Friday, February 29, 2008

Domari Nolo

In my morning reading today, I got linked to another blog I hadn't gotten to previously. Go and read it.

Done reading it? Groovy.

I'll preface what follows by saying I'm usually a very good humored kind of person. Granted, most people think I'm a murderously angry misanthrope, but those who know me know better. I don't get visibly mad, ever. Neither my wife nor my children have ever heard me raise my voice even. While I get irritated sometimes and might even use harsh language (especially while driving), I got angry so rarely it's almost a curious experience.

Today, reading the above story, I went incandescent. There's so many people involved that needed a severe beating. The security guard who 'saw everything,' the unmitigated jackasses who just stood and watched, the contemptible cowards who advised 'just giving them what they want,' and of course the bastards who actually attacked her. Those sub-human troglodytes beat her while she was down, just to get her purse? Those two needed their brain cases ventilated badly.

Speaking of 'just giving them what they want.' Are you kidding me? Has that ever helped anyone? Has sheep-like submission ever got anyone less raped, murdered, robbed, or beaten? 'But if I fight back, they'll just hurt me worse!' (Bleet! Bleet!) Maybe, or maybe they were going to kill you eventually anyway. When you submit sheepishly, you empower your predator and make yourself contemptible in their eyes. Congratulations, in the syllabus of lowlifes, you've labeled yourself a victim to be preyed on. Worse, your attacker will be emboldened to attack others. Way to go!

Our heroine goes on to describe how she would react if she were attacked again. I about stood up and clapped.

"If I'm ever in that position again-- unarmed and under attack -- I mean to come away from the experience(even if dead) with at least the trophy of one eyeball from my tormentor with which to festoon my trophy case. Next time would/will be tooth-and-nail. If I have time to access it, my weighty little Leatherman will be slammed forcefully into an accommodating temple-- I will do my best to kill with my bare, immaculately manicured hands: no more Mr. Nice Bitch. There are kneecaps, eyeballs, shins, insteps and wedding tackle among the array of vulnerable areas on an attacker, and I'll set about my business if I must."

That, gentle reader is the mentality.

From a self-defense perspective, everything is just tools, YOU ARE THE WEAPON. You are the only thing you can always count on having.

"I didn't believe in just handing it over, and I don't even moreso now than ever. I'm still no Linda Hamilton, but I think this is a principle that applies not just to possessions or your life, but to our very freedoms and rights as human beings. Don't just give it away without a fight. Passivity gets you nothing but soundly and thoroughly ensconced in the bitch-seat, and you teach the aggressors they were right to disdain you."

That last sentence is worthy of being a motto.


phlegmfatale said...

Wow - Aaron - I'm honoured and humbled you thought so highly of what I wrote. It was nice to walk my mind through the events of that night and realize that despite the bad feelings the whold situation inspired, that I didn't let it stop me living my life or going out and enjoying myself.
Thank you for the link, and for the kind words. I didn't expect anything like this kind of response, and I'm so heartened and validated by such support.

Weetabix said...

+1 on your evaluation, Aaron.

And, PF - I applauded your post, though I didn't comment. You're a star - you don't have time to read all your comments. ;-)

Aaron said...

Now that's not fair Weetabix. She took the time to respond to every single comment. Must have been pretty damn time consuming too.