"this isn't the day to talk about this"
(part eleven)


remember seven or so weeks ago when TWENTY kids were gunned down in their classroom?

i'm sure you remember it. it was terrible. i cried. sarah cried. it felt like, for those that thought about it long and hard enough, everybody cried. it felt terrible. but it felt like we had finally reached it, a tipping point.

in my opinion, i felt like something terrible and tragic and "close to home" would have to happen to change the national discourse on guns. guns and their lack of control were a debate topic and had been for years, but there's only so much angst one can work up for a random person dying here, or many random people in a movie theater dying there. we don't often directly know those people around the country that are senselessly gunned down, and we are so desensitized to it happening everyday anyway, we see a story on the nightly news or online and we casually scroll past it to the next cute picture of one kitten licking another kitten's head.

but then newtown happened, and then children died. many children. in the most haunting setting one could ever dream up. every one of our kids, we send them off to school and we expect them to be safe. on that day, not only were they not safe, they didn't come home.

my anger at the lack of gun control combined with bothered people with no regard for human life enraged me. i couldn't stand the thought of one more person dying. and i wanted you to feel my pain, but, more importantly, i wanted you to feel those kids' pain. i wanted every person in this country to imagine a bullet ripping through their body, exploding every bone and organ in its path, leading to twenty children breathing their last breaths through shredded lungs. i wanted the imagery to be fierce, because the action and results are fierce.

and for a few days, it felt like things were going to change.

and then they didn't.

yada, yada, yada.

fast forward to this morning and i woke to this article.

1280 people dead from guns since december 14.

ONE THOUSAND, TWO HUNDRED AND EIGHTY.

man, what the fuck is wrong with us?

think of your life. think of how precious you feel every part of your life, your health, and your well-being is. think about how you would do anything to keep yourself alive. better yet, think about your children or grandchildren, and think about what you wouldn't do to keep them safe. to keep them healthy. to give them a chance to grow up and be happy. nothing, right? and then think about how it would absolutely destroy your world if something were to happen to them.

considering how precious we would likely claim any one life to be, wouldn't it be logical that we would feel a massive disturbance in the force if we lost even one life unnecessarily?

if not one, surely we'd be disturbed to move if we knew that 1280 of those precious lives were taken in a span of seven weeks, right? think of the lives lost. think of the parents/families/friends whose lives are now destroyed forever.

please, think about them and be moved.

please, don't just scroll down. kittens really aren't that cute. not so cute that they should draw your attention away from such devastation. draw your attention away so you can bitch about how early you are up on a saturday.

i'm still so mad, and i just don't know what to do. every one that keeps talking about their rights and the "gubmint" and how it could never happen to them. that attitude is literally killing people every day.

and we're okay with that?!

goddammit.

a hypothetical analog?


"guns don't kill people. people kill people"

let's say, for a second, that the above defense of gun ownership wasn't retarded illogical irresponsible. let's say, for a second, that guns manufactured purpose was to show the love of god to others.

now, jump into your delorean, pump that fucker up to 88 mph, and zippity zip back to, let's say, august 28th of 1963. you're in the crowd, way back in the back. you can barely make out the lincoln memorial, much less hear the "i have a dream" speech. you kick yourself for not setting the time on the delorean for a few hours earlier, but are too tired or too lazy to hop back in the car and try again. you just decide to kick in the back with the other late-to-the-party'ers. you start talking to some well-enough meaning, middle-aged white guy. he's come to the march on washington for the spectacle of it all. he has taken his place near the back so he can hightail it back home before the crowd disperses and he's swallowed by the overwhelming mass of black people fellow human beings.

middle-aged white guy is nice enough you observe. during your conversation about the day and the era he lives in, he says something that strikes you as familiar.

"it's not really racism that hurts people. it's the racists."

you think to yourself, "what the fuck?", but you keep that profanity in your brain and respond with a curious, "hunh?"

"we all got racism in us, son. we can't help it. it's the world we live in. there's, what, 189 million people in this country nowadays? that's a whole lot history, filled with slavery and our country being okay with slavery. now, we don't got slavery. we just got people who love black people like the bible tells us to, and we got people who are trying to pretend they love black people like the bible tells us to, and we got people that still wish we had slavery. all of us are sick. we all have the racism. it's in our dna. it's how our country was born. it'll always be in us." 

you nod your head because you don't know if this guy is batshit crazy or the grandfather you never had. either way, you want him to keep talking.

"there's 189 million of us in this country, son. even if we wanted to, we couldn't ask everyone to give us their racism back. it's just not possible. we just got to hope that the older this country gets, the more of them that still want slavery will die off." 

the racists?

