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We in America devote more resources, energy, resolve and fervor to protecting guns than we direct to protecting school children.

Think that statement is over the top? No. It’s validated. Statistically. It is quantifiable.

And that premise accurately leads to this conclusion. We love guns more than we love school children.

Read that again.

A society can rightly be judged by its determination and ability to protect its children. Our society is currently a dismal failure.

There are more guns in America than there are people. There are more guns in America than there are motor vehicles. There are clearly more guns in America than there are functional human brain cells.

The United States of America—which some consider a developed country—leads all nations of the world in annual gun deaths by a Secretariat at the Belmont margin. There’s no denial, and no justification. (Just as there’s no justification for the U.S. leading all nations of the world in COVID deaths, but I digress.)

We’re talking gun deaths. That’s the subject. Gun deaths. So wouldn’t it be a good idea to universally acknowledge that guns are at least pertinent to the conversation?

But we can’t do that. We can’t even start to pronounce the hard-g in “guns” before the Gun Nut Loony Lobby tries to silence us. The very word is taboo.

Gun deaths.

But let’s talk about “mental health.”

Gun deaths.

But let’s talk about the breakdown of families.

Gun deaths.

Let’s talk about prayer in schools.

Gun deaths.

Let’s talk about our pop culture.

Gun deaths.

Well, actually, “Now is certainly not the time” to talk about any of this.

Gun deaths. But don’t you dare even mention The G Word. That kind of negates any chance of a meaningful conversation, wouldn’t you say?

Understand, this IS complicated, and there ARE myriad factors and problems that impact our horrific rate of gun deaths. We err when we take an either/or, binary approach to this issue.

But could we, you know, consider that maybe cultural gun-worship and easy and unfettered access to military-style guns have at least something to do with this?  Would that be unreasonable?

Apparently so.

America does not have the market cornered on mental health issues. Or cultural issues. Or family issues. Or economic issues.

But we have absolutely cornered the global market on gun deaths.

What’s the ONE variable we can isolate in all of this? What separates us from every other country on Earth in this matter?

Guns. And gun worship.

This is just pure analytics.

I learned something this week that I find admirable. In many religions, simply praying for something without then taking the action needed to bring about the desired answered prayer is considered sinful and a direct affront to God.  

That means just mindlessly mumbling “thoughts and prayers” following every predictable slaughter is not only obviously ineffective, but also blasphemous.

And this is about to get more grotesque. Tomorrow, Saturday, four days after the Uvalde massacre, The Gun Nut Loony Lobby is going to have a bacchanalia not 250 miles away from Robb Elementary. Its sole purpose will be to glorify guns.

You want blasphemy?

This is crude. And crass. And I will not apologize for it. The Gun Nut Loony Lobby, in all of its inexplicable outsized power, is going to gather in Houston for a weekend of Gun Fellatio.

Yeah, that’s disgusting.

But you know what I find disgusting?

Dead kids.

The issue is gun deaths. So shouldn’t that conversation include guns? 

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Paul's Bio

I clearly have the attention span of your median fruit fly.Look! Airplane!

Sorry. I’m back.

It’s both a curse and a blessing. I’ve never bought this stuff about, “He who dies with the most toys wins.” But I do think that a wide range of life experiences helps us grow as people, and helps us better relate to other people. I’ve been fortunate. And I am beyond grateful.

I show up on time. I go like hell. I’m a good listener. I hold myself accountable. I own my mistakes. And I have a natural and an insatiable curiosity. I’m never afraid to say, “I don’t know,” when I don’t. But then I try to find out.

The flip side is I’m a lousy ballroom dancer and my clothes sometimes fit me funny.

Stuff matters to me. I care. But while I take that stuff seriously, I try hard to never take myself seriously. As a result, I have sometimes been told, “Paul, it’s hard to tell when you’re serious and when you’re just having some fun. Which is it? Serious or fun?”

My answer is “yes.” But I think that is a legitimate criticism. I promise I’m going to work on that.

This has been the quickest and strangest half-century I’ve ever experienced. During that period, I’ve been afforded amazing opportunities in news and sports journalism across all platforms. I have taught wonderful students at the high school and collegiate level. Always, I learned more from them than they did from me. I’ve been a high school administrator. I spent ten seasons as a high school varsity football coach. I’ve been an advertising executive. I’ve hosted nationally syndicated television entertainment shows. In maybe the biggest honor I ever received, I was selected by NASA to be “Chet The Astronaut” for the “Land The Shuttle” simulator at Space Center Houston. (All I can say there, is “Do as I say, not as I do.” I put that thing in the Everglades more often than not.) Most recently, I just wrapped up a decade as a television news director, during which time our teams distinguished themselves in holding the powerful accountable, achieving both critical and ratings success.

What does all that mean? It means I am profoundly grateful. It also means I’m ready for “next.” So here we are. Radically Rational. It’s an idea I woke up with in 2017. I scribbled “Radically Rational” on a piece of notebook paper and used a magnet to stick it on our refrigerator. I saw it every day, and it just would not leave me alone.

I am second in charge at Radically Rational, LLC. My wife, Jo (also known as BB), is the president. Clearly, I have failed in my attempt to sleep my way to the top of this organization.

I hope you will learn that I’m loyal as a Labrador. But I will admit that this doggie can bite every now and then. My promise to you? I will show up on time. I will go like hell. I will listen to you earnestly and attentively. I will hold myself accountable. I will never be the least bit hesitant to say, “I don’t know,” when I don’t.

But then I’ll try to find out. Let’s do it.