What Makes Evil Evil?
Driving to work just now, I delved deep into my soul and, finally, came up with a plausible answer.
I’ll tell you what I found later today…
It’s now 6:26 p.m. My initial observation occured approximately 7:11 as I drove to my pretend job. (I work in PreK.)
#InMyBookUSaid what I just said. So hang on. It’s coming, but it’s hard.
First, though, you really should read this, a backgrounder on what’s to come.
More recently, this probably has a part to play in the upcoming shadow play.
More coming… I’m writing it now.
Strangulation has played some not-so-hidden part in my life. At an early age I was attracted to necrophilia. A woman was involved. How she died I don’t know.
I said this would be simple, and it is. I’m keeping it simple. No, actually, it is simple.
Remember, this involves ones and zeroes…
I’ve got to close this thing down cause I really need to drink that drink.
There’s this woman. Quite attracted I am to this woman. I see her now. I want to strangle her. Now.
This is what’s playing as I drive to work this morning.
And then I’m gobsmacked in the head.
(I can’t believe I’m telling this story in real time!)
The moment of truth arrives. Do I strangle this woman while driving to work?
Flip of the coin?
No. It’s ones and zeroes, all the way down the line.
And in that choice lies the answer to why evil is evil.
More… yes, there’s more…
Say I choose to strangle the woman. I choose to be evil. Not follow evil. But be evil. I’ve reached the far end of the tunnel. A choice has been made. Either/Or. Ones and zeroes.
What’s evil about my choice? Are there two instances of evil present?
Is it the fact that I am forced into making an Either/Or choice?
I’ll leave that up to you.
It took many years for me to get this far in my thinking. Some of you may be wary of me now. Fear not.
I made the right choice. Do you understand what I just said?
The right choice.
Deep diving your soul can be a little frightening. Or a lot frightening. It can also be revealing. Perhaps enlightening.
I hope my deacon friend was wrong when he conjectured that it had breached my soul. Perhaps my mediastinal mass is its home.