I think we should tie his body to a post and let people throw rocks at it.

The tragedy at Virginia Tech has generated a spectrum of responses from a multitude of people; some offering sympathy for those connected to the dead, some using the tragedy to bring gun control issues back to debate (whether in an honest attempt to prevent future tragedies or simply to further their own political agendas), and some expressing understandable outrage at the murderer, and, more disturbingly but still understandably, at the fact that, by killing himself, he prevented people from administering "justice" to him -- their idea of "justice" being something similar to the suggestion in the title, which is an almost direct quote from a fellow student.

In a discussion elsewhere, the inevitable involvement of Fred Phelps prompted one person to graphically detail how he would murder Phelps and desecrate his body if he were ever in close proximity to the man. In response, I wrote this:

Do you know how a person is capable of murder? A person decides that somebody else doesn't count. That because of what they've done, they're no longer a person, not a human being like you and me, and they don't deserve to live. Dehumanization and detachment are prerequisites to murder -- and in fact any criminal activity. And by condemning this man as a monster, as an evil thing separate from us, not a part of a human race, you're doing the exact same thing, following the exact same path, that led a student to kill 32 people and an elderly maniac to call it God's will.

Am I saying you're going to kill 32 people? No.
Am I saying you're not more justified in dehumanizing them than they are their targets? No.
Does that make it right? No.

Believe me, I understand your position. I'm not defending these people. Phelps is an evil man, and a despicable example of the human race -- but a man, and an example of the human race, nonetheless, and we cannot simply sweep that fact under the rug, ignore it because we don't want to face what it means -- that any of us have the possibility within us for the same. (The great irony being, of course, that in ignoring it, we end up becoming that which we are too afraid to face.)

Understanding and mercy are most important when the people in question don't deserve it. (Even if suggesting it results in getting nailed to a piece of wood.)

To my great surprise, the responses to this were almost entirely positive. The person whose diatribe this was written in response to admitted that he was just blowing off steam. (I won't quote him directly, as I feel that would be inappropriate without his permission.) I offered a clarification:

I know exactly how you feel. To be honest, if I was put in a room with him, I think I'd just lose it and throttle the bastard. I'd regret it later, but I doubt I could hold myself back. But as long as I can, as long as I can strive for mercy and understanding, I will.

For those who don't know and may find it relevant: I'm an atheist. My belief in mercy comes not from faith in God or Christ (though I do like much of what Jesus had to say), but from faith in humanity. Too many people are like Cardinal O'Fallon (this is quote from The X-Files -- spare me the groans):

He's a decent man, but with an overweening pride and sense of responsibility borne of a fundamental lack of respect for the human animal. He believes in God, but not in man, in man's ability to choose, to live in freedom. He has Christ in his brain, but not in his heart.

Based on my experience detailed above, I think that most people believe in man (even if they also believe in God), and, overwhelmed by the emotions of such a tragedy, simply forget it. Everyone needs reminding sometimes. (And yes, if it must be said, everyone includes myself.)