What will we do with me after I perish in the inevitable shooting?

I used to have a scout leader who would enact a thought experiment on each Saturday campout. He’d gather everyone around and ask if we thought it would rain that day. He’d goad responses out of the youngest scouts, who’d done their homework and researched the weather before or were told the forecast by an anxious parent the night prior. They’d give percentages, they’d cite meteorologists, weather.com, that anxious parent.

His refutation was never more nuanced than “Yes.”

The amount of time it took to pack an extra raincoat in the case that the rain came was small, the mewling and hand-wringing over the stress of potentially packing said raincoat was pointless, and it’d be better to have an unused raincoat in the dry air than the alternative. It’s going to rain today.

Likewise, I’m going into education work in the United States, a country where we’ve seen eighteen gun incidents in schools already halfway through the second month of the year. There appears to be no movement regarding taking action against this from politicians. In my home state, we’ve shown a desire to get more guns on campuses, so, y’know, whatever. Violence rules, guns are cool, whatever. I’m sure it’s unlikely in comparison, whatever. I’m going to die at the hands of gun violence.

I was replied to on a facebook comment once that my “argument” that allowing more guns on the campus of the University of Kansas somehow brought more guns onto the campus of the University of Kansas fell apart because the person carrying an unregistered, stolen gun wasn’t found out until it was left in a bathroom. It’s social media, I should expect reality to be the cause of hypothetical debate. The realization that other people would argue for their hobby over your life – the idea that your friends and family wouldn’t wait for the blood spilling out of you to coagulate before they go lock their safes and buy an extra AR-15 just in case – is a right of passage in the United States, not unlike puberty.

The way that I see it, this is a subject of logical debate the same way that boarding up windows is a way of debating an incoming hurricane. Gun violence isn’t going anywhere. This is a sustainable economical model that benefits the Americans who matter, with only the blood of innocents at the cost. It feels like becoming another bullet sponge in the American mass murder industry is sort of inevitable at this point.

At least, it’s inevitable to the point where I should probably prepare.  I’m better now with regards to whether or not my death would affect anyone at all, in that, yes, I think it would be a negative change for at least a few people. I don’t really feel like dying now, which is a step up from the past few months, I suppose, unfortunate given the accepted circumstances here.

I guess… get like an urn? Put the ashes in an urn? Like an old can of Arnold Palmer or a Bud Ice tall boy would be funnier (actually, a Budweiser Select tall boy would be funniest) but I think an urn would do. Spend any money I have left on the wake (My current personal capital of $93 would probably buy a solid wake cake). Headstone can be whatever. Funeral needs to be somewhere other than a church, like a field would be nice. Don’t scatter the ashes. Keep that shit in a house.

Fuck, I don’t know. I kinda thought making jokes about my own death would be easy. Scratch that. Making jokes about my own death is easy. Publishing jokes about my own inevitable death is tough. Actually, coming to the realization that I should prepare to die at senseless violence is relatively easy, too, because I’m still – for the moment – living. Yes, I’m afraid of gun violence… but… like… in the meantime… I have to do something. Until further notice, I’m going to wake up tomorrow and still do what I’m going to do. It’s just good to prepare.

About Joe Bush

The guy behind JoeBush.net and a lot of other things
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