There are many things we don’t understand, and then there are
some things that belie common sense and common decency. Why, for instance, do
we seem to have an endless need to be voyeurs into other people lives, and
sometimes even after they are dead.
All too often the tabloids get a hold of a sordid story and
publish the alleged assignations and private life of some celebrity. Love
affairs, romantic trysts, who loved whom. Who cares. Voyeur is a French name
for a Peeping Tom. Can writing about it or reading about it in tabloid or book
be less perverse than peeping?
It is the memory of personal good and public grace left behind
by the icons of society that should be remembered, not their private choices
that may be altered by gossip or greed.
Do we see ourselves as better by peering into the prurient
human failings of those we celebrate? Shakespeare was right. Let the sins or
faults, endemic to all of us, be forever buried with our bones. Remember only
the good someone does for that will honor life, not defile it.
May the
understanding of personal choices be acknowledged by the eternal Source of
unconditional love and not vilified by those who are rudely nosy.
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