I am profoundly affected by this latest shooting spree. When did we get to this point? How can we continue to let this happen? Why do the guns win over the victims’ right to life? Why are there so many in this country who are so enraged, so sad, so out of control of their emotions? And trust me, putting a damn gun in everyone’s hand isn’t the solution. It’s a death sentence. It’s an admission we can’t rise above the most base level of humanity.
I am absolutely sick over this. Sick. I hate guns. They are tools of murder — hundreds of times more so than they are tools of supposed protection.
I won’t get into the fact that CO is a conceal and carry state.
The loss of life, the trauma, the anxiety, the poor soul who was shooting because he had that option…I’m almost beyond words.
I am grossed out by my comedy friends, a mere 14 hours later, encouraging folks to buy goddamned tickets to their goddamned comedy shows. “Laugh it out” “Laugh or cry” “We’ll heal through comedy.”
No. You’re trying to heal through selling tickets. Filling seats. Pretending commentary is action. Pretending joking about stuff…other stuff, probably…is going to heal the shock and pain today? Uncool. Uncool. Self-serving. Egotistical.
There is nothing wrong with commentary. Not a damned thing. It’s important.
But it’s not changing anything. Not really. At best, be honest and say you’re going to help people numb themselves to this thing, too. For awhile. For ever. But there’s not a magnificent nobility to it. There’s charm. There’s help. There’s humanity. But not magnificent nobility.
There was a three-month-old who was in danger. There was a six-year-old who I believe was shot. I’m not in the mood to laugh it out. Solemnity for more than half a day, please.
I am angry and fearful.
I send you to this article in the New Yorker.
I mourn the loss of life. I mourn the continued loss of reason where weapons are concerned.