There is that strange breed of person for whom it is never too soon.
This is the same person who finds deranged humor in all that is civilized and instinctively sacred.
This is the person for whom it is never too soon. What is wrong with these people?? A great stain of horror and pain blots our collective soul brought in a shocking flash of random carnage, and this person immediately launches into that sharply offensive stance and emits a fountain of alienating humor that others can’t identify with, much less understand.
We are a demented, pathetic group. We can be found anonymously trashing sacred cows all over the internet. We perch anxiously on the heels of disasters and the only difference between us and the typical ambulance-chasing lawyer is that we don’t care to turn the disaster into a vehicle of financial profitability as much as we seek a token glimmer of visceral fame our meme or spontaneous joke may invoke once it makes the global cyber-rounds.
It’s never too soon. Boston? Bah, never too soon.
What do Hitler and the Boston Marathon runners have in common? None of them could manage to finish off a race.
Terribly guilt-ridden humor. Why can’t we take anything seriously? Why can’t we at least act sorrowful and commiserate like the rest of the “normals” who make dramatic and ostentatious displays of sympathy? People die, blood is spilled, and we laugh, we scorn, we look for opportunities to laugh. And amuse.
Is it because we have no heart?
Are we unable to come to terms with human pain, and thus seek to escape it by mocking it?
We are awful and wait for no one.
We are a despicable bunch, but are we evil? Some, many, would probably concur. But we are not. I don’t believe we are evil. I don’t believe we are heartless or psychopathic. For we realize that some things are painful and “off-limits” but still, we go there. We are the kids who couldn’t abide by self-conscious (and self-important) adult rules. We perpetually flaunted disobedience, not because we enjoyed disobedience per se, but because grave conformity made us laugh, tempted us with its uptight pretension. We are the kids who would get scolded and literally laugh in our scolder’s face. I did this a few times. It was involuntary, but it happens! We are distasteful people.
The world is burning and we look for the closest can of gasoline. We try to formulate fire jokes, we “cleverize” disaster.
I think it’s because we lack empathy. We are unable to close that normal “connection” with others. We are able to connect with those close to us, but beyond that, we are devoid of any sort of kinship. But we are not psychopaths, for we do not seek to inflict pain or suffering. Quite the contrary. We are keen to the vivid blade sharpness of suffering, but because we are so awed and tormented by it, we seek to trivialize it in the most minute and inappropriate behaviors that are sure to abandon any vestige of outward humanity.
We feast on the intimate disconnectedness of modern humanity. We respond to this lack of intimacy with cold, ruthless dehumanization. However, if something of this sort were to happen to a loved one, we would experience the anger and retributive ire that normal people experience even when countrymen thousands of miles away are assaulted. But there are those of us who just can’t summon the passion it takes to embrace the plight of strangers we do not know, regardless of how “similar” they are to us. We are neighbors to no one. We are estranged from the normal cares of mankind. We cannot find a way to invest our emotions to isolated matters of collective gravity that don’t concern us directly.
It’s awful. We are fully aware of the vile nature of our remorseless humor.
But the alternative is just as distasteful. We can never bring ourselves to display societal expected and scripted behavior. While others may force it, we cannot even do that. Whereas in the distant past we subdued this private little purgatory for the sake of existing inconspicuously with others, the internet has unleashed the demons. The demons have always existed but now they come out to play.