Saturday, October 10, 2015

"Shut the hell up and come and take them. You can start at my house."

Via Michael 

 https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZBp1SbKCRI7Vq0rukrs5ZL089UTs0QsrKODVc6L403bO-cByDGfxHZK1x8poRvHCGBNRBDXwT1swdn9MZFzfWzZTIflYEaeatrZaC-2J58XpctMwhLgaxHiDh-BmZ4uqFetCt4eEhC2Lh/s1600/molonlabe2fu0.jpg

Stirring myself to the right words after One of Those Tragedies always takes a while. First, there’s the dragged-down feeling of “here we go again.” The antis rush gleefully on stage to perform their blood dances and once again, decent people need to respond to them, if for no other reason than to keep the record straight.

We can’t even stop to speak with decency and sympathy for the horrible losses because to speak at all is to become political. And that’s obscene.

Mass murders, whether by bomb or knife or vehicle or poison, are horrific individual tragedies. But mass murders by firearm result in a dreary sameness.

Except this time.

6 comments:

  1. Most excellent article, stole and posted........

    ReplyDelete
  2. Claire states it very well!

    Bob
    III

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hey, it posted immediately this time! Must have gotten rid of all the Yankees.................. :)

      Delete
  3. Cept this one, in geography only, my hearts in Dixie!!

    ReplyDelete