As my mouse hovers over the “Add to Cart” button, I pause. Would this make me feel safe? Will this save us from what was once a bleak, distant nightmare? Am I brave enough to do what is necessary?
I hover away.
Over the past six months, I’ve spent more hours than I’d care to admit researching… Researching what happens if the economy collapses, how democracies die, how other countries have survived authoritarianism in the past, what working-class people must do when there are no safety nets, and how to prepare for what’s ahead…
I’ve spent hours watching YouTube channels devoted to urban prepping, off grid living, doomsday scenarios… and the slow algorithmic march towards hyper-fixated gun-culture, with video after video of AR-15’s, concealed handguns, and all of the comparative analysis of each mechanical nuance.
My imagination runs through each scenario. What if it all goes wrong and I have to defend my family? What if supply chains collapse and the store shelves are empty? How are we really going to stand up against the organizations and systems that we’ve so ignorantly trusted?
I haven’t shot a gun in years. During my childhood summers visiting my father in rural Arkansas, I would often field strip his SKS assault rifle in my bedroom floor for fun. We lived next door to my grandfather who could grab a gun within two steps of anywhere in his home. Guns were everywhere and these guys were superb marksmen.
That was a long, long time ago. Would I even remember how to shoot a gun if it really came down to it? Am I going to devote a portion of my life to training and practicing with an object that’s only purpose is to destroy another person? Would this make me feel safe again?
I hosted a concert at The Carnegie with Erin Rae and The Kernal Friday night. It was an intimate show, with each artist sharing a bit about their lives and thoughts between each song. Joe (The Kernal) recounted his police-officer-brother’s affinity for firearms. Something was said like, “Well, the bad guys have them, so we need them too.” A fair enough point, I thought.
Then Joe pointed out the feedback loop of fear. You are afraid of literally being outgunned, so you buy a gun, so then the other guy has to have more guns, and so on.
I felt outgunned.
A browser tab or two are often populated with a gun sale or a used Epiphone J45 (because I can’t afford a Gibson). They both are around the same price - $500 or so. I started to wonder which one would make me feel safer. Better yet, which one is more likely to change anything?
It seems ridiculous to think that writing and sharing a song could be more potent than an AR-15. Even typing it sounds like something only a rich, well-insulated liberal would say. I’ve been shot at, so I get it. The thought of writing a song seems insane when a gun is pointed at you.
But maybe ideas can be a better weapon. Maybe the only way to escape this ever-growing pit of despair is not with a barricade and a carbine, but with voice and mind. Maybe Woody Guthrie had a point.