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At a Loss I’m not going to spend a lot of time in front of this computer pining over this. I don’t know enough about it. I don’t know what kinds of similarities there are between the events in Virginia and those in Iowa City fifteen years ago. I’m not going to talk about how this country is desperate for some kind of gun control. I’m not going to talk about how increased security on our college campuses won’t really work. I’m not going into how much more often things like this happen than they did twenty-five years ago. I’m not going claim that violent video games and movies and television shows simply must heavily influence days like yesterday. I suppose I could comment on how terrified we all are with this, and how unspeakable this tragedy is; all the while there is a stupid, stupid war going on, in our name, in which there are similar event taking place daily (that’s one similarity with what happened in Iowa in 1991). But I won’t. I’m not looking for a place to put the blame. I’m not watching the news. I’m not looking to the government for answers. And I’m not bowling for Columbine. I can’t and I won’t do any of these things. I already did them fifteen years ago. It all ends exactly the same way. It ends by shaking your head, shrugging your shoulders, and asking the same question every time. What the fuck? You tell me, man. What the fuck? What’s wrong? What’s the problem? What can be done? How can we do it? You tell me. My natural reaction is to write a song. I wish it were enough. It wasn’t last time. |
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