In The Name of Discipline?

The ads are appealing,  promises and guarantees that hard loving their teens would make them more likely to be good.    So many of their restrictions were flat wrong.  Using mail as a carrot stick was wrong on so many levels.   Subjecting them to strip searches and BCS,  were and are dehumanizing.    Add in lack of phones to parents and family,  and there is a great quotient for abuse.

“Parents teach children discipline for two different, indeed diametrically opposed, reasons: to render the child submissive to them and to make him independent of them. Only a self-disciplined person can be obedient; and only such a person can be autonomous.”
Thomas Szasz

 

Hey,  timeout was no big deal.   The backpacks were supposed to be 30% of their weight and the 70lbs they  bore is quite a bit more.   I have some links that are must reads,  because they talk about deaths and extreme physical abuse.   One Asian girl was thrown off a truck and died.

https://www.hcn.org/issues/61/1913/#comments

http://www.hcn.org/issues/61/1912?src=rc

 

A movie called ‘Bootcamp’,  starring Mila Kunis pretty much sums up conditions and punishments doled out,  to intractible slaves (teens).    Besides the Cavity Searches and beatings,  make me think of Concentration Camps as to a catharsis from being out-of-control brats (which many were).

Abducting these kids with the permission of teens would be disallowed in the first place.  Called ‘Escorts’,  they would go to the kids and haul them off in handcuffs or being drugged,  ending up in some camp far away.   We treat criminals better than this.   Factor in some judges being paid to send kids off to jail or boot camps,  then how can that be right?

 

 

Thankfully the number of camps have been from like 18 to 3 camps and most have better safe-guards.   But while they do some things,  death is not among them.

 

Some of these kids are mentally ill and sending a kid who has real mental issues is a non-starter.

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Misogyny 101. Rape is Rape

RAPE IS RAPE. Calling it a date-rape, suggests that women, asked for it. This kind of rape is done in a different fashion, but is still what it is…RAPE. The suggestion is that she was drugged, meaning she DID NOT consent! She WAS, er RAPED.

If these RAPES were reported, then another battle happens. The rape kit, the police interview and last but not least, she is pilloried by defense attorneys and has to face the RAPIST. Not to mention the line-up!

Now, the accused RAPIST doesn’t have to prove anything and chuckles as the girl/woman has her entired life affected. She find it IS impossible to live her life. Every unexpected noise, becomes a panic attack. Some hate men and others are forced to watch the accused, either get an aquittal or see him get releasd on bail.

From discovery to an actual trial (if it gets that far), she is poisoned by possible malfeasence and the RAPEE facing intimidation and her own credibility almost ruined. Guys who think, she is easy! What a burden to bear!

Nasty signs are depicting College Women as fresh meat!

Now, there is the college issue!!! There are thousands of RAPES that ARE NOT reported, for the reasons enumerated above. Even more shocking are these hundreds of RAPES, that are NOT reported! The denials of those RAPES are DENIED by College Schools and Universes.

Why? Largely sports-related. As smarmy as this is, some of the refusals and intimidation are by WOMEN! How freaking apalling!! Of all things!! Throwing a RAPEE under the bus! Women as Misogynists, de facto RAPISTS.

And for what? A serial RAPIST! A football or basketball who is basically worshipped. In their recruiting process, the Blue Chip players, recieve HUNDREDS, if not thousands of letters, asking them to play sports.

And some of serial rapists and some of these recruiters ignore their violent tendencies. And it is NOT just athletics, some COEDS are themselves serial RAPISTS. And the motivation is: the school’s reputation! Some Dad’s apple grows horns and some of them, the apple of other their dad’s eyes are emotionally and physically eviscerated.

There is a great documentary ‘Hunting Grounds’ that does more than I can do, in revealing these shocking revelations. I will let you see something, that will PISS you off, I guarantee it!

One other issue is, I had to unfriend a blogger here, because she thought that men can offer nothing to the debate. Oh well! I have sisters, mothers, aunts, a girlfriend (sometimes) cousins, friends and women at large. Being a victim sexual assault, I have more than a right to opine.

As a sidebar, this movie as a two-star movie. Hell, I wonder why?

With 40,000 rape kits un-analyzed, many women give up.

Afterall, RAPE IS RAPE!

She Fell in Love. Can’t be help responsible!

