Not Like Cake

Last night, some retiree in Tacoma wandered around his neighborhood and fired a gun into some houses. It made sensational news around my office, mostly because holy shit some dude is shooting up his neighborhood but also because things like that don’t really happen up here (meanwhile, a piece of news from St. Louis tells me that another body was found in a car outside of an East St. Louis housing complex…yawn).

The neighborhood the man was shooting up is very close to the neighborhood of one of my coworkers, a nice lady I like very much except for when she goes on tirades about gun control. She hates it. Even as it could apply to drunken and deranged men exacting vengeance upon her own town. Because fuck Obama, or something.

There is so very little sense in arguing with gun nuts, and yes, I mean that, they are absolutely nuts. No one who is sane could logically defend the use of high-speed weapons or purchasing free-for-alls for what they claim to be everyday use and home defense. That’s fucking crazy. In addition, none of them seem to understand that no one is taking away the guns they already have, and that putting some restrictions on the use of some guns isn’t affecting their right to bear arms, an amendment none of them seem to understand very well, either.

Rights aren’t like cake, okay? It’s not like someone else gets a huge piece and you get that dried-out frosting crust holding a broken piece together. Someone I follow on Twitter made an excellent/similar point today:

twitter jeplygaymarriage

Although she was referring to the SCOTUS debating the ban on gay marriage, which, hello, I’m not changing my Facebook photo, but obviously. I don’t really see a lot of anti-gay marriage people where I am – in addition to weed, we also legalized people getting to marry whomever the fuck they want to marry, for chrissakes – but I’m well familiar with the sentiment and I agree that the people who have it just suck. That’s it. They just suck. They’re ignorant, bigoted, sucky people.

This is all I’m good at writing anymore. I’ve started drawing again. I stopped drawing years ago when I started writing and, when I tried drawing again, realized that I couldn’t do it anymore. But I’m trying now. Nothing very good or important, just little cartoony-ish doodles for a thing I’m not really allowed to talk about. The thing is equally nothing very good or important, but it’s interesting to me for the moment and it’s nice to discover that the part of my brain I’d assumed had died can work again, albeit at a slow and partially-handicapped pace.

I’ll tell you what I am good at, though: watching British TV. It’s all I’m interested in right now, and if Netflix doesn’t add more episodes of the shit I’m into, I am going to write some more bitchy posts and nobody wants that.

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About erineph

I'm Erin. I have tattoos and more than one cat. I am an office drone, a music writer, and an erstwhile bartender. I am a cook in the bedroom and a whore in the kitchen. Things I enjoy include but are not limited to zombies, burritos, Cthulhu, Kurt Vonnegut, Keith Richards, accordions, perfumery, and wearing fat pants in the privacy of my own home.
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