A Little More Vomiting, Please

I know this sounds a little disgusting...well, OK, a lot disgusting. But bear with me, and I think you’ll understand my point.

I had been thinking about last year’s shootings at the Tree of Life synagogue in Pittsburgh. Actually, I hadn’t. When I first heard about it, I was shaken…not just because of the horror of it, but also because I know people in Pittsburgh. I know that neighborhood. I know people who walked by that synagogue every day. This wasn’t just some “random” mass shooting; this one was almost personal.

Then I found out that it was even more personal than I’d thought. You see, the reason I had been thinking about the Tree of Life murders was because I had just discovered that the doctor of one of the people I know in Pittsburgh was one of those killed that day.

And that got me thinking…it got me thinking about the effects of a murder not just on the family and friends of the one who was killed, but on the rest of the community. The effects on my friend who had lost his doctor. The effects on those who worked at that practice who may now find themselves without jobs. The far-ranging effects that spread much farther than the person who pulled the trigger could’ve imagined when he decided to go on his killing spree. And that got me wondering…

Suppose we felt it when we killed someone?

No…I don’t mean suppose we felt the same pain of the bullet, knife, poison, or whatever. I mean suppose we felt an unbearable, unresolvable pain when we killed someone with malice aforethought. Most of us feel pretty bad when we kill someone accidentally. When Jim Boehiem, the basketball coach at Syracuse University accidentally hit and killed someone walking across the highway at night, he said that this would be with him for the rest of his life. And this was for an unavoidable accident. But suppose you had to live with worse…far worse…after intentionally killing someone?

I read that after witnessing a particular set of Jewish executions, Nazi official Heinrich Himmler vomited. Good. He should’ve. It was the only good thing he did during the Nazi reign of terror. But apparently he got over it. Better he should’ve vomited every time someone had been murdered at his command. Better he, those above him, and those who actually did the dirty work should’ve vomited every half hour for the rest of their lives for each person whose murder they were responsible for.

Suppose we knew this would happen? Suppose we knew that if you killed someone with malice aforethought or even tried to, you had sentenced yourself to a life of endless vomiting? Wouldn’t this be worse than any death penalty we could give them? Wouldn’t this life sentence of vomiting be its own very special hell? Wouldn’t seeing just one person go through this be enough to give pause to anyone else? And of course, in the case of what would now be attempted mass shootings, wouldn’t the vomiting caused by the first death or attempt be enough to stop you in your tracks before you were able to shoot anyone else; and give everyone else a chance to subdue you?

Frankly, I think that if we can’t learn to just get along with each other, we could sure use a lot more vomiting.