Murders are not the same as stories about murders.
Maybe there wouldn’t be so much fascination if murderers were tortured and burned alive in the public square. I forgot, there is no more public square.
I used to love reading murder mysteries. I have a fantastic collection of crime and mystery books.
Last summer a friend of mine was murdered. I no longer have any interest in reading mystery novels or seeing crime stories on TV. There’s no way to describe the quick heave of the stomach that comes now from even hearing about a murder. We’ve become desensitized through using hideous death as pleasurable entertainment, and this past summer made me realize that fact.