Monday, June 12, 2006

It's amazing how a single bullet can kill. If you think about it, it's just a tiny piece of metal isn't it? Relative to how big we are, it's miniscule. It shouldn't really make a difference, because, let's face it, most other things of that size wouldn't really make a difference to anyone.

What's even more amazing, in my opinion, is the fact that this tiny piece of metal and the destruction it can cause is all due to the power given to it by us. Someone loads up a gun with a weeny weeny bullet and fires, and this weeny weeny thing lodges itselfs in someone goodness-knows-how-many-times bigger that it and kills him.

It's more than just the ammunition though. It's more than just the science of it (i.e. bullet cuts through vessels, severes arteries, causes haemorrages...).

What gets me is the amount of trust behind it. It's the trust of the person who invented something of such power. The probable trust that, from now on, everyone who would use his creation would use it for reasons that he would approve of. It's the trust of the manufacturers who make the guns, who make the little, tiny, seemingly harmless bullets, the belief that they are made and will be used to uphold good, for the best of intents. The trust of the salesman who sells off a box of bullets that will contain the one piece that would end the life of an innocent soul.

That's a lot of trust, and it leaves you to think about whether you would willingly hand over that much of faith to anyone. About anything. You're pretty much handing over the bullets aren't you?

One by one, bit by bit, you place the potential for immense pain in the hands of someone else.

And you do this, all the while with the belief that this person is going to frame up these bullets and look at them lovingly as a symbol of the trust you have in them?

Pfft. I doubt it.


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