Here's the Charlie Hebdo controversy as it played out when I was in high school.

Monday: Kid says to other kid, "Hey, Lyle! Your mom's a whore!"

Tuesday same two kids: "Hey, Lyle! Your mom's a whore!

Wednesday: "Hey Lyle! Your mom's a whore

Thursday: "Hey, Lyle! " You're mom's whore!"

Friday: "Hey, Lyle! Your mom's a whore!"

BOOM!

"Hey, Lyle! What'd you hit me for? I was just kidding!"

We've all known that guy, and we've all hit that guy, and we've all ended up in the principal's office because of the little rat, too.

My father, who was delightfully pre-emotional, gave unto me the "man rules," which I learned by heart because they are few.

One of the man rules says you can say anything about or to another man as long as you say it to his face. If however, what you say insults him, you have no beef if he hits you. Also, if he hits you, you are expected to hit him back, to fight him. It's too late to apologize by then.

The French humor magazine Charlie Hebdo, which, until terrorists attacked it, sold just about as well as bacon sandwiches in Mecca, made a practice of insulting Islam in the vilest of terms. Over and over and over and over again.

And they got punched in the mouth, by people they could reasonably have expected to punch them in the mouth ... with automatic weapons.

For this, they have been rewarded with candlelight vigils and sincere slogans — how Western nations traditionally reward people who have been canonized into the sacred state of victimhood.

Those who make the magazine called Charlie Hebdo are not backing down, indicating that they (and some of them are women) understand the "man rules." The cartoonists mirror their attackers. If one side believes their honor requires them to avenge the Prophet, the other side believes their honor requires them to draw pictures of the Prophet French-kissing a pig.

In the Western world, where the churches of France have been turned into museums, we believe everything is funny and we believe "honor" is a word used in movies about the Mafia. We do not die for honor any more than we die for love. Our soldiers are told they die for freedom which, in America, is the right to believe that everything is funny. They may have to tell that to French soldiers soon.

Honor, like the wedding vow, balances love with a terrible responsibility. Like the wedding, the ceremony conferring knighthood on a young man was intended, in part, to gild the awful truth that he was now required to die for honor, to be responsible for his words and his deeds in a way that peasants were not.

Pleasant it is to be a journalist, to speak loftily of "freedom of the press" and "the people's right to know" and even, on occasion, about the sacred nature of cartoons meant to irritate others for the sheer fun of making them squirm.

Unpleasant it is to take the punch.

To find out more about Marc Munroe Dion and read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit www.creators.com. Dion's book of Pulitzer Prize-nominated columns, "Between Wealth and Welfare: A Liberal Curmudgeon in America," is available for Nook and Kindle.