Murder or Suicide
October 4th 2006 01:00
Murder n: Unlawful premeditated killing of a human being.
Suicide n: The act of killing yourself.
Pretty simple aren’t they? Right to the point, clear and concise.
If only the world was as black and white as this.
If it were we could end all starvation and poverty in the world over night.
Crimes could be solved in minutes.
I wouldn’t be writing this.
The Question
When does Murder become Suicide?
A story of possible suicide;
As these things go it was quite a small event. Well. I say “quite a small event”, but as is often the case this is a subjective view. For Victor the event was seen as the end of his life and therefore was not considered “small”, nor even “quite small”.
It might help to view Victor as a snowflake, high in a cloud above the mountains. Yes, I think a snowflake is a good simile. The snowflake I have in mind is the one that floats on the wind for days, only to settle on a drift of snow, high on the side of a mountain. You know, the snowflake that precipitates the avalanche that wipes out an entire valley of happy holiday makers and the tourist village that has been there for four hundred years. Well Victor was an unemployed fitter and turner. When he had a job he took great pride in what he did. As an unemployed person he was proud of his ability to survive on the pittance served up by the government of the day.
Yes, Victor looked for work. The trouble was that he was fifty-two years old. Several years went by, as well as countless job interviews. Petrol prices were rising. Driving up the cost of living. Eroding Victor’s life style. Eventually it got to the point where Victor began to resent his position in life. More to the point he resented those, who, he felt, were working to destroy him.
As costs went up Victor had to cut back on those little extras that made life bearable. You know, little things like food. One day after paying the phone bill, the car’s registration and the prescription for his heart condition he found that he had just eighty dollars to feed himself and his wife for the next fortnight and changes to his social security payments meant he had to drive seventy kilometres to do work for the dole three days a week. That eighty dollars wasn’t going to go very far.
It was at this point that our snowflake landed on that snowdrift high in the mountains. It is interesting to note that the village in the valley was named Candibarra. In the language of the local tribes Candibarra meant “Place of Bad Spirits”.
As we all know these things start slowly. But once started there can only be one outcome.
The staff at Centerlink were impressed with Victor’s drive to improve his chances of employment. After all there is always work for locksmiths. But it was his willingness to move to Candibarra to take the job of cleaning air conditioning towers that convinced Centerlink that Victor was really a keen job seeker.
Victor also started on a new hobby. He would take up bench-rest shooting. Now because he was sliding towards destitution he had to build his own bench rig.
He started with the axle out of a tractor. This was 75mm in diameter. It made a great barrel for the job Victor had in mind. There was a lot of scrounging to be done. This was not a sport for poor people. The scope alone could cost over a thousand dollars. Victor found a very nice ex-military gun sight at a surplus store. It fit very nicely under his coat when he left the shop. The shops owner never even missed it until he saw the picture in the newspapers. But by then it was too late.
The army was also a bit lax about their accounting as they did not miss the 500 rounds of fifty cal ammo from their storage facility at Bendigo.
Cleaning air conditioning towers was a dirty job. And under the new industrial relations laws Victor was putting in 50-60 hours a week with no penalty rates. He didn’t care though. After all his job gave him splendid views from all the highest vantage points around Candibarra.
When Victor wasn’t working he spent a lot of time in his shed. The hand loading of ammunition was an art. And the development of 50 Cal hollow points was time consuming. Then chance played a hand. Victor, in a lapse of attention, drilled one of the bullets a bit too deep. The thought occurred that if he filled the cavity with gun powder, fitted a primer on top of that, then a ball bearing on top of the primer he might just have an exploding projectile.
You know how it is, late at night these things seem to make sense. Any way next thing he new he had fifty rounds of these bullets
.
PRIME MINISTER ASSASSINATED
At 11:57AM EST the Prime Minister was assassinated as he was power walking before going to his office. Eye witnesses said that it was as if his head exploded. Police are at a loss to explain what happened. One theory put forward is that the Prime Minister was shot. There was a report of a possible gunshot, but this has been discounted as the report put the position of the gunshot almost a mile away...
Question
Is this a case of murder, or could it be considered a suicide?
