It's amazing how well Ned seems to understand all of this, like Ned's had these thoughts, too, and from the sound of it, he has. The fact that he'd slammed the guy into the glass so hard that it had cracked doesn't necessarily surprise him, nor does it scare him; on the contrary, he's almost glad to hear it, because that means that Ned really can relate, isn't just saying empty things because that's what's expected of him.
"I can try to be good all I want," he finally says, reassured by Ned's continued physical contact, by the fact that it's dark and quiet in the closet. He knows that his coworkers are likely wondering what they're doing in here, what they're talking about, but he's glad they're leaving them alone to talk. Peggy's doing, most likely. If it were up to Bob, he doesn't doubt the closet door would have been broken down by now. "But no matter how hard I try to be good, to be kind, I'm still part of something awful. I can't sleep at night sometimes because I start thinking about all the terrible things I do, even though I don't do them directly."
He knows that requires more explanation, but thinking about it makes his head hurt, so he has to take a pause and take a big breath, trying to steady himself. The things Ned's saying make sense, are reasonable, are even soothing, but it's hard to accept all of those things when his mind is racing a mile a minute. "I think about you slamming that guy into the display case and there's something about it that makes me happy. And that shouldn't ever make me happy. I should be glad you defended me, but feel bad for the guy, or worried that he got hurt. You were obviously worried that you'd hurt him, when it happened."
Turning his face away from Ned now, he seems to be addressing the shelves full of paper and pencils and cleaning supplies. "I talk about hating the war. Hating the companies that use their money or their products to support the war. But then we do ads for them, and I take the paycheck even though I know it's dirty money, and I tell myself 'it's just a job, I'm not a bad person, I'm not hurting anyone,' but that's what everyone says, that's what anyone who allows bad things to happen says. That's how the Nazis tried to defend themselves, too. 'Just a job.' So how does that make me any better, when I know I help companies hurt people? You don't do that. You make pie. Pie doesn't hurt people."
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"I can try to be good all I want," he finally says, reassured by Ned's continued physical contact, by the fact that it's dark and quiet in the closet. He knows that his coworkers are likely wondering what they're doing in here, what they're talking about, but he's glad they're leaving them alone to talk. Peggy's doing, most likely. If it were up to Bob, he doesn't doubt the closet door would have been broken down by now. "But no matter how hard I try to be good, to be kind, I'm still part of something awful. I can't sleep at night sometimes because I start thinking about all the terrible things I do, even though I don't do them directly."
He knows that requires more explanation, but thinking about it makes his head hurt, so he has to take a pause and take a big breath, trying to steady himself. The things Ned's saying make sense, are reasonable, are even soothing, but it's hard to accept all of those things when his mind is racing a mile a minute. "I think about you slamming that guy into the display case and there's something about it that makes me happy. And that shouldn't ever make me happy. I should be glad you defended me, but feel bad for the guy, or worried that he got hurt. You were obviously worried that you'd hurt him, when it happened."
Turning his face away from Ned now, he seems to be addressing the shelves full of paper and pencils and cleaning supplies. "I talk about hating the war. Hating the companies that use their money or their products to support the war. But then we do ads for them, and I take the paycheck even though I know it's dirty money, and I tell myself 'it's just a job, I'm not a bad person, I'm not hurting anyone,' but that's what everyone says, that's what anyone who allows bad things to happen says. That's how the Nazis tried to defend themselves, too. 'Just a job.' So how does that make me any better, when I know I help companies hurt people? You don't do that. You make pie. Pie doesn't hurt people."