I’m going to go off- topic to make some observations ;
I often hear it said, " hey, you cannot compare this to the Third Reich or to the Soviet Union; we aren’t shooting people down in the streets, or shoving them into ovens, we don’t have slave labor camps or massive hate rallies. "
Well, in that narrow sense, I would have to AGREE.
But then…
The other day a little girl was raped and murdered. It was on T.V. , it was in the newspaper, you could not avoid hearing about it even if you wished NOT to hear about it.
Her photograph, for which her surviving relations were not paid royalties ( that Walsh guy on “America’s Most Wanted” seems, though, to have done pretty well off his sons death, as he is WEARING the equivalent of my yearly wages. ) was sandwiched between advertisements for cheeseburgers and SUV’s.
Men whose job it is to put human beings in cages for driving cars without tax stamps claimed to cry over her… even though they did not know her.
Who was she ? Pick a name or face at random, because this is a regular ritual, because the same thing happened last week, last month, last year, year after year. Only the name and face changes. What society was ever so savagely depraved that it used the corpses of little girls, and fear, to sell products and fatten state budgets?
In comparison, the gladiatorial games in the Roman colliseum seem elegantly civilised, seem quaintly restrained.
In relation to that, I have done a lot of walking in my life, because I have often been without a car. Now, granted, I have never actively hitch-hiked. I feel that if I can walk I should - and I am painfully shy. But if someone stops and offers me a ride I think it would be ingratious and egregiously uncharitable in pre-judging a stranger, and cowardly, to refuse the gift.
So I have been going for rides since I was ten.
I am now 38 years old. Now I don’t doubt that it happens that human sharks cruise around picking up pedestrians and killing them. But to hear these people talk , psychopaths are stacked ten- deep on the sidewalks.
So how come I’m 38 years old? How come I’m not dead? I haven’t met that serial killer yet, what I have lost count of is the amount of gas expended by strangers to no apparent gain just to spare me a 45 minute walk.
And I have noticed that it is never those paragons of virtue in Mercedes-Benz’s or those would-be Virgin Mary’s in minivans who offer you a ride, it is always those losers, those muddled marginal sad- sacks in the rusted -out economy- sized Datsun pickup trucks with a two day growth of beard who offer you a ride because of some passage in the Bible that they didn’t even read but only heard about.
Second observation; I never cease to be puzzled by the crude, clumsy, amatuerishness of shooting people down in the streets, or slave labor camps.
Let’s just address the shooting ;
What exactly are you doing when you shoot someone?
Anyone over the age of 35 ( though I realised this when I was 12, and I’m rather dim-witted ) knows that all this talk about the virtue of age is nonsense. What a long life primarily seems to give us is more time to fashion the rope to hang ourselves.
So, when you kill someone, you are unnecessarily lightening Gods workload, and likely frustrating the Byzantine machinations of Lucifer. I.e., when you kill someone you are most likely sending them to heaven that much sooner.
All of which leads us to the conclusion ; to kill a man is far, far, from the worst thing I know of to do to a man.
I can think of MUCH WORSE things to do to you.

And, as I said, I’m not particularly bright either.
So, as I have said in other posts elsewhere, the most diabolically evil and deceptive people you will ever meet are pretty, popular, and affluent, and it is entirely possible and plausible that a slave labor camp could be a comfortable and rather pleasant place.
And now I’ll shut up.