Suicide is mental illness. It is not normal behavior by normal people.

In “Some Clinical Considerations in the Prevention of Suicide based on One Hundred Thirty-Four Successful Suicides,” Eli Robins et al. find that 98% were clinically ill, 94% had major psychiatric illness, 68% were manic depressives or chronic alcoholics. Their conclusion is that public education is of less value. Hospitalization in a closed ward is ideal.

In “Suicide in Chronic Schizophrenia,” Alec Roy offers a three-fold treatment of anti-depressant drugs, electroconvulsive treatments, and empathetic therapy. In combination, these may open up non-psychotic periods, allowing the patient to grasp an otherwise unnoticed reality.

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Robins et al., “Some Clinical Considerations in the Prevention of Suicide based on One Hundred Thirty-Four Successful Suicides,” American Journal of Public Health 49, no. 7 (1959).
Alec Roy, “Suicide in Chronic Schizophrenia,” British Journal of Psychiatry 141, no. 2 (1982).

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The tadpoles had been bobbing furiously. Driving through the night in a tiny Datsun B-210. On chairs, off chairs, rolling round the shag carpet. Dancing and speaking nonsense. Being an adoption. Holding off a pack of demons. Hedgehogs crying out. Something about a snowman. And a very brief birthday party where nobody shows up.

This last scene was the biggest challenge. One tadpole had to be the cake and another the candle. A third tadpole hovered above the candle as the flickering flame. And then the fourth tadpole leans in and blows the candle out. It’s not clear if the cake gets eaten because it was at this point that the tadpoles ground to a halt. They are spent. Randolph and Randolph slump over exhausted. The light still shines brightly through the eye sockets in the head on the table but no one moves, no one makes a sound.

The sudden pause in the action caught the lead examiner’s attention. He had been dozing off for some time and the change in the mood of the room brought him back. Sitting through these life stories can be a real chore. Everyone is happy no different from other people, wrote the great writer, but each one suicides in his own way. Ha!, thought the lead examiner. Great writer indeed. Let’s see him watch episodes of suicide one after another. Do that for a few seasons and you see the same tired story lines over and over, like that television program Suicide, She Wrote. Depression. Despair. Crazy. Dead. Rinse and repeat. Soon it’s too easy to figure out whodunit and then suicide stops being entertaining. Thank goodness this seems to be over, maybe now we can go to commercial.

Gathering himself the lead examiner sat up in his chair and looked to Randolph and Randolph. Is that it?

Randolph and Randolph looked at each other. They raised the tadpoles and wiggled them around a bit, but nothing. No animation, no story, not a peep. And then the black sock puppets brought to life by Randolph and Randolph simply wilted and fell back to their sides lifeless once again.  

That’s it, they said.

The lead examiner looked over at Foxy, who stood behind the camera.  Even if I missed most of it, thought the lead examiner, I can watch the recording to see what I missed.

Did you get all that Foxy? said the lead examiner cheerfully.

Get what? asked Foxy, who was munching on what looked like the last bit of a left arm.  

The recording. Of the show. With the camera. Pause. Blank look.

The recording of the show with the camera. That camera, gestured the lead examiner now with a touch of consternation.

Oh, sure sure. How do I record? said Foxy as he scanned all the buttons and nobs.

You mean you didn’t record anything?

I don’t believe so, he contemplated. So, no.

What in the Great State of Confucius have you been doing all this time? You were supposed to record Randolph and Randolph so we could make heads and tails out of this gibberish. Why weren’t you recording? With the camera. Right in front of you.

You just said I should be at the camera, and that is where I have been for pretty much the whole time, as he swallowed the last piece of arm.

I meant that you are in charge of recording. Isn’t that obvious? Why would I have you stand behind the camera and not record? Why would the camera be here in the first place? This was very important to document. Mostly important to document. Somewhat important. There were parts. Snippets. Slivers. One, maybe two. And we needed to record these. And you were in charge of recording.