Before you jump to a conclusion consider what has happened.
1. A person who was very good at his job was, well there is no nice way of saying it, dumped on the scrap heap of unwanted humanity under the guise of a free trade agreement in which the prime minister allowed Victors job to be exported to China.
2. New industrial relations laws allowed the exploitation of the work force resulting in many honest hard working people being forced into destitution, loss of their homes and degrading work places.
3. Changes to the social security payments for no better reason than punitive action against people who, after being put out of work by items one and/or two, refused to have the good grace to crawl into a hole and die.
Or perhaps this could be a case of murdre:
As I climb the steps to my local Social Security, office I’m seething.
I’m sick of those threatening letters that they send out. I’m not a child. I’m aware of my responsibilities in regards to receiving unemployment benefits.
Mounting the second last step I look down to see a twelve gauge shot gun cartridge. I pick it up and put it in my pocket. Well this puts a new slant on my visit to Centrelink for sure. Is the owner of this ammunition still inside? Does he have a gun? I continue on inside and sit down, waiting to be called for my appointment. Sitting there I listen for raised voices or signs of alarm. ‘Martin Bael’ a young man calls. I jump up and he leads me to a desk behind the counter. Sitting down I slip my hand into my coat. The young man sits on the other side of the desk and says ‘The reason we asked you down is that you are over fifty years old. . . ’
‘What! You send me a letter threatening to take my payment away if I don’t show up just to tell me I’m over fifty? It’s a bloody hundred and forty kilometer round trip for me to get here.
The office erupts into chaos as a gun goes off, the young man opposite me falls over backwards in a spray of blood. I jump up and turn around to see where the shot came from only to see the woman at the next desk fall to the floor as another shot reverberates through the building. I can’t see the shooter and make a dash for the front of the office. People are falling to the floor all around me as I try to escape. A man with a beard at the front counter falls dead at my feet. I don’t need this. I turn and run for the back of the building expecting to be shot at any moment. I jump across a desk, hit the floor and roll back under the desk. It all goes quiet, then a moan from somewhere, a voice rings out, keep down, the police are on the way. We wait as the sirens get closer. Then the police are entering the building. I look over the top of the desk and see an officer and the safety of the police line. I jump up and make a dash for it only to see the nearest officer fall to the floor as blood pools around a wound in his leg. Then I’m hit from behind and fall to the floor.
This afternoon a man wielding a sawn off semi-automatic shot gun killed three and wounded several others including a police officer at the social security office. The shooting followed an argument with staff after the man was told that the reason for his being called to the office was to inform him that he was over fifty years of age.
Patterns
Is it possible that there is a pattern emerging here?
Can it be that some people are so blind to the plight of their fellow man that those who only need a bit of compassion become nothing more than pawns in a game.
Is political assassination murder or just the suicide of a bastard with no social conscience.
Well, in the first instance a very good case could be made for suicide. The prime minister put in place a system that lead directly to his own death.
In the second instance it could be a clear cut case of murder. The prime minister put in place a system based on threats and punishment hidden behind the name of “Social Security”.
This system was introduced intentionally and with premeditation resulting in the unlawful killing of no less than four people. There was nothing “Social” about it and there was no “Security” at all. The prime minister is responsible for these deaths.
Why?
Why indeed?
Well, to understand why such things could happen we have to look at what we do as a democracy.
Democracy; noun: A political system in which the supreme power lies in a body of citizens who can elect people to represent them.
As a democratic nation we elect a group of “Public Servants” to administer our governance of our nation. These public servants are known as “Politicians”
Politician; noun: A leader engaged in civil administration.
or
Politician; noun: A schemer who tries to gain advantage in an organization in sly or underhanded ways.
Which one did you vote for?
You see, the sad truth is that all too often “Politicians” forget that they are public servants and come to believe that they are the “Government”.
They forget that they were elected by the “Government of a Democracy”. And in case you don’t recognise the “Government of a Democracy” it is you. You are the government. The people you elect are the public servants. Your public servants.
I ask you again, which type of politician did you vote for?
The leader engaged in civil administration or the schemer who tries to gain advantage in an organization in sly or underhanded ways.
