My friend, Mark, is a collector of comic books; an aficionado of graphic novels and a toy addict. Bordering his dining room table are bookshelves of Marvel action figures, Star Wars Drones and Boba Fetts standing, sitting and rope swinging on Lego space ships and miniature movie sets. In his bedroom, white cardboard boxes stand in stacks in every corner filled with books, magazines and calendars.
Mark likes fun things. He’ll buy hunting knives and buckets of G.I. Joes at tag sales way before purchasing a much-needed pair of pants. And if Hasbro Toys ever made Mark into an action figure, it’d be in a tee-shirt, a pair of hiking boots and a bathing suit (excuse me, “adventure shorts”) and the box would read: “Hilariously idiosyncratic! Mark includes a bottle of Blueberry-Lemonade Smirnoff Ice and a heart of gold!” For as much as I joke at his enormous stockpile of toys and useless knowledge of fantasy histories, I do believe it is the comic books and action movies that have shaped him into the man of righteous morality he has become. I say this despite the fact that his morals often differ drastically from mine. My morals, for instance, are based on episodes of Sesame Street and Full House and the teachings of Catholic School nuns, while his stem from Ninja Turtles, Spider Man and Wolverine. However, when it comes to the difference between good guys and bad guys, we usually agree.
While at dinner at a funky fancy restaurant for Mark’s girlfriend, Amy's birthday, he discusses this horrific crime he's been following in the news. In Connecticut, two men entered a house; locked the father in the basement; raped and murdered the father's two young daughters and wife upstairs and then burned the house down. (The father escaped through the basement’s bulkhead, which Amy and Mark discuss as peculiar. Avid crime show watchers, they say they have suspicions of the father’s possible involvement with the criminals.) The crime happened a couple years ago, Mark tells us, and still it has not gone to trial. He doesn't understand it and I don't blame him. Where’s the speedy trial? Where’s the justice?
Naturally, the subject of revenge takes a seat at our table next. Amy jokes that Mark fantasizes about avenging her death, which she fears will actually lead to Mark accidentally murdering her, leaving her dead and Mark left to revenge himself. Mark and Amy are adventurous folks. In plaid shirts, tattoos and boots, they often discus their combined desire to move to the woods and live off the land, hunting animals with bows and arrows. I laugh whenever they tell me these types of things because I know they're serious.
On the subject of Connecticut, we discuss the punishment these heartless, murdering, child rapists deserve. “Eye for an eye,” I say in all seriousness. Everyone agrees and we all (Amy, Mark, Scott and I) decide that only the absolute worst, fully intended crimes should be faced with this ancient custom of eyes for eyes. Only when the crime is declared guilty beyond a reasonable doubt and the crime is really bad like rape, murder, arson, or child abuse. Then will the criminal be sentenced to the crime he/she has been accused of. For instance, these A-Holes (yes, capital A, capital Holes) in Connecticut, these raping, murdering arsonists would be sentenced to a raping and then a death by flames.
But who, we wonder, should rape the rapists? “Really old people? Because of the age difference between them and the little girls?” Mark suggests and all of our lips curl in disgust. “No!” We tell him. Then someone suggests, “How about big animals?” Then someone yells over the candlelit table, “Bears! A family of bears rapes them! A family of bears that have been trained to rape rapists! Then they are tied up, their bodies set on fire.” Of course, we do not have any representatives from PETA at the table defending the rights of bears while we eat our beef tenderloins and pork chops, but I think our enthusiasm for this idea could recruit even the top executives of PETA.
If a murderer thinks, Mm, if I murder that person by stabbing him fifty-seven times, then I'll be murdered by getting stabbed fifty seven times by a gigantic ape. I think his next thought would be, I'm not gonna stab that guy. Or if an abusive mother knew she’d get an elephant tusk to the face the next time she hit her child, I think she might consider a tamer discipline. I know you’re reciting that the world will go blind, but are you planning to poke anyone's eyes out? I cannot speak for victims. I have never been one, but that doesn’t mean I don’t fear becoming one. Of course, this distorted utopia isn't at all right or realistic, but I think it makes a valid point that just needs some adjustments. We know, of course, that we shouldn't train animals to do our dirty work, but what say you of robots? Raping, murdering robots. Perhaps these are all just future story lines for unnecessarily violent films, comic books or graphic novels, but this robot idea might be worth mulling over. Think about it.
