I'm starting to feel proud to be an American again. Today the Democrats are staging a sit-in in the House to protest the lack of action concerning the accessibility of guns. To most of the world it seems a no brainer. Too many guns available to people who should not be allowed access to them. But in the name of the 2nd amendment, everyone, whether they are on a no fly list or not, should be allowed a gun.
But
The sleeping giant is waking up. Hypnotized too long by a combination of inertia, apathy and fear, the powers that be in Washington lay in thrall to the Right to Bear Arms cult, promulgated by the NRA to be as sacred as the Ten Commandments. But the 2nd amendment says more than the 'right to bear arms'. It starts with the words, a well-regulated militia. Not a free for all militia.
It also states: The fifth and last auxiliary right of the subject...is that of having arms for their defence, suitable to
their condition and degree, and such as are allowed by law.
Suitable to their condition and degree. So a person on a terrorist watch or no fly list is suitable? I think not. I may not be the brightest LED light in the room but I feel pretty confident in saying a would be terrorist is not suitable gun ownership material.
I watched some of the live coverage from the House. It was wonderful. I don't know who was speaking, don't know what time of day or night it was, don't know the names of the gun victims whose photos were held up by other sit-in sittees were, but I do know, rather than cringing and feeling ashamed to call myself a Yank, I was proud.
It is a small step the Democrats are taking but they are taking that first step - and they ain't sleep-walking!
Thursday, June 23, 2016
Sunday, June 5, 2016
The Drumstick
Taking 15 minutes to start this blog. Of late I always seem to be doing something else. In 15 minutes we have to take the dogs for a walk. Otherwise, on this really miserable cloudy, cold and windy day (with the odd stinging rain added just to illustrate how truly awful the day is), we run out of daylight. No one likes plunging about in the mud (yes, we've had rain) in the dark. Especially me.
It's not as though I've not thought about posting. I've had blog soliloquies trailing words through my head. One began with the sight of a discarded drum stick lying on the sidewalk outside the gym. I was on the cross trainer. A nice place to think, anything to avoid the pain of the 30 seconds of going flat out torture that are endured in the hopes of getting fit. So I stared at the drum stick and the more I stared at it the sadder it looked.
It probably came from the local Kentucky Fried Chicken. Is there any good-sized town anywhere in the world that is KFC free? And that drumstick. Symbol of a short miserable life and the unremarked death of a living creature, whose remains, after being stripped of flesh, were tossed onto the sidewalk.
Not many people are lucky enough or interested enough to get to know a chicken. A chicken is a stupid animal, yes? Without intelligence, feeling, emotion or sensitivity. It eats, shits, squawks out some eggs, if it is lucky to live that long, and dies without a murmur. It is merely a commodity, created only to give it's life to us.
But of course that is the easy attitude. Reality is different. We indulge in species-ism. Humans are at the top of the species pyramid and every other creature was created to serve us either with their toil or with their lives. Or both. That is their fate. That is their obligation because they were not born human. And that ultimate sacrifice is our due. No matter how deserving or undeserving we might be. The most craven and despicable among us are Gods compared to a mere chicken.
Bloody awful it is too.
There is a video of a chicken being hugged by a young boy http://www.huffingtonpost.com.au/entry/little-boy-hugs-chicken_n_5173773.html?section=australia. The chicken not only initiates the hug but stretches her head along his shoulder while he strokes her back. The chicken is happy and, it's so apparent, loved and loving. So too the boy. This white chicken, wrapped in the arms of her boy friend, is not a commodity.
The discarded drumstick was a sad, tragic reminder of what we miss by refusing to see what miracles are in front of us if we will only open our eyes. It still makes me sad when I think of it. Sad? It breaks my heart - so I will end this now before I cry again for crying will not bring that chicken back. But at least I can salute her. And apologize for the ignorance and callousness of the human race.
It's not as though I've not thought about posting. I've had blog soliloquies trailing words through my head. One began with the sight of a discarded drum stick lying on the sidewalk outside the gym. I was on the cross trainer. A nice place to think, anything to avoid the pain of the 30 seconds of going flat out torture that are endured in the hopes of getting fit. So I stared at the drum stick and the more I stared at it the sadder it looked.
It probably came from the local Kentucky Fried Chicken. Is there any good-sized town anywhere in the world that is KFC free? And that drumstick. Symbol of a short miserable life and the unremarked death of a living creature, whose remains, after being stripped of flesh, were tossed onto the sidewalk.
Not many people are lucky enough or interested enough to get to know a chicken. A chicken is a stupid animal, yes? Without intelligence, feeling, emotion or sensitivity. It eats, shits, squawks out some eggs, if it is lucky to live that long, and dies without a murmur. It is merely a commodity, created only to give it's life to us.
But of course that is the easy attitude. Reality is different. We indulge in species-ism. Humans are at the top of the species pyramid and every other creature was created to serve us either with their toil or with their lives. Or both. That is their fate. That is their obligation because they were not born human. And that ultimate sacrifice is our due. No matter how deserving or undeserving we might be. The most craven and despicable among us are Gods compared to a mere chicken.
Bloody awful it is too.
There is a video of a chicken being hugged by a young boy http://www.huffingtonpost.com.au/entry/little-boy-hugs-chicken_n_5173773.html?section=australia. The chicken not only initiates the hug but stretches her head along his shoulder while he strokes her back. The chicken is happy and, it's so apparent, loved and loving. So too the boy. This white chicken, wrapped in the arms of her boy friend, is not a commodity.
The discarded drumstick was a sad, tragic reminder of what we miss by refusing to see what miracles are in front of us if we will only open our eyes. It still makes me sad when I think of it. Sad? It breaks my heart - so I will end this now before I cry again for crying will not bring that chicken back. But at least I can salute her. And apologize for the ignorance and callousness of the human race.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)