Better Off Dead

A gunman recently went on a rampage in an area near where we live. He killed one man and wounded some others. The police shot and killed him, thus saving us the expense of a trial.

The man the gunman killed was a good man. He sounded like an extraordinary man who loved his and other people's children. He was very involved in children's charities.

When people like that are killed senselessly, the world loses something special.

This posting isn't about those kind of people though. This posting is about the kind of people like the gunman who will probably have relatives coming out of the woodwork saying what a nice, gentle man he was.

This posting is about how some people seem to receive "saint" status when they are violently killed, even if they don't deserve it.

Why is it that we are so afraid to speak ill of the dead? Dying does not change the kind of person that you were.

If you were a drug-dealing thief, you don't become a hard-working businessman upon your passing.

Here are examples of what people say when a criminal dies and the translation of what it really means.

"He was trying to change his ways," means "He had cut down from five crack rocks a day to three."

"His girlfriend just had a baby," means "He had a court date Monday to force him to pay some child support."

"He always helped little old ladies across the street," means "He dragged them across the street because they wouldn't let go of the purse straps."

"He had an awful childhood," means "He spent the rest of his life punishing the rest of us for it."

"He was misunderstood," means "Nobody could tell what the hell his problem was."

What if just once, somebody said, "You know, he needed killing."

Wouldn't that be refreshing?