The Hatter nodded. "Murder is unlawful killing, but not all killing is murder. You've already identified a few exceptions. But you needn't worry. My guess is, that you will never face the need to consider taking another life, and that if you do, you will make the choice for the greater good."
"Aw, thanks, Hatter," Rabbit's eyes welled up, "but, you know, I'll bet that most murderers think they are doing that, too." He drained his teacup. "That's why I could never be President."
"Glad you're not hitching your hopes on a star there, Rabbit. In any case, it's an insane job."
A nod. "Did you know that I've met a few presidential candidates over the years? Some of them even seem just like us."
"Dig deeper, my friend," muttered the Hatter.
"Fine, so they may have some sociopathic or psychopathic traits. But, you have to admit, that even when they're running towards the finish line to the White House, they too haven't killed anyone."
"True for many, yes."
"And then, you're elected. Inaugurated. In the White House. You've lived 70 years on this side of the line; making deals, schmoozing competitors, the art of the sale. People call you a boor, a jerk, or worse, but you don't care, you're Sinatra in New York, New York and on top of the heap; and you're not just going to heaven, you're in heaven right now, right here on Earth." A breath. "And then, after 70 years, that's no longer enough. You cross that line, in Yemen, in Syria, pick a hot spot. For the first time in your life, you kill."
"War is hell, my dear Rabbit," said the Hatter, "ask any soldier. And, alas, it has never really been for the greater good. Too many profit from its misery--and convince themselves they are on the side of the angels."
"Do they? Or do they know inside that killing seems to be a good way to make themselves 'great.' Because life ain't over until the pleasingly plump lady sings. And 70 years of skullduggery might let you sneak past the pearly gates, but even 2 months of collateral damage is going to be a hard sell for St. Peter." Rabbit shook his head, and began slowly. "I wonder if there was a moment, even just a moment, of hesitation, before making that choice, before crossing that line."
"We will never know, dear Rabbit," said the Hatter. "But, for a psychopath or a sociopath, the answer can be 'no'." He cleared his throat. "And the reason we will never, alas, find peace."
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