What should we do about...

I wrote this thing down without stopping last week and I thought it might be worth some discussion so here it is in case anyone has anything to say on the matter. Spare the tl;dr's. It is long. Duh.

What should we do about the pedophiles?

Here’s a good one: what should we do with the pedophiles? I know what to do with the ones that rape kids: you put them in jail or you kill them. Because though they are sick they did a crime that just can’t be forgave, you just can’t, you just can’t, it’s too bad, cause there are ones like that, crimes I mean, and this is a top one, and we have to punish them somehow, although they are sick, or at the littlest least we have to make sure they don’t get out, never get around children, that they never go into theatres or churches or grocery stores. It’s just too dangerous. It is.

But what about the ones that don’t break any laws? What do they do? Live a whole life of shame and trying all day not to be who they are? And make up a lie so good they believe it themselves? Even though they don’t?

What about the sociopaths?

What about the narcissists? Did you know what you’re supposed to do if you see a narcissist? Run away. Fast. That dude will **** you up and it will never stop happening. Do not stop to say hello and do not make eye contact. It will turn out bad.

What should he do? What kind of life can he have?

And what should we do for the ones that keep getting fired because they’re too weird or bipolar or just socially awkward. The ones that when you see their number come up on your phone you say oh no, oh no, I can’t answer that, I have to pretend that that just didn’t happen. Or I have to think of a way to be polite and then I have to pretend that that just didn’t happen.

And they can’t keep a job cause they keep getting fired. And they can’t have some health care cause they can’t keep a job and they don’t have insurance so they can’t pay for meds and they can’t pay for doctors and even when they get lucky you know those doctors can’t help them, can’t make them better, not even a little, or maybe it’s better a little for them, but that won’t make it better for everyone else. For the ones that have to bump into them no matter what.

Sometimes when you’re all sitting around and you think about who is the right one for the job and a name comes up and someone else says no no no!! don’t you know she is crazy. She did this crazy thing and said this other one: don’t you remember, didn’t you hear? And then the people say oh right or oh I didn’t know that’s so awful. Well **** then they say. Of course we should not hire that person, that person is crazy. I do it too. I did it yesterday and that is a fact.

And here I talk not only of people that have been to a doctor or had titles taped onto their troubles or even ever had somebody say, hey, maybe you should go to a doctor.

Maybe they talk funny when they’re drunk or maybe, mostly, too when they’re not. Say funny things and you don’t know what to do next. You steer clear of those people because everybody steers clear of those people and those people only ever get steered clear of. What about them?

Where are they supposed to work, who are they supposed to love, how are they supposed to live, where are they supposed to live, what is going to happen to them but something impossibly terrible and for a long long long long time that terrible thing is going to happen because that terrible thing is actually their life, is who they are, is how they really do talk. They didn’t mess up or slip up and talk wrong or laugh wrong or not laugh wrong, that really is them, it’s not a mistake, it is how they talk or laugh or don’t.

I know the names of some of the people like that. I’m not going to say them right here but I do know their names. Some I do know and have known for a while. Some I have slept with and some just were friends and some of them too well I didn’t do either. But I have peeked in their world. I have been like them, no felt like them, no been like them, for a minute at least or maybe for five. For minutes or days or for months or for years I have been just like them in a number of ways but I keep getting out, keep finding my way out of it somehow, I talk myself out or I change, but they don’t. They don’t change and they don’t talk themselves out and they are stuck in there, and all all alone, probably even their parents don’t like them, not really, and have trouble about them, about them even living, and I know the names of some of those ones too. I know some of them proper and some of them I’ve even had meals with, I’ve had meals with some of the ones and with some of their parents.

Should we kill them?

I’m serious. Should we?

They can’t be helped. They are like horses that broke their legs. They can’t be made better and they can’t be made right and they won’t be made whole, and they surely can’t walk right because unlike even horses they never did in the first place, so shouldn’t we shoot them just for their own good? I’m serious.

What should we do about the schizophrenics?

I mean, it’s not like we have hospitals for these people, for any of them. And even if we did we can’t put them in together because even the pedophile doesn’t want to get mixed up with the narcissist and the sociopath is probably going to kill somebody or at least be mean and not even care and the angry bipolar is going to say something mean and really care and really need it to hurt the person to which it got said and the pedophile won’t get comfort from the ones like him because there aren’t ones like him and because everybody hates the pedophile. And the weird one? The one that’s just weird? The one that its parents even try to forget? Man, you can’t even think about that, you just can’t even think about it, it’s just too damn bad. Forget about how hard it is to be them for a minute, it’s hard enough just to think about being them. And it’s not like dropping one in with another helps out their social lives. Nobody wants to hang with that kind of weird one, not even the other kind of weird one, they’re just too unpleasant to be around.

So even if there were hospitals that gave comfort or ease or rest or relief or just helped hide away these people in a way that had dignity since they couldn’t have anything else, really even anything except maybe food they could have or maybe beer or some cigarettes, but for someone that can only ever have those things, those things just make everything weirder and worse. Because then you have a weird person that is also fat and you know how we do with fat people, cause it’s the same way with crippled ones: we keep our eyes on their faces and pretend we don’t see it. And at those people too we just smile too much so we don’t move our face at all not even a little because we have too much fear we’ll look them in their sore. And with the weirdo now drunk, well first he gets weirder and then worse he forgets he even is weird and goes out in the world having forgot it and then all kinds of new people have to deal with it and it gets worse than ever. Maybe it gets where the cops get involved and often it does. And it doesn’t help any of these people to smell of stale smoke. Because they smoke inside, they do, they can’t be going outside all the time. First of all they just can’t. But secondly too nobody wants that. To see those people outside, having to notice and know about them and it could be even talk to them too.

