To fully appreciate the beauty of a weapon was to admit to a kind of shortsightedness close to blindness, to confess to a sort of stupidity. The weapon was not itself; nothing was solely itself. The weapon, like anything else, could only finally be judged by the effect it had on others, by the consequences it produced in some outside context, by its place in the rest of the universe. By this measure the love, or just the appreciation, of weapons was a kind of tragedy.
The text delves into the complex relationship one has with weapons, suggesting that truly appreciating their beauty reveals a lack of understanding. This perspective posits that recognizing a weapon as beautiful implies a blindness to the broader implications of its existence. It emphasizes that objects, like weapons, cannot be viewed in isolation; their true nature is illuminated only through their impact on the world around them.
This contemplation leads to a tragic conclusion regarding the affection or admiration of weapons, as it reflects a deeper acknowledgment of the harm they can wreak. The consequences produced by such objects resonate beyond their physical form, ultimately shaping our understanding of them and revealing the moral quandaries intertwined with their existence. This interplay of beauty and consequence paints a somber picture of our relationship with weapons.
