Thursday, February 14, 2013

Nurse the Hate: Reign of Terror

Were you as disappointed as I was that Christopher Dorner’s “reign of terror” ended as meekly as it did yesterday?  As we have been taught via Sylvester Stallone in each Rambo movie, Dorner should have emerged from the burning cabin.  He should have blown up lots of police cars, and in the end been vindicated as being right all along.  The System would have been proven wrong, villains would have been killed in spectacular fashion, and he would have just driven away with the smoldering ruins in his rearview.  All those people in his manifesto would have met horrible and ironic ends, each one of them justifiable.  His arch nemesis would have dynamite strapped to his face, and then when it went off Dorner could mutter “Don’t lose your head…” as he walked off calmly without even glancing at the explosion.  Man, this thing didn’t end like the movies at all.  How did it all turn out so wrong? 

First of all, I love the fact that everyone started to call it a “reign of terror”.  It has such a ring to it.  I heard the word “rampage” thrown around, but that isn’t nearly as good as “reign of terror”, is it?  In fact, I am so jealous that I might start my own “reign of terror”.  It seems like the thing to do.  I do have an issue.  I don’t have any real training.  Well, I have that scuba training, but can you really launch a “reign of terror” underwater?  I guess I could drill a hole in a sailboat, but that would be under the wild assumption that I could properly operate a drill underwater.  I’m not sure if I could use a drill in a workshop with highly trained home repair experts looking on, much less underwater by myself.  Plus, with scuba tanks limiting me to an hour or so, how much of a “reign of terror” can you have in 60 minutes?  Is slowly sinking a pleasure boat really a “reign of terror”? 

I could see taking part in a “rampage”.  That would include me laughing maniacally while lighting lots of stuff on fire.  I foresee a lot of people screaming and running for their lives as I had a look of angry joy on my face.  I would definitely throw my head back and laugh as the chaos enveloped me.  I do have an issue with this plan though.  I don’t really want to hurt anyone or ruin anyone’s property.  I don’t really want to bother anyone.  That is going to make it hard for me to be fully committed to this “rampage”.  

Dorner was totally committed.  I really appreciate the fact that Dorner typed out a 20 page letter outlining his thought process.  To have it referred to as his “manifesto” is the best part.  Why can’t I stay focused enough to go into a cabin in the woods, put foil over all the windows, and crank out page after page of madness that I announce as “my manifesto”?  I think it’s a lack of commitment on my part, and I apologize to you for that.  I would think I would do a very good job as a kook with a manifesto.  I would say things like, “If you would have taken the trouble to read my manifesto, you would know that the US Government has covered up black ops in Michigan for years.”.  I would point to the manifesto as a living breathing document of paramount importance.  I would bind it and carry it in a backpack, waving it around in public places as I was shoved out into the street by annoyed shopkeepers.  That’s the life for me!  

Well, it’s over now though.  While the news outlets run with their “what the hell happened was this” stories, I think I am going to go another direction.  I am going to believe a conspiracy theory.  That is always so much more fun.  I will choose to believe that Dorner faked his own death, planted a body with fake ID, and his now running wild in the woods armed to the teeth ready to continue this “rampage” until the real criminals are finally brought to vigilante justice.  Yes, I know that this will require not just a small effort to ignore the facts of this event such as he probably had a psychotic break, was delusional, and got burned up in that cabin.  Don’t ruin it for me though.  As a “reign of terror” enthusiast, I need to accept the fact that I am a spectator and not a participant.


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