From:
Matthew Anderson
Subject: Colorado... Hell, the United States of America:
Where *you* can learn to shift the blame.
To whomever reads this--
I don't know if Blue's is the most appropriate place to put this,
but if you find it to your liking, I'm sure you know places that
it should go, and you have my permission to send them there. Thanks!
I love it how instantly
after the identities of the kids involved in that massacre were
known; their lifestyles of computer technology-inclined people;
that the entire adolescent population heralds them as "the
psycho kids who are... just plan psycho," and all of the "concerned
parents of America" label them as "seduced by the media
of this nation."
I mean, I am in contact
with a lot of people by nature, I've been a watcher of people of
all sorts. So, I hear of the welfare-raping, "gots the indent
of her ass in the couch", die-hard Springer fan, single mother
of three who repeatedly slaps their kids because they don't fetch
mommy's Doritos... probably because of a 20 or 30 pound overweight
problem which makes her sweat at the thought of trudging her lugubrious
ass into the kitchen... complain about how kids shouldn't watch
television. They shouldn't be playing those violent games. They
shouldn't listen to that violent music. But, then again, they shouldn't
bother their mother when her soaps are on. "Get the <censored>
outta here or I'll slap your mouth," I've heard from this family
leader, this role model to several young children. And I also hear
the same things, "These kids shouldn't be exposed to this violent
nature. They shouldn't be allowed to access this lewd information
on the Internet, I'm sure as hell not getting *MY* kid access to
the computer," from the multi millionaire family dad, who spends
20 out of every 24 hours of the day away from home... on a business
trip, out cheating on his law clerk of a wife with the flight attendants...
doing anything but be at home. The father who has to lie about the
reason he's getting a sexual harassment suit to their teenage kids
when they accidentally open the wrong mail.
For the first time, folks,
you see the outraged parents of America come together. From all
tax brackets, from all ends of the country, they will fight this
immoral Internet, they will shut down those bloody violent video
games. Once a year, they stop into their local video game shop for
Christmas and say but one thing, "Give me something that isn't
violent." And half the time they don't have the first clue
as to their child's interests, they're too busy running their lives
at work, at the country club, at the dinner club, in front of the
TV, at NA, in de-tox... and they think that they've made the right
choice in getting their kids involved with "the right stuff."
Giving themselves a pat on the back, they proudly brag about how
good a parent they are at the office.
Yet, they are still shocked
when incidents like this happen.
You know, I was raised
by a mother and father who had me when they were 18 and 19. My mother,
for nine years, did every kind of drugs there were, in front of
me, behind me, she got stoned and threw me down the steps, came
down and spanked my ass red. She got pasted with my dad, drunk with
everyone, partied at late hours of the night. My dad was a construction
worker, he worked long, long hours, got up at 5, went to bed at
midnight, and a nap for a half hour in between. My dad got thrown
in jail once, I didn't quite understand why, I guess I never will
know exactly what happened. Even so, ma and dad brought me to the
zoo. Mom took me to the park at least once a week. They spoiled
my ass off the best they could, bought me what they could, it was
never everything I wanted. I saw my parents as my friends growing
up, regardless of their actions. After those nine years and the
two of them cleaned themselves up, mom and dad both did their best
for years explaining to me what happened, bit by bit, hiding nothing,
apologizing for damage caused scars that will never heal completely,
asking me advice, having me help run the house. I say again, my
parents are my friends. My parents never told me never to have sex,
never to try drugs, never to always do my homework. They suggested
what they thought would be best. And they never forced me if I didn't
want to. And to this day, I'm not an addict of any drug, never was,
I've never been convicted of any crime, I've never thought racist
thought about anyone, never judged anyone by who they were, what
they looked like, what they wanted to do with themselves, if they
cheated on their taxes.. nothing.
Hey, I also love it when
you stick someone against the wall in Half-life and blow both barrels
of the shotgun, splattering their insides thoroughly about the wall,
too. I laugh a maniacal laugh when I see the corpses I make in Quake
2. I find it amusing to take a shotgun, blow half the body of Resident
Evil's zombie off, and watch its torso climb across the ground.
I like to play games where you kill people. Lots of people. I like
to read up on Kitchen Explosives. I like to play with weapons. I
like to watch horror movies. I like to watch pornography. I like
to be an exhibitionist with my woman in public.
I'm also a chief corporate officer in my company. I've been commended
by many a business about my professional attitude, my will to succeed,
my problem-solving skills.
What am I getting at?
I'm not saying that I am unique. Quite the contrary. There are many
of me. If you're reading this, I bet you're close to the same. There's
a difference between me and the "Trench coat Mafia" and
every lookalike out there. I had a family growing up. Not a dictatorship,
not a torture house. I didn't worry about sneaking out when I was
15, I didn't worry about getting a poor grade in English. I told
my parents anything they asked. If I wanted to leave for a few days,
regardless of what/where I was doing, or going, I just told my parents.
They didn't ground me when I got bad grades, they didn't give me
fifty thousand dollars when I got an A, either. I did get their
respect, and their trust, from day one. And that's probably the
most important thing that I could ever have asked for. Because when
I see shi...err stuff like this Colorado incident, I can honestly
appreciate the way I was brought up, as meager as it was. If you
don't already know what I'm about to tell the ignorant, stereotypical,
feeble minded and careless parent and government coalition of America,
here it is-- let's not have you worry about how many different pieces
of a person's life you can blame tragedies like this on... Let's
have you accept the blame yourself once and a while, and just take
your child hiking sometime. Talk about all the naughty stuff you
did in high school with them. Let them get drunk and see how they
like the hype. Let them see what they want. There's no shroud that
lasts forever. All you do when you censor your child's vision is
torture and destroy them when they are expected to depend on their
own judgement, their own well being later on in life. There are
things that they might find confusing and disturbing, like death,
like murder. Probably because *YOU* don't talk to them about it.
You don't talk to them about sex, drugs, violence, all you talk
to them about is how messy their room is, how they damn well better
get straight A's on their report cards, how they sure as hell WON'T
be going to that party on Friday. Things like this make me sick.
Just tell them the truth. I hope what I said will make a difference.
I didn't lie about anything that I said, and all thoughts are from
this kind of upbringing... and just about anyone I talk to will
say that I've turned out to be a pretty decent person.
Sincerely Yours,
Matt