In ClownWorld, one of the most important of all endeavors is not allowing your sanity to become warped. It’s a form of personal integrity, just like you’d prefer to have more money but would never dream of snatching an old lady’s purse in order to obtain it.
In this regard, many consider their records to be free of blemish. But are they really? Let’s apply a basic legal concept: The accomplice is equally as guilty of the crime as the person who committed the offense.
Case in point: Trent Gates, a 23-year old who utilized a ceramic knife to slice off his penis in a North Carolina hotel room. Trent, who had already chopped off his testicles 8 months earlier, is obviously insane. Moreover, he’s top-shelf crazy. That’s the kind that needs to be permanently quarantined from society before anybody gets to experience the full extent.
Yet, he’s not the only guilty party. First, there’s the “spotter” he met online. Whoever this was showed up to the hotel room to call an ambulance in the event of excessive bleeding. Comparable to the lookout on a bank robbery. Then, there’s the psychiatric staff he was remanded to after getting treated in the ER- “Yeah, yeah, he’s good, he’s sane…miraculously”.’ They sent him on his merry, dick-less way. They’re like the getaway drivers.
Next, we have his family: “My parents were a little bit shocked but accepting. Grandparents more shocked than immediately accepting, but they are accepting, and great grandparents were immediately accepting, surprisingly.” Abettors, plain and simple.
Is anyone not guilty in this ClownWorld caper? Perhaps a jury would acquit his mother. She caused a family squabble by throwing out his detached icicle after he stored it in her freezer.
If we’re ever to put society back on a sustainable course, undesirable locations need to be identified so we can set up the equivalent of leper colonies for the deranged. Once safely ensconced, the damned would be free to fend for themselves, leaving the rest of us unmolested.
Everyone in this story would be confined to one after being tried by a government tribunal or simply a kangaroo court of their neighbors, whichever proved more expedient. Maybe they’d all work on a vegetable garden together and have a wonderful life. Maybe they’d all get eaten by cannibals. Maybe they’d be the cannibals. It wouldn’t really matter to the rest of us. More importantly, we’d all be kept in line by the fear of being sent there to find out.