Kevin’s post raises issues other than he might have meant it to do. The word “scandal” is worthy of meditation. The Benghazi scandal, the IRS scandal, the hit TV series “Scandal,” the heartbreaking scandal of homosexual pederasty in the Church. Scandal is everywhere, near and far, “cover-up” being the worst of all—except, maybe, for the embarrassing public breast-beatings we are subjected to. Nothing shocks now.

I don’t mean to write a public whine about this topic. That, too, has been done to death and proven to make no difference anyway. What’s worthy of meditation is the addictive nature of scandal. News junkies feed on it, media people make a living on it—the excitement, the fear (even terror), the titillation, the hold-your-breath what-will-happen-next consuming public, demanding more, and still more. As de-sensitization takes over, ever worse, more shocking shock is demanded by the addict. For that’s the nature of addiction.

As any recovering alcoholic knows, there’s not enough alcohol in the world to slake the thirst of an alcoholic. More is always required. There’s no such thing as sufficiency. Any crack-head knows there’s no great thrill in having your brain explode inside your head after the first time, only a need for ever greater explosions (thrills). That’s what addiction is.

All addiction ends in self-destruction. The public appetite for scandal is no different. When I was a child, the whole country was horrified by the trial, conviction and execution of—of all unbelievable things—a child rapist. Tame now, isn’t it? What’s not so apparent is that whole societies can self-destruct as easily as an individual, perhaps more easily, for the individuals therein are deceived by the communality of their addiction.

Addiction—any kind—is a high-speed train that makes no stops and has no destination, a train from which each person has to jump, one at a time. It’s no good saying: I’ll quit later. This train is different from other high-speed trains: Its speed increases every single minute; it runs faster at this moment than it did five minutes ago, and it will run even faster ten minutes from now. It’s no good saying: I’ll jump when everyone else does—jumps are individual, personal decisions, never in tandem—that’s a substitute addiction in which you bring another person to doom along with yourself.

Confession is the beginning of the cure. Admit the truth of the situation, stop making excuses, stop the phony compassion and false sentiment. Stop the procrastination, which inevitably drags you down into paralyzing inertia, where you can no longer take any action even if you wanted to, known as the point of no return. Those who have passed this point make certain kinds of noises, usually in tones of righteous (defensive) anger, about a “right” to know or even a “responsibility” to know. Know what? Why, whatever the scandal of the day is, of course.