Senseless

I don't understand it. It's been a disturbing trend over the past few years. The criminal peak age for young men has progressively gotten lower and lower. Youngsters. Youngins. Lil' N----s.Hoppers. (Whatever you want to call them), has grabbed control of the murderous spirit early in life. (Queuing up my inner Hubie Brown voice) Normally back in quaint times, you had people grow up to become sociopaths. Sure you did. Now they have reached sociopathy and crossed over into sadism by the time they are 18. You know that things are going to get worse before they get better and you know that it will take the efforts of a community for that to happen.

(Turning the channel on Hubie Brown and landing on Bill Walton) The greatest crime and deprivation in the history of Western civilization is that men are growing up without men. I am firmly convinced that the loving guidance of a father is the reason that so many men grow up with bellicosity in their souls.

(Turning the TV off).

No parent deserves to read about the murder of their child through senseless killings. No parent wants to go through that, so no parent should let their child's associations go without inquisitions. Not questioning them outright, but questioning your child to question himself about healthy relationships. We talk all the time about how society and the venom that humans routinely dish against one another, but we don't question the people who allows themselves to get caught in the wrong situation. That's understandable because we are a forgiving nation, so we tend to cut somebody some slack for soundless decisions. Hey, it happens to us all.

But I seriously think that we have to vet those close to us more than we do, if we see the "train going on the wrong track". If we continue on in our own worlds, in our indifference - conscious or unconscious - towards those close to us, then we are letting somebody else fill the vacuum that your presence could occupy.

You know the saying "better you than me"? This time, let the answer be "me."

-IV