No Honor
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They are not "honor" killings.
If we can re-brand the estate tax as the "death tax" and pulling our troops out of another country's civil war a "surrender" and tax increases as "revenue enhancements" then we can surely stop referring to these sickening murders as "honor killings." The people who perpetrate them have no honor, no humanity, and no soul.
It should perhaps be called, "psychopathic sororicide."
When will the madness end? These murders take place every day, and the rarity for this one was that it was caught on cell phone camera. And watched by police, who did nothing. Only later were the perpetrators arrested. We can at least hope that they will get more than a slap on the wrist.
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Separately:
I was just at the Los Angeles consulate of a small Central American country to get some papers stamped. The consulate was one of many offices in a old run-down office building near downtown LA. I was interested to see that the signage in and around the building was primarily in Spanish, and in the parking garage elevator, everyone was speaking Spanish, and in a fairly active elevator lobby and ground floor retail area, I was literally the only gringo, sticking out like a sore thumb.
Hearing no English whatsoever and a lot of Spanish on the elevator up to the consulate caused me to be concerned that I wouldn't be able to communicate. My concern heightened when I got into the consulate, and the woman behind the counter was talking in rapid-fire Spanish to the woman in front of me. I was worried I was going to have to try my pathetic Spanish on the woman behind the counter...but fortunately, she saw I was helpless gringo and asked me in English how she could help; she was very friendly and her English was good.
The waiting room of the consulate was remarkable. Jerry Springer was blasting from an old TV set in the corner and the furniture was "run-down 70's schlock." It was a far cry from the French Consulate which was in our old office building in Westwood. But you know what? I will take the friendly and low-key consulate I was in today anytime over the elegant furniture and the haughty folks occupying the French consulate in Los Angeles. It was almost like the French folks tried to be haughty to live up to their reputation.
If we can re-brand the estate tax as the "death tax" and pulling our troops out of another country's civil war a "surrender" and tax increases as "revenue enhancements" then we can surely stop referring to these sickening murders as "honor killings." The people who perpetrate them have no honor, no humanity, and no soul.
It should perhaps be called, "psychopathic sororicide."
When will the madness end? These murders take place every day, and the rarity for this one was that it was caught on cell phone camera. And watched by police, who did nothing. Only later were the perpetrators arrested. We can at least hope that they will get more than a slap on the wrist.
********************
Separately:
I was just at the Los Angeles consulate of a small Central American country to get some papers stamped. The consulate was one of many offices in a old run-down office building near downtown LA. I was interested to see that the signage in and around the building was primarily in Spanish, and in the parking garage elevator, everyone was speaking Spanish, and in a fairly active elevator lobby and ground floor retail area, I was literally the only gringo, sticking out like a sore thumb.
Hearing no English whatsoever and a lot of Spanish on the elevator up to the consulate caused me to be concerned that I wouldn't be able to communicate. My concern heightened when I got into the consulate, and the woman behind the counter was talking in rapid-fire Spanish to the woman in front of me. I was worried I was going to have to try my pathetic Spanish on the woman behind the counter...but fortunately, she saw I was helpless gringo and asked me in English how she could help; she was very friendly and her English was good.
The waiting room of the consulate was remarkable. Jerry Springer was blasting from an old TV set in the corner and the furniture was "run-down 70's schlock." It was a far cry from the French Consulate which was in our old office building in Westwood. But you know what? I will take the friendly and low-key consulate I was in today anytime over the elegant furniture and the haughty folks occupying the French consulate in Los Angeles. It was almost like the French folks tried to be haughty to live up to their reputation.
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