Me. Glib me, I sit here with no ability to devine a simple title for this post. I am drained of whatever creative skills I might have ever possessed. Taken away by some 20-year-old social misfit who shoots his own mother in her face, bogarts her near-arsenal of semi-automatic weapons -what’s up with that, anyways? – and wades through an elementary school shooting twenty girls and boys, who still have their baby teeth. like so many tin ducks in a county fair shooting gallery.
Scroll through my recent posts on this blog site and you can read my thoughts and suggestions regarding the mentality of shooters, the need for upgraded security, predictions for similar killing events in he future (I wish I had been wrong!) You will see that, in some ways, I was prophetic, and in many ways I was prosaic and inadequate.
But, right now, I am just numb. As the numbness wears down, though, I can feel the beginning of anger, like a nub of what someday will be a giant corn stalk prodding its way through the mud. After all, there are five stages of Death and Dying, and the first stage is Denial, featuring disbelief and isolation. I am bout to enter Stage II, Anger.
- Denial
- Anger
- Bargaining
- Depression
- Acceptance.
Sorry for such a desultory post. It makes no sense and has absolutely no therapeutic or didactic value. I just have to vent somewhere. But my next post will hopefully will be clearer.
In the mentime, allow me to suggest that you scroll through my last few posts on The Color Codes and The Active Shooter and other posts on dealing with the Active Shooter in our schools.
Don’t you think it is time to get active and to do something about these whackos?
Hammer