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Stop promoting social dysfunction

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By John Pawlak

 Nearly two and half million people die each year in the United States. The causes of death vary from accidental (e.g., falling, car accidents) to medical (e.g., heart attacks, strokes, cancer) to intentional (e.g., murder, suicide). With 280 people dying every hour of every day, only a handful of them get national attention.
 But some people who do deserve having their names known are discarded onto the back burners of media focus. Consider the following “unimportant” people.
 Colton Wade Smith was two years old when he died. His parents described him as a “free spirit.” Kelly Fleming was 16 years old when she died. She loved music and aspired to be a writer.
 Private First Class Francheska Velez was 21 years old and pregnant. Both she and her baby died.
 Christina Taylor Green was 9 years old when she died. She was born on 9/11/2001 and was one of the 50 9/11 babies featured in “Faces of Hope,” a book of births on 9/11/2001.
 Jessica Ghawi was 24 when she died. She was studying to be a sportscaster. Dylan Hockley was 6 years old, a true vision of cuteness.
 And Martin William Richard was 8 years old when he died. And already a Boston Bruins fan!
 You probably don’t recognize the names above, nor would you recognize their faces. After all, you didn’t see their faces on the news every day.
 But you certainly would recognize the social sphincter who bombed the Oklahoma federal building, killing toddler Colton and 167 other people.
 And you would recognize the social sphincters, who killed Kelly and twelve others in the Columbine shootings.
 Likewise, you probably know the social sphincter who killed Francheska and twelve others at the Fort Hood shooting.
 And the social sphincter who killed Christina and five others at the Tuscon Arizona shooting.
 And the social sphincter who shot and killed Jessica and 11 others at the Aurora movie theater. And the social sphincter who killed Dylan and 25 others at the Newtown Elementary School shooting.
 And no doubt, you would recognize the faces of the two social sphincters who set off bombs at the Boston Marathon, killing Martin and two others, and wounding 264 people.
 How can you not? The media drowns us with images of these social sphincters. And that’s what they are. Social sphincters.
 I refuse to mention their names. I would rather just give them numbers. Social Sphincter number one. Social Sphincter number two. Social Sphincter number three.
 For example, Social Sphincter number 36x kidnapped, imprisoned, and raped three women for over a decade. Who really wants to know his name? Or see his face? Or listen to what he has to say?
 Why does the media inundate us with their faces, their life stories, their opinions, their day to day actions?
 Rolling Stone magazine irritated a lot of people by putting Social Sphincter number nine’s picture on their front cover, a “Jim Morrison” style rendition of a mental defective who thought that bombing marathon runners was a clever way to make a statement.
 Yeah, he made a statement. He said loud and clear, “I’m a social sphincter!”
 That’s the only way we should refer to these people. We should refuse to air their pictures or mention their names.
 Why is Social Sphincter number two known to most everyone, but no one recognizes Colton Wade Smith’s name? 168 people died anonymous deaths in Oklahoma at the hand of that social sphincter, and we keep seeing his moronic face on the History Channel.
 I’ve lost count of how many times Social Sphincter number one has been interviewed on TV or in magazines. With a Nazi tattoo on his forehead, he spouts out Helter Skelter philosophy from that cesspool he calls a mouth.
 How about interviewing relatives of the victims, like the Frykowski family? Or Folger’s family?
 How about showing the faces of the victims, learning about their lives, their hopes and dreams?
 Sad, when the next social sphincter murders a dozen people, I can guarantee that you’ll see his smiling face on every magazine and television station in the country.
 And that is the worst crime of all.