One swing is always empty.
As thrilled as I am that people are being forced to discuss gun control, I'm reminded of earlier shortsightedness.
I'm from Senator Chris Murphy 's home state, to offer full disclosure and express maximum pride.
As most of you know, I live a block from the beach. Yes, it's lovely. Yes, you're always welcome. Please wear sunscreen, and remember to stay hydrated.
By the beach lot is a wonderful new playscape...pink and shiny, it has a bell that gets clanged throughout most sunny days. Children scream and caper, and it gets boisterous till just after dark. (It's too close to the main road, so only the bravest stoners pass by it, and I've never seen any stay.)
It is dedicated to the children of Sandy Hook Elementary. You may have heard their story. A white male, raised in a gun-happy microcosm, decides to ventilate the world.
I said children. Yes, I did.
I want you to imagine, as I did, your child, your niece, your nephew, confronting an unstable individual who is equipped to hold out against a small Soviet incursion. Days before Christmas, and the only weather we here can recall is a lead rain.
Children. Yes, that's what I said.
So when they're clanging and banging and shrieking with glee in I have lost count of the number of languages, I think about all the children who can't. They are silent beneath the soil, haunting family trees they will never extend, because white people have been driven mad for the instantaneous gratification of having godlike power over life and death.
I've never met a group so focused on their rights to the point of rabidity...I don't know if there's a cure, but I know this:
Killing is wrong. Hating people because they aren't like you is wrong. Taking your bad day, real or biochemical, out on others is wrong.
That much I've got. The rest is strong suspicion.
There's nothing wrong with guns, as the NRA likes to say. No, there isn't. My qualms arise from the people who need bigger, better, faster, more...of a deadly weapon. It indicates genuine mental illness, the get-out-of-scorn card for white shooters young and old. If it weren't its own society, this white-knuckled world of erstwhile defenders of defense, they'd qualify as mild sociopaths.
The government has not taken a single one of their guns. Every time that bell clangs, though, I wish they had.
Children, I said. Children.
I'm from Senator Chris Murphy 's home state, to offer full disclosure and express maximum pride.
As most of you know, I live a block from the beach. Yes, it's lovely. Yes, you're always welcome. Please wear sunscreen, and remember to stay hydrated.
By the beach lot is a wonderful new playscape...pink and shiny, it has a bell that gets clanged throughout most sunny days. Children scream and caper, and it gets boisterous till just after dark. (It's too close to the main road, so only the bravest stoners pass by it, and I've never seen any stay.)
It is dedicated to the children of Sandy Hook Elementary. You may have heard their story. A white male, raised in a gun-happy microcosm, decides to ventilate the world.
I said children. Yes, I did.
I want you to imagine, as I did, your child, your niece, your nephew, confronting an unstable individual who is equipped to hold out against a small Soviet incursion. Days before Christmas, and the only weather we here can recall is a lead rain.
Children. Yes, that's what I said.
So when they're clanging and banging and shrieking with glee in I have lost count of the number of languages, I think about all the children who can't. They are silent beneath the soil, haunting family trees they will never extend, because white people have been driven mad for the instantaneous gratification of having godlike power over life and death.
I've never met a group so focused on their rights to the point of rabidity...I don't know if there's a cure, but I know this:
Killing is wrong. Hating people because they aren't like you is wrong. Taking your bad day, real or biochemical, out on others is wrong.
That much I've got. The rest is strong suspicion.
There's nothing wrong with guns, as the NRA likes to say. No, there isn't. My qualms arise from the people who need bigger, better, faster, more...of a deadly weapon. It indicates genuine mental illness, the get-out-of-scorn card for white shooters young and old. If it weren't its own society, this white-knuckled world of erstwhile defenders of defense, they'd qualify as mild sociopaths.
The government has not taken a single one of their guns. Every time that bell clangs, though, I wish they had.
Children, I said. Children.
posted by Thom Guthrie, Bassist and Adventurer at 9:28 AM
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