The Cho Factor, Part XXI

Intolerant Sheep

The day before they went on their shooting spree, Columbine High School killers Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold sent an e-mail to the police saying they had gotten their revenge against those who had taunted them. But an equally important clue as to what motivated their bloody rampage is that they blamed parents and teachers for turning their children into “intolerant sheep.”

I don’t believe their choice of words was accidental. Intolerant most certainly referred to the painful bullying in school that Harris and Klebold endured. Intolerance breeds bullying, which is why the two go hand in hand as an integral part of The Game.

But the word “sheep” is even more telling. Clearly, Harris and Klebold meant those dutiful boys and girls who so willingly play The Game. And, to varying degrees, that includes just about all of us — both as children and as adults. If we want to enjoy the fruits of mainstream society, there is one cardinal rule that cannot, under any circumstances, be violated: We must play The Game.

And what of those who rebel against this rule? Millions of hippies rebelled against playing The Game. And so, too, have the Single-Option Purveyors of Death — from Harris and Klebold to Seung-Hui Cho — rebelled against it. Not good advertisements for the end result of flaunting one’s disregard for the rules of The Game.

Let me make it clear that I do not condone the actions of any of these individuals. But I certainly am interested in getting at the core of their anger. And to do that, I believe we need to look in the mirror and be honest with ourselves about just how The Game is played.

Seung-Hui Cho said that the purpose of his death was “to inspire generations of the weak and the defenseless people.” I believe I understand exactly what he meant. It’s the weak and defenseless who are pawns in The Game. The weak and defenseless of our modern world serve much the same function as those doomed souls who provided daily entertainment for spectators in the arenas of ancient Rome.

Today, of course, bullying in school — though all too prevalent — is only one of the weapons used against the weak and defenseless. It’s the verbal abuse, and even more subtle abuses such as exclusion and undeserved punishment, that are far more cruel.

Keep in mind that, for practical reasons, I am a strong believer in certitudes. Without them, civilization is impossible. But I also recognize that the best ideas, the best philosophies, the best concepts are not perfect. All have negative offsets built into them. Sort of like what Winston Churchill said about democracy being “the worst form of government, except for all the others that have been tried from time to time.”

Like democracy, man is not perfect, life is not perfect, and the certitudes of a civilized society are not perfect. The greatest imperfection of certitudes is that, by their very nature, they promote conformity — which, in turn, creates “sheep,” robotic sheep who cannot bear the thought of being out of step with the unspoken rules of The Game.

Conformity stifles growth, creativity, and true spirituality, to name but a few of its negative effects. There is much truth and wisdom in Friedrich Nietzsche’s statement that “The surest way to corrupt a youth is to instruct him to hold in higher esteem those who think alike than those who think differently.”

If you are a Christian, you may hold Nietzsche in low regard. But, as I have said so often, it’s wise to learn from your enemies. Whether a religionist or atheist, I would argue that Nietzsche’s insight is an excellent one. Using Christianity as an example, Christian historians and scholars who research, study, and probe in an effort to separate fact from fiction — whose pure objective is to search for truth — are the real heroes of their faith. Historian Paul Johnson (History of Christianity), a devout Catholic, is perhaps the best living example of this.

On that note, in the next article of this series we will begin to examine just how The Game is played. To start that examination at the very beginning, I would have to go back to Early Man, which would require a great deal of speculation. So, instead, I’ll start with Early Me, which will allow me to make statements based on my own firsthand experience. And don’t be surprised if my own experiences sound very familiar to you.

Previous – Part XX, Winking at Hypocrisy

Next – Part XXII, The Blur in the Mirror