Veracity by Mark Lavorato Page A

had it in us to do some appalling things, but to blanket everyone with a description such as 'atrocious' or 'vile' seemed a little simplistic to me. As far as I was concerned, there were a few people on the island who I would have a hard time stamping with such words, and I wondered what Dana would have to say about that. Could he really point at Thalia or Mitra and sincerely brand them with the description of 'vile'? "But... I mean - there must be some piece of us that isn't
so
horrible."
    "Possibly, yes. But as a whole, at the most basic, fundamental layer, which is obviously where it matters most, we are essentially that: horrible."
    I tapped a fingernail on the table before speaking. "But how can you know that for certain?"
    Dana grinned, "How I know what we are isn't nearly as interesting as how you don't. I haven't pulled my ideas from the air, haven't rehearsed them from a book; I've formed them from observing our every action, and I would suggest that you begin to do the same.
    "The easiest place to start is to think of children, as they are acting almost directly from that dark, fundamental layer that I'm speaking of. I know that you don't have a lot of experience with younger children, and that we don't have any on the island to draw examples from, but try and think about Anu or Siri as far back as you can remember. As soon as they'd learned how to talk they were exhibiting their innate behaviour: hitting each other, stealing and hoarding things to themselves, deriding one another. There has often been a misconception that we are born pure, but that notion couldn't be more mistaken. Babies aren't born innocent only to be later corrupted by society; they are born corrupt, and if they aren't effectively deprogrammed, then it is they who spread their malignancy throughout society."
    "Did you say 'deprogrammed'?"
    "Yes. Deprogrammed. Adults don't 'teach' children to be non-violent, caring, kind individuals; in fact, in a person's formative years, there isn't any 'teaching' that's done at all - it's only constant dissuasion, deterring, and discouragement that keep children from doing what they naturally want to do. Though of course, this must also be done while encouraging them to do the opposite, all with the aim of eventually coercing them to act in a way that isn't nearly as inborn. In its most basic sense, the raising of a child is but an attempt to rewire a rogue brain. It's a conscious unshaping, which is done in the hopes that the child might come to act as far away from their instinctive tendencies as possible.
    "So, as to your question, is there a piece of us that isn't so horrible? Well, let's take a look. Let's imagine that there is a well-mannered, compassionate individual standing inside of this courtyard with us. And as they are such, we can only assume that the deprogramming stage of his or her life had gone over flawlessly. I ask you, is this a 'good' person? Does it really matter if they say please and thank you when they should, that they share, treat others respectfully, stifle their violent thoughts? Is the essence of a being measured by its shell, by how well they balance on the wobbly pillar that juts out of the mountain of things that they've 'unlearned', or is the essence of a being measured by its core, by what's beneath it when it falls?"
    "By its core."
    "Of course it is. In fact, the image of someone standing with one leg on a pillar is perfect, because I like to think of anything that we do or make (societies and cultures for example), as a kind of construction, as building blocks. And of course, the only way to find out what a structure is really made of is to grab hold of the bottom of it and shake, and see how it holds out when it has to fall back on its most rudimentary foundation. What do you think history has continually shown us, what do you think happens when we shake the wobbly pillar of the commended lady or gentleman that we imagined? Where do they land when it collapses? I'll tell