It is Never my Fault

by Regis Boff

Our hatreds have become a specific and valuable form of entertainment to us. None of us want to be dissuaded about who is to blame. Because this is fun. Wars start because people are having a good time despising one another. Eventually, the first killings are nearly orgiastic for some and no one cares to speculate on what is coming until it can’t be stopped. Then the fun stops.
We compete with each other to be sadder and to be more righteously indignant about the causes. Curious how the causes never start with us.