Sorry, but I find nothing humorous about Hernandez's death
A few days have passed. And perhaps predictably, so has much of the moral outrage, crude jokes and gratuitous social commentary on Aaron Hernandez's death.
But may I just say that I'm among the minority that didn't find any of it remotely insightful, necessary or humorous?
Suicide is not funny.
The circumstances of Hernandez's life — a waste of so much of everything — aren't funny.
What has befallen his family: not funny.
Quite sad, actually.
And yet none of it stopped the masses from getting a few jollies last week, all the crass jokes on social media, all the sanctimonious reader comments. Another cautionary tale on civility's place in society: swirling the bowl.
Or maybe it's always been like this. Maybe people haven't changed. Maybe they've always been quick to judge or eager to be the funniest in the room at the risk of boorishness. Maybe all that's changed is technology. Faster and more diverse ways to communicate lead to faster and more diverse examples of domestic disintegration.
And that's what it is. Disintegration. We are becoming less compassionate because anonymity allows it. It's easy to poke fun at Hernandez's death, especially when nobody is held accountable for their opinions anymore. It's easy to post a joke on Facebook because who in their right mind would ever condone the way Hernandez lived his life? It's called the privilege of the majority.
Lest we forget, though, that Hernandez has a family. People who care about him. People who are searching for answers. People who will spend the rest of their lives missing him. One of those people — his brother, Jonathan, the new football coach at Ledyard High — lives among us now.
How do you think the family felt upon reading such insightful social commentary?
Or saw all the jokes?
What, there's nothing else going on in the world that better lends itself to satire or a cheap laugh? We need to resort to a few yucks about suicide?
I know people who have lost loved ones to suicide.
It's about as funny as a church fire.
Straight up: Nobody would condone the way Hernandez chose to live his life. But why, given the layers of tragic circumstances, would we choose to unburden ourselves with such hatred and gallows humor?
And why do so many media outlets, even the ones that purport to promote civil discourse, allow it?
Do you think we can ever have a meaningful conversation about this, or has click bait become sacrosanct?
What, I can't ask?
The pox on all of our houses — a failure to think before hitting the "send" button — faithfully reappears. True enough, we've all screwed up. Some more than once. But did we learn from it? Or does being the funniest guy in the room, or the one with the most moral outrage, trump the idea of civility?
Again: When do you suppose we'll all have a conversation about this before dismissing it as "the world we live in?"
It is entirely human, of course, to be judgmental. But how about we save it for stuff that affects our lives directly? I'm pretty sure the circumstances around Hernandez's life — and death — are largely irrelevant to all the jokesters and social commentators. I'd also humbly suggest that stories of suicide shouldn't be fodder for anonymous comments at any media outlet in the country.
What, we couldn't process the story without reading Oliver from Old Lyme's thoughts?
Pretty sure we could.
But then, it's easier to practice benign neglect. Cheap jokes and anonymous whims are all the rage now. Sometimes I wonder what are framers must think, looking down on a society that's become one, giant bar room rumble. Cheap jokes, cheap laughs and collateral damage. Much easier to turn a blind eye and giggle, apparently.
This is the opinion of Day sports columnist Mike DiMauro
Comment threads are monitored for 48 hours after publication and then closed.