Back in 1974,  I was a kid,   only 18 years and probably was witness in some way to a date rape.   It sure felt like it because as I was leaving out the dorm that night,  guys were pulling a train on a teen girl and some guy asked me if I wanted to have ‘some.’   I said, “no.”   And besides,  the choice of words haunts me too as well as the whimpering that went along with her disorientation.

I was so naive but a part of my soul has been tortured to this very day.   If I knew then what I know now,   I might have gone postal because I cannot imagine a crime worse than that.     You see,   she was drunk and whimpering.   Damnit.   That really pisses me off.  No girl asks for ‘it.’   Not for that.

 

But date rape characterizations are nothing new and for the longest time just generally accepted.   In the movie ‘Animal House’  the guy was contemplating having sex with a passed out underage girl.    Did she ask for it?  NO! Does it happen?   Hell ya!   Is it any wonder so many women want to spread the pain around.

Going a few years into my adult life,   I had a girl friend and she was given a roofie.    The net effect according to her,  was she never felt the same about anything!    Date-raped by her boss at the mall.   She and I went through hell afterwards and my anger @ jerkoffs intensifies.    My girlfriend was only pieces of ceramic,   like Humpty-Dumpty,  those pieces can’t always be fixed.

I suffer too,  knowing that seedy men with seditious desires lay in wait,   like Jack The Ripper or the Boston Strangler.   In these instances the pain is far worse than death.    It is a slow blood-letting of one’s spirit and sense of control.    We had great times and every once in awhile we would talk.

From her bosses abuse of her,  of us really,   she went on a self-destructive binge with an older guy who was a criminal.   Arrested for a crack ball and spending time in prison,   he seemed to like finding young victims.   Her sister said he liked to read magazines like ‘Barely Legal’ and ’18’.      Yeah one of those!    One day her sister gave me a journal she had written and she had talked to her sister about the parasite she was with and how she missed me and my steady decisions and what would I do in a particular situation.   She said I am the guy that returns the shopping cart.    For awhile I was miffed by that but then got the gist of what she was trying to express.     She also got a disease from this miscreant,   Herpes!

(She fell in love in the first place)))

For some reason these words tick me off.    An otherwise innocent girl and not perfect by any  means,   paid the price for both of you and you both should be ashamed.     And I harbor guilt for not being able to protect her from the smarmy underbelly of the beast that lurks with a touch of wind and a wiff of illicit drugs.

If her mom had not been a prostitute and subjected her to so much,   she might have been able to cry on her shoulders.    She could have  told her Mom what he said and did  and your Mom would turn away.   Flushed with anger and disappointment,  words she heard once upon a time. Now reverberating like a song that plays over and over on a music box.   The ballerina fell suddenly and her porcelain dreams laid like a million shards of what ifs.

So let’s examine some of the dubious comments made by men and boys and mostly they are one and the same.     Your high school heroes and high society icons flickered as capriciously as the stories of high school football players and date rapes.   The bottom-line being the reputation of the boys and a girl who was allegedly asking for it.    She was collateral damage in the game of cat and mouse.

He gave you wine or drugs and told you it was okay.    He promised you everything to dance in the sheets and tomorrow he denies that he even knew you or the things you said,  you couldn’t have meant,  if you did say them….

Their friends and influences probably had mixed emotions about the destruction,   from the boss to the drug abusing narcissist whose real romance is a synthetic cesspool of misery.   Both now share in a common malady with excuses and no care for the damage they were doing.

What once was a fairy tale happiness transmogrified into a hellish world of missed chances.   Where lightning does strike over and over again(in the same place) and the pain still flows,  if even now to more or less a trickle.     In the video above  Boy Meets Girl they dance and sing with a love that we all want and yet finally,  even they play a requiem to a love gone strange.     To me,   as I worked in the media in Tampa,   the song was a fresh time.   A promise.   Together with Paula Abdul’s ‘Straight up’,  it seemed life had spectacular promise,  even after a lost preemie and the mother who ran off for a decade and a half with our daughter.

But life has second chances even if those chances require some modifications to retrofit them to make them work.    I do remember what my daughter said about her 16th birthday and how much she loved me.   That that was her best birthday ever.   This after being lost to me from her early post natal days to about fifteen years later.    Still,   I would NOT change things too much because what if we never rediscovered that and that is why the blog about ‘Ten Years a Single Mother’  and her kids love for her touches my heart.   Kids get the connections and their love is pure if they are loved.