"yep. the ones that take them ugly thoughts that we all have in our heads and let 'em all out. shoot black people. spray 'em with hoses. keep their kids away from the black ones. burn crosses in their yards. 

it's not the racism that's the problem. it's the racists."

i gotta go. he's done talking. i better get home." 

you sit there and let the mass of people wash past you. some of 'em give a double-take to your sweet-ass ride, but most of them look happy to go where they are going. not where you're going.

back to the future.

--------

after sarah link-bombed my facebook timeline this afternoon, the above scenario flashed through my head while reading the ensuing conversation. i don't know why the delorean in my mind took me to 1963 and not to some other important and formative date in our country's history. maybe i'm just already feeling black history month. maybe it was "the racism" inside me. who knows.

the gun thing, as i've noted many times here in the last couple months, kills me. the discussion kills me. people talking about losing their freedoms and rights is starting to kill me.

"thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven." a commenter on the christian left blog said that uttering those words today would be tantamount to calling for a revolution, and they'd be right.

we are so fucking fascinated and entitled to these country specific rights and freedoms of ours that we casually and conveniently lose sight that being born here versus the middle of the rain forest was just dumb luck. we casually and conveniently lose ourself in what we enjoy and what we've earned versus what is best for the greater good. we hide behind what can be passed through our broken legislative system instead of taking a proper stand. and we casually and conveniently play the "well, i'll never be that crazy motherfucker that abducts kids off school buses" card with no regard for the guy that actually is that crazy motherfucker.

the old-timer in my pretend past was well-meaning, but he was wrong. it's not the racists that are the problem. it's, of course, the racism.

mlk didn't "have a dream today" of no more racists. he had a dream of no more racism.

now, let's get back to the subject at hand.

"guns don't kill people. people kill people."

"we've got to attack mental-illness."

"we've got to have less violence in movies and video games."

"i just shoot my handheld weapon of mass-destruction for fun. at paper targets and beer bottles."

"my gun that was passed down to me from my great, great, great grandpappy has never been shot. never will be shot. i'm not giving up that gun. you're asking me to give away my grandpappy."

the hypothetical analog in 1963 is not, i repeat, not apples to apples.

but the sentiment is.

the sentiment is that i am choosing to ignore the problem at the same time i'm glossing over the symptom of the problem. the sentiment is one of passing the buck. the sentiment is "it could never happen to me." the sentiment is prideful. the sentiment places more importance on "your" life than "their" life. the sentiment implies that something must be done, but washington is too broke to fix it.

the sentiment is for shit.

"thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven."

why say that shit if we don't really mean it? you think there are guns in heaven? for real??? heavenly shooting ranges where you just blow off some of that angel angst after saint peter picked your pocket in texas hold 'em again?

alright.

our world, on the whole, man. we don't want heaven on earth. if we did, mission work and caring for others and taking extra special care of the poor wouldn't just be a vacation to build a church somewhere in mexico. or an exception to the rule. it would be a lifestyle. a way.

the way.

we don't want heaven on earth. we want our guns. we want what we've earned, dadgummit. we want more drug tests. we want what'll make it through the congress, because ain't shit making it through congress.

we want for shit.

the gun thing, man. it's not a choice. it's not a debate.

it's a mutation. it's a perversion. it's scary. and it's sad.

i have a dream, too. and don't misunderstand me. it's a bigger dream than you turning in your guns because it sends the smallest of messages that you're interested more in the greater good than your born in the usa rights.

but for the moment, i do wish the "good" people would turn in their guns. throw 'em in a pit. burn 'em. ban them. stop manufacturing the ammunition. and let the racists the bad guys eventually die off.

stop making excuses. stop being afraid.

what are you afraid of?

god's got this.

doesn't he?

this isn't the day to talk about this
(part ten)


ignorance isn't bliss. it's ignorant.

i've already given a friend a hard time about stat-ripping since the newtown massacre went down. "this country has stricter gun laws than us and has more crime. more death."

yada, yada, yada. we need more guns, not less. arm the teachers. arm everyone. arm the world. death to us all! yada, yada, yada... the hunger games is real. we kill children on tv for our own entertainment.

rabble, rabble, rabble. we're much more civilized than that. that would never happen. our country would collectively change draw the line in the sand. right there. no children killing children on television. NEVER!!! 

no, i won't bother with too many statistics. i'll just share one and one prediction, both from demandaplan.org.

as of this morning, the site cites that 5155 people have been killed by guns in this country since the night of the aurora, colorado shootings on july 20. since mass gun death is already on your brain, think of that number in all caps.

FIVE THOUSAND, ONE HUNDRED FIFTY-FIVE people in LESS THAN FIVE MONTHS.

fucking ridiculous.

