Today a ten-year-old girl
threatened suicide at school because
a trusted uncle had molested her.
What kind of ******* world
has this become?
Police were called,
Child Services arrived,
statements were taken.
no doubt social workers
were stirred into the mix.
I am a man of the 20th Century,
just old enough to remember outrage,
to remember when too much was taboo,
to remember personal honor.
When I was a kid, this monster
was snatched from his bed
by righteous neighbors, dragged begging
to a private place beyond help
and been beaten nearly to death
by the fathers of other potential victims.
Imagine a circle of men, ordinary men,
mostly World II and Korea veterans:
insurance men, car salesmen, farmers,
store keepers, salesmen, even a lawyer
tightening the circle in the torchlight.
The monster begged, pleaded, wept,
wet himself, **** himself, whimpered.
The sheriff watched, smiled,
and then rearrested the pervert for resisting.
Had he lived, the monster would never
have touched a little girl again in our town,
knowing that his life would be forfeit
and end abruptly and anonymously.
Probably, he would have just slunk away.
This new state of bureaucracy cares nothing
for the victims it claims to protect.
It only wants the paperwork filled out correctly.
I was 11, 1962 in a quiet sleepy town.
My father took me to see what evil brings,
the best lesson he ever taught me.
If I had been old enough I would have joined in
without so much as a twinge of regret.
You liberal ostriches can call this brutality if you like.
I call it community action, community justice.
People protecting what is there's to protect
when the official guardians just go through the motions
I miss the 20th Century. I miss justice.
~mce
May 15, 2015
May 15, 2015 at 7:39 PM UTC
Today a ten-year-old girl
threatened suicide at school because
a trusted uncle had molested her.
What kind of ******* world
has this become?
Police were called,
Child Services arrived,
statements were taken.
no doubt social workers
were stirred into the mix.
I am a man of the 20th Century,
just old enough to remember outrage,
to remember when too much was taboo,
to remember personal honor.
When I was a kid, this monster
was snatched from his bed
by righteous neighbors, dragged begging
to a private place beyond help
and been beaten nearly to death
by the fathers of other potential victims.
Imagine a circle of men, ordinary men,
mostly World II and Korea veterans:
insurance men, car salesmen, farmers,
store keepers, salesmen, even a lawyer
tightening the circle in the torchlight.
The monster begged, pleaded, wept,
wet himself, **** himself, whimpered.
The sheriff watched, smiled,
and then rearrested the pervert for resisting.
Had he lived, the monster would never
have touched a little girl again in our town,
knowing that his life would be forfeit
and end abruptly and anonymously.
Probably, he would have just slunk away.
This new state of bureaucracy cares nothing
for the victims it claims to protect.
It only wants the paperwork filled out correctly.
I was 11, 1962 in a quiet sleepy town.
My father took me to see what evil brings,
the best lesson he ever taught me.
If I had been old enough I would have joined in
without so much as a twinge of regret.
You liberal ostriches can call this brutality if you like.
I call it community action, community justice.
People protecting what is there's to protect
when the official guardians just go through the motions
I miss the 20th Century. I miss justice.
~mce
True incident
