Madhouse Wednesday: Caught in the Act

"He's been caught in the act..."

"Caught red-handed..."

"No defense possible."

"Your number's up, pal!"

Goodness, do we ever love it when someone who deserves it catches it in the arse, don't we? We circle round, either in the flesh or on the keyboard, watching with salivaritory glee, as someone's life or reputation is ripped to shreds before our very eyes. We get rather Roman about it, yelling for more brutal justice, more blood, more compensation even if the accused has done nothing more than offend our senses. Nothing done off-stage here...we want to see it all. Throw him to the wolves! Bring that rabid beast DOWN!

We'll even holler for blood when the person's guilt is not clear. I think it's the strain of having to be civilised in a society where the less civilised are the loudest and the most rewarded. The moral high road is lonely, and the upper hand is crippled, so when anything whiffing of culpability comes our way, a deep, almost visceral response tears open inside us, and all the frustrations of being a grown up suddenly bubble over into a froth of vindictiveness. Talk about displacement and misguided anger.

There's no question in my mind why people like to watch boxing or extreme sports. They need the outlet, the 10cc's of violence. In the old days, folks could get out their need for release or aggression by joining a war effort or some other violent endeavor (look up the history of jousts and how they started, and you'll wonder how we ever came to romanticise knights). Now there's nothing except the constant need to keep oneself in check, not channel for the more powerful emotions in our being. It's how a civilised, functioning society operates, isn't it?

Sometimes I wonder if the majority of folks in asylums aren't actually insane but full of so much feeling that too many people have told them they need to keep bottled up and quiet for the sake of a operational society.

Getting caught in the act triggers a fight or flight response, a primal response to the possibility of danger. Why else do people flee the scene of a crime, only to avow, "I really didn't know what I was doing...I just ran" when they're later apprehended? I offer a third response to being caught, that of denial. I've listened to court cases where the accused has been proven beyond a reasonable doubt that they are guilty, only to have them shrug and maintain, "I didn't do it". Where does that come from, this desire to appear innocent to the very last?

I've never broken a law beyond a parking or speeding ticket. I've never stolen anything major (pens and pencils don't count, do they??), I've never committed fraud...in fact, the most law-bending thing I've ever done was to use the empty Gents last year at a museum when the Ladies' had an unmoving queue curling out the door. I don't lie much any more because I've nothing to lie about, and the truth is far more fun. And I've tried hard to drill into Max that a lie's damage is far-reaching and rarely forgotten.

And yes, I've had times when I've been caught in the act, thinking I could get away with something and being nailed to the wall. Anyone who's followed this blog in the last few years will know exactly what I'm talking about. I don't regret anything I wrote--I maintain it was the truth from my perspective (and in some cases, blogged live as it was happening in front of me) and that the situation I'd been forced into had become so unbearable that all I could do was write to cope--but I take a lot of responsibility for the rifts it deepened. No one has called upon me to apologise, which is good because my apology would be conditional anyway, and it's not a genuine statement of regret when it's got so many caveats attached.

What can you do when you're caught red-handed? Fess up. Apologise for being deceitful. Try to make amends as much as you can, knowing that hurt feelings take a very long time to die down and can cloud judgment. Then move on. It's the only way that works.