Bullies.
When I was a 10 year old, we moved to a new city. I was a very shy boy and had led a sheltered life. Cursing and swearing had not been part of my life, I knew some of the words, but it had not been acceptable to use them. My old friends at my old school never used them. We moved into a town where the kids were much more coarse. Swearing was done at all times. My first day of 6th grade (I would turn 11 a month later) one of the other kids in my class came up to me and asked me if I liked to get high, exclaiming that, "Beer and Hits, that's where it is at!" and telling me that after class the kids all went into the park across the street, got high and/or drunk and had sex.Now, bear in mind those weren't the words he used and that this was 1970 Massachusetts.
I was scared/shocked/confused. For me, drugs and alcohol were two classes of things. Alcohol was my grandfather having a highball before dinner and drugs were forbidden, terrible things that only psycho's used. Sex, sex was something for two people in love to experience, not just random.
And I was a year younger than everyone else. Probably that kid had just been trying to shock me.
Warren Baker, where ever you are, you certainly achieved your goal if that was it.
So, shocked and scared, I withdrew further, talking to no one. I was mixed in with druggies. How could this have happened?
Well, young males (in my opinion) are not much different than young primates... they need to determine a 'pecking order'. This is done through fighting. I was raised a pacifist, seriously. The Vietnam thing was going on, and ever since my father died when I was three my mom had been telling me that when I turned 18 we were moving to Canada so I would not be conscripted to fight the war.
I had never raised a had against anyone at that time.
So, pushed into the 'playground' for recess by the biggest, toughest kids in my class, so they could determine where I sat in the pecking order, I got beaten up. I never fought back, but then again, they'd knock me down and I would get back up again. Pretty much I got beaten up about once a week until 8th or 9th grade. When I started carrying a knife in my boot. I let those sons of bitches discover that I was carrying and
WHAM
They stopped pounding me. (Oh, the really lovely part was when I would go home, beaten and bloody from the bullies beating me up, my mom would beat me, because, she would tell me I was lying when I said I didn't do anything to make them beat me up)
Life was grand, wasn't it?
Flash forward to today, 2009. You idiots have passed all sorts of laws to stop school violence, kids can't carry so much as a nail file. Bullies always have their favorite weapon though, their fists. You morons have decided on this 'zero tolerance' thing where the kid getting beaten up is presumed to be just as guilty as the one doing the pounding (Hey, Mom, is that you?) and you are shocked and surprised when young bucks, just like me 39 years ago, steal daddies gun and some bullets and kill everyone they can before dying themselves.
Well, I got news for you.
You are the problem. You morons who blame everyone except the parents that raise bullies, you idiots that pass laws that punish the innocent as much as the guilty, you bloody fools that take away any right to self-defense. You are the reason why these young kids go on killing sprees in high schools. Because they have no way out. They have no way to stop the bullies, and you wouldn't stop them,
Teachers see bullying and they do nothing. Parents raise kids to be bullies and are proud of those kids successes.
You are the problem.
Who stands up for those that just want to go to school and go home having learned a little math? Science? Literature? Who stands up for the little guy that is a pacifist?
Who protects those weaker than themselves?
This is America, we used to do these things, we stopped somewhere along the line.
So I blame you! You all suck.
Oh, and I stopped being a pacifist. Quite some time ago, back about when I started carrying a knife. At about 14.