The theme of this entire post is what are we going to do.    Rather than just complain about the pain,  how can we fix a thing?   You,   I and many others have lived on both sides of the track and nothing……  nothing gets fixed by complaining.    We need to put people first because a warm place and a hot dinner matters.

To the abuse of women,  children and the vulnerable,   you and I can change the world.    I have a few things going now.    One is to get Emotional Support Animals and Service Pets for people who need them.    Let’s teach men and society in general how to treat a lady and your kids.    We need to focus on identifying potential abuse and treat the family not a case number but take care of it as a village.  With compassion.    No tolerance policies does not heal a family.    Making rules is what politicians do.   Why do we punish people like Aileen Wuornos the way we do?   Why not find out where at-risk people are and help?   That gives us all a better chance of surviving the obstacles in life.

From murderers to offenders of all kinds,   punishment is the easy part,   preventing tragedies can happen and should happen.    That takes  more than a Breathalyzer and seeing if you can walk a straight line.    How much better will this world be with solutions and not grandstanding politicians and other nabobs using the moment for  personal gain.

Education is the key to everything.   Not just laws but helping people be better people.    Not projecting how good we are,  but how good we can all be,  if we just try.   Ghettos are going nowhere and neither are the homeless,  the drug users and other kinds of abusers.   Let’s get this done and stop maligning others.    The old speck and the log thing.

 

 

Dark Shadows Revisited – Building a Mystery

It was during the peak of the Vietnam War that a Soap Operative evolved from an ordinary into a cult classic.  I was only 10 years old and I crushed over the all girls but my favorite was the innocent Victoria Winters (Alexandra Moltke) who is still alive.

The girl is to the left is the fictional Sarah Collins,   the cherubic and sad victim of witchcraft in the series who is only about a year or two younger than myself.    She is 57.    On the right of course was the star-crossed maiden who was the focus of Barnabas Collins.   There was a bit of controversy over her,  that she played a dumb girl with no sense but Victoria was the innocence that seems out of vogue these days.

As an aside,  she was married to a famous man herself who was very rich and was suspected of murdering a past wife before Alexandra.  If I  am not mistaken he was a billionaire in the 70s.   But she was the glue along with Maggie Evans/Josette.     Barnabas tried to kill the evil witch Angelic,  but she put a curse on him and he turned to a vampire.

Angelic really screwed up his life and Barnabas was star-crossed  by the young beauties.

  

Who can blame him really?   The actors were recycled through the winding plots when the term ‘narrative’  hardly existed and purity of heart when in vogue.   Sadly the star whose real name is Jonathan Frid passed away in April 2012.    With his passing I felt loss,  both as Barnabas the vampire and the actor.    The cast members (those remaining) still collect royalties from fan clubs and appearances.

Shot originally in black and white,   which gave the macabre effect of something ancient and mysterious and even the cemetery seemed surreal.   The episodes had quite a few mistakes and fortunately they were not edited out.   I have the entire series on DVD which not ironically is in a coffin.    The feel,  the actual aura gives the viewer a sense of life and the death which are underscored as cast members die.

We are left to ruminate over the scenes and haunting music and the narration of Vicky.   Her voice portrayed a laconic yet powerful burst of other worldness.   It’s like dying yourself,   a tragic person trying to find love in the most strange and awkward.    It seems as Barnabas was coming of age despite his age and happiness just out of reach and you felt sorry for his pain and bad luck.

This was called the ‘Old House’ were some of the series darkest secrets,  with coffins and caveats and expiring young ladies and tragic children with melancholy natures and secrets too terrible for children so young.   Giving the idea of paradox and wistful associations.

DarkShadowsTitle

This old house was a treasure trove of restless ghosts and troubled children while the young adult girls were the food of these particular gods.  As a virtual child myself when computers were like the size of  the WOPR on War games. (the movie).

The then young Vicky is around 67 and yet my affections have not changed and I am no stalker but I know I am not alone in that or the debates which naturally happen with cult followers,  Much like the survivors of Auschwitz,  the leading men and ladies enter for real into a place of dreams and conclusions.

