I hate the word closure. It’s become one of those warm, fuzzy words that are supposed to make everything better, and more often than not, it’s nonsense.
I have heard news reporters say, upon the sentencing of some monster that raped and murdered a small child, that now the family will have closure. I’ve heard victims of violence and sexual abuse say they want to face their assailant in court to get closure.
Horsepucky! Do you really think you can just close an emotional door on some terrible event and get on with life like it never happened?
When I was sixteen years old, my older brother was robbed and murdered in front of his wife and children. It was a crime that devastated my parents until their dying days. Knowing that the teenage punk who pulled the trigger was sent to a reformatory didn’t give them closure. And when he was released from custody upon his eighteenth birthday, there was no closure either. Nor when he was sent back to prison, this time for life, for murdering his own mother! What kind of closure can you get in a situation like that? Maybe closing the door on the gas chamber behind him would be nice, but it wouldn’t bring my brother back.
I’ve heard of Vietnam vets going back there to get closure. I think if I ever went back, which I never would, all I’d do is come away more upset than I was when I was there the first time. It would be like when I want to the Wall in Washington D.C. and saw so many of my friends’ names etched into those black slabs. I didn’t feel closure. I was just pissed off that so many fine young men died for nothing, and we didn’t change a thing in that cesspool of a country.
But the most asinine thing I’ve heard yet was some airhead from one of the animal rights groups who was protesting ex-con Michael Vick’s return to pro football. She felt that before Vick should be allowed to play, he should visit the dogs he owned that have been placed with new homes, look them in the eyes and apologize, because it would help give the animals closure.
Give me a break! Closure? They’re dogs! They eat, they crap, they sleep, and then they start the process all over again. I don’t think one of them is off his Alpo because Daddy went to jail and didn’t send him a Christmas card.
I’ve had some damn good dogs in my time, and a couple that were smarter than a lot of people I know. But they were still animals. If I walked out the door and never came back, they’d have loved the next guy who came along and fed them and scratched their bellies just as much as they did me.
Personally, I think Michael Vick is the real animal, and they should have just fed him to his pit bulls. Now that would be closure!
Tags: animal rights groups, assailant, close an emotional door, closure, ex-con Michael Vick, gas chamber, jail, news reporters, pit bulls, pro football, raped and murdered a small child, reformatory, robbed and murdered, sexual abuse, teenage punk, victims of violence, Vietnam Veterans Memorial, Vietnam vets, warm fuzzy words, Washington D.C.