You probably heard by now about this overreaction of the Boston authorities to the find of battery powered bright lights. Thinking those were bombs they evacuated areas of the city and now try to save face by arresting those two guys who planted them as an advertising stunt.

OK - bombs are dangerous, we all agree, right? But not only bombs are dangerous - there is more we have to be careful about. Hear what Home Land Security Michael Chertoff has to say in a press release:

"But wherever the weapons come from, they're dangerous."

(He is speaking of weapon claimed to come from the US into Mexico illegally.)

Here you have it: Weapons are dangerous! Now, in his radio show American Radio the host David Champion challenges all his listeners to pitch in with stories proving how dangerous weapons are.

David, I take that challenge. I know you were trying to be facetious as you really think weapons by themselves are not dangerous. NOT SO!

Here is my story...

It was a cold winter night in November. Cold fog started to roll from the sea and slowly filled the streets, attempting to suffocate all life. Even the howling of the numerous packs of wolves that had been heard since autumn had surrendered three weeks earlier had moved away more and more until it now had faded into oblivion.

Doors well locked and barricaded against all possible evil I had settled down at the crackling fire place - an island of life and warmth. A hot coctail of wine and rum in my hands, sipping slowly to feel the life filling my innards I decided to prepare for the times still far ahead when life would resurrect again. Life outside the cities, in the forests, with wild life to be hunted.

I approached the gun safe, dialed in the combination and removed my trusty 30-06 that had served me so well over the years. Lovingly touching her features I settled back into the roomy chair in front of the fire place. With me rag and oil to prepare her for the time of hibernation.

Little did I know how different life would soon be!

Grabbing her lock to remove it from the barrel I noticed some strange resistance, never experienced before. And this is where I think I made my grave mistake. Grabbing harder to force the lock off I suddenly felt a sharp pain in my hand as from an electric shock.

Surprised I let go of my good old 30-06 and stared at her. "What's the matter, baby? Don't you want to be cleaned?"

No reaction.

Slowly I approached. At first nothing happened, but when coming closer than three feed there was a sudden rush of action - like magic a cartridge flew off the table and inserted itself into the chamber in a flash action. I was stunned when the rifle that I loved so much then leapt of floor and hang in the air slowly moving around zeroing in on me.

I scrambled to leave the room, slammed the door behind me, but with the greatest force my baby, which I could not understand any more, rammed through the door and was again in pursuit.

With fluttering fingers I was able to unlock the front door, hastily grabbing my bag and fled. Running through thicker an thicker fog towards the forest in the hope to find shelter somewhere.

I did find shelter - a little cave high up in the mountains, the city far below me. I think my poor 30-06 has lost track, but I don't dare going back. I don't think that I will survive the winter, the frost is already creeping deep into my bones and my hands are slowly getting numb.

When I had time to inspect the bag I had grabbed on my escape I found it to be my computer bag. So now I sit here writing these two words until the batteries will run out. Maybe this will be found by a kind soul should life ever rise and become worth living.

For now cold steel has taken control as during my flight through the streets I had seen many weapons turning against their masters, from heavy caliber like my good old friend, to 9mm Glocks and even a cute little Derringer aiming at it's mistress.

Weapons are indeed dangerous. My government had tried to warm me repeatedly, but - no - I was too arrogant to listen. Now I would like to repent, but it is too late...