Professor Sangnoir grew uncharacteristically serious. "The
simple truth is, there are *always* people whom you will have no
choice but to kill, who *deserve* and *need* killing. The mad
dogs, we called them in the... in my unit. They will not accept
defeat, they will not rehabilitate, and they have no purpose but
to disrupt and destroy. They recognize no law or authority but
their own whims, and will gladly use your morals and ethics to
manipulate you and make you dance to their tune. With lesser
measures you may stop them temporarily, but if you give them the
least chance to come back, they *will,* and they will *always*
kill something you hold dear in the process."
He paused for a moment with his hand over his eyes, then looked
back up. "Unless you kill them, the mad dogs *always* come back,
and they get worse each time they do, until they are terrorizing
entire nations and killing thousands or even millions. You
*must* kill the mad dogs when you recognize them, or you risk
taking the responsibility for all their victims from that point
on."
He turned, picked up a piece of chalk and lifted it to the board,
then seemed to think better of it. Turning back to the
spellbound class, he added, "The mad dogs know this, and they
delight in choosing as nemeses those who will *not* take that
final step, be it from moral compunction or simple
squeamishness." The professor drew a deep breath. "And some,
like Voldemort is rumored to have done, seek out the ultimate
advantage, and try to make themselves unkillable. And an
unkillable mad dog ..." He shook his head. "Nothing is safe
from someone like him, for sooner or later he will attempt to
destroy *everything*, even his own allies and accomplishments,
out of simple boredom."
-- Bob
---------
Then the horns kicked in...
...and my shoes began to squeak.
simple truth is, there are *always* people whom you will have no
choice but to kill, who *deserve* and *need* killing. The mad
dogs, we called them in the... in my unit. They will not accept
defeat, they will not rehabilitate, and they have no purpose but
to disrupt and destroy. They recognize no law or authority but
their own whims, and will gladly use your morals and ethics to
manipulate you and make you dance to their tune. With lesser
measures you may stop them temporarily, but if you give them the
least chance to come back, they *will,* and they will *always*
kill something you hold dear in the process."
He paused for a moment with his hand over his eyes, then looked
back up. "Unless you kill them, the mad dogs *always* come back,
and they get worse each time they do, until they are terrorizing
entire nations and killing thousands or even millions. You
*must* kill the mad dogs when you recognize them, or you risk
taking the responsibility for all their victims from that point
on."
He turned, picked up a piece of chalk and lifted it to the board,
then seemed to think better of it. Turning back to the
spellbound class, he added, "The mad dogs know this, and they
delight in choosing as nemeses those who will *not* take that
final step, be it from moral compunction or simple
squeamishness." The professor drew a deep breath. "And some,
like Voldemort is rumored to have done, seek out the ultimate
advantage, and try to make themselves unkillable. And an
unkillable mad dog ..." He shook his head. "Nothing is safe
from someone like him, for sooner or later he will attempt to
destroy *everything*, even his own allies and accomplishments,
out of simple boredom."
-- Bob
---------
Then the horns kicked in...
...and my shoes began to squeak.
