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Killers Among Us<br />

it makes them monsters and maniacs and demons, not quite human.<br />

But how was their rage so different from mine? Obviously, that I did not actually<br />

shoot anyone. Though had I shot up a house full of drug dealers, the media<br />

response would have been quite different. And a good many people who have been<br />

successively sickened during this plague year would be considerably less<br />

devastated, perhaps relieved and maybe even a little thrilled. <strong>The</strong> rage is the same,<br />

only we share the hate.<br />

Calling for the execution of a<br />

murderer. Or in really bad traffic. It's<br />

the same impulse, whether horrific or<br />

honorable, and we've all had it, at<br />

some time and to some extent. Men<br />

seem to have it more often than<br />

women; they certainly walk into<br />

places and start shooting more<br />

frequently. We've heard the theories:<br />

men are rewarded for their aggression;<br />

men are more avid consumers of the<br />

pop death cult; men are reared to<br />

believe the world will bow before<br />

them and are frustrated to learn it's<br />

actually the reverse; men are denied<br />

outlets for their pain. . . . Most of<br />

these explanations, myriad as the talk<br />

shows and magazines that pander<br />

them about, all suggest that men kill<br />

because of something society does to<br />

them. But in nature, animals who don't<br />

watch TV or work in go-nowhere jobs<br />

kill all the time: for survival, for<br />

ON THE BRINK: A POLL<br />

According to the Gen Y2K Report, a recent<br />

survey of 2,000 young men and women:<br />

Of those ages 16 to 19, 41 percent say there are<br />

people they want to get even with.<br />

43 percent say they sometimes are pushed too far<br />

and feel they will explode.<br />

58 percent of this explosive group agree they<br />

would use a gun "if I had to."<br />

53 percent of this group watch TV movies,<br />

compared with 34 percent of those who do not<br />

feel they will explode.<br />

<strong>The</strong> study's authors, Liz Nickles and Laurie<br />

Ashcraft, report that controlling parents may be<br />

to blame for kids' volatility. "Most people assume<br />

that teens who exhibit . . . violent tendencies are<br />

the result of hands-off parenting," Nickles says.<br />

"In the population we studied, the opposite is the<br />

case." Says Ashcraft, "Overscheduled, pressured<br />

children are an emotional powder keg."<br />

territory, for power. Men who kill do so for the same simple objectives, however<br />

demented or hateful their reasoning may be. It may be as simple as that: men are<br />

animals, perhaps a little more so than women.<br />

So, "animals kill, guns don't kill," to paraphrase the National Rifle Association's<br />

boilerplate regurgitation? Well, that's true, in its own disingenuously dense way.<br />

Obviously, hatemongers with guns are much more efficient killers than<br />

hatemongers with knives and baseball bats. But I think there is something to guns<br />

beyond their convenience. In their very design, they are an eerily perfect extension<br />

of rage. <strong>The</strong> handgun in particular: you make a fist and point the metal finger at the<br />

thing you hate. Impulse to twitch, and a hard, hot bolus of fury hurtles out of you at<br />

hundreds of miles per hour. Point and click. Point and click. From urge to<br />

execution in a flash.<br />

<strong>The</strong>re have been many times in my life when I'm now happy I did not have a gun. I<br />

was a dour teen-ager, I'm told, and if I had had a handgun, I might have not shot up<br />

my school but perhaps a couple of particular individuals, including myself. <strong>The</strong>re<br />

were plenty of other kids in my school who could have made the cover of Time<br />

and <strong>New</strong>sweek, with enough ammo.<br />

Even as a hormonally stable adult, I didn't need something as gut-wrenching as the<br />

murder of a friend to unleash the impulse. Being jostled along the crowded,<br />

steaming streets of <strong>New</strong> <strong>York</strong>, there were days when, if I could have simply<br />

pointed my finger. . . .<br />

Table of Contents<br />

<strong>August</strong> <strong>22</strong>, 1999<br />

http://www.nytimes.com/library/magazine/home/199908<strong>22</strong>mag-killer-impulse.html (2 of 3) [8/<strong>22</strong>/1999 9:13:55 PM]

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