The news could not have been more shocking had you inserted a wet finger into an electrical outlet.
It was more startling than finding an eel in your bathtub.
The once-heartening tale of Paralympic superstar and Olympian marvel Oscar Pistorius — known as Blade Runner for his metal prosthetics –- jackknifed into disbelief when he was charged with murder in the death of his girlfriend on Valentine’s Day.
Police say Pistorius allegedly shot Reeva Steenkamp, a law school grad, model and reality TV star, four times in his Pretoria, South Africa home.
My God, guns, bullets and death — like oxygen — are everywhere. Itchy trigger fingers and trigger tempers are today’s Black Plague.
Last summer in London Pistorius could have been cast as the Prince of Heaven, a crippled mortal who could soar with angels.
Now some serious revisionist thinking is in order. We can’t anoint Pistorius the Prince of Hell, since Lucifer claimed that title centuries ago.
So we shall simply call him The Fallen Prince.
When polar realities collide with such a raucous blat of violence, it numbs minds and hearts with galatic force.