I don’t believe there are dangerous writers: the danger of certain books is not in the books themselves but in the passion of their readers. ~Octavio Paz
Gunpowder is an uninteresting chemical compound until it is compressed then ignited unleashing violence beyond its scant physical dimensions. The violence can be channeled for devastation as when it propels a chunk of lead through a human heart terminating life with a secondary explosion slicing through time altering futures in offspring that will never have a chance to save the world.
The same violent process creates multihued beauty when fireworks erupt high overhead momentarily rending the speckled black night with colorful bouquets spreading joy in the hearts of celebrating onlookers.
Books are an unimpressive assemblage of ink printed onto thin layers of pulp krafted into paper bound to a spine and wrapped in a, sometimes, attractive cover compressed into a series of sentences encoding ideas. The ideas lie dormant until ignited by the human imagination, passion, a hungry heart, an oppressed soul into a slow rippling through humanity culminating in violence (dwarfing that of gunpowder).
Gunpowder contributed mightily to the 100 million annihilated during the two World Wars including the evilest bombs ever conceived with Little Boy’s massacre at Hiroshima and Fat Man’s executions at Nagasaki. Ultimately, it was ideas triggering the explosions of bullets silencing hearts and radiation vaporizing them.
Ideas in a fanatics hands are much more dangerous than bullets and bombs. So, the morally corrupt set books aflame, send bullets to snuff ideas, rhetoric to cast shadow dispersions on facts all in vain attempts to consolidate power in their own tiny hands. The corrupt may enjoy short-term victory but, in the long term, always lose to books and the ideas exploding into future futures.