The pellet gun thread got me to thinking about the war atrocities I've commited to small animals when I was a kid. I don't think I stopped until I was 14.
I just might not be a good guy, for if I have to live another incarnation for every Sparrow I needlessly killed, well, I'll be posting in HI forum for a while, albeit not by the handle of munk.
My dad taught me safe firearm use with a bb gun. But there was no outlet for competition or hunting. I knew not one person who hunted. That was a mistake, I can see in hindsight. There are actually a couple atrocities I can't say here- they are too shameful. We used to kill all the insects we could, of course, from burning ants to using snails as pincushions, and who could forget popping polywogs in the storm drain/canals? With our pellet and bb guns, no bird was safe. I even killed a Mocking bird. For all Hollowdweller being a rabid Lefty, I'll bet with his land and animal husbandry and belief system, he never did a quarter of what my mixed up friends and I committed. We were Charles Manson.
We tried Wrist Rockets on ducks, slings on rabbits, fire on lizards, chemicals on toads...nothing the Nazis probably did to people we didn't do to small things. And it hurt, but we did these things still. Mark Twain would understand, Sam Peckinpah would understand, but I never will. I once took a ski pole to a possum, though was unsuccesful. I used to make blow guns and darts.
My son today is a lot like me- he has a deep caring inside him. A 'girlish' caring I was ashamed of when I was young, and learned to hide. But he makes no secret of his love for rabbits and animals. That headless rabbit at the end of the Doom PC game haunts him to this day. His bed is full of stuffed animals. ( we can't have animals because his mother is so allergic- bummer)
Kids need structure and good roads. They don't need wide open nothingness. When the psychedelic drug wave hit Southern Ca, what do you think my mixed up bunch of crazies did then?
For some reason, we stopped at an unwritten point- no burning cats or dogs, didn't rob cars of stereo's or anything like that.
My son's are very different. The oldest will take a Millipede outside to avoid stepping on it. His five year old brother will yell with glee and stomp it to a stain on the tile!
Ah, this infinite Life is strange stuff. With my liberal upbringing, I could stay up late, and had different pleasures available to me my peers envied. When I was 12 or so my Artist Uncle gave me a four year subscription to Playboy. This had an interesting effect. Well, the female form remains tanalysing to this day, but I'm not that interested in photos. I never hung the centerfolds on my wall despite the pleas from my gang of fools- I knew it would be silly.
I'll always remember Barbie Benton though.
It makes me wonder about chicken and egg stuff. Did killing small life when I was young save me from later brutality? Or did it make any difference? Did the Playboy mags save me from looking at women with exploitive eyes, or have any effect at all?
My son's are so different. They seem to be born that way.
When I was 16 I was allowed to 'experiment' with pot in my room. Can you imagine that in 1960's Orange County? Well, it took many years and some jail time for that experiment to end. I wouldn't recomend it.
Today I look at my khuks as tools. I only recently finally swung one through the air- cutting air as you say. I must have come out of childhood and teen time with some integrity potential still intact.
I owe the insect, amphibian, reptile, and bird Gods something though. Just kidding.
Reconciling the 'girlish caring' deep inside accured while wandering the high desert of the Mojave. There is a Great Heart, Christians call it the Holy Ghost, and it sees the name inscribed on each of our own hearts.
munk
I just might not be a good guy, for if I have to live another incarnation for every Sparrow I needlessly killed, well, I'll be posting in HI forum for a while, albeit not by the handle of munk.
My dad taught me safe firearm use with a bb gun. But there was no outlet for competition or hunting. I knew not one person who hunted. That was a mistake, I can see in hindsight. There are actually a couple atrocities I can't say here- they are too shameful. We used to kill all the insects we could, of course, from burning ants to using snails as pincushions, and who could forget popping polywogs in the storm drain/canals? With our pellet and bb guns, no bird was safe. I even killed a Mocking bird. For all Hollowdweller being a rabid Lefty, I'll bet with his land and animal husbandry and belief system, he never did a quarter of what my mixed up friends and I committed. We were Charles Manson.
We tried Wrist Rockets on ducks, slings on rabbits, fire on lizards, chemicals on toads...nothing the Nazis probably did to people we didn't do to small things. And it hurt, but we did these things still. Mark Twain would understand, Sam Peckinpah would understand, but I never will. I once took a ski pole to a possum, though was unsuccesful. I used to make blow guns and darts.
My son today is a lot like me- he has a deep caring inside him. A 'girlish' caring I was ashamed of when I was young, and learned to hide. But he makes no secret of his love for rabbits and animals. That headless rabbit at the end of the Doom PC game haunts him to this day. His bed is full of stuffed animals. ( we can't have animals because his mother is so allergic- bummer)
Kids need structure and good roads. They don't need wide open nothingness. When the psychedelic drug wave hit Southern Ca, what do you think my mixed up bunch of crazies did then?
For some reason, we stopped at an unwritten point- no burning cats or dogs, didn't rob cars of stereo's or anything like that.
My son's are very different. The oldest will take a Millipede outside to avoid stepping on it. His five year old brother will yell with glee and stomp it to a stain on the tile!
Ah, this infinite Life is strange stuff. With my liberal upbringing, I could stay up late, and had different pleasures available to me my peers envied. When I was 12 or so my Artist Uncle gave me a four year subscription to Playboy. This had an interesting effect. Well, the female form remains tanalysing to this day, but I'm not that interested in photos. I never hung the centerfolds on my wall despite the pleas from my gang of fools- I knew it would be silly.
I'll always remember Barbie Benton though.
It makes me wonder about chicken and egg stuff. Did killing small life when I was young save me from later brutality? Or did it make any difference? Did the Playboy mags save me from looking at women with exploitive eyes, or have any effect at all?
My son's are so different. They seem to be born that way.
When I was 16 I was allowed to 'experiment' with pot in my room. Can you imagine that in 1960's Orange County? Well, it took many years and some jail time for that experiment to end. I wouldn't recomend it.
Today I look at my khuks as tools. I only recently finally swung one through the air- cutting air as you say. I must have come out of childhood and teen time with some integrity potential still intact.
I owe the insect, amphibian, reptile, and bird Gods something though. Just kidding.
Reconciling the 'girlish caring' deep inside accured while wandering the high desert of the Mojave. There is a Great Heart, Christians call it the Holy Ghost, and it sees the name inscribed on each of our own hearts.
munk