The country is facing some major challenges. Take George Zimmerman for example. Take Robert Bales for another. The first asshole shot an unarmed seventeen year old kid (allegedly*). The other shot seventeen women and children, asshole that he is (allegedly*).
Both of the circumstances trickster us into easy answers on first speculation: racism is always easy as is killing Islamic foreigners, or at least we assume these things are not only possible but probable. I will offer that both of those reasons, which the media and social media display, moving people to step down or the amendment of some law, are inconsequential almost one hundred percent in both cases.
I will explain with the aid of this essay the true causes behind their crimes: boredom, inaction, and hero envy.
Drill Sergeants like to illustrate during training how useless a soldier is without a weapon. In fact, I will even go so far to say that a man / woman only transforms upon equipment of such a weapon. The same of course holds true for the warrior without a war. Or in the case of George Zimmerman, a wannabe buster ass security guard—without the badge or the beat to walk. He walked his own neighborhood and even stopped a burglary in a prior case, according to The Miami Herald. The support to label the scrubby security killer a racist comes at us quickly but after some thought I surmise we would need to be the racists for his plan to work. He chose a target that he believed would warrant praise and reward: a young black male. Remember we had 17 bodies on our hands—there was no demonstration in New York and certainly Afghan brown isn’t dark enough for Al Sharpton. Presupposing Zimmerman was indeed the hated racist man, so fucking what man, a child is still in the ground and groups of people are still angry.
The Staff Sergeant named Bales went on a kill crazy rampage in Afghanistan (allegedly*), though in his defense I will remark it was during the ugliest of human conditions: occupation and invasion of another country. And his job was on par with cleaning up last nights party without him for the far superior and active engaged, Special Forces. The sick maniac was cleared by the Dept. of Defense—and so the reactionary Americans of today call for a faceless professional’s job. They want, nay, demand the inefficient that cleared the soldier to fight must be shit-canned. Short of Jesus Christ, Mohammed, or Nostradamus, no person, no matter the universities attended can tell how a soldier will and should react to any number of the gruesome scenes warfare is likely to sporadically produce.
Pointing the blame on shell shock is tough to swallow, when we consider the role of the Staff Sargent: sentry guard.
Three rotations in Afghanistan is like Club Med compared to our grandparents that soldiered through one tour in Vietnam—I know this because our post-war stares are much different. Whereas we have seen—the Nam vet’s eyes are vacant. They still can’t make sense of what we have not seen. And they couldn’t facebook from Cambodia.
The Staff Sergeant turned psycho not because of some bump on the noggin’ just as that half-Mexican Zimmerman guy probably wasn’t a clan member. I am arguing that they both met at the crossroads of boredom and hubris.
Glory was dancing in front of their skulls. It must have been right?—who the fuck volunteers to be a professional killer in a far-away land?—and it really takes a sicko to rat his own peoples out down in Florida as a rent a cop. Zimmerman fortunately was turned down by the crooked police, which really screams just how our military loves scooping up the bottom of our barrel, as Bales not only was accepted but gained the rank of non-commissioned officer. It’s always important to picture these people handling M-16s and representing us on foreign soil, next time you go to vote. It is doubly amazing that after growing up with Top Gun and the girls that reward the Maverick, this shit doesn’t happen more often.
In chasing the spoils of hubris’ greed, eighteen lives were spent. One of those lives greatly shadows the others. The seventeen year old’s dark colored skin forfeits anything else we may learn about the actual boy’s identity. I would rather know who is favorite dunker was, if he himself had a jump shot, and what NBA team he followed? I only know he had some candy and tea–oh and for some reason a long sleeve shirt with a hood is important?
The disservice is twofold. Instead of a collective nation of citizens realizing we have dangerously little healthy outlets for human male evolution’s DNA design of killer and protector, we have a situation in which we can simply blame the number one sin of the current zeitgeist. That McCarthyism is now referred to as intolerance or simply racism—whatever those two terms mean. Isn’t extreme tolerance a paradox? One can’t force another to accept anything, thus negating one party’s tolerance for the others. Our nation’s love affair with race has only driven science into the differences, microscoping those differences, disguising this as awareness, and dangerously driving us apart.
Returning to that second disservice to the victim, I have to go no further than showing a media, the yearly Sharpton cameo, and too many articles like this one in which a corpse is used to resuscitate life back into that mythos of race this country has been speed-balling lately.
Since we are young men, we are taught about Pavlov’s dog through self-example. We watch rewards resolved through violence. We are asked to participate on a graded scale in school. Both of these systems simply serve excellent examples of what the two killers sought after. Both were soldiers inside their mind (which is all that’s needed for any mission) and simply wanted to be accepted and prized as such. Three things absolutely necessary to win an army medal: right time, right place, and though even if you get lucky with the first two, the right people must witness the heroics, not to mention he /she must like you—or else snatch the hubris for themselves, right management in any corporation? The two vigilantes from hell had none of those three. They had the spoils of war in mind, without the three recipes needed to earn them.
I am not defending these cold blooded motherfuckers (allegedly*). I am simply tasking us with the burden of dutiful neglect—neglect the color of skin as you would their shirt, shoes, hair, or kin. Neglect the urge to run with the sexy folks discussing those traits. Neglect the empowerment you feel from getting your information from a vast network playing telephone over Ethernet lines. We just don’t know anything.* That I know :)
The information in Baltimore Maryland sounds and looks like this: “the victim’s family believes he was targeted because he was black.” The reporter said that while the news showed a large crowd of black folks gathered in Union Square, New York with signs displaying all the very words I am calling for us to reject: the boy’s race—or worse, empowerment on such a level that they knew the killer was a hate monger of black people.
He may have been all of those things, though I believe you and I strongly value freedom. As American’s we must. Equality and freedom are keywords of our country rivaled only by money. And so he has every right to hate. He does not have the right to harm and since he did, the same system that tried O.J. Simpson will get its days with Bales and Zimmerman. Which we all remember moved slower than the DMV line on Saturday. Sometimes under educated cops botch the job and race has nothing to do with police being magnificent or the government, as they pooped out that DMV line…
We must neglect our urge to regress by binding together via our bloodlines. The evening news transports me back to the South circa 1950 with one group of people looking alike, chanting together—impulsively driving the outsider to instinctively defend something. We have manufactured hate out of two cold-blooded killer’s boredom and it has swept our America off Her feet.
My solution comes now: ignore something and it goes away. Evidence this method continues to work for me: I forget about the topics of race and the Reverend Al Sharpton—that is until the media puts them back into their place, which is nowhere near my place.
This essay would be a perfect substitute for any examination on bullying as well. All of our violent behaviors appear from a lack of something—call it boredom, group think, or compensation. Only self-expression replaces all of those things.
Self-expression speaks for the individual, not running to dissolve within a mass of people with the same culture. Melting into others negates the need for us as specific individuals capable of self-generated ideals. Recusing back into those groups, crews, or clicks, snatches the opportunity away for time and place by sheer numbers, is the very definition of group-think, and finally, it allows an entire group to compensate for one’s own expression while swapping older traditional views in favor of new ones. This happens from youth, begetting the cycle.
In support of that equality we American’s love, I call attention to the division the media scene above describes, while a child looking forward to an NBA Western All Star Team that would destroy the so called “Dream Team” of the lite balling nineties, is no longer around to watch it. I have observed this era of basketball’s greatness because, like Trayvon, I love basketball too—and I am truly sorry we didn’t share the game together.