The good people

I know little old ladies who claim they hate violence, but I find them watching programs such as, "They locked me in a box under their bed for two years," or watching shows where people fight over who the father of the baby is. Even more tantalizing is the real stuff in their lives, the divorces and gory details of botched operations and failed businesses.

Our priest used to tell the story of woman who always came to church on Good Friday and sobbed hysterically. He said he wanted to tell her she should come back on Sunday, that the story had a good ending.  She never did.

Religion is full of death and destruction, revenge and retribution. There would be no Christianity if Jesus hadn't died a slow agonizing death on the cross.

The joy of those who hand out the free turkeys on holidays is seldom dulled by the angst of those forced to receive.

There is nothing like a little darkness to warm our hearts and make us thankful for our blessings.

Mankind's creativity blossoms in torture chambers.

Attendance is up at races the year after bad accidents. Death row killings became a bit more humane when they were no longer spectator sports.

No wonder Trump has a following.  Unrestrained human proclivities are terrifying.