Pistol. Shotgun. Rifle. AK 47. Militia. The Second Amendment. Right to bear arms. National Rifle Association. The NRA.
I confess. My visceral reaction to the words preceding this paragraph are rooted in illiteracy. Rightly or wrongly, I choose to root my life in more fertile ground--ground that nurtures the loving of the human spirit. I understand nothing more. I expect nothing less.
Conflict. War.
Korea. Vietnam....Iran. Iraq. Afghanistan.
Etched in my memory. My father--a Korean War veteran. My brother--Selective Service Draft Number 30, save Conscientious Objector status.
Iran. Iraq. Afghanistan.
Blurred to my attentiveness. Avoided that I might be not submissive--not submissive to War's Clutches.
Pacifism. Pacifist.
I am grounded in "Pacifism." Yes, my name is "Patricia--Patty." Yet, I call myself a "Pacifist."
Most call "pacifism" a common noun. Proper to me, "Pacifism--Pacifist" are proper nouns.
I resist temptations to respond to Rage's White Noise. Yet, piano, and violin notes, CNN's words dissolve my resistance--call me to form my thoughts--call me to express my words.
Gun Control. Not enough. I want more--much more. No one speaks of Gun Abolition. Is such too extreme?
Gun Control. Some advocate. Others can legislate. Some can enact. Yet others may judge. I shall reflect. Gun Abolition.
Let us restore civility. Not just for today. Not just for this week. Not just for this Presidential campaign. Let us restore civility beyond measure of time.
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