So something bad happened on November 2nd. Yes, Bush apparently was elected, but I'm talking about something half a world away. Theo van Gogh was brutally murdered while cycling through Amsterdam. Theo was named after his great-grandfather, who happened to be Vincent van Gogh's brother.
Now, up until the day he died, I didn't even know this man existed. But I was saddened at his loss. Sort of like one would be saddened to learn of the death of a relative of a friend, whether or not you ever met the relative. Certainly, it affected me far more than the death of a stranger. Or even more than the death of many other celebrities.
Why?
Well, my first name isn't rare, but it's not exactly common, either. In my school (which was admittedly small, with a graduating class of only about 125), I was one of only two kids named Vincent, and the only one in my class. I grew up in the east, where the high percentage of Italian population made us somewhat common, though. Still, when I worked in a small department (under twenty) that had three guys named Vince… that was weird.
Perhaps because my name wasn't overly common, it seemed more special to me as a child. And since kids like to identify with famous people, such as when sharing a name with them, I was drawn to famous Vincents. It would be years before I learned that Alice Cooper's given name was Vincent, but as an elementary school kid, that didn't matter. I wasn't exactly into rock 'n' roll at the age of seven. On the other hand, I did like movies. And Vincent Price… now he was cool! In an age when "scary" movies were suspenseful and spooky, rather than bloody and gory, Price was an icon.
But probably the biggest name attraction I had was to Vincent van Gogh. I remember checking out library books on his art and his life. And for the longest time, I was convinced that there was more of a connection than just having the same first name. Maybe it's because we're both creative. Or because we both suffered from mental illness. I don't know.
Whatever the reasons, that's why I took especial notice of Theo's murder.
Theo (the more recently deceased of the two) was a columnist and filmmaker. Sort of a Dutch version of Michael Moore, from what I've read. And evidently, a recent film of his pissed off someone. The film in question, you see, was highly critical of the horrible treatment suffered by Muslim women. And yes, it was a radical Muslim who killed him. The note that was secured to Theo's chest with a knife allegedly called for a jihad.
TIME magazine (or its online counterpart, anyway) has labeled this a political killing. And I suppose that's accurate when one mixes one's religion so thoroughly with one's politics. But let's be more accurate. It was a religious killing.
Yes, I know that when it comes to the religion of Islam and Muslim nations, the two are mingled, so a political killing and a religious killing are pretty much one and the same. But such isn't the case in The Netherlands.
No, this is just another example of a fundamentalist religion that demands the silencing - and often the outright murder - of any who disagree with it or its tenets. Theo van Gogh made the fatal mistake of criticizing Islam. He was shot repeatedly, after which his killer attempted to saw his victim's head off. He was butchered, in other words.
Nothing in this world elicits the kind of fanaticism that fundamentalist religion does. Not politics. Not sports. Nothing. And that is why religious fundamentalism is the cancer of humanity. We may never be rid of it. But we should do everything we can to minimize this festering disease.
People like Theo van Gogh, or Michael Moore, or heck, people like me, should never have to fear being murdered because we voiced a contrary opinion. But while there are fanatics who embrace fundamentalist ideologies, we'll never be free of that fear. We'll always run the risk of dying of cancer.
