Sunday, December 16, 2012

A brief departure from the subject of love.

My wife is right. We need to talk about this.

Here is the deal. Guns are made to kill. Killing is the sole purpose of owning and operating a gun. They are made to be a quick and efficient tool for piercing straight through the flesh of another living, breathing being. That. is. it.

They are not made to injure, they are not even made to blow the locks off of doors. They are specifically designed to murder - several times over.

Herein lies the problem with guns. If you are a goddamn civilian, pay your rent delivering tacos to the tables of middle class families, or typing figures into Excel documents, installing cable or car stereos or toilets, making cakes, designing buildings, cleaning peoples' teeth or chimneys, or selling cars or perfume or insurance or sex; if you spend your spare time knitting or hiking or singing or drumming or sewing or doing sit-ups or watching trash-pit television or slamming down bottles of Jack Daniels, then why the fuck do you need a gun.

Maybe you go out and party sometimes, maybe you live on a bad side of town. I live in Aurora and I ride my bike to work in the dark, go for runs in the park. I carry mace on my person in case I am approached by a shark. I understand you want to protect yourself, but I will never understand why "protecting" yourself means that you, as an average-ass dude, have such a goddamn boner for the idea of stealing life.

No matter what the argument is, it comes down to this: you are ultimately trying to protect a right that does not exist - to kill another member of your species.

Not to mention, I would not trust 98% of you people with a gun. Truth.


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