Psychopaths and Bullies

I know that there are more important things going on in the world than car clamping—like, for example, the grotesque murder of the former IRA man Eamon Collins. But what can we say about that monstrous deed that adds to the sum of human insight, knowledge or happiness?

There is an old argument about the "men of violence", and the tendency to label them psychopaths and to use the word "evil" to describe them. Of course there always was something knee-jerk, something facile in that kind of sloganeering. And yet, there was a grain of truth in it too—and sometimes more than that.

What does it take to kill another human being? What does it take to drive out of the dark night and to run another human being deliberately into oblivion? What does it take to do that first and then to smash that human being's face to pulp with a baseball bat or an iron bar or whatever other brutal instrument comes to hand? And to stab him in the chest and the face once, twice, or even three times? This is what happened to Eamon Collins.

The word "evil" does not do justice to the monumental barbarity of a murderous assault of this kind. Would it be unfair to describe those responsible as psychopaths? The idea is preposterous. I do not believe, even for a second, that you can rationalise or justify the impulse that led to this orgasm of brutalism on the basis of history or ideology or social circumstance or any of the other things which are commonly referred to as mitigating factors in criminal behaviour.

Is it justifiable to describe those who murdered Eamon Collins as evil and depraved? It is impossible to describe them in any other way: what they did offers a definition of what these words mean. If it is not evil and depraved to brutalise another human being so viciously, then nothing is.

There is, of course, another line of defence for those who condone the use of violence by the likes of the IRA and it runs something like this: those guys are bad pennies. You'll get them in any walk of life. But real republicans—or real loyalists, for that matter—carry out their acts of violence only reluctantly, and only because they have to. They take no pleasure in it. It's strictly business. Nothing personal.

Well, that kind of line is easily assumed—but not so easily proven. The sense of danger, the adrenaline rush, the feeling of transgression, all of these are the stuff of addiction. You get involved in that game at all, and you accept responsibility for its worst manifestations. You accept responsibility for the horrors of Omagh. You accept responsibility for the mutilation and the cold, bloody murder of Eamon Collins.

So what can you say about that monstrous deed that adds to the sum of human insights, knowledge or happiness? Not much, I guess—though it may be worth offering another observation here. Inside this issue there's an interview with Henry Rollins, a man who is frequently fêted as some kind of admirably uncompromising on-the-edge individual. In it we are treated to the real Rollins "schtick"—and then some. Included on this occasion is one of the most grotesque chunks of interview dialogue that it's ever been our privilege—if that's the word—to decide whether to publish or not in Hot Press. I find it stomach-churning to read Rollins talking about the pleasure he takes in smashing someone's face, in feeling the bone crunch under his fist. Of course everything is relative and on the scale of indecency, Henry Rollins is probably not on a par with the sick fuck who did Eamon Collins in—but they're of the same family.

Confronted by that kind of twisted, self-indulgent psychopathic attitudinising, I think I'd prefer never to hear a Henry Rollins record again. There's plenty of good music out there by people who don't profess to take pleasure in breaking other people up. And, what's more, I feel that we'd all be doing ourselves a favour if we stopped treating him as some kind of hero; self-obsession and memememememe ranting are for babies, including overgrown ones.

So—yes, I do know that there are more important things going on in the world than car clamping. But I'm not sure what we can do about psychopaths and bullies, apart from hoping that the law of Karma will come into play sooner rather than later. Whereas we can do something about car clamping!

Last Saturday at 5.00pm a car with a Northern registration was parked in a loading bay in Chatham Street with its hazard lights flashing. The clampers arrived and despite the fact that it was obvious that the car would be moved within a matter of minutes, proceeded to prepare for clamping. A concerned citizen intervened, pointing to the Northern registration and to the hazard lights flashing and pleading for a bit of common sense. She was told that it was people like her that had the city the way it is—and the clamp was applied. Within a minute or two the occupants of the car arrived back—to have £65 extorted from them by Dublin Corporation.

Clamping is an inherently bad policy. But applied crudely and without common sense it is a brutally demoralising and negative bad policy, which is likely to drive people out of the city centre, making them feel angry and exploited in the process. It will seriously affect the atmosphere in the city centre and it will adversely affect business. The clampers' slogan is "getting the city moving". In fact they are doing the opposite, vindictively clamping cars that have overstayed by ten minutes in a disc zone or at a parking meter, and which are in no way affecting the flow of traffic.

I know that Dublin Corporation have invested in this squalid business—but that doesn't mean that they can't pull back. Parking offences should not be policed by a private firm, on behalf of the Dublin Corporation or anyone else, because it results in a lack of discretion and proportionality. And clamping is a horribly flawed way of dealing with the problem anyway. The time for Dublin Corporation to pull back is now, before too much damage is done.