The Bombing

We call it The Bombing.

We don’t use qualifiers about the Alfred P Murrah Federal Building, or Oklahoma City. Anytime you utter the words The Bombing around these parts, everyone in hearing distance will know what and when you mean.

We also don’t talk about it much. This monstrous event knocked us flat as a community. It re-focused our fight away from the everyday conflicts that engaged us before it happened. Anger and rage were an indulgence we couldn’t afford. We had people to save and lives to rebuild and only so much emotional gas to do it with.

The bombing was mass murder. What happened in Denver and Wisconsin and Sandy Hook and so many other places were also mass murder. What we have narrowly avoided in other places were other mass murders in the making.

Mass murder is not entertainment.

These tragedies are on every news show, even though there’s often no news to report. They are analyzing and pontificating, all without data, like so many useless hamsters in their respective cages. The object of almost all this attention is the individual or individuals who commit these crimes.

Mass murder, whether it is committed by an individual, a mob or a government, stuns us into incomprehension. We can’t fathom why anyone would think that it is a good idea to scheme, plan — use all their money, resources and ability — to work toward and then actually do this ultimately senseless thing.

We ask why. The only answer we get is a cacophony of psycho-babble from the book authors, psychologists and profilers who go in front of the camera and serve up heaping platefuls of meaningless word-salad pontification. There is no usable answer. The question echoes. Why?

Mass murder is inexplicable to those of us who look for reasons in the healthy motivators of love, fun, achievement and reward. This is at least partly because, in addition to all its other negatives, mass murder is just plain stupid. I think this stupidity is part of our fascination. We can’t figure it out.

Hannah Arendt gave us the phrase “the banality of evil” when she described the execution of Nazi war criminal Adolph Eichmann. Eichmann mass-murderered millions. His crimes challenge our notions of civilization and human goodness.

Arendt witnessed Eichmann’s execution. She reported that Eichmann refused the ministrations of a protestant minister, announcing that he didn’t believe in God; then he made a few inane remarks and proclaimed long life to Germany, Austria and Argentina. That was it. This man who murdered on an industrial scale died with a hiccup of banality.

Arendt had experienced Hitler’s anti-Semitism. She was interrogated by the SS, then fled the Nazi death machine from Germany to France and finally America. I would guess that Eichmann was the monster in her closet, the darkness in her nightmares. And yet, when she witnessed his execution, she didn’t see the fireworks of an evil god. She saw the big zero of nothing much. Eichmann’s evil deeds haunt the world, but he himself wasn’t even an interesting person. In her words, ” … this long course in human wickedness had taught us the lesson of the fearsome word-and-thought-defying banality of evil.”

I think she spoke a great truth in this sentence, one we overlook at our peril. Evil is not grand. It is not glorious. It is banal. Stupid. Senseless. Useless. And ultimately, boring.

Spinning verbal webs about the banal little nothings who commit these crimes gives them a substance and a dignity that they do not possess on their own. It creates the unfortunate illusion that these killers are interesting, and it feeds the cravings for significance of future killers in the audience.

Ted Bundy, another mass murderer who achieved celebrity status, said that when he killed he was god. What rot. It doesn’t take any special skill or god-like power to kill. A child can do it. Giving life, living life, caring and nurturing, providing and serving are what bring us close to God, the real God, the One Who made everything, everywhere.

A young mother, sitting up all night with the shower running while she consoles a croupy baby, is closer to God than most saints.

These twisted ciphers of people who commit mass murder are not gods, evil or otherwise. Their dark banality defies the comprehension of people who live and love in the sunlight of life. The media obliges our hunger for an answer to the omnipresent Why? of these things. They give us word-salad ramblings and psycho-babble speculation around the clock. But they don’t tell us what we want to know. They don’t and they can’t explain Why?

In the end, the one thing we know about these mass-murderers is what we knew at the beginning; that they are too dangerous to be allowed to roam free in our world.

