Tag Archives: violence

Blather

Florida Beating

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The story about the Florida girl beaten by her peers has brought the so-called experts out of the woodwork again. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s girls, heck, cheerleaders involved that makes this incident particularly newsworthy.

The Orlando Sentinel reported it this way. (Oops  – the link died.)

Don’t get me wrong – I’m not saying for a moment that the behavior is correct. It’s not. You shouldn’t post defamatory material. You shouldn’t gang-beat others. But sometimes stuff just happens.

Making it a little bit more personal… over my lifetime I’ve done some ass-kicking.  And I’ve had my ass kicked a few times, too. Each role – kicker or kickee – teaches you something, and you come away from each lesson a little stronger for the experience. You can wring your hands all you want; sometimes it just happens.

But it’s the stuff that followed the Florida incident that riles me, beginning with the requisite blaming of others. What’s become of taking responsibility for your actions, or taking responsibility for those in your charge? Of teaching? Of setting a better example? No, it’s easier to blame someone else. I wonder, who will be the first one to bring suit this time? Or write a book?

And then there are the experts who have all the answers. Well, actually, it always boils down to the same answer, doesn’t it?

Here’s an article: Videotaped Florida Teen Beating Prompts Calls To Block Violent Content. [Oops- the link died.]

So let’s block it. Yeah, that’s it. Regulate! Censor! Protect! Then it’ll go away, and we can get back to the really important stuff, like who’s winning on American Idol or something.

Y’know, when the stuff that passes for entertainment today is evidently (according to media coverage, ratings, paychecks, and so on) more important than anything else, is it any wonder that some of today’s kids are all-consumed with obtaining a piece of that attention?

Blather

The Strength of a Spider Web – and the Spider Itself

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I don’t use my Jeep much anymore, especially in the summer. I used to. But since I adopted the work-at-home lifestyle there just isn’t much need. Besides, if it’s possible, the motorcycle’s always the first choice.

But this errand called for four wheels. As I cranked down the window I noticed that a spider had constructed a web from the driver’s side mirror to the body proper. I looked closer. The spider appeared to be sleeping near its ball of? spider eggs, more likely than not!

Should I cancel my plan? Not on your life! This would prove to be an interesting trip indeed. I brought the motor to life and cranked the window closed.

By the time I had driven but a short distance the spider was quite awake. 30 MPH winds will do that, when it shakes your nursery violently. But the spider and egg-ball held fast. Soon I was out of the local streets and onto the highway. I only needed to travel a short distance and barely reached 55 MPH. As I approached my destination it appeared that the spider had lost its grip but when I looked closer I realized that it had merely gotten close – very close – to the egg-ball. Perhaps it was trying to protect it? I locked up and went about my business. The return trip, I resolved, would become a better test.

The spider appeared to be sleeping again when I returned to the Jeep. I hit the highway and accelerated. 55 MPH, 65, 75? The web shook much more violently than before as I passed my turn at 85 MPH. The old Jeep with the tired clutch didn’t want this any more than the spider did but I asked for a little more. At 90 MPH I backed down and eased into a jughandle to turn back.

The web had pulled loose from its iron grip on the mirror and hung from the body panel. But before the light changed the spider poked itself above the window line! It had survived!

The remainder of the trip back was sedate. And when I parked the spider, and the egg ball, and the mostly destroyed web, were still attached. Later I’ll have a look and see whether progress is being made on the rebuild.

There’s probably a moral to the story but I’m damned if I know what it is.