Here, a startling set of coincidences arises. Oklahoma City bomber Terry Nichols and his brother (who we learn sleeps with a loaded gun under his pillow) have connections to the Michigan militia. NRA President Charlton "From My Cold Dead Hands" Heston grew up in Michigan as did Columbine killer Harris. Michigan has the record for the youngest fatal shooting when a six year old shot and killed a classmate. Heston insensitively attended and spoke at an NRA meeting one week after this shooting, in Michigan.

And Michigan is only a microcosm.

However, across the border, in Canada, where gun laws are similar to ours and guns are just as easily accessible, why is it that the number of gun deaths is only a tenth that of the United States'? Germany and Great Britain have just a violent history as ours and yet only a fraction of the gun violence. What makes us different? Why is a sniper targeting seemingly random people in DC? Why am I scared to walk around my neighborhood at night?

Bowling for Columbine's worth lies in the questions Moore poses as the film leaves us with no clear answers, just a general feeling of anger and helplessness, an overwhelming sense that something is wrong in America, as well as an uneasy longing to move to Canada.

So I'm thinking that moving north of the border to Canada is not such a bad idea. I've got my winter coats (all fifteen or so), my love of Canadian comedians and Canadian bacon (both the movie and the food, although I've been told repeatedly that they don't have Canadian bacon up there. Wtf). I can get excited for Kraft dinners, timbits, and alcool, and I'm all for Boxing Day. I still don't understand Canadian Thanksgiving (what is that all aboot?) but I'll celebrate it. So fuck this shit, when our government decides to attack Saddam, I'll be cheering on the Maple Leafs and skating home to think polite thoughts about the Queen Mum. Canada is utopia.