Suicide n: The act of killing yourself.
Pretty simple aren’t they? Right to the point, clear and concise.
If only the world was as black and white as this.
If it were we could end all starvation and poverty in the world over night.
Crimes could be solved in minutes.
I wouldn’t be writing this.
The Question
When does Murder become Suicide?
A story of possible suicide;
As these things go it was quite a small event. Well. I say “quite a small event”, but as is often the case this is a subjective view. For Victor the event was seen as the end of his life and therefore was not considered “small”, nor even “quite small”.
It might help to view Victor as a snowflake, high in a cloud above the mountains. Yes, I think a snowflake is a good simile. The snowflake I have in mind is the one that floats on the wind for days, only to settle on a drift of snow, high on the side of a mountain. You know, the snowflake that precipitates the avalanche that wipes out an entire valley of happy holiday makers and the tourist village that has been there for four hundred years. Well Victor was an unemployed fitter and turner. When he had a job he took great pride in what he did. As an unemployed person he was proud of his ability to survive on the pittance served up by the government of the day.
Yes, Victor looked for work. The trouble was that he was fifty-two years old. Several years went by, as well as countless job interviews. Petrol prices were rising. Driving up the cost of living. Eroding Victor’s life style. Eventually it got to the point where Victor began to resent his position in life. More to the point he resented those, who, he felt, were working to destroy him.
As costs went up Victor had to cut back on those little extras that made life bearable. You know, little things like food. One day after paying the phone bill, the car’s registration and the prescription for his heart condition he found that he had just eighty dollars to feed himself and his wife for the next fortnight and changes to his social security payments meant he had to drive seventy kilometres to do work for the dole three days a week. That eighty dollars wasn’t going to go very far.
It was at this point that our snowflake landed on that snowdrift high in the mountains. It is interesting to note that the village in the valley was named Candibarra. In the language of the local tribes Candibarra meant “Place of Bad Spirits”.
As we all know these things start slowly. But once started there can only be one outcome.
The staff at Centerlink were impressed with Victor’s drive to improve his chances of employment. After all there is always work for locksmiths. But it was his willingness to move to Candibarra to take the job of cleaning air conditioning towers that convinced Centerlink that Victor was really a keen job seeker.
Victor also started on a new hobby. He would take up bench-rest shooting. Now because he was sliding towards destitution he had to build his own bench rig.
He started with the axle out of a tractor. This was 75mm in diameter. It made a great barrel for the job Victor had in mind. There was a lot of scrounging to be done. This was not a sport for poor people. The scope alone could cost over a thousand dollars. Victor found a very nice ex-military gun sight at a surplus store. It fit very nicely under his coat when he left the shop. The shops owner never even missed it until he saw the picture in the newspapers. But by then it was too late.
The army was also a bit lax about their accounting as they did not miss the 500 rounds of fifty cal ammo from their storage facility at Bendigo.
Cleaning air conditioning towers was a dirty job. And under the new industrial relations laws Victor was putting in 50-60 hours a week with no penalty rates. He didn’t care though. After all his job gave him splendid views from all the highest vantage points around Candibarra.
When Victor wasn’t working he spent a lot of time in his shed. The hand loading of ammunition was an art. And the development of 50 Cal hollow points was time consuming. Then chance played a hand. Victor, in a lapse of attention, drilled one of the bullets a bit too deep. The thought occurred that if he filled the cavity with gun powder, fitted a primer on top of that, then a ball bearing on top of the primer he might just have an exploding projectile.
You know how it is, late at night these things seem to make sense. Any way next thing he new he had fifty rounds of these bullets
.
PRIME MINISTER ASSASSINATED
At 11:57AM EST the Prime Minister was assassinated as he was power walking before going to his office. Eye witnesses said that it was as if his head exploded. Police are at a loss to explain what happened. One theory put forward is that the Prime Minister was shot. There was a report of a possible gunshot, but this has been discounted as the report put the position of the gunshot almost a mile away...
Question
Is this a case of murder, or could it be considered a suicide?
Before you jump to a conclusion consider what has happened.