FORTY-EIGHT THOUSAND predicted to die in the next four years.

fucking ridiculous.

guns don't kill people. people kill people. with guns.

fucking ridiculous.

we all have mass gun death on the brain, because, this time around, kids were involved. sweet, innocent children.

we've heard the reports now. sweet, innocent children doing nothing more than spending their day at school. maniac breaks in. shoots each child between two times and ELEVEN times.

we've had nightmares about what those bullets did to their little bodies, ripping them to pieces. we've hoped and prayed that they didn't know what hit them, because we can't stand the thought of a child suffering. we've already started removing the images and the thoughts from the front part of our brains, haven't we? we can't stand to keep thinking about it. we've got other things to do. we've got to go on with our lives.

god bless that small community of newtown, but thank god it wasn't trussville, right?

wrong.

because it could've been trussville. or chalkville. or huffman. or your child's school. or your grandchild's. it just wasn't on friday.

and for 5155 families in the last five months, it happened to them in their home, their place of employment, or somewhere else. some place, any place that they didn't expect to die from a bullet from a gun being held by a person.

fucking ridiculous.

just because we were lucky enough this time to not draw the short straw, does that mean it's okay to not change anything?

it's not.

i'm telling you, man. it's a bad way to live.

you keep telling yourself you're not going to have an ak-47 stuck in your forehead until you do.

you keep telling yourself you're not gonna get cancer until you do.

you keep telling yourself that our country's fascination with fucking guns is not going to come back and bite us. and then it does. over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and 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over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over. and over...

you get my point.

5155 in less than five months.

stop this shit. stop telling me it's better this way. stop telling me more people with guns is the answer.

please, stop it.

if those bullets ripping through those children isn't enough to change your mind, your mind is likely not going to change. i want to say, "shame on you". that's harsh. i'll just think it.

the same way you think i'm foolish for thinking that eliminating guns from our country and culture is a pipe dream and dangerous in its own right.

you're right. it wasn't your gun or your negligence that destroyed those children's bodies and lives.

it was someone just like you. just like me. someone that never thought it would happen to them.

only it did. and, god rest her soul, she was shot in the face, too.

it's time to change. it's past time to change. it's over time to change.

please, let's change.

"this isn't the day to talk about this"
(part nine)


"I know karate. So, it's okay. I'll lead the way out."

For me, it will be this quote that sticks with me the longest I expect.

Only a child, a bright-eyed, innocent little boy full of piss and vinegar could (most likely, subconsciously)  block out the fact that the world around him was falling to pieces, stay calm, and move out of the chaos.

kids say the darndest things.

this isn't the day to talk about this
(part eight)


anything you can stat-rip, i can stat-rip, bettttaaaa. i can stat-rip anything better than you. no, you can't. yes, i can. no, you can't. yes, i can. no, you can't. yes, i can. yes, i can. yes, i caaaaannn!

i was told that i had a 97% chance of my cancer never returning after it was removed in 2009. 97%. those are pretty good odds, right? statistics would say that i was in the clear. i wasn't. it came back.

i can tell you how many gun deaths this country has suffered just this year.

you can tell me about other countries with gun control laws considered stricter than ours and how those laws have led to more death and not less.

i can tell you about japan.

you can tell me about mexico.

to twenty sets of parents in newtown, statistics don't mean shit. they lost their sons and daughters yesterday because some maniac chose to gun them down in their classroom. statistics would tell them that this kind of thing had less of a chance of happening in their small town than my cancer had a chance of returning to my body. it happened.

and so, now what?

statistically speaking, newtown, specifically sandy hook elementary, is likely to be the safest place on earth from now 'til the end of time. these things hardly ever happen anywhere. they certainly never happen in the same place twice.

i feel better already.

this isn't the day to talk about this
(part seven)


"if not us, then who? if not now, then when? will there be a better day for it tomorrow or next year? will it be less dangerous then? will someone else's children have to risk their lives instead of us risking ours" - john lewis

how long is long enough to mourn and remember a tragedy you are not directly related to? who sets the arbitrary time line which defines what is appropriate now and what is appropriate later?

as i mentioned last night, there are those people who genuinely are making efforts to connect on some spiritual level with the families in newtown. this attention they are offering is undivided and unwavering. i say again, the world needs those people. for those people, if they need to wait and have this conversation later, god bless them, because they bless us all.

i choose to connect on a different level. i choose to hear and see and read about and think about and be horrified of the events in newtown. i keep those children in my mind as i type these words. i do not dishonor their being taken from their families. i take offense to it. as we all do.

yesterday was absolutely the day to continue (not begin or pause or stop) this conversation. that a highlighted and brutal event broadened our scope of horror towards gun violence in our country was inevitable. that it didn't happen again today only means we are lucky.

has anything changed yet?

this isn't the day to talk about this
(part six)

ed: thanks to sarah for giving this place a delightful dose of mom's perspective last night. 

amy, katie, and i were out to lunch celebrating their birthday yesterday. i had been at the store, disconnected from the world 'til then. at some point during the meal, i checked my phone.

sarah had linked to the first story i'd seen of the shooting.

her comment was simple and profound, "this is horrifying..."

for the rest of the meal, our attention was divided. we talked about going to see a movie but ended up back at my house, eyes glued to cnn, our mouths agape.

i thumbed through twitter, constantly refreshing for reaction and new information. it was a trainwreck. we couldn't look away.

for the rest of their lives, one of the most tragic days in the history of our country will be remembered on the same day as their birthday.

on some level, that makes me sad for them.

this isn't the day to talk about this
(part four)


one of the phone calls i made to sarah today found her crying on the other end.

