Something is Rotten in the States

I’m grateful I live in a little-known country at the end of the world

I was a crack shot as a kid. I was a bit of a tomboy and took to the gun quite naturally.

I never killed anything and wouldn’t even look if my mate, Julian, took out a hare or a rabbit, using his Winchester 22 which he taught me to shoot with.

I had a crush on him. Sadly, it was unrequited because I was 12 and he was about 15 and knew the rules.

He once said: ‘You’re going to be all right when you’re older.’

I was pretty impressed and thought he meant that one day I might be pretty.

Anyway, the gun he owned was par for the course for farm boys.

I was a city slicker, but we used to ‘go camping’ on his family’s farm during the summer holidays and Julian would often take me up into the hills to do a little rifle practice.

I could sense the power of the rifle. I liked the way it nestled comfortably, tucked into my shoulder as I felt the smooth, polished wood against my cheek while I concentrated hard to hit an old tin can on top of a fence post that Julian had placed for me.

So, believe me, gentle reader when I say that I get the allure of the gun.

What I don’t get is America’s obsession with guns

And how, in spite of the admonishment of the rest of the world as we look on hopelessly despairing, nothing seems to change — despite the tragic consequences almost daily.

The statistics are overwhelming to read about.

The gun lobby has you by the balls, Americans.

I was gobsmacked to see a photo essay called ‘The Ameriguns’ by Italian photo journalist Gabriele Galimberti last week. It’s horrifying if only for one thing: the pride that’s so apparent on the faces of the people whose collections of weapons reach into the thousands.

It’s the sheer number of the guns, some of which are those mass-destruction killing machines that seem popular with the domestic terrorists who mow down children in schools with gruesome regularity.

Are you Americans so inured to this horror that you’ve simply given up trying to do anything about it?

I hear Biden speaking about change. I hear people railing against the system that’s in place to support this madness. I understand the right to bear arms is enshrined in the Constitution.

You put men on the moon, for godsake. Why can’t you solve this domestic terrorism debacle?

When our own massacre took place in Christchurch in the South Island of New Zealand in 2019, we passed urgent legislation outlawing semi-automatic weapons like the ones used by the Australian gunman who came over to wreak havoc on the Muslim community in Christchurch, better known as the Garden City.

We were rocked to our core. Nothing like this had ever happened before.

I remember thinking that New Zealand had lost its innocence that day.

If that’s the case, America is a wizened old hag

My friend Charlie in Minneapolis lives two blocks from the place where George Floyd’s life was snuffed out by a cop.

Charlie heard from his Black friends that they would arm themselves and start shooting if the cop got off. Luckily the right verdict came down and Charlie was able to breathe a sigh of relief.

I can’t imagine what it’s like to live under that kind of threat. The fear must be something terrible. That existential angst is so far removed from my reckoning, it’s a foreign concept.

And while I consider myself to be an empathic person — my work necessarily involves compassion — I can’t even begin to wonder what is in the minds of parents who must be worried sick that their kid mightn’t make it home on any given day if a crazed gunman decides to target their kid’s school.

That’s just beyond my understanding. It’s not possible to put myself in their shoes.

And I wonder if the rates of home-schooling have gone up in America.