Two Days after the Bullets

I am sick.  Sick at heart.  Sick at my stomach.  I feel like I’m running on a treadmill, facing backward.  Another school shooting, just a bigger death toll, and the same pundits make political hay while the death sun shines.  Haven’t we done this before?  After Columbine?  (The Amish confused the American media with their forgiveness so that story didn’t last long.)  Grown men and women call each other names, get puffy and prideful around who they hate and why.  How do they keep it straight?  Do they crawl in bed at night with their hate?  Do they memorize the first letter of the names they call each other — the n word, the c word, and then they forget — the f word becomes faggot.  We’re in a war of words, a war in Iraq, a war period, a war begets a war begets a war.  America is the best and brightest experimental democratic star in the history of the world.  After 230+ years, will we allow ourselves to self-destruct around hatred and killing?  We have wireless communication skills that would baffle the founders of our great land into speechlessness.  Why are we using those skills to berate and divide when we could be using them to exalt and unite?  I want the answer to that question and I bet the founders do too. 

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