My friend thinks he is a humanist because he hates the NRA. A member of the NRA punches my friend while he is smashing a university window to prove that he is cracked and anti-gun.
Violence everywhere. Do I really care?
Let’s face it. There is no solution. Brutality is irrepressible. Whether you shoot the shooter or let the shooter shoot you, someone still dies.
God invented the world so that we all die. Outlawing guns does not stop bullets from flying. We are all products of other people’s hatred. We die. Sigh, oh sigh. You can’t win in a loser’s game.
I am afraid of guns. I might shoot myself. Death is a byproduct of escape. I ride Pegasus into the clouds and rain on violence. The sunset is red. It is dead.
It hurts me to hurt. I would ban guns except I don’t want to get shot by a bandit. If guns are not legal we die like my beagle did when I was a little boy and he was hit by a car.
There is a mayor in Chicago, Rahm Emanuel, who pretends he wants to protect his people while they shoot each other all-the-live-long-day.
He reminds me of his buddy Obama. They turned our country into the decline and fall of the American Empire. Rome is burning. I am yearning for some return to morals and civility.
Trump wants to make America great again. Not white. Sharpton wants it white so he can hate himself.
Farrakhan looks in the mirror and sees himself as white and wants to kill all the Jews. Quite a man. I’m no fan. He makes the Kul Klux Klan look good. He wishes he was Aryan in Nazi Germany.
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