Our Capacity for Evil
Here is something that got me thinking today. Aldon Hynes wrote on his blog, Orient Lodge:
"We all have the capacity for violence and cruelty and we all have different ways of dealing with it. We can talk about the media or changing laws. We can do charitable works to balance out our capacity for evil. Yet, I think my friend is wise in encouraging us to all acknowledge our capacity for evil, as part of our efforts to build better defenses to contain them and keep them at bay."
I agree with this, and it made me think about the rage of the Virginia Tech shooter, and it also made me think about my own inner rage, especially that which burned within me as a child after my parents died. That anger, in retrospect, seemed to have burned so hot that simple kindness and human decency were incinerated. And the world reflected this harshness back to me. At the boarding school I was sent off to, at age 11, the other children sensed I was dangerous creature and kept their distance from me. When people say they can't understand how someone could go on a killing spree, I find myself pausing and thinking, not without revulsion, that I DO understand. Then I wonder for a moment if I'm somehow monstrous to have that understanding. I think not. I think I am simply one who has looked at some of the darker, uglier, and less acceptable aspects of my self, and they have looked back at me, and we've nodded at each other in silent recognition.
And I see now also, in retrospect, that there have been several key turns on my path, or places that I've rested, that have sweetened me and helped to distance me from the rage. One huge one was living in a gay community, Provincetown, during the late 1980s, and working with people who were dying of AIDS. And so many were dying. For those of us who loved them, and lived among them as they died, our hearts were ripped open over and over. Experiences like that have a way of shifting perspectives, and bringing in a different focus.
Another huge rage softener has been humor. Laughing at the world, laughing at myself, laughing at things that more tightly laced up folks don't find amusing at all... while I won't claim it has kept me 'sane', it has indeed been my best medicine through the years. Being on Planet Earth, wearing a human outfit, is a very funny activity. It's hard to be in a murderous rage while you are laughing. Or, put another way, as a friend once said to me, it's hard to be angry when there is a cat on your head.
I agree with this, and it made me think about the rage of the Virginia Tech shooter, and it also made me think about my own inner rage, especially that which burned within me as a child after my parents died. That anger, in retrospect, seemed to have burned so hot that simple kindness and human decency were incinerated. And the world reflected this harshness back to me. At the boarding school I was sent off to, at age 11, the other children sensed I was dangerous creature and kept their distance from me. When people say they can't understand how someone could go on a killing spree, I find myself pausing and thinking, not without revulsion, that I DO understand. Then I wonder for a moment if I'm somehow monstrous to have that understanding. I think not. I think I am simply one who has looked at some of the darker, uglier, and less acceptable aspects of my self, and they have looked back at me, and we've nodded at each other in silent recognition.
And I see now also, in retrospect, that there have been several key turns on my path, or places that I've rested, that have sweetened me and helped to distance me from the rage. One huge one was living in a gay community, Provincetown, during the late 1980s, and working with people who were dying of AIDS. And so many were dying. For those of us who loved them, and lived among them as they died, our hearts were ripped open over and over. Experiences like that have a way of shifting perspectives, and bringing in a different focus.
Another huge rage softener has been humor. Laughing at the world, laughing at myself, laughing at things that more tightly laced up folks don't find amusing at all... while I won't claim it has kept me 'sane', it has indeed been my best medicine through the years. Being on Planet Earth, wearing a human outfit, is a very funny activity. It's hard to be in a murderous rage while you are laughing. Or, put another way, as a friend once said to me, it's hard to be angry when there is a cat on your head.
