The gun, it’s been a symbol of freedom, and oppression. It’s been both reviled and treasured. One could say it’s the great equalizer, some kid from Somalia picks up an ak-47 and suddenly he has a little peace of mind. I’ve always believed that it ties into a need for influence. One day your copping food from the marketplace just to scrounge an existence, the next your feared and respected. It’s not just a weapon to people in those situations; it’s a cause, a chance to deliver yourself from suffering.
And what about the people selling these guns, are they heroes or villains? On one hand, there providing a tool that’s only intended purpose is to kill. On the other hand, there giving the poorest of the poor a chance to say, vary clearly, that they need more than what they have.
The general thesis has always been that killing is wrong. But how do you measure morality in places where violence and daily living intertwine. What if you kill someone to save someone, or to save yourself? What if you kill out of vengeance, and what crime is a justifiable catalyst for killing. A gun can turn a man into a lot of things: hero, villain, rebel, oppressor, the list is endless.
Guns have always been a concern for those in places of power. One major step towards totalitarianism has always been disarming the common man. Every potential dictator that’s worth his salt knows that an armed underclass is like having an enemy legion in your backyard.
In the end, it’s not the gun itself, but the person pulling the trigger. In a world of 6 billion plus people, it’s not hard to find conflict. And where you find conflict, you’ll find guns. You find them slung over shoulders deep within the muggy rain forests. You find them strapped to the side of police, both crooked and straight. You find them jutting from windows on the worlds most hellish battlefields. You’ll likely find them closer to home than you would like to believe.
In short, guns are what there user intends them to be. Maybe when our great society breaks down under the weight of corruption and greed, we’ll know what this truly means. When we walk fearfully through our defiled streets, vigilant for the signature clatter of an ak-47, maybe then, we’ll know.
