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.