The lead examiner stared at Foxy. Foxy looked over at Randolph and Randolph. Randolph and Randolph turned to the lead examiner. Foxy turned to the lead examiner and stared. The lead examiner looked at Randolph and Randolph, and then back to Foxy. The light from the eye sockets on the head on the table looked on.

Well, said Foxy finally, I didn’t understand. Maybe be a little more explicit next time, yeah? What did you expect? In case you hadn’t noticed, said Foxy, I am a bear. With that he raised two of four paws and displayed them front and back as even more evidence of being a bear.

Who puts an untrained bear in charge of the recording camera in the first place? he demanded. And the question was rhetorical, and Foxy had a point.

Now, Randolph and Randolph became alarmed. Do we have to do that all over again? they cried, stripping off the black socks in protest. One scene was at a local park where a group of kids surrounded a smaller boy and yelled Gooky and Chinaman and pulled their eyes back to make them slanty, and then there was a fight and pummeling and the tadpole in the center swung back and this went on for a long time until he was kicked in the stomach and then the kids — both girls and boys where the boys did most of the hitting and the girls did most of the cheering from around a circle — went away laughing and the small boy lay there on the ground for a while. Finally, he got up and got on his bicycle and rode home. That scene really roughed up the tadpoles, and there were others like it, and Randolph and Randolph did not want to repeat the performance.

No, that won’t be necessary, said the lead examiner. That’s alright Foxy, said the lead examiner. Fortunately, we have an editing department, gesturing at Randolph and Randolph, that can backfill scenes with other material we get from the corpse. Usually they just help to punch up a suicide note or fix the almost always misguided manifesto. But they can also, quote, fabricate, unquote, entire scenes if, say, the second page of a suicide note is missing. The question of course is not what was said so much as what probably would have been said, or quite honestly, what should be said to make the note complete.

The lead examiner ruminated gnawing on what could only be cheek. We can just pick three choice scenes that will tell the whole story and have them done up. This has the added benefit of making all the examinations come out saying the same thing, which is what we call the corroboration of findings in a rigorous suicide autopsy.

I can give them my notes from the performance, as well, said the lead examiners, and he held up two damp pages from the autopsy report he was writing. On one page was an excellent drawing of a rabbit nurse just bursting through her uniform. On the other page were carefully written notations that read: milk, eggs, cat food, deposit paycheck. And, Can rabbits really get nursing degrees, question mark. Answer: I don’t think so, but maybe so … Let’s hope so, with arrow pointing back to other page. And the word, Chuckles.

Foxy was relieved. Randolph and Randolph were relieved. I think that’s it for the night, said the lead examiner.

When we return tomorrow morning we will pick up with this. And with that he placed his hand atop the head and slowly turned the spherical orb 180 degrees. The light shining from the eye sockets scanned the room until landing squarely on a painting hanging on the opposite wall. Next to the painting was a small placard. A cushioned velvety bench faced the painting from about 15 feet away, which is the internationally recognized distance for perfect viewing.

Before the light could fully settle Randolph and Randolph were quick to the door and out and gone. Being moral examiners is not always easy. It’s a bit like working customer service where everyone complains all day long except that everyone is also dead. So there is no calming them down or fixing the problem or extending the warranty for peace of mind. It’s just life unresolved that is also in the end already irrevocably resolved. Their job is simply to document that, yes, there was a problem, and, yes, the customer fixed it in their own way. Close ticket. So when a a particularly difficult day is done they are happy to retire to a mug of beer and fatty meats turning on a fiery spit and the warmth of the fire.
 
