As we’re still answering (or trying to answer) a lot of questions as to how a 64-year old retiree could lay carnage with automatic weapons shot from a hotel onto a crowd of people, while praying for and providing love and comfort to families and friends of the 58 people who lost their lives in the worst shooting in US history, I stumbled across this poem an aquaintance posted in one of the social network group pages I’m in a few days ago. While we try and find constructive ways to toughen gun laws in the face of our current administration and the National Rifle Association, this poem sums up the culture that America has when it comes to guns. Germans have bratwursts, soccer, handball, castles and the Baltic and North Seas, are obsessed with travelling and foreign languages and believe that peaceful negotiations are the key to success and harmony. Americans have one thing that makes them strong when in use but very feeble when trying to negotiate, and that is the gun. And while we make our feeble attempts to crack down on gun violence and ban certain weapons, in the eyes of the outside and those whose lives are gone and whose families, friends, co-workers, neighbors and acquaintences are mourning and trying to answer the most difficult questions, the United States of America and its natural inhabitants are characterized by one element: the gun.
This poem is dedicated in memory of the victims of Las Vegas in hopes we can look at this, ask ourselves if this is what we want ourselves to be and most importantly: