Hate, the book: 126

Hello Curious Friend.  Welcome to my book about Hate.  The number tells you where you are in the sequence.  I look forward to your comments.

Part Three
Chapter Twenty
Order From Chaos    (Continued)

Lots of famous people have already suggested this.

If our student has read Appendix B they know the answer.  If they haven’t, then I can spring the surprise conclusion from this fundamental assumption: No one on that tragic flight was harmed.

The new student will no doubt stare and think this is crazy.  At which point we begin the following explanation.

Death is not harm, it is exactly what it sounds like – death.  Death is the end of a life.  Living entails joy and suffering.  Living means experience and expectations.  Life revolves around love, and in some cases, hate.  When hate results in death, all harm is forgotten for the target.

Pain, expectations, and love are gone.  They no longer exist.  And by our definition, hate is inflicting harm.

If the Germanwings co-pilot wanted to harm himself and those on the plane, he did a poor job of it.  For a few brief moments those poor souls on that plane knew what was coming, and in those moments they probably suffered great harm in the form of mental anguish.

Yet, in the fraction of a second it took the empennage of that aircraft to smash into the cliff, everything they knew was gone.  The terror, grief and pain were erased.  And for the most “fortunate” few who knew nothing, like the infants, there was no harm done.  Their lives were simply over.

No, the co-pilot was not that stupid.  He wanted to harm someone, but it wasn’t the passengers; he didn’t even know them.  No, he possibly wanted to send a message of harm to someone he knew.  Whom did he know?

He once had a girlfriend.  Had, in the sense that she had left him some time earlier.  As a young and presumably deranged man, he must have felt harmed, abandoned, and willing to commit a senseless act to try and win her attention, if not her affection.

Affection?  Yes, affection, for it is a common human frailty to imagine others valuing us more highly “once we are gone.”

How many children have uttered the epithet, “You’ll miss me when I’m gone” as they prepare to run away?  How many of us have imagined, in secret, how others would react in our absence?

Most people, I’d wager.  So yes, unfortunately, our co-pilot’s suicide may have been a desperate response to his failure to realize love.

Is there anyone else he may have been speaking to or addressing?  Could he have been targeting his managers?  Is it possible that he attributed his frustrated love life to how he was being treated by airline management?

After all, Germanwings is a budget feeder airline for parent Lufthansa.  Like most feeder airlines, it does not pay its pilots very well.  It probably also gives them terrible schedules.  And it may not offer much in the way of career advancement.

Some of these perks may be necessary if one is going to have a serious girlfriend.  Therefore, in this poor man’s mind, he may have felt that his management must suffer for what they had done to him.  And what better way to harm them than by creating a tragedy that cost them their reputation and one of their aircraft?

To be continued …

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