I Just Don’t Get It

July 1st, 2010

I just don’t get it.

I just don’t understand.  Take police. Or any other armed forces.  I am sure that when police or soldiers are with their own families and close friends, they are as tolerant, kind, self-effacing, and lovingly tender as the next person.  I am sure they are not only not reproachful, but probably soft-spoken and overly indulgent of their offspring.

What happens to them, then, when they don the costume and take up the badge and bludgeon?  What is the transformational catalyst of the kindly and peaceful individual into the savage master of violent injustices?

Is it the strain of trying to act the part of the power-created illusions?  Is it the fear of causing people to hate them?  Is it the fear of having their families learn of the evils they are taught to do while in the uniform of the “law enforcer” when they had brought with them to their employment and training their lofty dreams of being “peace officers?”  What causes this monstrous transformation?

I just don’t get it.

Are they trained in some training exercise in such ways that they come to love the sport of inflicting pain and punishment?  Are they trained to ignore their own humanity, and to see others as “enemy” rather than as other humans?  Are they trained to follow orders without question, and to inflict injury at every opportunity?  Are they taught that the proper response to their own fear is to cause more fear in others, or to harm or kill others?  Are they trained to think that such actions are normal, healthy, and human?  Are they trained to abandon their own conscience and thinking?

I would find it a tragic difficulty, indeed, to put on a costume and be forced by the expectations of those who ordered me about with so much cruelty of purpose.  I would consider it a tragic difficulty, indeed, should I need to find such desperate means to earn enough daily bread for me and my loved ones.  Better a dustman, or a maid, than to be forced by economic necessity to be paid to learn to kill other innocents, because some power-damaged insane person ordered me to do so to earn my survival, and I do not see any other way to survive.

I should find it a tragic difficulty to even need to think of myself becoming a part-time orc, of working spiritless and mindless violence against the innocent.  Yet, if this is my assigned job, in my financial desperation, how would I find an escape?  How would I come to be aware enough to realize that if I stayed, I was going to slowly transform into one of the full-time orcs, and perhaps descend to being a politician or other of the law-makers and the law-givers.  I would be fearful that I might come to eat happily at the feet of my cruel and power-damaged masters.  I would fear becoming a cruel and power-damaged person, myself.

I just don’t get it.

How do people who must perform heinous acts against other humans reconcile their uniformed behavior with their loving treatment of their wives and children, all of whom might soon be carrying on similar activities, such as peacefully demonstrating, carrying a placard, or handing out peace-promoting literature?  How do “law enforcement” employees reconcile their treatment toward the children and spouses of others with how they treat their own families?  Does it bother those in uniform that they are using such violence against the peaceful children and spouses of others, such treatments as they would not want visited on their own families?

I just don’t get it.

How does one reconcile being a costumed brutal monster, ordered and controlled by others to perform heinous acts, with being a loving parent and spouse when out of costume?  What is the rate of mental illness among such people, whose conscience must be in conflict?

I would find it a tragic difficulty to look at myself in the mirror.

I would find it a tragic difficulty to consider that my children had any inkling of what I was doing at the orders of my masters.

I wonder if those who don the uniform, and take up the badge and bludgeon, have these difficulties.  I wonder if they are looking for other work. Does the heady sense of power over life and death, of mastery over other humans, of the license to use force to create suffering, pain and fear, become addictive to them? Does this power cloud their visions with blood lust and power hunger? Have they become fully as power-damaged as their masters?

How do they hide it from their families, and go on?

I just don’t get it.

Knowing the horrible evils perpetrated by such employment, would not an honest person choose to work two other jobs where they are not ordered to inflict pain, or death?  Is money so dear, and a new vehicle so necessary, is a new flatscreen, and a fancy vacation so important, that people will sell their humanity for a few coins?

I just don’t get it.


1 July, 2010

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