An Ethic of Death: Insanity

The men who commit these random acts of violence called mass shootings are not insane. They have memory, the ability to plan and appreciation for the possible consequences of their actions. Many choose to kill themselves rather than to be punished by any other hands, which shows their appreciation for their own standing.

They are not insane. We will not spare ourselves anything of note by putting an extra bar on the Mental Ward.

If not insane, then what? We need some kind of answer.

Here is one. These men are mean. They are not angry, only, or hateful, finally. They are mean.

They are a kind of mean we used to call “cussed mean” back in the little Texas town where I was raised. There are people who are mostly mean, the preachers said, and all of us are a little mean. Then, there are men and women who are just mean, “cussed mean,” and it is a poor idea to give license to the “cussed mean.”

Please understand my acceptance of the counseling arts. I do not have them, myself, but I see people who do and believe their application of personal responsibility and meaningful compassion can help those able to receive good counsel.

I also accept the certainty that there are those who simply cannot be bothered by the pain of others. It does not seem they can be trained for empathy or have the lack of remorse trained out of them.

Some people are just cussed mean. We are all a little mean. Some of us are more mean than not. Some are just cussed mean.

The antidote for evil is spiritual salvation. Therefore, the remedy for this kind of “cussed meanness” is also spiritual salvation in Jesus the Christ. We ignore God at our own peril.

The little Texas town where I was raised was full of guns. The student parking lot at the high school was replete with old pickups, Fords or Chevies or the occasional Dodge. Most of the trucks had gun racks. Most of the gun racks had guns in them.

No one thought to take their gun in the school house because someone laughed at you. Boys who had issues with other fellows settled it out behind the Ag Barn and then went for a Coke with their “enemy” at the only diner in town. There were, shall we say, boundaries.

God set the boundaries. Mean people who went to church and good people who did not go to church still knew there were some things you just did not do.

Now the boundaries are wavy lines instead of hardened borders. Babies are killed by the millions so their womb partner can have her privacy. A baby can be killed in some states even after a safe delivery if the womb partner decides it is just not the right time to be a mother, as though a human baby (nicknamed “fetus”) can be discarded at a whim.

How is this different with the fellow who decides it is inconvenient to share his country with Mexicans? Do our brown brothers and sisters have to accept this fate so the sad, hateful boy from Dallas can feel he is brave? Is his privacy not as important as that of the womb partner and the child?

In any other age a nation killing its young for profit would have been called monstrous. If we now have murderous monsters who walk among us armed with assault rifles, shall we be surprised? Twenty two died in El Paso the other day. This is a terrible pittance compared to the numbers killed daily for a fat fee in our industrial death camps.

You do not have to be insane to take a human life. You just have to be mean.

Cussed mean.

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