Living with a guilty mind

Mens rea" is Latin for "guilty mind," and I'm convinced it's ideal for the name of my weekly column.\nIn a criminal trial, prosecutors generally have to prove defendants committed the "actus reus," or guilty act, and that they did so with the required mens rea, or guilty state of mind.\nBut more importantly for our purposes, mens rea is something millions of us live with every day, and I want to raise awareness of its seriousness and scope.\nMens rea is a serious neuropsychological condition. You won't find it in any medical journals, but believe me, it's real.\nIt's a chronic ailment, usually lasting a person's entire life after onset in early childhood. It's contracted a couple ways. Many children who have no documented family history of mens rea catch it from authority figures in their young lives, especially elementary school teachers and holy-rolling Pentecostal preachers.\nHowever, the most common mode of transmission is parents passing it to kids. Women are usually only carriers, but as mothers, they pass guilt genes down to their sons at an alarming rate. (At least that was my experience.)\nSymptoms include nausea, vomiting, dry mouth, sweaty palms, rapid breathing and heart rate and an intense paranoia that everyone around you (including God) saw what you did or knows what you're thinking. Oh, and a repeated, almost compulsive watching of Woody Allen movies. \nIf you have mens rea, there are three common treatments. One is to undergo a religious conversion, with a wholesale devotion to your newfound faith. The second is to drink or drug yourself into a state of blissfully intoxicated ignorance. The last option is to enroll in analysis with a shrink.\nAs a veteran of the war on mens rea, I've got to tell you that most times, this is the textbook case of the cure being worse than the disease.\nI never knew what to call it until my first day of criminal law class in 2003, but looking back, I realize I've had mens rea almost since birth.\nI felt it when Mom used to warn Sis and me what to do if Jesus came back and we were left behind. And when I accidentally saw Lisa naked at church camp when I was 7 years old. And when, instead of spanking me when I misbehaved, Dad would simply say, "Someday I'll be dead, and you'll be sorry."\nI felt it in the disapproving stares of grandpas and uncles when, no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't bring myself to enjoy football. And when Grandma's gall bladder nearly ruptured, I was certain it was God's misplaced judgment on my prepubescent lustful thoughts. The first drink, the first kiss, the first touch-all plagued by the meddling hand of a guilty mind.\nFor all of us living with mens rea, there's no hope in sight for a reasonable cure. And as long as there are teachers, preachers and mothers, there'll be more mens rea. But as long as there are old Woody Allen movies on DVD, we can cope.