Jonathots Daily Blog
(4105)
Sitting Twenty-Eight
All at once, Karin was chilled by a startling realization. She considered herself to be an intelligent, astute, and even clever discerner of human emotions, especially being able to separate the false from the true, with some regularity. Now she found herself completely overwhelmed by the common sense of two twelve-year-old boys, whose argument not only left her perplexed, but nearly breathless with its sincerity.
Was she going crazy? Had she spent too much time in the desert with these two youngsters? Or perhaps it was just her own internal questioning about the hypocrisy of the society surrounding her, surfacing and finding voice in the two adolescent rabble-rousers.
But there was no doubt about it—Karin Koulyea, newspaper woman extraordinaire, was stymied. She realized that Iz and Pal could not be coaxed back to their former lives through the presentation of treats or the sum token of receiving a little more freedom.
She took a deep breath and then growled at them with the most gravitas she could muster. “You see, here’s the problem. They are grown-ups. They have earned the right to be stupid. The years that have passed, that have grayed their hair, have also given them the privilege to do stupid things. I’m not telling you I agree, but I am telling you that nobody cares what my opinion may be on the matter. Guys, they don’t have to make sense. Of course hate is stupid! But hate is what they always do when they run out of ideas. And if you ask me, government is what people do when they feel they’ve lost control. If you’ll just hear me for a second, I, Karin, your friend, am just telling you that they are not going to let you continue to be your own little country out here in the sand.”
Iz interrupted. “I suppose you’re talking about the rally.”
Karin was taken aback. “Iz, how did you find out about the rally?”
He just shook his head. “They wrap some of our food in newspaper, so as we sit and eat the cheese and bread, we read the local news. We understand that next Thursday, they plan on coming out here and taking us away.”
Karin sat for a moment. Pal started to speak but Iz reached over and put a hand on his leg, encouraging his silence.
Finally Karin asked, “So what are you going to do?”
Iz lifted his hand, motioning toward Pal, giving him the moment. “You just don’t get it, lady. What do you mean, ‘what are we gonna do?’ We’re gonna stay. They’re the ones who are going to cause trouble. So as long as we don’t fight, they’ll end up looking like the troublers.”
Iz interrupted, “And we will end up looking like the heroes.” The two boys exchanged a high five.
Karin didn’t know what she felt about their statements. There was an optimism that might have a grain or two of truth, but deep in her heart, she was aware that the staunch purveyors of religion and culture would never be satisfied without dominating.
She reached out and took each boy by the hand. “They won’t let you be what you want to be—mainly because they all want to be something else but have convinced themselves that their God is mad at anyone who is truly happy.”
There was a moment of stillness, almost resembling understanding. Suddenly, Iz crawled away on all fours, across the desert sand, stumbling to his feet, and walked a few paces away. Turning, he said, with tears in his voice, “What good is it if we start something out here and don’t finish it? How are we any different from them? They make peace treaties, and the first time it becomes hard to follow, they drop it. They make promises to love and care, and then they just forget.” He stepped toward Karin. “We will not forget. And we will never give up.”
Karin struggled to her feet, stood and pointed at Iz. “Yes, you will. Because they will make you give up. They will defeat you and humiliate you and make you seem even younger and smaller than you really are.”
Karin turned to include Pal in her words. “Maybe when you’re men someday, you can change the world. But nobody changes the world with a child’s hand.”
Pal leaped to his feet and pointed to Iz and back to himself. “Doesn’t the Bible say, ‘a little child shall lead them?’” he asked defiantly.
“The Bible says a helluva lot of things,” Karin scoffed, “but the Bible always gets shouted down by folks with money and power.”
The three stood in the desert, exchanging glances. Slowly, Iz stepped over and sat back down. He looked off in the distance as if speaking to the universe. “I don’t care about that. We have a plan.”
He quickly glanced over at Pal, who widened his eye sockets to well back the tears. Pal nodded and added, “Yes. A plan.”
Karin pivoted and turned to them, a little bit shaken by their tone of voice. “Well, come on. You can tell me what the plan is.”
