Our conversations in the U.S. almost seem
less heated, rather than more, after
251 mass shootings in only 261 days.
We're becoming desensitized.
It's still there, the argumentation; but, it's muted. We've essentially muted each other.
Unfortunately, we also seem to be stuck in same old, basic points.
Guns - nay!
Guns - yea!
There is very little talk of problem-solving, intermediate actions that could be taken in order to bring us all closer to a safer environment—one less intent on destruction.
Thankfully, we still have a representative government in place. It may not be functional, quite . . . but it's
in place.
Yes, violence has always been as the beck and call of any society, as well as easily roused in certain environments and under particular circumstances. But the frequency and pervasiveness of random violence today certainly demands a different approach than that to which we're accustomed. The nature of our violence has changed, much of the preponderance rooted in a desire to instill fear on a larger scale . . . aka mass terrorism.
The Roots of Fear Grow a Sprawling Shade
In its smaller forms, terrorism hardly makes a recognizable impact on society. For example: without education, a community doesn't recognize a family unit that lives in fear of its patriarch (or matriarch, as luck would have it). In fact, such a small number hardly makes any impact on the whole of society, and with education often will nonetheless fall into the cracks and away from sight.
When larger numbers, however, find that they must consider the consequences of making an appearance in public, our basic awareness moves ahead of education in its effectiveness to gaining attention.
Still, little may be undertaken to address what hasn't been officially deemed a
big-enough problem. School shootings come to mind. These major events are yet ensconced within local communities and often considered to be local issues despite their more widely-spread roots. Hence, more cracks in our facade of an effectively governed populace.
Then movie theaters, churches, and bars.
The scope of the problem widens. The familial, or individual, outing to a local church or movie theater becomes a thing of trepidation. The problem is no longer a thing of teen angst, contained to that isolated world.
Overall, though—it's still a smaller problem than will effect change. People tell themselves they won't be affected, or more accurately: surely it won't happen again. More, "This movie I've picked will likely not attract a shooter."
"My church is obscure enough (or conventional enough, or big enough)" to not be a target.
Or, "It just happened; it's not likely to happen again so soon."
We tell ourselves these things, consciously or not, as we make our various plans for errands, activities and entertainment in a world going awry.
Then concerts and shopping malls. Oh my.
Then Walmart(s). Oh shit.
Surely, within representative chambers, elected and appointed officials are hard at work in the manner necessary on our primary issue of wanton violence along with its root causes. Don't you think?
Because if we take the worst advice and let the responsibility fall from them to us . . .
that could be all she said.
