Don who?
Imus is so yesterday. I'd love to gloat on my picks, but...
I have two daughters who are traditionally college-aged. They have opted for other paths in life, and today I am thanking God that they have done so. Under no circumstance will I ever give the nod to their attendance at Virginia Tech.
It’s ironic that I’m in the middle of reading The Sociopath Next Door. . . The Ruthless Versus the Rest of Us by Dr. Martha Stout. Her main focus seems to be people without conscience, who compose about 4 out of every 100 people in the general population. Her stats are astounding; “crazy” people are more common than cancer victims.
I have done some nasty things in my life, but the horror at Virginia Tech is a jaw-dropper. I’m awaiting further investigation, but if this one shooter is responsible, I see nothing but what us hicks call “pure-D evil” rearing its ugly head. The shooter not only falls under the Southern maxim of “he needed killing”; he did everyone a service by taking his own life. Unfortunately, he did it at the end of his shooting spree, instead of from the jump. If people are so dissatisfied with God’s gift of life, why can’t they cancel their own ticket without taking others with them? Dr. Stout offers insight, but we can never truly profile a socio- or psychopath, and predict their behavior.
In a perfect world, someone would have been carrying a sidearm, and burned the bastard shooter down after he fired the first few shots. A lot of kids would have lived. Psychologists can lean back in their comfortable office chairs and scribble notes, but where the rubber meets the road, there are mad dogs who need to be put down on the spot.
When I attended college decades ago, someone called me out for carrying a sidearm. I was licensed and perfectly legal, but it was deemed to be the wrong thing to do. I complied, and always left the pistol in the car when I reported for higher learning.
This is the age of “non-competitive” sports. The lack of a will to win is a disturbing trend. Pundits have stated that people won’t run for fear of being shot in the back.
I am a wheelie; a person who depends upon a wheelchair to travel any distance. I prefer trains to planes for long-distance travel; they don’t search me for sidearms, and I know the vehicle can only go forward or backward. If it breaks, you are on the ground. No falling from 30,000 feet and saying the last prayer before impact.
If some lunatic threatened my kidlets, I think they would stand up and beat him down. I hope I taught the kids rightly. Never, ever, kneel down and take it. If confronted with a killer, go spitting, clawing, and cussing.
I took a break from the news on Monday. Virginia Tech was described as “a domestic shooting”. Okay, that’s tragic. All loss of life diminishes me. I hate to hear it, but I turned the TV off.
At 2300 [11:00 for the unfamiliar] the timer clicks. Instead of Left Coast O’Reilly, Greta the Vampire and Geraldo are blathering. It’s not a domestic shooting, it’s a “massacre”.
Standing by for the body count, it was a slap in the face when it came. It was 9/11 all over again.
I am withholding moral certitude until they figure this squirrel out. I want to hear means and motive; he certainly had opportunity.
I can do or say nothing for the dead. I’m sorry; that’s it. For the living: fight them into the ground. If they’re going to kill you anyhow, what do you lose by fighting? Never give in; I can still manage a struggle from the confines of my wheelchair. Push a gun in my face, I will grab the front of your shirt and hoist myself out of the aforementioned chair.
I might die in the effort, but the Brits have it right with their commando ethic: “Who dares, wins.”
Never surrender!
I have two daughters who are traditionally college-aged. They have opted for other paths in life, and today I am thanking God that they have done so. Under no circumstance will I ever give the nod to their attendance at Virginia Tech.
It’s ironic that I’m in the middle of reading The Sociopath Next Door. . . The Ruthless Versus the Rest of Us by Dr. Martha Stout. Her main focus seems to be people without conscience, who compose about 4 out of every 100 people in the general population. Her stats are astounding; “crazy” people are more common than cancer victims.
I have done some nasty things in my life, but the horror at Virginia Tech is a jaw-dropper. I’m awaiting further investigation, but if this one shooter is responsible, I see nothing but what us hicks call “pure-D evil” rearing its ugly head. The shooter not only falls under the Southern maxim of “he needed killing”; he did everyone a service by taking his own life. Unfortunately, he did it at the end of his shooting spree, instead of from the jump. If people are so dissatisfied with God’s gift of life, why can’t they cancel their own ticket without taking others with them? Dr. Stout offers insight, but we can never truly profile a socio- or psychopath, and predict their behavior.
In a perfect world, someone would have been carrying a sidearm, and burned the bastard shooter down after he fired the first few shots. A lot of kids would have lived. Psychologists can lean back in their comfortable office chairs and scribble notes, but where the rubber meets the road, there are mad dogs who need to be put down on the spot.
When I attended college decades ago, someone called me out for carrying a sidearm. I was licensed and perfectly legal, but it was deemed to be the wrong thing to do. I complied, and always left the pistol in the car when I reported for higher learning.
This is the age of “non-competitive” sports. The lack of a will to win is a disturbing trend. Pundits have stated that people won’t run for fear of being shot in the back.
