He Who Must Not Be Named
So, about those thoughts and prayers…
There was yet another mass shooting in America this weekend.
This time it was at Virginia Beach when an armed psychopath walked into the city’s municipal center on Friday and killed a dozen people.
The shooter, a longtime city employee who had just resigned, was killed in a shootout with police.
I was having dinner in Manhattan on Friday night and I didn’t know what had happened until I checked my phone.
We’re getting all the horrible eyewitness accounts, the hand-holding vigils, and the biographies of all the victims. We’re getting all the promises of how these massacres must never happen again.
And, of course, they will.
It’s strange—I haven’t really heard the right-wing politicians spewing their “thoughts and prayers” bilge in light of this latest slaughter.
Maybe I missed their hollow words, or perhaps I’m automatically tuning them out because they are just so worthless that my subconscious is rejecting them upon arrival. I’ve got enough of junk in my head already without importing any more.
Or perhaps these whores know just how pathetic they sound by this point when they dump this toxic bullshit on a gun-weary public.
Our esteemed president stopped by a church in Virginia today for about 15 minutes before leaving without saying anything.
Suppression is Golden
One of his mouthpieces said he was there to pray for the victims and the community, and coming from a guy who bragged about grabbing women by the pussy, well, that really means a lot.
A local councilman said “this day will not define Virginia Beach.” Maybe not, but it sure as hell defines America, a place where you can get gunned down in theaters, schools, churches, synagogues, and work.
The city police department said they plan to say the killer’s name once and only once and after that they’ll refer to him as “the shooter” or as “the suspect.”
I don’t disagree with this approach, as a lot of these psychotics commit these atrocities just to get their names in the media.
And if this provides any kind of comfort to the victims’ families, then by all means, let’s do it. Anything to help these poor people, no matter how slight, is fine by me.
But I just think this is a cosmetic step, a band-aid placed over a massive wound that doesn’t begin to address the problem.
The killer was using a .45-caliber handgun with extended magazines and a barrel suppressor. There is some debate about whether the suppressor—or silencer—played a factor in this slaughter.
But I find it very disturbing that Virginia is one of 42 states where suppressers are legal and there’s a movement in the gun nut circles to make these things even more accessible.
The argument, apparently, is that these rough tough gunslinger types can’t have their little eardrums damaged by the big boom-boom. I would think the specially made earmuffs would address this problem, and if they don’t, well, maybe guns aren’t for you.
I keep saying I’m not going to write about these horrible incidents anymore because they happen so frequently. I feel like a farmer who looks to the sky and says, “yeah, we’re about due for another storm."
I had other things I want to blog about tonight, but it feels wrong to ignore these mass shootings. They shouldn’t be considered normal experiences—even though they sure as hell feel that way.
There was yet another mass shooting in America this weekend.
This time it was at Virginia Beach when an armed psychopath walked into the city’s municipal center on Friday and killed a dozen people.
The shooter, a longtime city employee who had just resigned, was killed in a shootout with police.
I was having dinner in Manhattan on Friday night and I didn’t know what had happened until I checked my phone.
We’re getting all the horrible eyewitness accounts, the hand-holding vigils, and the biographies of all the victims. We’re getting all the promises of how these massacres must never happen again.
And, of course, they will.
It’s strange—I haven’t really heard the right-wing politicians spewing their “thoughts and prayers” bilge in light of this latest slaughter.
Maybe I missed their hollow words, or perhaps I’m automatically tuning them out because they are just so worthless that my subconscious is rejecting them upon arrival. I’ve got enough of junk in my head already without importing any more.
Or perhaps these whores know just how pathetic they sound by this point when they dump this toxic bullshit on a gun-weary public.
Our esteemed president stopped by a church in Virginia today for about 15 minutes before leaving without saying anything.
Suppression is Golden
One of his mouthpieces said he was there to pray for the victims and the community, and coming from a guy who bragged about grabbing women by the pussy, well, that really means a lot.
A local councilman said “this day will not define Virginia Beach.” Maybe not, but it sure as hell defines America, a place where you can get gunned down in theaters, schools, churches, synagogues, and work.
The city police department said they plan to say the killer’s name once and only once and after that they’ll refer to him as “the shooter” or as “the suspect.”
I don’t disagree with this approach, as a lot of these psychotics commit these atrocities just to get their names in the media.
And if this provides any kind of comfort to the victims’ families, then by all means, let’s do it. Anything to help these poor people, no matter how slight, is fine by me.
But I just think this is a cosmetic step, a band-aid placed over a massive wound that doesn’t begin to address the problem.
The killer was using a .45-caliber handgun with extended magazines and a barrel suppressor. There is some debate about whether the suppressor—or silencer—played a factor in this slaughter.
But I find it very disturbing that Virginia is one of 42 states where suppressers are legal and there’s a movement in the gun nut circles to make these things even more accessible.
The argument, apparently, is that these rough tough gunslinger types can’t have their little eardrums damaged by the big boom-boom. I would think the specially made earmuffs would address this problem, and if they don’t, well, maybe guns aren’t for you.
I keep saying I’m not going to write about these horrible incidents anymore because they happen so frequently. I feel like a farmer who looks to the sky and says, “yeah, we’re about due for another storm."
I had other things I want to blog about tonight, but it feels wrong to ignore these mass shootings. They shouldn’t be considered normal experiences—even though they sure as hell feel that way.
Comments
The police still don't know what his problem was. I just read a story saying he had not been fired, nor had he been a particularly angry worker. Doesn't seem to matter much nowadays.
Stay safe.