I’ve never been shy about the fact that I am anti-war. I honestly do not see how we can justify warring, especially considering that IT DOES NOT WORK. I’ve heard it said that we go to war to achieve peace. Okay, dandy. We’ve been involved in one war or another over and over and over again. Where is this peaceful result that we were seeking? When, in the history of mankind, has war resulted in peace? I’m no history buff, but I can’t think of a single example.
My friends are a very eclectic bunch, diverse in their opinions about politics, religion, and pretty much every other topic I can think of. Some, like me, believe that we need to find a better solution to global disagreements, while others see my steadfast aversion to war as evidence of my naiveté. All believe that it is ugly, but some see it as a sad necessity.
I do not.
If you cannot get along with your brother, you have several options. You can talk to him in the hope of changing him to better suit your way of thinking, you can acquiesce, and be whatever/whomever it is he wants you to be, you can agree to disagree, and remind yourselves that your love for one another is stronger than whatever it is that is separating you, or you can decide that your relationship is irreparable, and you can part ways. Or, of course, you can kill him and eliminate the tension once and for all.
The thing is—beyond the obvious moral issue of killing your brother—is that once he’s dead, you are left with new broken relationships. Let’s just say that there are no police knocking at your door to ask about your brother; let’s assume for a minute that the law of the land allows for a stronger person to eliminate a weaker one, if no other solution could be settled upon between them.
The situation does have its perks. Not only is your jackass brother never going to bother or bully you again, but you sent a pretty strong message to anyone else who may have been giving thought to screwing with you. Nothing says "Back off, Jack!" like a corpse.
Of course, there might be some who feel strongly enough about your actions to take action themselves. Your sister-in-law and your nieces and nephews are probably gunning for you, as your own parents might be. If nothing else, those who knew both you and your brother are sure to have thoughts about the killing—some agreeing that you had no other option and others seeing you as a ruthless and reckless danger who must be ‘handled.’ Ultimately, someone will take charge of the situation and in no time, you will be laid to rest in the family plot, right next to your brother.
At your funeral luncheon, your favorite cousin will look across the room at your uncle, who, while saddened by your loss, believed that you had it coming and isn’t shy about saying so. When your cousin overhears the older man say, “It’s a terrible situation, but it had to be done,” something in him stirs, and he can’t ignore it.
He goes out to his car and gets the handgun he has tucked under his front seat and returns to the room, determined to make things right. All he wants is peace, and he knows but one way to get it.
You wouldn’t like it if someone stole your words, so please don’t steal the work of photographers and graphic artists to provide images for your blog.