The Wrong People are Dead

At the beginning of the pandemic, when COVID ended the life of brilliant singer/songwriter John Prine, I posted the following to social media: “The wrong people are dead.” My comment was a paraphrase of a line from comedian George Carlin, who famously said, “The wrong two Beatles are dead.” (One of the few times I disagreed with old George, who would be having a field day in today’s political and social climate.)

But the prigs and scolds and holier-than-thou “friends” I’ve somehow managed to accumulate during my 10-plus years on Facebook, Twitter and the like, were quick to point out that wishing death on anyone is a sin.

“Really,” I countered, “what about bin Laden? Kim from North Korea? Putin? Hitler back in the day?” No one came back with a snappy response.

I was reminded of that episode recently with the death of TV preacher and erstwhile Presidential candidate Pat Robertson, who spent a lifetime ignoring Jesus’ teachings while fleecing countless old ladies out of their Social Security checks via his Christian Broadcasting Network. I can recall how Pat always blamed “the gays” for God’s retribution every time an earthquake or forest fire struck California. Meanwhile, he fell strangely silent when similar natural calamities befell his native Virginia.

Is the world better off without this religious charlatan and hatemonger? I unapologetically vote YES. If that makes me a sinner, so be it.

Nearly 100 years ago, legendary attorney Clarence Darrow, best known as the defender of evolution in what became known as the Scopes Monkey Trial, said, “I have never killed anyone, but I have read some obituary notices with great satisfaction.”

To which I can only add, “and a little happy dance.”