Shakespeare in America

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Gun owners who know about weapons and ballistics can understand the unimaginable tissue damage that 12 high-velocity projectiles shot from a high power weapon can do to the tender flesh of a precious 6-year-old child. Twenty children, as many as King Herod's soldiers killed in Bethlehem, and six adults were massacred in Newtown, a New England town as idyllic as Bethlehem was more than 2,000 years ago.

In the preamble of Christmas the collective spirit of this nation will be forever reminded of the most tragic mass massacre in the history of modern USA, and every anniversary of this horror will be a heartbreaking experience for all of us.

It is only natural to ask why this country is the only industrialized one whose citizens, year by year, have to repeatedly endure such "via crusis."

Indisputable science and statics are plentiful proving that, among multifactorial causes for murder and suicide, abundance of easily obtainable guns is the most significant one.

But the most sensible question that must be asked is who in the end is actually responsible for the change in the mentality of Americans to acquiesce and to accept such an incredible cost in life and blood in exchange for the supposed right to bare such lethal assualt weapons.

One must look no further than to the incredible power, influence and deception from the weapons manufacturers and their political arm, the NRA leadership and some legislators in Congress. All of them are putting their own economic and political gains ahead of any other concern.

It is time to expose these people and, as Shakespeare's Macbeth put it in the image of an augur, "the mystical signals made by magpies and crows are fluttering over their heads." That is to say the heads of irresponsible gun merchants, lobbyists and politicians. And as Lady Macbeth (who never killed anyone but facilitated another to do so) compulsively tried to wash imaginary blood from her hands, to rid herself from guilt, so these people will try to shed their guilt. "Out, dammed spot! Out, I say!-One, two. Why, then, 'tis time to do. Hell is murky!"

Carlos Acevedo

Walla Walla

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