In this era of the human species males attack, damage and kill females and children, antithetical to the reptilian brain’s drive to preserve and continue the race. Rare and tribal in the wild, species engaging in this behavior risk extinction.
In the 1940s and 50s, it probably happened but it was part of a thing society found so outrageous, so terrible that it became ‘unspeakable’.
No longer. Now it’s the core of news, a lament-without-rant if you will. There is no outraged inflection or angry concerned facial expression with this news, much of it is delivered by women, often with a smile as she says the words.
Not only news but also ENTERTAINMENT. Bloody gore inflicted on women on prime time TV, full color, close-ups to entertain us. In some series the victim is always female. There is no democracy. If you were to suggest a story to producers in which a woman kills and mutilates a man they’d look at you in confusion.
The question is why do women allow this. Why are good men not rising up in arms against it. Who do producers think their market is?
These shows are pandering to the most depraved and sick, give permission to make woman as victim and teach our children.
- A STORY: I put the TV on the floor of a closet and my children sat on the floor watching it. Then I put it in the scariest corner of the basement where there were spiders and my children sat, hugging each other, watching it. Then I brought it back upstairs and removed the antenna and came home from work and found that they took the curtain down, neatly folded it, and fashioned an antenna with the curtain rod. So I took the on-off knob off and carried it to work and became famous. They turned it on with a pliers. One morning, after a night in the Burn ICU with a man who’s car went off a cliff and burst into flames, I came home to chairs angled around the TV, pillows in the chairs and bowels with remains of popcorn on the floor. I thought that my children were watching this as entertainment and there was no way I could explain reality to them so I unplugged the TV, called them all into the room before school, said: “This machine is ruining the quality of our lives together.” and put an ax through the screen. Four very astonished children left for school and I went to bed. When they came home, they were cheerful and as usual to me and I said I thought they’d be angry at me and one of them said: “We’re so glad you did that.” After about a week of being at loose-ends, they began painting, putting on wonderful plays, and I bought a pool table for the living room. Life was good. Life was great.