We should have signs at every border like McDonald’s: does “One billion killed in mass shootings.”
Again. Again. AGAIN.
A man walks into a church in a small town and shoots 26 people dead.
Questions swirl–“Is he is mentally ill?” OF COURSE HE IS MENTALLY ILL. Nobody shoots innocent people unless they are mentally ill. You know, in case you were wondering about this, wonder no more.
We have become a nation where mass shootings happen, everybody offers prayers and thoughts, a week goes by and all is forgotten. Amnesia sets in. Nothing is done. The people affected are changed forever, and the rest of us all go on as if the event never occurred. And by the way, I include myself in this do-nothing crowd. You know why? Because I don’t know what the fuck to do. I don’t know how to make change here. I feel helpless to make a difference, because I know the almighty power of the NRA. I know that lawmakers can be bought and sold. I know the most this president will do about this situation is tweet about it. And the tweet won’t make sense, either. I know the pro-gun set is holding the second amendment in front of themselves like a bullet proof vest.
Kiss your loved ones goodbye everyday, and wear clean underwear, because there is no place that is exempt from the being the next mass casualty shooting.
We’re together on so many things. We’re so much more the same than different, the lot of us. We all have blood in our veins and a heart that pumps approximately 7,000 liters of that blood daily. We’re all looking for ways to experience more happiness than sadness. We all want work that’s meaningful, and dare we say, fun, love that gives us the shivers. We’re all searching for connection, looking for a binge-worthy tv show, and a dinner routine that lets us eat a fabulous meal without spending 72 hours in the kitchen. We all love our kids and want them to have the capacity to be happy in their lives. We all want more vacation time. We’d all like to have killer abs without hours at the gym. We all love a good bargain, wish we could change the weather, hate to take out the garbage.
But we’re letting ourselves down right now. While there are multiple reasons for the mass shootings that have been occurring in the States, from the complexity of mental health issues to terrorism. One thing, however, is as clear as a Swarvoski crystal: whatever the reasons behind people shooting up a school, or movie theater or nightclub, they could not do so without a gun in their hands.
How is it that we are more the same than different, but that we cannot seem to grasp this simple concept? Make it harder to obtain guns, and you will still have the mentally unbalanced, the political differences, but with some measures in place, these people would not be able to obtain a gun with the ease of obtaining a package of Juicy Fruit gum.
Stop with the personal safety arguments, and the personal freedom amendments, and take a look at what we are allowing as a country, to happen.
Yesterday was a perfect example of why I am a democrat and will be one until the day I die (and hopefully it won’t be in a mass shooting, but fuck-all, it could be). Yesterday the Democrats staged a sit-in, led by rock star civil rights activist John Lewis of Georgia, in an effort to pass gun legislation. This heartened me, gave me hope that all human responsibility had not gone to hell in a hand basket. All they were looking for was this: to ban gun sales to people on the government’s terrorism watch list, and expand and toughen background checks for gun buyers. Speaker Paul Ryan all but ignored the protest, pushed through a spending bill, and stormed out of the House chambers like a kid runs thought the halls on the last day of school.
None of us wants the people we love, or ourselves to be in the next mass shooting. And yet, partisan differences are blocking the view of our basic humanity. C’mon Republicans, can you please see past your noses to the fact that we are more the same than different. If you don’t, the next massacre is on you, so like you might want to invest in Irish Spring, or Dial or Dove, because you won’t just be washing the blood off your hands, you’ll be washing the blood off your souls.
*the gratitude-a-thon 