Poor Vicky,  the girl who appeared on a teen magazine was actually younger the Elizabeth Stoddard who was supposed to be around 16-17.   So,  I guess my  be my way back to a time when I could be lost in nostalgia and pine for that kind of happiness that youth and dreams  confer.

As she was about to be hanged she disappeared.   She was kind of like a Jack in the Box with regards to séances and one has to wonder about the psycho-sexual component of the virgin’s predicament.     I think she was getting a bit anxious about being a seemingly helpless waif and wanted to move on.   These days she remembers this all a bit more fondly as I am sure the teen boys in the 60s and early 70s would and will appreciate.

So as we march to the Stairway to our own heavens,   we glide past signs and seasons to an inevitable end and if the journey is replicated by long dusky hallways and a row of doors on either side,  I will take what is behind door #2.  No reason but a spontaneous relish for the sublime and poetically sad riffs like a waning tide.   To a place where,  we are just long forgotten shadows and a dream to the newer batch of melancholy souls.

The Paralytic View – Ismology 101, -Isms and their political intent.

I was reading where George Will was recently fired because of what he said, by basically saying that certain individuals enjoy a kind of sanctuary. Victims to him include those who hide behind that issue, whether it is an ailment, skin color and social orientation.

Those points are debatable but our society has deemed this off-limits. The sad part of that is the fact that free speech is being cut off and it is being done maliciously.

Like George Orwell’s’1984′, “more is less” and the combatants are growing exponentially and they change. The Washington Redskins are a perfect example. The leader behind all of this is decrying the name as racist and it might just be. As I have mentioned before, rape of the reservation is staggering and of course, many blame you and I.

Why isn’t that a bigger issue than a sports teams name? Politics! A putrefied dish of in your face. Like the little kid who provokes others and his big brother bails him out, all the while enjoy the fruits of his labor and finding a codicil in darkness.

It is time we take action. Stop marching and picketing as if this is civil rights. I bet most people do not even consider American Natives(Indians) in their daily prayers and ablutions, rather more a convenient excuse to harass and maim other people’s perspectives. Grow up America! Stop being the world’s arbiter of what is acceptable and what is not.

Stop hiding behind your big brother and fight this battle on an even basis and stop assuming that you are always right. I am wrong often but I do not use my party as justification for my deeds.

There are a myriad of social issues and I think we need to be kinder to one another. Stop trying to be that big brother who seems to be lurking, waiting, like a totem bowl with a ball point pen and easel. That easel is a book of life by people with no clue.

I want to shake you down. My child(ren) Love Story

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uc8wmLul3uw

I used to feel something.   Something like desperation.   

 We were like fugitives from another life, 

  riding the waves of orgasm and then

with little outlaws and outstretched fingers.  

The first blessing of two,   faded like a stranger, 

although I felt his spirit as he left,   saying “Dad do not worry.” 

I just had to say,  “Goodbye”,  because I really did love you both.

Then I told my lover,  “Little David is gone”.  

  I sat and watched as mother and child spoke silently, 

as only a mother can,  now—

  Another empty rocking chair creaked for the last time.

and the rocking chair sang a lullaby,   “Hush little baby,   don’t say a word”.  “

Surely as one ship sails from view,   another will come.   And it did.  

The news came about as a lighthouse parted the fog

but the jagged rocks once again appeared,  

 like little daggers that lined the halls,  

just getting their was perilous.   But the fury of the sea calmed, 

and another blessing appeared upon the stoop.    

But as one tragedy had faded,  another conspired,  

by this time mother and I were tired.   Little did I know or suspect,  

that the next day it was like a hole swallowed them both up,   

mother and child.    The twists and turns of this hallway with many doors, 

had very many vistas,    but some doors were locked.  

   Then one day some 15 years later,  an angel reappeared,  my daughter.  

A friend of my X said Rachel wanted her dad.  A tear and excitement

rocked me like a spewing volcano.  

   The  mother of my child was now no longer a harbor,  

but a battered port and Rachel,  my daughter,  paid for it.  

   The end of this story is a reunion that seemed like continuity.   

Like heartbeats over some rainbow,  the colors appeared brighter, 

than even before.    To hear my sweet day say,   “This was the best birthday of her life”.     I do

not know how to even express the waterfall of love that engulfed me.  

my story