Prop Gun, Prop Up, Props

[photo from PEXEL stock]

    Another death from a prop gun has occurred. It’s probably an accident, but the word does evoke the sense of harmless; perhaps not anymore. The use of the word “prop” has been shooting up on the graphs of language.
    Things are not what they appear to be. The blank cartridge used in a prop gun does have a primer and actual gunpowder, but there is no bullet or projectile. The shell casing is stuffed with paper or wood or wax. This “wad” is not intended to function like a bullet.
    However, there is an explosion of hot gases. The idea is to have recoil and a muzzle flash so it looks realistic in a movie.
    But the wrong connotation of words can kill. A prop gun is not always harmless. In one case, an actor placed a prop gun against his head, pretending to play “Russian Roulette”. The explosive force fractured his skull and sent fragments into his brain. He died after a few days.
    “Props” may have been a shortened form of “properties” in theatrical use — objects used in a play that the theater provided.
    Giving “Props” is slang for showing respect. It comes from “proper respect” or giving “proper respects” –> giving propers –>giving props. But the concept of “respect” has an odd history to it. In Otis Redding’s 1965 song “Respect,” a woman does him wrong, and he asks for just a little respect. So in his version the woman is the villain in the story. When Aretha Franklin did the song, the woman is a heroine.
    Virtue signaling is a prop in the propaganda Kabuki dance to perform a soft coup d’êtat against the Constitution as graceful as an evil ballet of Marxist treachery.

Props for Us

What you seek, Nancy P, you’ll have it
And what you plead, socialist chick, you’ll have, but

All we’re wanting
is proper respect, when we come home, hey
propers for tax money, hey props, props, props

Take a prop gun to our head, honey, if ya wanna
load them virtue signaling wads if ya wanna
But all we’re wanting
is a little virtue from you when our kids come home
give us those propers, props, make hay now

Hey petite lady, you’re so saccharine, petty honey
And we’re destined to give you… our last dollar
And I’m only pleading for
A smidgen in respect when we come home, worrying
about our kids, their future now yeah

Hey petite lady, you’re so saccharine, petty honey
And we’re destined to give you… our last dollar
but my desires are simple
just props, surrender this
respect for my kids, when they come home
just a tiny bit of virtue, saccharine queen bee

Respect is the only desire I expect from you.
What I crave is respect, tiny old girl, ’cause
politics I won’t heed anymore —
hey old crone
get your hair done
in the beauty parlor
’cause appearance is everything.

from you we want you
to dye your hair less
and respect at least one virtue
if respect is to be
your legacy