I have discussed previously how I try to stay away from ranting. It is too easy, I think, to tear down. To hate. To find fault. It comes to me naturally and I strive to keep this blog fun and focused on gaming (or pubs, or other fun things on Friday's when I tend to not post about games). Life can often be filled with things that are unpleasant and I like to keep this space as a haven in that (sometimes) heartless world. Once in awhile I fail in that mission. Today's post will have a bit of real life spilling onto its pages so I will completely understand if you click away. No hard feelings. Honest.
I could write pages on how I feel about cowardly criminals. I could bring myself to tears thinking about the carnage and suffering that they bring to their victims and the families left behind. I could write about how their hollow causes are no more, and all that remains is the hate and ignorance that fuels them, but in truth, they are nothing. They are not worth our time, and to dwell on them stains the memory of the victims.
At some point today I will pause for a moment of silence in remembrance of PSNI Constable Ronan Kerr who died in the line of duty last Saturday and was buried on Wednesday, because you see, here's the thing:
There are certain men and women who have been entrusted with the responsibility and the legal obligation to protect us as we go about our daily lives. As a society we give them guns, and ask them to make life and death decisions in difficult, and often dangerous situations. If there are people in the world who are willing to take on, go after, or hunt those individuals, then who among us is safe?