As if on cue, Iz and Pal stood and began to kick the soccer ball back and forth, running in circles around Karin, bouncing the ball against her legs, off her hips and then, her head, closing in nearer and nearer to her.
“Quit it!” she screamed, angry and frightened. But they didn’t. They kept kicking the ball, dancing in a circle around her. She stumbled, nearly falling, and tried to push back at them, but they kept kicking the ball, encircling her. They were laughing.
“All right, you little jerks!” she screamed. “I’m out of here!”
Gaining her balance, she rushed past them and stomped away, but as she left, she turned and said, “This doesn’t change anything. You can chase me away, but you can’t chase the goddamn world away.”
The two boys continued their kicking and playing, ignoring her words. When they were sure that she was far down the hill and would not return, Iz stopped, wiping the sweat from his brow. He turned to Pal, panting, and said, “She’s just like all the rest. She doesn’t understand. No one understands.”
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Jonathots Daily Blog 
G-Poppers … February 16th, 2018
Jonathots Daily Blog
(3585)
There’s no upside to horror.
After seventeen bodies lay in a schoolyard, riddled with bullets, any attempt to assign valor, purpose or mission to such a scene of mayhem is sacrilegious.
G-Pop insists that three things should never be stated:
A. “They’re in a better place.”
No mortal can say such a thing for certain. Since we have not navigated the oceans of eternity, we should be careful touting our knowledge from our port of bewilderment.
B. “There were heroes.”
There are no heroes in a murder spree. There are people who die, people who intelligently run and people who feel compelled in the moment to step in and try to stop the craziness. All of them are victims.
C. “No one saw it coming.”
Liars.
Rather than getting worked up into a froth over gun control, sit down and understand the process of what causes someone to reach a point where they unleash bullets into the bodies of their brothers and sisters.
There is a fourteen-step process. Yes, at any point in the fourteen steps, these killers can be stopped.
1. “I’m disturbed.”
You know the crazies in your family. Take care of them.
2. “I’m disturbing others.”
Disturbed people are not satisfied with a solitude of pain. They want notice, attention and to inflict heartache on others.
3. “I insist on being the victim.”
Disturbed people who are disturbing others will accuse them of bullying and mistreatment.
4. “I threaten.”
This is the first sign that the soul of the human in front of you is beginning to disintegrate.
5. “I am drenched in self-pity.”
Look for lack of hygiene, wearing dark clothes, smelling bad on purpose, grimacing and hiding away.
6. “I plot.”
Not the final plot–just ways to communicate that everyone is crazy and he is misunderstood.
7. “I intimidate.”
Sometimes it’s animals. Sometimes a next-door little boy, but they always go through this phase of domination.
8. “I write warnings.”
Read their Facebook. See the journal they scribble in. It will be filled with rancor and hate.
9. “I purchase a weapon.”
10. “I practice.”
11. “I am arrogant and brag about my gun.”
12. “I wait for the right moment, which will seem logical to me for committing my insane action.”
13. “I warn.”
There’s always someone who’s told.
14. “I kill.”
Pursuing gun control is a piece of liberal propaganda to pass the responsibility for the poor mental health of many of our young people on to the National Rifle Association.
You can’t tell grown-ups in America what they can’t have or do.
But you realize that disturbed people go through a definitive process before they kill. The children in Parkland knew who the shooter was long before anyone told them. Why weren’t the grown-ups listening?
Every young person in America, along with his or her SAT scores, should have to pass a basic mental health exam before going to high school and then college. Maybe before high school.
It is not an intrusion–it is an inclusion which will protect them and those around them from the screaming demons that want to release hell.
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on February 16, 2018 at 3:37 pm Comments (1)Tags: a better place, animals, bullets, crazies, disturbed, Facebook, gun control, guns, hell, heroes, high school, inclusion, intimidate, liars, mental health exam, National Rifle Association, Parkland, plot, propaganda, rancor, SAT test, school shooting, schoolyard, self-pity, seventeen dead, threatened, victims