And you and roadtoad have shown me the face behind many forms of honor killing.
No, I haven't, but you have constructed one in your pointed little head, bless it. (obscure Grace Slick reference)
The funny thing is, if you and I ever met at random, in either New Yawk, or in Texas, at a bar, the 95% chance is that we'd share a beer, get along for an hour or two, laugh about the idiots in politics, the latest silly news story of the day, and perhaps share a joke or two about the Jets, Yankees, or Mets.
Or, I have missed my guess, and you really are a menopausal drama queen, and a hand wringing ninny.
I'll bet against that last.
The number of things that will, or would, move me to violence, is incredibly small given the immense variety of interactions human beings have.
Given that mundane things rarely get discussed here, you choose to sieze upon the unusual, like some piece of crap molesting my flesh and blood, and choose to extrapolate that into "you are a violent person."
Mister, you have issues I can't solve if that is how you react to everyone you actually meet . . . but maybe a beer or two can mitigate them for a short time.
DR