Being Human: A not funny, not interesting, not sarcastic post

I wish I was a better writer....but this is what I'm posting:

There is a story which has stuck with me from college. It's a very simple story but a very odd story. My professor at the time was a 70-80 something year old with a phD in psychology. He had gotten to the point in his life where life was beautiful for just being 'life'. The kind of person who can sit back and really examine the social aspects of how humans interact without being petty....but then again he also had a penchant for wildly gesticulating and swearing in class. So needless to say, I was always intrigued.

So.

The story:

In the 1940's after the allied forces had just taken back France. Naturally like any occupied country some people capitulated with their captors and assisted them. In this case the Nazi's. Some people made it their job to go around and interrogate these people and deem them friend or foe based on their participation. My professor at the time had been part of this group playing mop up. The story that struck me most was that of a young French woman. Her crimes have long since been forgotten (if he even mentioned them). During the course of interrogation there were two officers, an American (my professor) and a French man. There is nothing notable about what was said during the interrogation, at least to the young French lady. Upon exiting the young French woman knew nothing of her fate. Though the French man having heard it all had already signed her death warrant. Whatever war or political crimes she had been guilty of doesn't really matter...because unlike a common criminal they did not shackle her up and march her off to the gallows under the reign of rotten fruit. No. They were very cordial and friendly to her, as if no trespasses had been committed against her fellow countrymen. They walked her out to an awaiting army vehicle where she would be taken away to her later fate (unknown to her). Upon saying good bye the French man exchanged a very friendly good bye of kiss with the young French lady. Not too far from what two lovers would do for a casual parting of ways. Except this exchange was with a person he just sentenced to death.

So where does that leave this story in my mind? This small story which lacks names, details, or any particular facts that would make it incredibly interesting to tell or justify the sentence of death...why do I talk about it? Why does it ring so well with me? I think it's because no matter what, even when stuff is 'fuct' we are still human at the core. We can always be better than the horrible acts we commit,even if the good seems left undone.

So you dealt with that vomit...so here is something for your troubles:

(from: http://fixedgearbikes.blogspot.com/ )