooting at a moving target. Oswald got off three rounds with an old Italian bolt action rifle in only six seconds and scored two hits, including a head shot!”
So why don’t I? Because I have a wife and kids. And really, only because of that. If it was just me in the world I could totally see being the ‘slightly off’ office guy who just picked up his deer rifle and popped the president just to see if it could be done. Now granted, I’d have to be in a real funk to make it seem like a good idea, but you’d have a hard time finding a motive that made any sense to a conspiracy theorist who’d prefer my Military Intelligence background to play a role. The real reason would be little more than I was bored, lonely, and curious.
I remember the first time I ever fired a rifle. Took thirty shots at 100 metres and hit the target every single time.
Oswald’s shot was about as far.