"Happiness is a warm gun," I replied, aware that John Lennon, who wrote those lyrics, was gunned down by a madman. Dianna shot well.
My lessons were over, and Ricardo walked me to the parking lot to say goodbye. He handed me a piece of paper. It was from the NRA, a certificate saying I had successfully completed its basic pistol course. I got in my car and turned the key. The sounds of NPR came through the speaker. I felt confused. NPR or NRA? NPR or NRA? Then I thought of a line from another movie, Chinatown: "She's my sister! She's my daughter! My sister, my daughter. She's my sister and my daughter."
TODAY IN SLATE
Blacks Don’t Have a Corporal Punishment Problem
Americans do. But when blacks exhibit the same behaviors as others, it becomes part of a greater black pathology.
I Bought the Huge iPhone. I’m Already Thinking of Returning It.
Scotland Is Just the Beginning. Expect More Political Earthquakes in Europe.
Lifetime Didn’t Think the Steubenville Rape Case Was Dramatic Enough
So they added a little self-immolation.
Two Damn Good, Very Different Movies About Soldiers Returning From War
The Most Terrifying Thing About Ebola
The disease threatens humanity by preying on humanity.