While thinking about my silly man/animal/machine post from yesterday, I was imagining how soft and pink we are compared to more ferocious animals. We're made to eat, it seems. Our teeth are not particularly dangerous. We don't have sharp claws. Our hands are less like weapons and more like appetizers. I bet there was a time when human hands were a real delicacy in the carnivore world. Not any more, though. Now we're not just handed, we're armed. You can have my hands when you pry them from my cold dead gun.
In truth, I'm not a gun guy. If I had to hike the savanna in Africa, it would make sense to carry a gun. Not that I'd be able to shoot anything with it. I'd miss the lion and piss it off and then, even though it was planning to leave me alone, it would attack and kill me. And then the lion would have my gun and it would go on a shooting spree. I'd hate to be responsible for that. Maybe, instead of a gun, I should just take a good pair of running shoes. (Who am I kidding? I'd have even less skill with running shoes than with the gun. I'd lose those too. I'd be killed by a cheetah and it would get the running shoes and then no one could catch it.) I think, instead, I'll just stay away from the savanna. They probably don't have wireless anyway.
What if, instead of shooting each other, soldiers just rushed to the front lines and then debated their world views with each other. They'd probably never convince each other. They'd eventually get bored and go home. We could give them all Purple Brain medals and put them through college. On second thought, that sort of army should probably go to college first. "We've got nihilist and fundamentalist insurgents on the eastern front. We'd better bring in the Special Forces, the grad students." It would change everything, even media war coverage. "This is Geraldo Rivera, embedded with the 51st Battalion, an Anti-Angst unit. I have to be honest, I don't understand a word these guys are saying and I have nothing to report. Back to you in the news room."
So remember, folks: Guns don't kill people. Bad ideas kill people. With guns.
Hello, friends. How are you today?
Later. Love.
P. S. - Aphter: 23. Thanks for stopping by.
