There are no good guys with guns

How is it possible to be good guy with a gun when the Gun is a malevolent object invented and for thousands of years since developed to extend, amplify, and perfect its evil purpose to kill? Anything will do: ducks, deer, wolves, bears, seals, squirrels, rabbits, pheasants, possums, lions, elephants, humans, sanity, compassion, love, decency, friendship, joy -- there's no discrimination, just implacable intent. Any concept of good that includes killing as "good" is impossible to fathom unless you are someone who actually uses the phrase "good guys with guns," fantasizing frequently about being one of those guys, unless you are someone who would actually use that phrase in conversation, saying it out loud, proudly, even, with a straight face, no trace of irony -- like the sweaty NRA lunatic, so obviously deranged you can't bear to look at him much less listen to his demonic ranting without fearing irreversible spiritual harm -- unless you are someone like that who thinks to yourself or says "good guys with guns" with what can only be a profound naivety -- not the innocent kind but the willfully ignorant, considering the unredeemable evil of the Gun, an indisputable fact, a basic premise that cannot be broken down into an argument with opposing views, into some kind of debate, in that it is a given that a gun's sole purpose is to kill. While this ignorant naivety may explain how you can without logic, rationality, or common sense reconcile goodness and killing, it does not in any way support a claim that, in fact, there can be and are good guys with guns.

Sorry, not possible. With the Gun in hand, with the intent to kill, no matter what the reason or the context, you are not good. You are a bad guy with a gun.

If being a good guy is important to you, then do not touch the Gun! With your mind or your body. The Gun is like a shamanic talisman, an object so powerful it hijacks human souls to serve its purpose. The Gun's dark, seductive, aggressive vibrations, thrilling to those enraptured with fantasies of domination, vengeance, violence, death, should be avoided at all costs.

Do not touch the Gun!

If there's a gun in the car you happen to be riding in, get out. It doesn't matter where or when or if it's raining and you don't have an umbrella or a jacket or how far you have to walk. Get out!

And if someone comes to the party strapped with a gun, proudly announcing the right he or she enjoys to do so, you must quickly grab your coat and leave immediately.

And if there is a gun store in the mini-mall you happen to pull into looking for coffee, do not park. Turn around and leave the premises and never come back.

And if the neighbor kid comes over to play with your kid and brings his toy gun you politely ask the kid to take the gun home and come back without it.

Maybe you'll even have the courage to talk to the parents explaining your strong aversion to the Gun, countering in that small but significant way the relentless advance of the Gun into our lives, the Gun that terrorizes us, not the terrorists.

An impossibly small and insignificant gesture, you say, considering our violence-soaked culture, but are you just going to give up and say whatever? Saying anything that breaks the spell of the Gun in any way is doing something to slow the evil infecting more and more of the human host, infiltrating all lobes of the global consciousness and impressing more and more humans into unconscious service to the Gun.

The Gun needs you to fulfill its purpose, and, possessed by the Gun, you know with the certainty of the true believer that you need the Gun to fulfill yourself. You would yourself die to protect your right to kill for the Gun. You imagine the glorious, righteous moment, the rush of killing the masked intruder, the hooded enemy, those who threaten, who taunt, who disrespect, who pee on your bushes, who scratch your car, who talk funny, who laugh at you, who solicit without permission, who are loud -- all those others who make you uncomfortable, uneasy, afraid. They must not be let in. The borders must be secured. The wall must be built.

Carpet bomb them! the Joker running for president says. We'll make their sand radioactive and make them eat it. A good guy, that guy.

Om Lokah Samastah Sukhino Bhavantu