In the pantheon of America’s gods, none is more powerful or worshiped with greater fervor than the god of violence. Its colleagues or brother gods of greed, sex, touchdown, slam dunk and bacon cheeseburgers all genuflect and grovel before the god of violence.
We didn’t invent this worship of violence, we carried it with us, packed neatly in our baggage when we arrived on these shores from every corner of the Earth during the long period of accretion of immigrants from the extensive variety of violent cultures that became the USA.
Nearly every new arrival carried with them a genetic history of human conflict and war and written histories of human violence tucked into the pages of their sacred texts.
We are though, among the few to have enshrined violence and its tools in our founding documents, offering to our citizens what some succinctly term a “second amendment solution.”
The state wages violence in our names every day and has for over two centuries and now publicly pretends that violence is an aberration. I’m sorry but violence is one of the constants in American history and culture.
As they say “politics ain’t beanbag,” in fact it was a violent sport long before Caesar’s senatorial welcome home from Gaul.
Et tu America.
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