When you write a piece about America’s unique and uniquely deadly gun problem, as I have done many times for Esquire, you expect a few things to happen: gun-control people will applaud, gun-rights advocates will get upset, and your Twitter mentions will be a mess for a few days.

But when, in the face of another school shooting, you write an angry one about how you’ve finally had it and now you want to take all the guns away—even if that piece ends up being pretty moderate when you actually look at it—a whole new series of events will happen. In case you’re thinking about taking on such an endeavor, here are a few things to expect.

Gun people will skip the “reading” part and go directly to the “reacting.”

You cannot trust everyone to read past a punchy headline. That’s why plenty of people—plenty—ran right to their keyboards to say: “You’re taking my guns? You’ll get them bullets first.” I would also accept—and did, oh my God, so many times:

“Go ahead and try, the streets will be awash in blood.”

“Good luck confiscating all those guns yourself, really hope you don't get murdered by law abiding citizens lol.”

“Molon Labe.” (I’d never heard this one before, and it appears to be the gun lobby’s version of “Bazinga.”)

Lots of memed-up screenshots from Tombstone and Deadwood, which, if you’re trying to convince me that 2018 America is not the Wild West, are less than encouraging.

This is not a problem that’s endemic to one side of one issue, by the way. Plenty of people of all political persuasions will get worked up over a headline and develop an opinion instead of reading the piece. But in my experience, only gun-rights activists will do this and then add that they’re going to shoot you.

Guns rights advocates at an open carry rally in Seattle on May 20. Getty Images

Had any of these folks bothered to read the piece, which was only 800 words and I am not James Joyce, they would have seen the part where I said: “It won’t happen, of course. So let’s meet in the middle.” I am coming from a place of passion, but I am willing to compromise. Yes of course, in the churn of yet another school shooting, in the only country where this happens anywhere near as often as it does, I want to make the problem go away. In these all-too-common moments, my most special wish is to make all the guns disappear. I would also, while we’re at it, like to teach the world to sing in perfect harmony, and the song I would like to teach us all is “Jump! (For My Love)” by the Pointer Sisters.

There are a lot of impractical things I want and cannot have, so I must compromise. But compromise is not acquiescence. The other side has to give up something, too. I want a world without guns, but I will settle for a handgun being harder to purchase than a second box of Aleve Cold & Sinus. You may want unfettered access to the death machine of your choice, but you must admit it’s making America a dangerous place to live, and scarring an entire generation.

Your hobby has a death toll, and you must work with us to bring it down. You’ll lose something you want. So will I. That’s life. And then when we’ve done that and I can devote my energy to the Pointer Sisters thing, trust me—the choreography will be simple and accessible to even the beginning performer.

Literally everything but guns will be blamed.

Violent video games and movies are the real culprit, even though the rest of the world plays and watches them. Moral decay is at fault, even though that’s subjective and not unique to America. It’s the shooter who killed people, not the gun, as though he would have racked up the same body count with a sack of oranges.

It reminds me of every addict I’ve ever known, in the weeks before they had to clean up their act. It was stress that made me black out and wake up in Scottsdale, not the cocaine. Whiskey isn’t the reason I don’t remember why my arm is broken, it’s because I had a light dinner last night. It’s when these people took a breath, looked at all of their problems, and realized that alcohol and/or drugs were the common element, that they made a step toward recovery.

So to that end: let me point out that one hundred percent of mass shootings involve guns. Literally all of them. None of them don’t.

Gun owners attend the March for Our Rights pro-gun rally in Olympia, Washington, on April 21. Getty Images

The one argument along these lines that I find halfway compelling is this one: mass shootings are a mental health issue. That’s not wrong, and the kernel of truth within it lies in the way it was expressed to me more times than I care to count: “It’s a mental health issue, faggot!”

We do expect our boys to keep their emotions close to the vest. We do teach our boys to be aggressive. We do tell them that vulnerability or sadness or loneliness or longing are things that must be hidden from view, otherwise they are women or homosexuals. We do say “Man up,” which has forever meant “don’t feel anything in public.”

Maybe if we eased up on that a little bit, maybe if these young men could express their emotions in healthy ways in safe environments, these stories might not end so tragically. Maybe if asking for help didn’t get boys mocked and diminished, they might do it more and reach for the all-too-available guns less. (Also, while we’re on the subject, if you think you’re insulting a gay man by calling him a gay man, you are a) not, and b) revealing so much about yourself you really would not believe it.)

Mostly though, I will concede that there is a mental health element to this problem for one simple reason: If you think the status quo is in any way defensible, you are out of your fucking mind.

The simple desire to make your country safer will be seen as a far-left viewpoint.

I wrote my piece to illustrate how a true moderate—in the face of a terrible and worsening problem—begins to think like an extremist. I have no desire to be an extremist. I think it’s a childish way to move through the world. But in the face of too many young people getting killed, when Side A says, “We have to do something,” and Side B says, “Hey, actually, let’s do nothing, because someday the government may come for me and I’ll have to shoot my pistol at a Black Hawk helicopter,” I’m going to lean pretty hard toward Side A.

Children with targets painted on their faces take part in the National School Walkout in L.A. on April 20. Getty Images

Consider texting and driving, something that, like AR-15s, the Founding Fathers didn’t envision. It’s a problem. People die because of it. So our state governments have done something: If you get caught texting behind the wheel, you get fined. Smartphone manufacturers have done something: The new Apple iOS disables your phone when you’re in your own car. Neither of these measures is perfect; The police can’t see everyone, and when you click, “I’m Not Driving,” the phone doesn’t know you’re a liar. I can tell you as a frequent cyclist that I still see plenty of behind-the-wheel Tinder-swiping.

But it’s a start, it’s making things incrementally safer, and you can’t argue that we shouldn’t try. People, drivers and texters alike, are working together to make it even better, and nobody’s out here claiming that their right to play Words With Friends at 70 mph was endowed by God. (For the record, smart gun technology exists. Here’s how the NRA reacted to a gun manufacturer who wanted to explore it.)

I would love to meet in the middle. I would love for law-abiding gun owners to have access to the thing that brings them joy and gives them a sense of safety. I would also love for fewer children to get their heads shot off. So it really falls to the vast majority of gun owners who don’t belong to the NRA or support their agenda. To them I say: Where you at? We need you to get out here and start pushing. Otherwise it’ll just be the NRA on one side, and on the other, regular folks like me who actually do, with each new near-daily atrocity, become extremists and gun-grabbers.

Your inaction is hurting all of us, including you. Show yourself. Let’s work out how you can protect your rights while at the same time making our country safer, and then let’s do those things. The change is coming either way.

The kids who are growing up under this dark cloud will be voting soon, and they are already actively not having it. So join us. I think the Pointer Sisters said it best: “Come on. Jump on in.”

Dave Holmes Editor-at-Large Dave Holmes is Esquire's L.A.-based editor-at-large.

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