Penn State

I think a little chaos in the world is a good thing.  A little entropy to heat things up keeps our orderly souls nice and toasty.  Nature is chaos.  Therefore, order is, in a sense, not the natural course of things.  And seeing a powerful institution like Penn State fall to it’s knees under the weight of it’s own sins rings of morbid justice.It has made we alumni more than a little anxious.  We anchor many of our core beliefs to that establishment.  So when its structural integrity falters, we start looking for a fix.  If we tear down the joint, what will become of us?  So a shim here, a weld there.  Maybe we need to cut that section out and replace it.  Maybe this place should just be condemned altogether.

And with that thinking, my Alma Mater has become like a Chuckee Cheese with a staff infection virus lurking in the ball pit.

I do feel like we need to broaden our perspective though.  Before I had processed any details about the Jerry Sandusky case, I at least knew one thing for sure: he was guilty and Penn State had covered up the whole thing.  Before I finished the first paragraph of the first article I had already had my mind made up for me by the author.  Each article found the emotional angle and I went along with it immediately without taking pause for critical thinking.  I’m not sticking up for Penn State in this situation.  It definitely sounds like some murky, creepy, borderline-Sleepers type business went down.  If it’s true, the perpetrator needs to be punished, as do the accessories.

I’m just trying to account for the fact that we live in the Nancy Grace News Cycle.  The more presumptive, emotional and vengeful, the less objective and neutral, the better.  I literally read one Sport’s Illustrated reporter’s “opinion piece” that basically said if it happened to his kid “[Sandusky’s death] would be neither quick nor clean.”  I don’t doubt that he feels that way.  There’s just something about that comment being part of the information digested that doesn’t sit well.

I just tend to believe the first thing I hear.  If someone told me that Yarlsberg’s cheese is made from deer milk, I would probably believe them.  It’s the first piece of information that I’ve heard about Yarlsberg Cheese.  I have nothing to contradict that.  So watch my confused reluctance when, a month later, you tell me that Yarlsberg cheese isn’t made from deer milk.  I’ve already constructed a little Yarlsberg scaffold in my mind and there’s a deer sitting on top with his legs crossed, polishing a rifle.  He’s not going to let you take a screw out of that scaffold without a fight.  He was here first.

All I’m saying is that before we start plotting the gruesome deaths of three men, we need to plug our ears and make sure the Pied Pipers aren’t leading us astray.

If you’re looking for more Penn State material on Konkdaddy check out I’m a Human & Penn State Football.