Every morning I wake up (so far) and check the body count on the social media spreadsheet. Some whack-job has shot up a church or dance or wedding or gathering place leaving a half dozen dead and multiple wounded. Oh, the pathos.
Then I turn the page and there are groups of people in a circle holding hands, heads bowed with flowers and cards and balloons and their thoughts and prayers. Are these the same people who are walking around with military weapons of destruction?
Then, there are those who are called upon to ride out sirens wailing to stop the carnage and pick up the pieces.
I don’t know how you categorize each of these groups. Good guys vs the Bad guys? Liberals vs Conservatives? Red vs Blue? Nationalist vs Spiritualist? Jets vs Sharks? Bloods vs Crips? Reb’s vs Yanks? Us vs Them?
I do understand wars. One group decides they don’t like another group or want what they have and form an army to invade and bomb and destroy and pillage. Wars have been happening before I was born and ever since. Every land has a bunch of folks who like to dress up like each other and walk simultaneity carrying long guns and ammo and hand-held explosive devices, each a personification for murder.
From the database numbers publicly reported, there are enough fire arms for every man and woman and boy and girl and infant in the country. I don’t have one so someone else must have mine too? They can be stacked in the corner, stuffed in the underwear drawer, in the glove compartment, hidden in the closet, displayed in cabinets or hanging on the rack in the truck with the NRA bumper sticker. So, if the availability to guns is as easy to access as automobiles, knives, poison and baseball bats the solution to these mass killing events is run, hide, fight or if you see something, say something (possibility to someone carrying a weapon and wearing a badge).
My view of culture is an evolution from WWII films to cowboy movies to monster movies to space invaders to gangster rap to fear of personal protection in a war zone mentality. Until the 80’s, people on the screen getting shot just fell down. In the next scene there were in the background as another character. Even the photographs of battle scenes only showed a few bodies and everyone thought the bullet killed them immediately (instead of so many moaning while bleeding out). Then the ratings changed and if you were old enough you could watch actors on screen getting fake blood blown across your eyes appearing much more realistic as exciting and nauseated up to Snuff films. Today, social media shows clips of shootings as evidence to a cause or confirm an agenda.
We are not back to the ole West (yet) but when I go into any group of people, there is that wonder of ‘who is packing?’. Who could have had a bad day at the office or was jealous of the attention your romantic partner was getting by another or didn’t get enough sleep or was off your meds is suddenly ticked off by a word or a motion and reacts by shooting strangers to release internal disturbance. The same as war?
I’ve shot a rifle. I know the feel of the recoil and the smell of the exploding powder. I have NOT shot at any living being. I wonder the thrill of shooting a defenseless animal and calling it sport? Is mounting the heads on the wall any more viable than the etched names in the memorials?
When I go for my daily rides, I am aware of being an unprotected target. Anyone in the neighborhood, sitting on their porch might view me as a sideshow passing target and a single shot could win the stuffed teddy bear. When I park my pony, I look around the parking lot. Is there anything unusual? Is there a police car parked or cruising? As I wander the aisles for my daily substance, I check the faces of my passengers on this journey. If someone seems agitated or frustrated or just confused, I turn and go another path. Cautious or paranoid? Packing up to leave I again scan the surroundings. Bad driving could just as well finish my trip early as a mad marksman.
Better go back and check where the mass slaughter was today. Reload.
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