"you're crying?", i asked.

i knew why she was crying. it's because a classroom full of children kissed their mommies and daddies earlier this morning, smiled on their way out the door, and then had their lives taken from them by a crazy person.

the idea of those scared children, being shot and killed in what should have been the safe haven of their classroom will be a haunting nightmare to me, sarah, and every parent with a beating heart tonight. and then likely the next night. and the next. and the next. and the next. and for as long as it takes to shake the idea that this could've been our children. who knows how long that will take. longer than your typical news cycle.

here's why this conversation, this gun conversation, this something needs to happen now with a quickness needs to happen today.

because there is nothing in place that would prevent this from happening tomorrow. in another town. to another group of innocent children or adults.

nothing.

wrapping my head around that idea makes me want to shit myself.

what if we wait 'til tomorrow when we could've done something different. something better for the greater good. but we dragged our feet due to some arbitrarily set time of mourning. what then?

more death is okay?

that's pretty a fucked idea.

this isn't the day to talk about this
(part three)


there seems to be three areas of pushback at folks like me that don't agree with the idea that gun control should be one of the primary thoughts this evening.

"it's too soon. give it some time to breathe. today should be a day of mourning."

"guns don't kill people. people kill people. what? do you want to ban cars, too, since drunk driving kills many, many more people than guns?"

"jesus, come back. it's time."

to the first sentiment, i respect it. there are people of this earth that are genuinely sharing their worry and concern and prayer with those directly affected by the gunmen today. the world needs those people. i need those people. i am thankful those people exist. sometimes, i wish i was one of those people.

moving on....

to the second sentiment. if you can logically correlate an act of intentional gun violence with the unintended consequences of a drunk driver, you should own neither a gun or a car. and you scare me. people with guns kill people. people with knives kill fewer people. people with a blunt objects kill fewer people. people who drink and drive are a plague, but, again, their intent is not to kill another. their bad decision may, in fact, have dreadful consequences, but it is not the same. today gave us a coincidental comparison of two madmen. one in connecticut with a gun. one in beijing with a knife. the numbers were eerily similar. the one with knife sent children home or to the hospital injured, scarred physically and emotionally, and possibly traumatized for a long, long time. the one with the guns sent children home dead. dead, dead. children, man.

to the third. come on, man?! evil isn't more prevalent now than ever before. we just get to hear about it all. jesus is back, y'all. his idea and his ideals allegedly live within us all. wishing him to come back is a cop out. he's here. and he's likely very sad right along with the rest of us. so, what are we going to do about it?

this isn't the day to talk about this
(part two)


i always look forward to fajita friday. for the food. for the company. for the conversation. on days like today,  it's a lot of fun and very fulfilling to sound back and forth with my brother-in-law, joseph.

some of what follows may have been talked about around the table tonight, and some may have just brewed over the course of processing the day's events and the reaction to the event.

it is my opinion that there is no better day to talk about the shooting or shootings that have happened and will happen than the day of the shootings. what better time to focus on the issue that is close to your heart than when it has your undivided attention? the over-saturation of our country, world, etc. with guns is something that i think about almost daily. but there are days that those thoughts are clouded or divided by other thoughts like my falcons or bobby petrino or work or family or how terrible cancer is or how atrocious chemo can be or american horror story or the walking dead or dark knight rises or you get my point.

today, from lunchtime on, i thought about the tragedy in newtown. i absorbed every bit of that i could. i cried at the horrifying thought that it could have been my caroline's kindergarten classroom. i prayed selfish prayers of thanksgiving that it wasn't. i wished good thoughts towards the families of the victims. i didn't think of anything else. well, barely anything else. it was a couple of my best friends' birthdays. they got some of my attention.

but the thought of that fucker having four guns and the thought that our country refuses to take a more intentional stance about the easy access to those weapons made me so, so fucking mad i couldn't stand it.

i still can't.

this isn't the day to talk about this
(part one)


this is probably going to fail miserably, but too many of my thoughts about today and the massacre in connecticut are longer than 140 characters, and people are too easily annoyed on facebook if they aren't interested in an opinion that differs from their own, so i am going to try a little micro-blogging and see if it inspires something more long-formish later down the road.