Foxy and the lead examiner lingered for a while. Being from out-of-town Foxy didn’t have anywhere pressing to go, and the lead examiner had errands to run and somewhere out there was a cat waiting to get fed, but nothing was that urgent. And unlike Randolph and Randolph who turned into pumpkins one moment after the hour the lead examiner liked to stay behind and let quiet descend. He found that the room spoke to him in whispers that could not be heard during the bustle of the day. And so he walked over to the bench and he sat down facing the painting. Foxy walked over with him and sat down beside the lead examiner. The light shone between them and they faced the painting and for a while they sat without saying a word. The silence was refreshing.
 
Then, with a calmer thinness in the air, Foxy asks, What do you make of this case so far?
 
The lead examiner had to think a moment. He usually just comes up with something passable at the end. Now he was on the spot. He should say something and it should sound expert. He paused for effect and appeared to collect his thoughts while he was trying to have some. And then he began.
 
First and foremost, said the lead examiner, the body was found in nature. Found by one astute bear, I might add, he added. Foxy nodded in recognition and the lead examiner nodded back.
 
Yes, the body was found in a remote part of nature. From this we can deduce that the suicide was a natural death — au naturale, as they say. But there is more here than meets the eye.
 
Observe that since the body was clearly not meant to be found by people and because people are social animals we can also consider this suicide to be natural in the savage sense, since the solitary savage is naturally opposed to what is social and civilized. It was a reverse shunning, in effect.

The lead examiner was on to something and he grew excited to find out what that was.

Note the dim and distant isolation, he continued with momentum. Dare to travel this pathless wood alone and without guiding light or a trail already blazed. Absorb the unbroken stillness without screaming in despair. Let ice cold seep into your heart of hearts as your reserves of time and energy dwindle and melt away and be glad. No, this was a setting meant to conceal the deed using the depths of nature as a great shroud. It was a stage meant to have no audience whatsoever. It was only bad luck that Foxy the Bear was on the scene to foil this rickety plan.
 
So that’s one side of the argument, and I believe it to be correct. But just because the corpse was in nature doesn’t mean the suicide was natural.
 
What do you mean?
 
We all know that suicide is a crime against nature, the lead examiner continued. Only humans defy the law of nature which is the commandment of self-preservation. Animals don’t commit this mortal sin. They cannot. They simply can’t bring themselves to even contemplate this reprehensible act. It’s not in their wiring. In fact, I doubt if any of them even have a word for suicide. That’s because they wouldn’t know what you’re talking about if you tried to explain it to them. They would just look at you dumbly. Just a bunch of dumb animals … too dumb to suicide, the lead examiner trailed off.
 
Foxy thought a moment. The argument made sense, and the counter argument also made sense, and a complete picture was forming. But Foxy had also traveled widely in the animal kingdom and he knew things about animal animals that human animals could never know.
 
I agree that the basic law of nature is self-preservation, said Foxy. But did you know that when ants go to war they can swell their abdomens with hot acid and burst the stomach wall to blow up and burn the enemy to death?
 
I did not know that, said the lead examiner. He was intrigued and he loved hot acid. Are there other examples?
 
It is said, continued Foxy, that an injured bee will sting itself with a mortal wound if it is unable to return to the hive. And a diseased bee will fly from the colony to die alone to protect the many over the few, or the one. It is a far far better thing, says the bee.
 
I also learned that geese mate for life so that when a partner dies the living goose will remain by its side and wither away and wait to die. Picture a windswept field as one goose still protects the other from the gathering storm. So you might think the geese also mate unto death.
 
There are cases of caged monkeys starving themselves to the brink of death when they witness the intentional starving and suffering of other monkeys caged nearby. A bit like Irish terrorists, don’t you think? Suicide is terrorism, in a manner of speaking.
 
Blimey, said the lead examiner. Til me mawe, Foxy mate. The lead examiner so loved the Cockney people and their ways.
 
Foxy continued, a little put off by the Cockney and why he keeps doing it. Vampire bats will allow the hungry to feed on their blood up to and sometimes beyond the edge of death.
 
