Since the tragic events in Littleton, Colo., two weeks ago, pundits have chosen to either draw lessons from the horrors there or to avoid sweeping statements of meaning altogether. Many have argued that Dylan Klebold and Eric Harris are either tragic anomalies or prescient hallmarks of a lost generation.

The deaths of the innocent young people that they killed should not be in vain. Whatever the reasons for their deaths, we should try to honor their lives by examining the society that their generation--our generation--has inherited.

America has always borne witness to the often-bloody struggles of competing groups. In this crucible of racial, ethnic, religious and political difference, hatred has always been a fiery element. Though racism and sexism still exist, their expression within modern American society is usually far more hidden, muted and partly emasculated by good laws that rise above the struggles of difference.

Today, however, this evil is more insidious, more present and more destructive than ever before. The hatred and prejudice of some groups towards other groups has rapidly expanded into a hatred for all but the self. No longer confined by the simple boundaries of racial or sexual difference, today's new prejudice--modern America's new hatred--does not discriminate. The individual is the insider, while all others are outsiders.

Our nation was founded not so long ago on the principles of "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness." However, many Americans lose their liberty in an enslavement to their individual pursuits of happiness, caring little for the lives they affect--even end--in the process. The more general "other" is whoever gets in the way of one's plans, one's desires or the preservation of one's way of life.

These "others" are an affront to one's ability to find "happiness" through self-determination. They are an obstacle that must be at least overcome, if not eradicated. This is not mere "self-interest" or selfishness. Instead, self-preservation and self-determination have become pearls of great price and violence has already anointed by some as the means with which to attain these desired ends.

We can't just dismiss these members of the so-called Trenchcoat Mafia as isolated cases of mental illness and parental failure. They have been taught by their elders that their desires are paramount and that it is okay to achieve them at all costs. We have all been taught that it is okay to kill in the name of justice, that we deserve to have whatever we want, that some lives are not as good as other lives and that these "others" are expendable for their lack of convenience and their inability to meet superficial standards of perfection.

We live in a society that is beginning to allow, albeit quietly, the euphemistically-named "withholding of care" from infants born with Down's Syndrome and other birth defects. The imbalanced emphasis on "quality of life" issues--of both the child and the parents in this case--obscures the very real act of infanticide. But we want quality of life.

We live in a society that has removed its one-time gloves of grudging support for those in need of public assistance in favor of empty hands that push such people into hidden corners and crevices. They don't meet the "standard" and they are in the way of our own individual pursuits of happiness. We ask, "Can you please make that homeless man move from the park bench? He's aesthetically displeasing."

We live in a society where it is now normal to blithely go about our daily lives while our own government promotes a policy of starvation in the name of freedom.

The modern trade embargo against Iraq is a siege by another name; we're waiting until starvation and sickness forced them to capitulate. Our ultimate goal may be the overthrow of Saddam Hussein's government, a good objective on the face of it, but our means of deprivation, our reinforcement of his heartless policies, is not the just way to achieve it. But he is the "other," and there by must be defeated at all costs, even the innocent. And who wants another energy crisis, anyway?

Sometimes we realize but persist in our errors, in our mad self-love, and attempt to hide this selfism run amok, this violence, thereby making it all the more insidious. We look into our souls, and much like Dorian Gray's portrait, do not like the rancor and decay we see within. We then compound our errors by speaking different names for our actions, filling in well with the trends of political correctness. Witness the phenomena of "collateral damage" and selective reduction.

How can I, a college student accurately diagnose the soul of our nation? Of course I cannot know who we are or where we are going, but I can proclaim what I see.

Our secret self-portrait is a painting of a man standing alone upon a mountain peak. All others lie below him, dead or no longer able to climb.

Christa M. Franklin '99 is a social studies concentrator in Currier House. Her column will resume during reading period.