WHEN Bertrand
Russell (1872-1970) argued that the value of philosophy sat not in any
ascertainable body of knowledge but in uncertainty itself, he asked if
good and evil were of value to the universe or only to man.
Stop immediately as soon as you feel the impulse to voice an answer. Bertrand Russell only wanted you to think.
And with thinking in the foreground, let’s talk of murder.
Seven men, in a
narration declared as fact by the Supreme Court, abducted two women as
they waited for a ride home on a rainy night, forced them into separate
vehicles, bound their hands, gagged their mouths, took turns in raping
them, transferred them to another vehicle, drove them five towns
away, raped them again, threw one of them down a ravine and, in
circumstances still unascertained, made the other one disappear from
the face of the planet.
Here laid murder.
Now, the same
seven men stand in death row awaiting their individual turns to enter an
air-conditioned laboratory where they will be strapped immobile – hands
outstretched and feet together – into a metal table so that an
intravenous line could be attached to a vein of a technician’s choosing
and where shots of three chemicals – sodium thiopental, a short-acting
painkiller, pancuronium bromide, which paralyzes the body, and
potassium chloride, which stops their heart – are to be injected.
Here will lay murder.
But even as a bland document appropriately called a death warrant is being issued in
their names, a nation’s leader, perhaps moved by the workings of lobby
groups – groups whose support the leader feels is needed to stay in
power – or perhaps swayed genuinely by the tune of conscience, commutes
a sentence deemed righteous by the High Tribunal, the highest arbiter
of Law, Order and Justice, and brings the seven condemned men an arm’s
length to parole and maybe even pardon. Meanwhile, a mother’s grief and
anguish over the loss of two daughters reverberates until God knows
where.
Here is murder still.
Murder comes in many forms, wrote Oscar Wilde. …a bitter look, a flattering word, a coward's kiss, the brave man's sword.
 | first off, I love Oscar Wilde! so deep a person :)
***
i dunno what to exactly feel with regards to this. and im not in the honored position to judge "our lady" for making such move. and to the mom who carries the unprecedented pain, prayer is my lone support.
but if ordinary citizens were summoned to make a stand, here's what i have to say...
I guess, no one would really feel the pain of the victims' mom unless one fits in in her aggrieved shoes... yes, we understand, we know other else's pains but its an impossibilty to really feel what they're feeling. it always takes more than a sympathy to reach the depth of one's wounded heart. |
 | now THIS is beautiful...or should i say elegant (as the math geeks would say daw)? =) |
Comment deleted at the request of the author.
Comment deleted at the request of the author. | |
