12 year old girls

Should We Charge Children as Adults?

On May 31, 2014, two 12-year-old girls in Waukesha, Wisconsin, allegedly held down and stabbed a 12-year-old friend 19 times; when questioned later by authorities, they reportedly claimed that they wished to commit a murder as a first step to becoming “proxies” (acolytes) of the Slender Man, having read about it online. Thanks to the intervention of a passing cyclist, the friend survived the attack. The attackers were charged as adults and are each facing up to 65 years in prison.” - Wikiepedia

12 year old girls

News is reporting that they are being charged as adults.

Two 12 year olds.

I am inclined to say “Two twelve year old girls,” but their sex really shouldn’t matter.

Two children, ages 12, being charged as adults for anything to me is so wrong, so heinous, so appalling, I feel it overshadows the crime itself. I seem to be alone in this. As of yet I don’t see much debate on the issue, but maybe it’s coming.

What these girls did was incredibly gruesome, and for reasons that make the crime even more baffling. It boggles the mind.

But they’re 12! They are not adults, and no judge can argue that they have the mental fortitude of an adult. If I were the victim of the crime, or the victim’s parents, sure I’d have a hard time wishing anything less on them. I might wish they got the chair. But that doesn’t make it ok.

Personally I am under the belief that a 17 year old should not be charged as an adult unless said child was emancipated. But I do understand why with certain cases people want children tried as an adult. But at 12 years old I feel we’ve set a dangerous precedent, and done much more than crossed a line. We removed the line. And it sickens me even more than the crime itself. And in this case, that’s saying a lot.

If You Could Rewind Time and Meet Elliot Rodger, Would you Kill Him?

Elliot Rodger, in case you did not hear, is the now infamous gunman killed six people and wounded at least seven more in a series of drive-by shootings late Friday near the campus of the University of California, Santa Barbara on May 23rd, 12014.

I was watching this video, and listening to his disturbing take on life and what he seemed to feel was his calling.

A question popped into my head. If you could go back in time and see him what would you do? It’s like the age old Hitler question.

Telling anyone about this would likely do no good. At best, you could save a few lives in exchange for a few others. Maybe you could convince the authorities to figure out a way to check his bedroom and find the weapons, but they were all purchased legally from what I understand. I don’t know that anything could be done to convince anyone else to stop him. So suppose your only real choice is to kill the boy. I found myself wondering if I would do this. And then I asked myself if I would do this even if it meant I would get caught. My life (incarcerated for the rest of my life) to save 6 others.

But then I came to the conclusion that I would meet him. I would talk to him. I would see if there is any way I could make a friend out of him. Maybe I could influence him. But he’s not exactly the kind of person I would ever want to be friends with, besides the homicidal impulses. The materialism, the sexisim, the privilege, the sickening ego, he’s not my type of person to be around. But  still,I think that would be what I would try to do. I would see if he would be my friend and I would try to change his life. And if that didn’t work, I suppose I don’t really know what I would do next.

Update:

Then I watched this video and I decided I’d  just have to kill the little fucker.

I was Never Supposed to Amount to Anything

My mom just reminded me that I was told by professionals that I would never be able to make a decent living or function in society normally and should be put on social security.

Well, they were half right. That whole “decent living” thing took me a long time, and that “normal” concept is one that I will never master, but I’m totally ok with that.

It was also made abundantly clear to me that socializing and any sort of interacting with people was never going to be my strong suite. My head just didn’t work that way.

I owe my life, my skills, my talents, and my dedication, in no small part to those many teachers, professionals, and children in school that said I would never amount to anything. I was told I was useless, worthless, stupid, brilliant but too learning-disabled, too sickly and too fat to be anything significant. I was told these things countless times. I was beat down many times, both literally and figuratively. I was tortured by my pears and my teachers often washed their hands of me.

So I tried harder.

And almost every single thing in my life that I am very good at today are or encompass are the very things I had so much trouble with growing up. People say I am talented. I usually have a chuckle at that. I am often called lucky. I tend to laugh out loud at that one.

If you or someone you know has heard over and over again that you’ll never amount to anything, that you’ll always be limited, or that you have no control over your own destiny, let me tell you from personal experience that this is where greatness comes from!

If you suffer from these sort of cruel and stupid people in your life, I hope you too can find a way to use it as fuel for your greatness. And if you are the parent of a child who has these sort of issues, please be patient, take your time, and do every thing you can to help your child find their path, but without pushing!

The Reason I had these Issues

I was diagnosed with ADHD and had a host of other developmental disorders. I was autistic (Asperger’s syndrome) and dyslexic but my mom never tried to get all of the diagnosis she could and Asperger’s syndrome was rarely diagnosed and my mom didn’t feel the need to have me tested over and over or labeled any more than I already had been. I was tactile defensive and I had very serious social skills issues. I didn’t understand things like sarcasm and eye contact was very difficult for me. I did very poorly in school and was told I would never be able to spell or go very far in school, but I did go to college for a short time and got a 3.0 while skipping most of my classes mastered those social skills well enough to basically talk my way into As and Bs and the work I did manage to do was exceptional thanks to my mom pulling me out of public education to home school me). 

