Why does it seem when
one group of people has a problem with another group, the first group never
addresses their problem in a man-to-man, woman-to-woman, or face-to-face fashion?
There always seems some kind of four-on-one beatdown involved. It always seems so-and-so
was jumped from behind. It always seems innocent bystander never saw it coming.
There always seems like some kind of weapon involved. There always seems some
kind of cowardly instance of violence taking place by some kind of coward who
hides his face, waits until night to carry out the deed, or just doesn’t take a
step without the odds being heavily in his favor.
If you need an example
of the kind of chickensh*t courage I’m talking about, just read this touching
account from the Lincoln Journal-Star of a situation that happened a few days
ago in my city. It’s a heartwarming telling a heartwarming hate crime in which
three upstanding males bumrushed a woman’s home and proceeded to do all kinds
of neighborly things to her, including carve “homophobic slurs into her skin” and
attempting to “light her house on fire.” Beautiful. Outstanding. Yet another
example of the human race fulfilling its massive potential and demonstrating
its prowess at being the most intelligent creature on earth.
Seriously, sometimes
I’m embarrassed to be human. Sometimes, I’m embarrassed to be a man. Sometimes,
I’d embarrassed that these kind of stories don’t surprise me, even when they
occur right in my backyard. Nothing really surprises me anymore. Nothing. And
that’s not a fact I like to readily admit. It’s not a reality I really want to
embrace but have been forced to. I’m embarrassed to have to prepare my children
to fend for themselves one day in such a world.
I have no idea what
motivates a man to even think thoughts such as the ones involved in this case,
let alone actually carry them out. I have no idea how it is that more than one
man can gather around in a room and actually have a conversation with another
man about doing such things to someone else. When did it ever become acceptable
to utter, “Hey Larry, you know what would be riot to do tonight?” “No, Ted,
what?” “Whatcha say you and me get us a can of gasoline, sharpen up our pocket
knives, and scare the sh*t out of that lezbo across the street?” “Hee, hee. I’m
with you, Ted. You know what would be even better. We should wear masks so no
one will know who we are. We can’t have people actually holding us responsible
for our actions, can we?” “Oh, hell no, Larry. Can’t have people look us in the
eye and see the piece of sh*t they’re dealing with directly.”
OK, so there are at
least three dimwits running freely around in my city. Know what’s even scarier?
They aren’t alone. There more than likely is a good chunk of people who deep
down are congratulating them, others who aren’t bothered in the least by what
they did, and others still who might be repulsed but would never publicly say
as much. Kudos to those who don’t belong to any of these groups.
I’d like to believe and
trust that there’s a hell waiting for such people who run in packs because they
lack the honor and integrity to face their miserable existences alone. I’m not
convinced, though. What I am sure of is that these vacant souls have never
tasted anything in the way of true self-respect, self-pride,
self-accomplishment. Small consolation, but sadly, it’s about all I can come up
today. For me, I’ll continue to teach my children the exact opposite. I’ll
teach them to act alone and come to the aid of others, to not attack, and
certainly not to stand tall only when you’re in the company of likeminded
others, especially when the others of fricking idiots.
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