Moral and Social Decay

As if the upcoming election hasn’t been enough to stir emotions up. Listening to some rather creative statements about the state of affairs in our country, and the self-administered accolades of the current administration’s performance dripping with so much literary licence that it poses a slip hazard, or irregular landing, and watching the bought and paid for media outlets gleefully propagate messaging that anyone with even the slightest bit of knowledge could poke holes big enough to vent all the evil carbon dioxide from our atmosphere into the deepest and darkest corners of the universe, where, I’m almost convinced, far too many people seem content to park their cognitive reasoning capabilities as they mindlessly lap it up, is enough to depress the happiest of souls.

Then came the murder of Devan Selvey.

Not since the murder of Tim Bosma has the community so publicly rallied together to support not only the family of the victim, but also each other, in the wake of such horrific crimes that few still can’t process how they could have possibly happened here, in our neighbourhoods, in our backyards. While it IS shocking and upsetting, it seems that complacency, on so many fronts and on so many issues has left far too many people with a false sense of invincibility and a false sense of security. It is impossible, in far too many cases, to convince people that we really do reap what we sow, and to get them to project down the path we’re on to some horrifying outcomes. This, despite several current and recent past examples of where what is currently masquerading as Liberalism leads. Is this case a direct result of both policy and the social norms that have both demanded them and then been fostered by them? Probably not, but policy and the expectations set don’t help.

There are many tangents to possibly veer wildly off on at this point, but I’ll refrain. I’ve commented on those before, and will again, but not here, and not now.

I sat in front of the TV last night, watching coverage of the vigil being held for the young Mr. Selvey and was again, filled with so many emotions.

There was the shock, of course, still very much at the surface, even after so many days of hearing details trickle out.

There was anger. How is it that evil incarnate is allowed to dwell among us with no effective measures of preventing escalations to the point of brutal murder being implemented or even available? What kinds of people are these that would premeditate an attack on a 14 year old? What goes on in their minds where murder is somehow rationalized as a justifiable end? What of the parents of the accused? Did they recognize the warning signs? Did they seek help, and if so, were they turned away? If not, why not? Or did they, like so many people, especially some of our political leaders, put their heads in the sand and rock themselves to sleep, clinging to the delusional belief that these things will balance themselves? How would I have reacted if it was my child being murdered? How would I have reacted if it was my child murdering another?

Most of all, however, there was a deep sorrow. A young life snuffed out, for reasons that we may never fully know or understand. Other young lives ruined by what will surely be the aftermath of murder convictions. Familes left with wounds that will never heal but may become more comfortably numb over the passage of time. So much tragedy, and this is but one of countless similar cases that have all the mallmarks of potentially reaching the same outcome.

During my senate testimony, I opined that C-71, along with most proposed gun control measures, misses the mark completely on issues affecting a reduction of violence since it is based on the false pretense of the availability of firearms as being an enabling and catalytic factor in the manifestation of violence. I suggested that what we are seeing is the result of the cumulative effects of moral and social decay. I think the Selvey case clearly demonstrates that. The perpetrators did not use firearms to commit their heinous act.

Can you imagine how different the conversations would be, though, if they had?