LET 'EM FALL! Part II

Those rules, those guidelines that I mentioned in part I have evolved from generation to generation and have the potential for disaster. (Take a look around) Go ask any kid who's been pumped with so many narcotics that his eyes can't open all the way if he/she thinks all the emphasis on fitting in is a good thing. Despite my rather unique behavior and refusal to play well with others, I was never given medication or put through some of America's great therapy programs that worked OH so well for some of my friends whose parents lacked the balls to deal with a kid who's a little off the meter. No matter what wierd crap I pulled or how many people I pissed off, my parents never gave in to that American "save the children with sedatives" way of thinking. If I were born just ten years later I'm positive that I would have been given a healthy dose of pure bullshit in pill form so I consider myself lucky.
I can see it on the playgrounds of America. You people have given up on your children. Let me give you a little insight on how people with a little character might handle this situation: Let 'em fall. It's ok to step back and watch that little shit bust his ass every now and then. They learn from such incidents. You did the same thing. You learned by making mistakes. How did you figure out that you have to knock on your parent's bedroom door when you wake up in the middle of the night from a bad dream? I bet that image is scalded in your skull. Take it from me, my first is a real handful. He was one of those kids that had to be in constant physical contact with you. It didn't matter when or where, when he got the urge to fidget he would drive me to merengue and it's quite annoying when a small boy refuses to stop probing your ear lobe until you've lost consciousness and shit on yourself. When I say he brought my wife and I to the brink of insanity, I mean we were capable of setting the house on fire just so he wouldn't have such a cozy place to perfect his craft as a C.I.A interrogator.
Now, back to these rules that are supposed to turn our little crazy ones into controlled big ones. First off, I offer no mercy to those of you who chose abide by these guidelines. I think that those of you who go overboard deserve to be flogged in public. Second, everyone wants a pefect, little, obedient prick following them around, not questioning a thing said to them so you listen to any doctor who says, "Yeah. He's touched all right. Mix some of this in with his food and don't worry if he sleeps til his 30th birthday", as he pushes a bottle of multi colored pills with a picture of a dead fox on the side of it into your hands. Stop this shit. You're doing more harm than good and your kids will hate you for it. There is no good reason why generation after generation of teens and young adults who are starting families of their own should swear to a god that they don't really believe in that they will never, ever, ever turn into their parents. There are only a chosen few who don't contemplate shitting in a pond when thinking about growing into their mommies and daddies and they are either truly lucky or truly fucked.
To be concluded...

LET 'EM FALL! Part I

So I was reading some poetry that I had written and I couldn't help but notice that my poetry sucked anus. When I think poetry, names like Frost and Bukowski come to mind. What I have is a series of grievances that should be filed with the union. Every poem was one long bitchfest. Not that this is a bad thing, at least I'm aware of how shitty things have been since I replaced religion with thoughts of my own in '94. But it did get me asking why I hadn't perched my fat ass on top of a telephone pole somewhere and heaved heated jam baskets at the public. You figure someone with so much to be angry about would have done something to release a little of that aggresion. Well, my parents always told me that people get ass raped in prison so I decided to start playing the drums ... and occasionaly beat the shit out of someone but that's not the point. The point is that I didn't turn into a headline that turned into a movie of the week that turned into a reason to smother your children. Here is my call to action: STOP FUCKING WITH YOUR KIDS!!!
Stop telling me that they're the future and that they're important. I know this. I have children of my own and would do anything for them. What I will not do is climb up their ass and make sure that every single thing in their lives is to my liking or follows a certain standard. I like taking people's standards and shitting on them. I don't follow any rules and I don't expect my kids to either. I can only imagine how many of you are getting flustered and wishing you had my phone # so you can school me on parenting. Calm yourself. I don't mean rules like, "Don't kill the neighbor's cat then shit on their porch while you draw a hop-scotch grid that instead of numbers has all the funny little different ways of saying the word vagina." No. I mean rules like the unwritten ones that have been burned into everyones psyche. The ones that are supposed to make you fit in and be accepted. You can ask many of the fine folks that attended high school with me about how I love conforming to the norm. I almost got kicked out of school because I drew a shitty picture of the vice principal blowing the janitor, made 250 copies then plastered the walls with my master piece. Need I say more?
To be continued...