To Hell In A Handbasket...

Two students in LA are shot when a loaded gun is dropped and goes off. A psychopath shoots a congresswoman and many others, including a nine-year-old girl too young to have ever hurt anyone significantly. The list goes on.

Is American culture going to hell in a handbasket? I never truly understood the source or full implication of that phrase, but I think the present answer might be yes. The constant violence, much of which occurs mostly because it can, is not new. In fact, the history of the country is fraught with violence. The difference, I think, is the effect and the response that we have to it.

In the violent early years, and even up to the 20th century, people were outraged, and then braced for the inevitable vengeance that followed. Such a response wasn't necessarily the right way to handle the outrage, but at least the offender knew his actions would provoke repercussions. Society at large responded forcefully to the events.

Fast forward to the present reaction. When the students at Columbine wreaked carnage on a system that they felt had served them poorly, cultural response was strong, yet often misguided. Schools ratcheted up the faux security measures to create a lie that told parents their children were safer. They weren't and aren't. Fortunately, schools are still among the safest places in the country, but that safety is not because of improved security measures. Instead, schools remain relatively safe because they rarely provoke the rath of our depressed and mentally ill.

Fast forward to the incidents mentioned at the start of this piece. The focal point of public response to the events in Arizona devolved into fruitless finger pointing. For three days, at least, the most often heard message was that the psycho had been inspired by the vitriolic political environment. Only after the boy had been questioned did the false message die out. In the meantime, Sarah Palin and others had spent energy defending themselves.

The point of this is not to defend Palin, the tenor of the political dialogue, or the irresponsible media who manufactured a catalyst for the violence before they knew anything. Instead, I am convinced that the public largely doesn't care. If they really wanted genuine answers to the questions, they would not be so easily sidetracked into baseless discussions. They wouldn't be so quick to adjust their focus.

I maintain that the fundamental goodness that has usually been omnipressent in the country is no longer so evident. Culturally, we want someone or soemthing to blame, quickly, so we can get back to Jersy Shore, or Celebrity Rehab. Only late in the game did any media outlets start asking the why's and how's of the incident. I can't pinpoint proof, but I also feel that when they did so, they were doing it reluctantly.

Don Henley wrote a song, in the late '80's I believe, where he drew an analogy between a young girl's loss of innocence, and the loss of innocence that citizens in America were experiencing. I loved the song, but wasn't so sure that his contention, that the Reagan era was father to disillusionment, was very accurate. I thought the end of the innocence had to have come during the Vietnam era. Regardless, innocnece, and buoyant optimism certainly was compromised.

Now, however, we aren't talking about innocence. I think the loss we are witnessing is a loss of empathy, of altruism, of humanity. Sure, individuals have exhibited a dearth of these traits, but the culture - society at large - usually responded with at least a modicum of caring. We have become inured to the violence, and to the bankruptcy of values.

Maybe it's me, my age, my inevitable slide into the ranks of the older generation. I don't know. I don't think this is just a personal perception. I am concerned that it's pervasive and ubiquitous. And quite frankly, it scares the hell out of me.