1. A person who was very good at his job was, well there is no nice way of saying it, dumped on the scrap heap of unwanted humanity under the guise of a free trade agreement in which the prime minister allowed Victors job to be exported to China.
2. New industrial relations laws allowed the exploitation of the work force resulting in many honest hard working people being forced into destitution, loss of their homes and degrading work places.
3. Changes to the social security payments for no better reason than punitive action against people who, after being put out of work by items one and/or two, refused to have the good grace to crawl into a hole and die.
Or perhaps this could be a case of murdre:
As I climb the steps to my local Social Security, office I’m seething.
I’m sick of those threatening letters that they send out. I’m not a child. I’m aware of my responsibilities in regards to receiving unemployment benefits.
Mounting the second last step I look down to see a twelve gauge shot gun cartridge. I pick it up and put it in my pocket. Well this puts a new slant on my visit to Centrelink for sure. Is the owner of this ammunition still inside? Does he have a gun? I continue on inside and sit down, waiting to be called for my appointment. Sitting there I listen for raised voices or signs of alarm. ‘Martin Bael’ a young man calls. I jump up and he leads me to a desk behind the counter. Sitting down I slip my hand into my coat. The young man sits on the other side of the desk and says ‘The reason we asked you down is that you are over fifty years old. . . ’
‘What! You send me a letter threatening to take my payment away if I don’t show up just to tell me I’m over fifty? It’s a bloody hundred and forty kilometer round trip for me to get here.
The office erupts into chaos as a gun goes off, the young man opposite me falls over backwards in a spray of blood. I jump up and turn around to see where the shot came from only to see the woman at the next desk fall to the floor as another shot reverberates through the building. I can’t see the shooter and make a dash for the front of the office. People are falling to the floor all around me as I try to escape. A man with a beard at the front counter falls dead at my feet. I don’t need this. I turn and run for the back of the building expecting to be shot at any moment. I jump across a desk, hit the floor and roll back under the desk. It all goes quiet, then a moan from somewhere, a voice rings out, keep down, the police are on the way. We wait as the sirens get closer. Then the police are entering the building. I look over the top of the desk and see an officer and the safety of the police line. I jump up and make a dash for it only to see the nearest officer fall to the floor as blood pools around a wound in his leg. Then I’m hit from behind and fall to the floor.
This afternoon a man wielding a sawn off semi-automatic shot gun killed three and wounded several others including a police officer at the social security office. The shooting followed an argument with staff after the man was told that the reason for his being called to the office was to inform him that he was over fifty years of age.
Patterns
Is it possible that there is a pattern emerging here?
Can it be that some people are so blind to the plight of their fellow man that those who only need a bit of compassion become nothing more than pawns in a game.
Is political assassination murder or just the suicide of a bastard with no social conscience.
Well, in the first instance a very good case could be made for suicide. The prime minister put in place a system that lead directly to his own death.
In the second instance it could be a clear cut case of murder. The prime minister put in place a system based on threats and punishment hidden behind the name of “Social Security”.
This system was introduced intentionally and with premeditation resulting in the unlawful killing of no less than four people. There was nothing “Social” about it and there was no “Security” at all. The prime minister is responsible for these deaths.
Why?
Why indeed?
Well, to understand why such things could happen we have to look at what we do as a democracy.
Democracy; noun: A political system in which the supreme power lies in a body of citizens who can elect people to represent them.
As a democratic nation we elect a group of “Public Servants” to administer our governance of our nation. These public servants are known as “Politicians”
Politician; noun: A leader engaged in civil administration.
or
Politician; noun: A schemer who tries to gain advantage in an organization in sly or underhanded ways.
Which one did you vote for?
You see, the sad truth is that all too often “Politicians” forget that they are public servants and come to believe that they are the “Government”.
They forget that they were elected by the “Government of a Democracy”. And in case you don’t recognise the “Government of a Democracy” it is you. You are the government. The people you elect are the public servants. Your public servants.
I ask you again, which type of politician did you vote for?
The leader engaged in civil administration or the schemer who tries to gain advantage in an organization in sly or underhanded ways.
| 24 |
| Vote |
Subscribe to this blog