So even if there were such hospitals, and there should be, there should be, more than anything else in the world that’s what there should be is those hospitals, more than giving food to starving babies there should be those hospitals, more than giving wigs to cancer ladies, more than saving the whales or even the climate, because those poor people what will become of them, what does? It’s like Eleanor Rigby I guess, but it’s weirder than that. Cause it’s not just the loneliness though that’s clearly a part of it and one of the worst. But there’s more and it’s weirder. Too weird for the un-weird, that’s for darn sure.

So even if there were such hospitals they wouldn’t help with loneliness is my point. How could they? The ones that I mean don’t get liked by each other any more than they get liked by us. The unlikable ones, they don’t get to be liked. But still, they could be safe sometimes couldn’t they? Be safe somewhere having chose not to die but to live out the string. They could have food that they don’t have to find for themselves because things for them, like food or whatever, can be hard for such people, and a bed and a doctor and maybe a nurse that was trained in being nice to people that don’t know how to be nice even to nurses that were trained how to take it. They could have their own TV maybe to watch something they like if they can think of something to like, and some do like TV, and they should all have their own so they don’t have to fight when they don’t want to watch that whatever, the thing that the schizo put on or maybe the pedo or maybe just the plain weirdo, because they don’t all want to watch the same thing. What are they, TV’s? $100? $500? How much is the worth of one damned person’s life in dollars? Not a damn person I say but a damned one, a one without hope. How much do we spend on one of the damned before we say you know what we really do need to spend some on the ones that we do like. I mean, come on, I do it. I buy lunch for my friend sometimes or I buy flowers for Miki. Not much, but sometimes. And I give $5 to that guy on the corner that only ever talks to himself and when he does it too close the others say quick get out of here fast like if there was a fire mixed up with an earthquake and I do it too but I give that guy $5 and I think I just made that guy rich but all he’s going to do is buy more beer and on the one hand that’s good because at least he gets to like something and on the other it’s bad because it makes people run away faster and also it makes him where you’re too scared to put out your hand out to give the dollars or cents because you know if you do its touch will get on you and you don’t want that. Who does? Don’t lie.

But do you know there aren’t those hospitals and that they do not exist?

I’m not talking about hotels or special prizes like TV’s or nurses that act nice when they hate you, I’m talking about places where you don’t get barf thrown on your face by the crazy barf-throwing man or **** from the ****-thrower. Or maybe a place where one unbearable person doesn’t have to be around all unbearable people and always.

When I get depression so bad and I say to myself I am so sick I am so sick I can’t move or eat and I think I might die and maybe I might because at least you need food and too because if you get too sad you can die from pills or too from a gun and sometimes I think I am so sick, I should go to the hospital.

But there is not a hospital. There is something called a hospital but there is not a hospital.

And I’m not talking about me when I say all that stuff. I have a house at least. I have a girlfriend. She could be like the nurse when I need it and she does be like that. Because she loves me and because I am loved and I am blessed in that way though I am cursed in those others and what else is that but a turn of good luck. A one in a million chance.

But those others. They don’t, they can’t and they haven’t.

And so there is no place for these people except for the wilds of the street or the violence of dungeons, also called asylums, also called hospitals, except for the ones that somehow keep going, and keep finding out some kind of way to keep not going to the street or the asylum and you can’t even believe how they did it, you can’t know how they did it and you can’t guess either because how could they do it? It is the wildest trick ever. It is like magic. How they manage to live in those houses.

And do you know we never even talk about it? I’m 43 years old today and I think I saw it on the news once? Twice? And I used to watch the news too. All the time. I watched it religious right up to the time it got canceled for reruns.

There are so many terrible things.

 

I wasn't talking about how to sterilize society, pouhe. The parts about the rest of us were just me being honest about my role in the crimes against them.

I was asking what we should do about the lost people in this world or how we might help those that seem beyond help or how we might ease their pain. You know, just stuff that people who suffer from the disease of compassion might care about.

When you say "give it a damn rest" are you just saying tough luck for those people and you don't care? Because you got lucky and don't suffer from those conditions or have family or friends that do? I am happy for you then even if I'm a little disappointed in your callousness.

Let's extend the question a little and see how far you're willing to go with this. What about those that suffer from:

Alzheimers
Autism
Mental r****dation
Head injuries from which there is no return, from let's say a car accident. I have a dear friend in that exact situation and to see him after the accident having known him before it is to experience genuine horror.

We know what we do with people with Cerebral Palsy or Multiple Sclerosis, for example. We care for them.

The mentally ill? Not so much. No, they have with rare exceptions in human history been treated as witches or demons or scum-suckers to be locked up or ignored.

Are you saying that's just the way the cookie crumbles? If so, you are right. It does. Are you saying you are cool with that?

 

Nice post, thanks.

I don't wish for a 'Canada' or an Australia (once as we all know a penal colony) and I certainly don't wish for an exile. When/if I suggested that I was being extreme to make a point. And the point is this:

We have no mental hospitals in this country.

There are dungeons that only make people sicker and there are Betty Ford Clinics for the criminally wealthy who get too groovy on too many fun drugs or who suffer from "exhaustion."

But genuine care facilities for the mentally ill?

NONE. Not in this country anyway.

 

The plight of the pedophile (for whom it is literally not acceptable for him to be him -- just like every other problem person I wrote of) came first in my post because I knew he would be the most obvious example of a general problem: society's unwanted, the ones that don't get cured or even can't and have no place to go but the streets/jails/streets or to be locked away in a dungeon. I expect you know that if you know literally anything on the matter.

You seem to be saying our society is doing a good job (or even a relatively good one) at addressing this problem.

Answer me this one question then: Are you f***ing s***ing me?