The Language Police Might not Like it, but Guns Kill

   "The bullet tore through his heart and killed him," I said.
   Max looked up at me in horror when I said that. "Don't do that," he said.
   "Don't do what?" I asked.
   "Don't blame the bullet. That is about as bad as blaming the gun," he said.
   "Oh, Max. I mean no harm in saying the bullet killed him. It did, didn't it? What's the harm in saying it, then?" I asked.
   "Around here, we don't talk like that," he said.
   "Don't talk like what?" I asked.
   "We don't say bullets or guns kill. We just say people kill. That's just the way we word it around these parts," he explained.
   "Around what parts?" I asked.
   "America. In America, we don't talk like that," he said.
   I hung my head, embarrassed for a short moment, and a little confused. For a while, I wondered if my part of America wasn't part of America, for people where I was from had no problem saying, "A bullet tore through his heart and killed him."
   Nor did they have a problem saying someone was killed by a gun if that's what killed them.
   I shook my head and looked back up at Max. "Max," I said, "You some kind of language police?"
   "What you mean?" he asked.
   "Well, seems to me, there's nothing wrong with saying guns kill, if they do," I said. "People like you might be offended, but there really isn't anything wrong with saying it. I'm just thinking you're being some kind of language police."