"I don't care what you think"
Evil is banal yet alien to our everyday sensibilities; the up-close representation of atrocity encourages prurient voyeurism, though ignoring the gory details skates dangerously close to apathy; there are socio-cultural climates that promote evil behavior, but we should not lose sight of individual human agency; it is easy to recognize the evil actions perpetrated by another country but hard to see those perpetrated by one’s own.
As we've seen in today's previous posts, they'll give up their lives. They'll give up their money. Why not their daughters?Was Prakashanand Saraswati, the spiritual leader of Barsana Dham, a lecherous old man who in the mid-1990s groped several teenage girls who lived on the ashram south of Austin? Or was he a devout holy man who has been made the target of a malicious smear campaign?Not then. Not now. Not ever.
The two dramatically opposing views were aired in opening statements by prosecutors and defense attorneys Wednesday in the trial of the Hindu guru devotees call Shree Swamiji.
The 82-year-old Prakashanand has pleaded not guilty to 20 counts of indecency with a minor by sexual contact for allegedly groping two teenage girls more than 15 years ago. Each charge carries a potential sentence of up to 20 years in prison.
The proceedings in Hays County District Court are under unusually tight security. Three plainclothes officers kept a close eye on the courtoom, which was packed with spectators; two officers shadowed prosecutors as they came and went. District Attorney Sherri Tibbe declined to explain their presence.
In opening statesments, prosecutors characterized the girls as members of dysfunctional families that lived at Barsana Dham and placed the interests of their guru above their children's well-being. Even though their daughters told them they were being groped, "their parents did not protect them," said Assistant District Attorney Amy Lockhart.
The two girls "were raised to believe in this religion, and they believed in Swamiji," she added. "He was like a grandfather to these girls."
But, Lockhart added, when the girls entered their early teens, "their belief that Swamiji was an innocent and divine man who was celibate and devoted to God began to change" when he kissed them and touched their breasts. The girls, now in their 20s, were reluctant to come forward for fear of angering and estranging their families who lived on the ashram, she said.
"If they spoke out, they could be punished," Lockhart said. "They and their families could be exiled. Besides, no one was going to stop it."
It's still happening - it is still happening - but nobody gives a shit, so it'll keep happening, won't it?Thomas Ciancio believed in ethics and treating people fairly, but he paid for his ideals by being murdered by his business partner, Ciancio's older brother said Friday.The wildest thing about cult killings is they could be stopped - overnight - if people just decided to stop denying it's occurring, drill down, and shine a light on the phenomena. But we can't get anyone, really, to do that - and we've spoken with some of the best minds we can find online - but they know better. So the body count grows, the cult's power increases, and there are more murders with each passing day.
"Tom wanted to separate himself from a system of beliefs that said it was OK to mistreat people," said David Ciancio. "He wouldn't stand for that, and that's why he left" Fowler Software.
Jurors on Friday agreed with prosecutors that the founder of the business, William Rex Fowler, hated Ciancio so much for leaving the company that he shot Ciancio three times in the head on Dec. 30, 2009.
The jury convicted the 58-year-old Fowler of first-degree murder after barely two hours of deliberation.
Adams County District Judge Francis Wasserman then sentenced Fowler to life in prison.
Fowler's defense team offered no witnesses during the trial and said little at Fowler's sentencing. Fowler also declined to say anything.
Prosecutors said Ciancio, who was the company's chief financial officer, resigned in November 2009 over how the company was being run.
Specifically, he was upset that Fowler had given up to $250,000 of the company's money to an outside group, which led to the company's near-failure.
In prior testimony and court documents, that group was identified as the Church of Scientology. Fowler was a member of the controversial church.
"The noises that the tenants thought they had heard coming from the cellar beneath them had been real: the thumping, the moaning, the strange clanking noises emanating from deep underground.