My mom is my hero, and this is a phrase I do not use lightly. She knew the system was failing me, she knew I was smart, and she couldn’t stand to see me beat up by my pears anymore. She was tired of fighting with the school to get my needs met. If memory serves, he took me out of school when I had two years left. In one year she took my reading level from elementary to college, and my math, writing, and everything else improved dramatically as well. She did this for my brother too.

Give it Up

When you give up everything and live on next to nothing in so many ways, the little things can not only make your day but your whole month or more.

I’m nit just talking about stuff. I am talking about giving up on a career, on giving damn what people think of you, giving up on trying to make everything perfect, giving up on expectations.

I still live with much of this, but every time I let another piece go I feel a little lighter, a little more free.

Six Signs You Might Be An Asshole

1. You don’t let people switch lanes in front of you when you drive.

2. You don’t mind taking up one and a half parking spaces because you are in a hurry and backing up and parking correctly takes just too much time.

3. You use the phrase, “just saying…” on a regular basis.

4. You use the phrase, “It is what it is,” regularly.

5. You think that calling someone a hippie is an insult.

6. You meet assholes pretty much everyday.

-As the saying goes, you met an asshole in a day, you met an asshole. You meet 10 assholes in one day, there is a good chance you’re the asshole. (This is also true for idiots!)

Gun Control

Do we need it? Do we want it?

I think I understand both sides of the issue. I also do believe that it is entirely possible that some of the shootings, especially the recent ones, were orchestrated by powerful people. I’m not saying this is true, I am saying it’s not unlikely.

Do we need assault riffles?

Two answers I hear, “No, our founding forefathers did not have assault riffles in mind when they wrote the constitution.” And “Yes, the whole point of gun ownership is to protect us from our government.”

On one hand, I do not like our government. Not at all. And I hate being told what to do or how to live.

On the other hand, I don’t like guns. And I don’t like killing.

Should all guns be illegal? Or should we only allow hunting weapons? Or should we only ban the most dangerous weapons? Or no ban at all?

I don’t know. But I am 100% sure of this. Guns are not the problem. Medications, horrible food, the consumption mentality of our society, these to me are the problems. Gun deaths are a symptom. And it also seems to me that our government, bought and paid for by big business, is doing everything they can to make us all good consumers. And if we don’t fit into that mold, they would like to throw us in jail.

I am ready for a debate. And since I really haven’t made up my mind as to where I stand on this issue, I look forward to being very involved in this post, asking questions and throwing out ideas supporting and opposing both sides.

 

In jail I was trying to lay low…

In jail I was trying to lay low. I didn’t want to make any friends. Once those guys get to know me I end up playing doctor, therapist, attorney, and general problem solver all day and night.

Of course I charge vegetables for my services.

But as I said, I was trying to lay low. I didn’t want the drain. I was sleeping, reading, writing, working out, and thinking about getting home to my scared pregnant girlfriend.

But this guy was limping so badly. It pained me to see him suffer when I could fix it so easily.

He was the most popular white guy in the dorm, second most popular overall (the dorm was 80% black). He was always working out with a gang of friends following. And always in tons of pain, limping badly, squeamishly hobbling often.

Finally, I couldn’t help it, “Want me to fix your knee?”

“Nah brother, it’s a torn ACL. Doc says I gotta get surgery, nothing you can do. I’m actually getting it fixed 2 weeks from now, a few days after I get out”

Later, when the pain was unbearable, he asked me, “What do you think you can do? You a doctor or something?”

“Something…”

“Say man, don’t be fucking around, can you help my knee or not?” he said sternly. He was flexing. But he was desperate.

“No, I can’t.”

After his friends ganged up and starting giving me the third degree as to why I said I could and now said I couldn’t I said, “I can’t because he said I can’t. Now look, dude, you want me to fix it, I’ll fix it right now, real quick. Then I can get back to this shitty Patterson novel, ok?”

“Whicha gonna do bro?”

I hopped down off my bunk, had him lay down, took his left foot, and put his arch into place. It was out and flat, causing his knee to buckle, straining his injured ACL. It hurts to have your arch put back in. But he did his best not to let anyone know, until someone asked, “That hurt?”

“FUCK YEAH IT HURTS!!!”

The audience laughed, and then they all questioned my methods. I told them I would tell them all in a bit, had him stand up, and told him to squat. He told me he can’t. I told him to just try, just once, carefully. He did. Slowly, with great trepidation, to his amazement, he went all the way down. His knee popped once and his back popped 4 times.

“God dam brother!” he said ecstatically. Everyone was blown away. I noticed his hips didn’t fall completely in place yet, and did a minor adjustment and then told him what he needed to do to keep his knee pain free for the rest of his life without a doctor. He asked me why no body knee about this. I told him there was no money in what I did for him, but he owes me hie veggies every other day from now on.

Before I knew it, once again, I was the dorm doctor, therapist, attorney, and general problem solver all day and night.

S0 then I got in a physical fight with a guard and ended up in the hole for some piece and quiet.

Whatever the hell I want to say