I am a wheelie; a person who depends upon a wheelchair to travel any distance. I prefer trains to planes for long-distance travel; they don’t search me for sidearms, and I know the vehicle can only go forward or backward. If it breaks, you are on the ground. No falling from 30,000 feet and saying the last prayer before impact.
If some lunatic threatened my kidlets, I think they would stand up and beat him down. I hope I taught the kids rightly. Never, ever, kneel down and take it. If confronted with a killer, go spitting, clawing, and cussing.
I took a break from the news on Monday. Virginia Tech was described as “a domestic shooting”. Okay, that’s tragic. All loss of life diminishes me. I hate to hear it, but I turned the TV off.
At 2300 [11:00 for the unfamiliar] the timer clicks. Instead of Left Coast O’Reilly, Greta the Vampire and Geraldo are blathering. It’s not a domestic shooting, it’s a “massacre”.
Standing by for the body count, it was a slap in the face when it came. It was 9/11 all over again.
I am withholding moral certitude until they figure this squirrel out. I want to hear means and motive; he certainly had opportunity.
I can do or say nothing for the dead. I’m sorry; that’s it. For the living: fight them into the ground. If they’re going to kill you anyhow, what do you lose by fighting? Never give in; I can still manage a struggle from the confines of my wheelchair. Push a gun in my face, I will grab the front of your shirt and hoist myself out of the aforementioned chair.
I might die in the effort, but the Brits have it right with their commando ethic: “Who dares, wins.”
Never surrender!
posted by Robert at 12:05 AM
4 Comments:
Don who? No, Don (nappy-headed) Ho.
"If people are so dissatisfied with God’s gift of life, why can’t they cancel their own ticket without taking others with them?"
My sentiments exactly...expressed every time something like this happens.
Hear, hear!
If two or three had rushed the man, his shots would have been less accurate and a couple of dozen would have lived that didn't.
Sad!
Hey Possum.
This is a truly sad story...
From what I can gather, this kid was the son of poor immigrants. He never had it as good as the kids around him, which probably made him feel apart and jealous. He had a problem learning the English language, which probably made him feel apart and self-conscious. The other kids bullied and made fun of him, which probably made him feel apart and angry. He couldn't make it with the chicks, which probably made him feel apart and frustrated. He saw others around him acting normal and happy, which probably only increased his isolation and anxiety.
He knew he was different, but he wouldn't admit that he had problems. No one wants to admit that they are a failure, or ugly, impaired, or unlovable. He refused to blame himself, so he started to blame others. He became a moody loner. His mother was worried about him. He rarely smiled or even spoke with his room-mates. He may well have been mentally ill or mentally handicapped.
He was an English major so his writings would have been an important part of his curriculum. This was perhaps the only area where he could succeed in life. He was obviously a failure in everything else (socially at any rate). He wrote with passion. He wrote with feeling. He wrote from his heart. His dark writings may have been a subconscious cry for help. And was he rewarded for his prose? Was he praised for his writings?
No. His writings raised the suspicions and concern of a teacher who failed to reach out and counsel him. Instead, she reported his behavior and words to the school's authorities. The Police were dispatched to speak with him, and they suggested that he seek counseling. Can you imagine what that must be like? The cops coming to your door and suggesting that you seek counseling?
This probably infuriated him even more. He was probably wondering who the heck initiated the police action. Who out there thought he was crazy and needed help? That alone would probably make him paranoid. He was rejected at every turn throughout life, and now some unknown entity was suggesting that he needed help. "Yeah, right! I'll show them who needs help".
_______________________________
Now, don't get me wrong. I can in no way condone what this guy did. I'm not excusing him in the least. Anybody who was smart enough to plan out this attack and prepare a multimedia presentation for NBC, was smart enough to know that what he was doing was absolutely criminal.
I'm just saying that there are tortured minds out there, and this might have been one of them.
I have been blessed by God in my 55 years to be reasonably well accepted by my peers. Sure, I got beat up once or twice by bullies. Then I turned around and beat up a couple of those bullies (payback is a "b...").
I've had good friends. I've never had problems with the language. I was never the first picked when we played neighborhood baseball... but I was never the LAST either. I've had plenty of female companionship ('til I got married of course). I got good grades in school. I've won awards and recieved accolades. I've had good jobs and gotten promotions.
I simply can't imagine what it might be like to be a total outcast... bullied, rejected, ignored, laughed at, paranoid, confronted by police, told I need counseling, etc.
Knowing my temper, it probably wouldn't be pretty.
Regards...
Well, maybe I was a bit hasty in first my analysis. I'm hearing now that some people did try to reach out and get through to Cho. At least one teacher spent time tutoring him. Maybe he was beyond help. Maybe the lights were on, people were knocking at the door, but nobody answered (if you know what I mean). Who knows.
Regards...
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