I shalt not kill
“The way my body surprises me with the knowledge it would kill to protect him,” I lied. It shocked a friend who had been previously impressed by my rectitude in opposing killing. I lied, I told him, but I think, though he believed, he’d lost some respect for me.
With the birth of my son, my body surprised me with the knowledge I would do anything to protect him. My expansiveness demanded that I try on the pose of killer, so I did. It wore me down. I couldn’t wear it. I am not that. I don’t believe in it.
Only in movies are we confronted with the choice, kill this person, or your child dies. Real life is never so obvious or restricted. I wondered if there were any children aboard United Airlines Flight 93, but there weren’t. I can’t believe that my son, in danger, would be better served by me attempting to kill, rather than any other course of action. My imagination denies the utility of killing.
Stay with him. Keep him safe. No matter what. I feel it in my bones.
It is wrong to kill, and if the day comes when I do kill, I know it will still be wrong. It’s like torture, it should never be sanctioned. If it is really that imperative it should be done, then the conscience will take on that burden.
By Richard, 3 hours, 36 minutes after the fact
Thoughts:
Would you die for your him? (currently re-watching Bab5)
Would that lessen with the next child?
Do you have a new perspective on the “think of the children” argument?
By David Golding, 6 hours, 33 minutes after the fact
Dying for your child is something that happens. Every couple of years I hear about a parent who died trying to save their child from drowning. But I don’t think this is the Babylon 5 sense that you are asking.
As for the “think of the children” “argument”, I have neither a new perspective for the world nor myself.