...for the past four days, day has turned into night and night into day, sleep coming in brief drug induced snatches, filled with bizarre fevered dreams...woke up this afternoon, not knowing the time or even what day it is, having just had the most bizarre of all the dreams...
...in this hazy, surreal, Stanley Kubrick movie inside my head, my long-time bandmate Tom and i were mysteriously transformed into hitmen...not musical hit songwriters and performers, but actual high-powered rifle totin' killers...it was unclear in the dream who our targets were...when i told Tom of my codeine fueled visions, he postulated that perhaps we were out to get all the "weekend warrior" bands who are more than happy to play for shit wages and some free drinks and drive down the fees of all the full-time players who are still trying to make a living in a profession that's hard even in the best of fiscal times...i'm certain that news stories of the past weeks burrowed into my brain and gave birth to these troubling images...it seems that almost every day in this country, a disturbed person picks up a gun and kills his or her own family, or an office or school full of people, or waits in ambush and shoots police officers who are in harm's way every time they roll out onto the streets of Anytown, USA...
...and yet i have friends and aquaintances who support the agenda that there is way too much gun control and a stable person should be able to own whatever sort of weapon they want, short of a nuclear device...perhaps if every gun shop in the country had a psychiatrist on staff to weed out the weirdos or maybe even a psychic to predict who might nut-out in a year or two when he catches his wife fucking the pool guy...neither of these things will happen...
...what will happen is that americans will continue to blast the guts and the life out of other americans in ever-increasing numbers and the hardcore guns rights advocates will continue in their attempt turn this country into an armed camp, each house a personal fortress, each person peering in paranoia through gun slots in iron plates where windows used to be...