I sat on a pillowed bench in the Catskills. It was mid-July in the mountains: the trees were ridiculously green; the hummingbirds sipped sugar water. The prospect before me -- attempting Millie's experience at Auschwitz -- it seemed simply absurd.
I love Buddhism and I'm all for forgiveness among us flawed humans. But only after unrepentant mass murderers who outstrip every definition of evil Webster's can muster are, to paraphrase President Obama, taken off the field.