The Martyrs of Gun Control

I know that I am going to die. I don't think a more grad statement can be made. Protests, voting, debate--words, words, words. Change by show of hands is too slow, too weak. It gets compromised on by its creation, birthed through give and take. I don't believe that's good enough. That's why I'll be shooting innocent strangers. The only true way to promote a cause is to highlight its emergency, show exactly what there is to be afraid of, and urge a cessation.
Of course, I wont see it; I'll be dead.
My tools of change: an AR-15, two Glocks, a MAC-10 and enough ammo to hold off a platoon. I've never liked guns. I've never see the use or need. All people do is hurt others with them, kill animals. And when you point this out, they rail about freedom and amendments. They bride voters. They buy results. They disguise the truth.
Until my kind step up. We are believers in our causes. We are martyrs. We give ourselves to a better tomorrow by showing what should be changed today. I know they will tear my life apart. News anchors will psychoanalyze my motives. I may even be a throw-away quip in a Gutfeld monologue. And while they debate my sanity, looking over all the right-wing propaganda I've littered my apartment with, the country will be taking steps forward. Sure, it won't all change because of me. But I'm not the only True Believer. And just like Jesus, we'll all die for our causes. We'll commit acts so terrible that you have no choice but to be afraid. I'm not crazy. I'm not a demon. I'm a martyr, and I'm doing all of this for you.