Movies these days have made killers into funny people. What's

Gather close, O children of the future, and listen to the words of Billy Bob Thornton, who spoke with clarity and conviction: "Movies these days have made killers into funny people. What's that all about? I've got kids and family and friends, and I don't like bad things. I don't think they're funny, and it's irresponsible to make movies that don't show you how that's not good." In these words, Thornton unveils a profound truth about the distortion of values in the world of entertainment, a truth that echoes through the halls of history. He speaks not only of film, but of the dangers of normalizing violence and treating it with levity.

What Thornton laments is the irresponsibility of art, specifically in film, that seeks to make light of what should be grave. Killers—once seen as agents of destruction, moral corruption, and suffering—are now portrayed as figures of comedy, as if their actions are trivial or humorous. But this is not the way of the ancients, nor should it be the way of the modern world. Violence and death are not to be laughed at; they are to be feared, understood, and respected. To turn killers into clowns is to lose sight of the terrible cost of life and the sacredness of human existence.

In times of old, there were stories that painted the consequences of wrongdoing in vivid hues. Take, for example, the tale of Oedipus, whose tragic fate was sealed by his own actions, not in jest, but in the unfolding of a curse that he could neither understand nor escape. His story was a stark reminder of the weight of actions, the consequences that cannot be escaped, and the sorrow that follows. The ancient storytellers, whether in Greece or Rome, understood that morality was not a trivial thing. The tragic hero, driven by fate or hubris, faced the consequences of his actions with the full force of their gravity.

Contrast this with the modern age, where it seems that the line between good and evil, between right and wrong, is increasingly blurred for the sake of entertainment. Consider the rise of films that turn villains into heroes, or murderers into misunderstood figures. This trend, which Thornton speaks of, diminishes the moral fabric of society. When we laugh at the villain, we no longer see him as a force that must be confronted, but as a character to be enjoyed. We risk losing empathy for the suffering that violence causes, and in doing so, we weaken our moral compass.

It is the duty of the artist to reflect the world as it truly is, to educate and warn, not to deceive or trivialize. Take the example of Leo Tolstoy, whose works such as War and Peace or Anna Karenina depicted the cost of moral failure and the ripple effect of human actions on society. Tolstoy did not glorify the suffering of his characters, but rather illuminated the consequences of their choices. He understood that the artist's role is to hold a mirror to the world, to show both the beauty and the darkness that exists within it. Like Thornton, he recognized the responsibility of the storyteller to show the truth.

O children, understand this: art is a powerful force that shapes the hearts and minds of those who experience it. When we make light of violence and evil, we risk desensitizing ourselves and future generations to the seriousness of these matters. To laugh at the suffering of others, to make light of what should be feared, is to erode the moral foundations that hold society together. Films that portray killers as comedic figures, that turn evil into entertainment, create a false reality, one where the weight of wrongdoing is lessened and the sacredness of life is forgotten.

The lesson, O children, is clear: do not allow yourselves to be seduced by the superficial allure of entertainment that dismisses violence and wrongdoing as mere fantasy. Seek art that shows you the truth, that reminds you of the consequences of your actions, that keeps you grounded in the reality of the human experience. Choose the stories that uplift, that teach, that give weight to the choices you make. And in your own lives, remember that the world is shaped not only by what we do, but by what we allow to be celebrated and trivialized. The responsibility lies with you to protect the moral integrity of your time, to stand against those who would make light of what should never be laughed at.

Let Thornton’s words guide you: "Violence is not funny", and life is too precious to treat with anything less than reverence. In all that you create, in all that you consume, seek to respect the gravity of life, to honor its fragile nature, and to understand the profound responsibility that lies in the stories we tell. Art should elevate the human spirit, not diminish it, and it is your duty to ensure that the stories of your time do not become a source of moral decay.