In reality I don't get very many letters in response to what I write here, but in my dreams I get more than enough to make up for that.  And almost all of them go something like this:

     "How can you make fun of violence and death by posting stuff like 'Mother Nature Uses Unregistered, Large Caliber Earthquake To Slay 6800+'?  Have you no compassion?  Have you no sense of decency?"

     Indeed, so similar are these letters I get on an almost nightly basis that I suspect that the vast majority of them are being written by my imaginary friend, Hans.  Regardless of what figment or figments of my imagination may actually be responsible, I'd like to reply to these letters here, once and for all, since all my attempts to reply through the US Postal Service have resulted in the envelope being stamped "Too Ridiculous - Return To Sender!" immediately prior to being lost.

     First of all, I am not making fun of violence and death.  I am actually very allergic to violence and death of any sort and have often fainted when confronted by a stranger I thought was about to hit me when all he or she was trying to do was shake my hand.  Indeed, I am so anti-violence that I have begged Eric Clapton repeatedly to change the words of "I Shot The Sheriff" to "I Slapped The Sheriff/But I did not kick his deputy" just to get the ball rolling towards a better, less violent future.
     What I am in fact making fun of is not violence and death but the ways many people seem to perceive and react to violence and death - ways that just don't make sense to me even after I've re-enacted them with my cat, stuffed animals, and a few choice hand puppets countless times.
     For example, the latest Newsweek has a cover story about gun violence.  Inside, a multi-page fold-out spread includes pictures of 14 of the Untied State's most notorious shooters of the last two years.  Altogether, these individuals are responsible for some 50 deaths.  That's terrible.  That's awful.  I'm sorry they died.  I'd bring them back if I could.  But I can't.  And instead of reading this story and believing that feeling bad is the best I can do and saying in some small, secret part of my brain "Yay for me!" for being so empathetic and compassionate, I can't help but think a bit.  It's an old habit I can't seem to break no matter what horror life throws in my face.
     And a moment's thinking tells me that while these individuals killed some 50 people in the last two years, the automobile has killed that many in the last 12 hours.
     And of course Mother Nature killed over 6000 in just a few minutes, just in Turkey, just this week.
     But the automobile never gets its photo slapped on the cover of Newsweek under the headline "America Besieged By Killer Cars!"
     And Mother Nature continues to be seen as this kindly lady in the popular imagination no matter how many times she has one of her "little spells" and wipes out tens of thousands of innocent people.
     Maybe if we had live camcorder coverage of Mother Nature grabbing an Uzi and mowing down those 6000+ in a school, it'd have more of an impact?  But why should our brains have to wait for that?  The victims are just as dead, aren't they?
Why is Nature constantly being given pardons and day passes instead of The Chair?  Why aren't we seeing psychiatrists on TV trying to explain the roots of Her madness?  Maybe it stems from that traumatic Big Bang she suffered in Her infancy?  Maybe she's read one too many "Tough Love" books?
     Whatever Her motives or the source of Her madness, the fact remains that She's One Bad Bitch.  A serial killer for whom Turkey was just one more crime scene.  Remember Her rampage in Oklahoma last May?  Over 40 killed and 10,000 homes destroyed by tornadoes.  Yet Newsweek gave that little escapade a mere 4 pages of coverage in an issue which featured "Star Wars - Episode One" on the cover.  And while we've all seen many, many stories lately about the start of a new school year in Littleton, who has seen coverage of Oklahoma residents struggling to rebuild their lives in the face of a still-unapprehended ill wind?
     Which leaves me with One Big Question: Exactly who is this Psychopathic Moll sleeping with to be getting off so easily?!

     Philosophers used to be a bit less inclined to let Her slide.  In fact, back in the days before Mother Nature acquired Her feminine mystique from the Romantic poets and her Bambi-eyes from Disney, more than one learned person was moved to slap Her cosmos around a little for being so outrageous.
     Just compare the reaction to this week's earthquake to that which followed the one which struck Lisbon on November 1, 1755.
     The churches were crowded to honor the dead on All Saints' Day when that Portuguese city was hit by one of the strongest quakes ever recorded.  There were two great shocks, 40 minutes apart.  What the shaking didn't destroy the bizarrely rising waters of the Tagus River, thrown up by the quake, did their best to demolish as they roared through the city.  Then came the fire.  Between 30,000 and 40,000 people perished in an era without antibiotics or anesthetics.  Some 9,000 buildings came tumbling down in a world without bulldozers or backhoes....
     The impact on the collective consciousness, I'm told, lasted for generations. The the idea that God, the perfect watchmaker, had designed a beautifully balanced universe seems to have become a bit harder to sustain in the face of such discordant ticking. 
     In fact, the whole incident seems to have inspired Voltaire to write his greatest work, Candide, in which he mercilessly lampoons the idea that this is the best of all possible worlds. 
     One paragraph stands out in my mind today as I struggle to come to grips with the horrors of the world around me:

     "After the earthquake had wiped out three quarters of Lisbon, the learned men of the land could find no more effective way of averting total destruction than to give the people a fine auto-da-fé; the University of Coimbra had established that the spectacle of several persons being roasted over a slow fire with full ceremonial rites is an infallible specific against earthquakes."

     A note tells me that Lisbon actually did perform such a ceremonial on June 20, 1756.  History tells me that Lisbon has been remarkably free of deadly seismic activity ever since.
     Makes you stop and think, doesn't it?
     Can it really be a coincidence that our own country has been going straight to Hell ever since the Supreme Court outlawed human sacrifice in the public schools?  I mean, come on - Civil War, the Depression, assassinations, higher theater ticket prices and stickier theater floors.  Nobody can tell me that all these things would've come about exactly as they have if we hadn't ever abandoned the blood sacrifices of our wise forefathers on this continent, the Aztecs!
     That's why I'm urging my elected representatives to pass a constitutional amendment allowing students to start each school day with a minute of silent blood sacrifice.  Not being an extreme Aztec type, I'm not going to insist that the offering be a virgin.  No, no - being a member of the liberal branch of the Aztec religion, I believe any old slave or prisoner of war will do.  Sensitive tykes who can't stand exposure to a bit of religion will of course be allowed to go stand in the hallway during these student-led sacrifices.  They may even cover their ears during the noisier parts.  And rest assured that the slaves and POWs will have no reason to complain since Aztec dogma promises them a real cushy place in heaven.
     Of course it will also be a good idea to hang a portrait of our god, Quetzalcoatl, in every classroom, too.  After all, anything that just might stop Nature from killing again is worth trying, the ACLU be damned.  Those who say that the Constitution mandates religious neutrality and bans such portraits overlook the fact that even after such portraits are hung, the non-belief of atheists will continue to be on display on every blank wall that remains while we are exercising great restraint by not insisting that portraits of our 400+ other Aztec gods be hung as well. 
     So, you see, far from making fun of violence and death, I'm actually doing all I know how to cope with them. 
     Quetzalcoatl willing, you and your kids soon will be, too!