We glamorize these people with our obsessive questioning. We feed future mass-murderers and their bizarre quest for significance with the unspoken but very real promise that they, too, can become stars of the obsessive media spotlight.

If the bombing taught me anything it is that these crimes against humanity are not entertainment, that these obsessions we form about those who commit them are our own contribution to the dark side.

Good people are hurt in these atrocities. We should focus our energies on finding ways to help them re-order their lives in this new reality of what has happened to them. We should pray and pray some more. We should pray especially for an end to the interest in these murderers. Contrary to the pretense of those who fixate on them, they have nothing to teach us.

If we want to learn, we would do much better to study those who gave their lives so that others might live, like the school principal who charged a gunman to save her students. We could learn from the security guard who saved a building full of people in Washington, from the cops who went into that theater in Aurora, and the teachers who blocked the doors. The people who bring flowers and lay them on the sidewalk, the generous souls who write checks to help the injured and bury the dead:  These people have something to teach, something worth learning.

There is goodness all around us. If we are sincere about doing something to end these repetitive mass murders, let’s stop looking to the murderers for our solutions and focus on the people who give life, not take it.

Evil is banal. It is boring. It is stupid. And it hurts people.

We should not cooperate with evil by making it, and the deaths of innocents, into our entertainment.

If You Were The One Who Left The Doorway To Hell Open, You Can Close It Now !!

It was 111 degrees in my front yard yesterday. The temperature is heading higher and hotter today.

My cat will not get off the air conditioner vent. I think she’s glued to it. Me? I’m with her. I am officially in love with the air conditioner. My husband may soon be able to sue the thing for alienation of affection.

The green grass is turning yellow. Trees are dropping leaves. Vegetable gardens have stopped bearing. You can take a boat to the lake in search of relief, but you’ll end up swimming and water-skiing in what feels like warm bath water. If it’s possible to swim and sweat at the same time, we’re doing it here in Okie-land.

Last summer wasn’t exactly a comfortable experience, either, and I’m beginning to wonder: Is this the new normal?

OG&E has kept the cool on so far. In fact, I am somewhat in awe of how effective the air conditioners in my house and car really are. But Oklahoma’s power grid wasn’t built for Phoenix temperatures. And frankly, neither was I.

If this is the new normal, we’re all going to have to take a look at how we do things. I, for one, will need to re-calibrate my budget if the electric bills I’ve been paying are forevermore. That means giving up other things I enjoy like eating out with friends and buying my lunch at work. Those aren’t big things, especially the lunches. I might be a lot healthier if I did that. Those are do-able changes. Easy stuff. The low-hanging fruit.

But what if air conditioning becomes too expensive? What if the power grid fails to keep up with the demand? I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m not ready to live through heat like this the way my grandparents did.

I’m too soft. I’m too spoiled. I don’t wanna.

Hopefully, this post is just the rambling of a woman who spent too long out in the sun today. I won’t go into the details, but I got stuck with my 87 year old mother in a car without air conditioning; not for a long, long time, but long enough. I was scared to death Mama would crater. I could just see her falling over in a heat-withered heap of a little old lady. I had horror fantasies of rushing her to the emergency room. I was panicked and guilt-ridden about getting her into this predicament in the first place.

You know what happened? I ended up with a headache. I crawled home feeling like a whipped dog. Mama came through it fresh as a daisy. It didn’t bother her a bit.

Whatever pioneer genes I may have inherited have evidently gone dormant. If this is the new normal, we need to breed another, hardier generation of Okies to take my place.

Me? I’m thinking a summer shack someplace high in the Rockies sounds good. I believe we can pay for it with the money my family won’t be spending on electric bills.

Rally for Religious Freedom June 23 OKC

Fortnight for Freedom OKC

Calling all Oklahomans who believe in religious liberty! 

Rally for Religious Freedom June 23, 2012

Cox Convention Center, OKC