And my favorite is the little desert spider who patiently awaits her newborn babies to swarm and pierce her body, and then they feast from the inside until she is dead dead dead. How better to guarantee they are well nourished in the most tender and tenuous moments of new life? This is my blood, this is my body, you might say. Eat and drink me in remembrance so that you will live.
 
Thank you, said the lead examiner. That was so enlightening. You are a surprisingly knowledgeable bear. But you also only prove my point.
 
How so?
 
Look at all your examples, said the lead examiner. You don’t see a single solitary savage animal suiciding. You only see animals who are properly social and civilized. Suicide for the greater good. Death so life can thrive. Life that mourns a death.
 
Now look at the case before us, said the lead examiner who placed his finger into the stream of light and traced it back to the head sitting on the table. Here we find the worst example of being a human animal. Suicide that is solitary and without regard for being social. Without any shred of civilization. Suicide that is simply savage. It is the suicide of a animal who is human who refuses to observe the manners of being a human and is therefore a mere animal, a brute that is more like a beast. Or worse yet, a beastly beast. Yes, said the lead examiner, here in a simple sense is a case of someone being a beastly beast. A beast that is unnaturally beastly. Beastly beyond beast. And what is a beastly beast if not … he paused … a monster? An unnatural being that walks among us.   
 
Sweet Jesus, said Foxy. He let it sink in, that this is what we’re dealing with. Nothing less than a monstrous monster. A monster monster.
 
Yes, said the lead examiner, puffing up a bit since sometimes even he surprises himself with his insights. This will be the keynote to the suicide before us. It is a beastly suicide and therefore it is the suicide of a monster. Everything else can be filtered back through this singular and indisputable fact. We have before us nothing less than the monstrous suicide of a mere monster. And with that he pointed to exhibits of a monster, the head, the swinging now armless body, the leftover goo of brain and fat. What a monster, as if to say.
 
With that the lead examiner took out a pencil and emphatically scratched out the word natural on the autopsy report and replaced it with the word unnatural. He could have just added the letters u and n to natural, but he did not. Then, he wrote, M-O-N-S-T-E-R, in all caps. Underlined twice. Exclamation point. Smiley face.
 
Now that we have the right framework we can build with confidence as we work this into a full and complete suicide. We will hang ornaments on this Christmas tree and light it up!
 
I can see them now! exclaimed Foxy.
 
What do you see? pressed the lead examiner encouragingly.
 
A broken little slanty boy that never got over it. That goes at the bottom of the tree. A lonely little broken ching chong who only ever stayed in the shadows. I think we could fill a whole tree with just these ornaments. But then all around the middle of the tree we must assume an odd hatreds. Anger. A pot boiling over needing to be quenched in ice cold waters. This leads me to believe that the suicide was really meant to murder.
 
Yes, said the lead examiner. Yes, he almost hissed. What’s left to add? demanded the lead examiner excitedly.
 
The top branches get one rusted ornament for each and every failure where he never saw something through, never lived up to his mediocre potential, never knew where he was going anyway, and always somehow sabotaged himself along the way.
 
Those upper branches are fully laden now, said the lead examiner looking up at the tree in admiration. Look at them sag. How they struggle to keep from breaking. Is there more? Give me more.
 
And at the very top, all the way up there, said Foxy, our star ornament is an L for Loser. Big time loser. Loser to the nth degree. Loser to infinity and beyond. Lost at the game of life and ended it all because he didn’t want to play anymore.

Light it up baby! exclaimed the lead examiner.
 
Fire it up! cried Foxy, and they drove their fists into the sky with every single word of it.
 
You see, said the lead examiner. If you do it right, the autopsy practically writes itself. You’d make a good moral examiner Foxy.
 
Thank you, said Foxy. You’d make a good bear.
 
Foxy and the lead examiner let the breakthrough weave its way through the air as a warm blanket around them both.
 
From the cushioned bench in front of the painting they stood up, faced one another and bowed deeply and longly with only light shining between them.

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