Chapter Five A - The Mundane Autopsy Part I

Back once again for the renegade master, D4 damager, with the ill behavior!
Sorry, my intros need some work, but still, 10 points for reference.

Anyway, I've finally found some more things to fatigue you with. I'd really like to be able to get 2 posts per week or some other, random, more productive number, but that's not going to happen. You see, I live a very dull and insignificant existence; shocking, I know. So, no stories about wild lady-boy prostitutes or base jumping Christ The Redeemer with your mother, naked. The only things that come close to any excitement are my past misadventures whilst intoxicated. And I either forgot most of them or I am too embarrassed to regale you with that, for now. My point is: It's hard to write pseudo-interesting anecdotes when naught is happening and you're basically a parasite doing nothing. Making matters worse, I tend to slack off and game for the largest portion of my existence, as we've covered plenty already.
Must resist writing about games! It's harder than it looks, for me.

In my quest to write about other things than gaming, I do what I think most writers do. I go out and observe things that I could use for inspiration. And when you're a shut-in, that's a seldom occurrence. When you're void of social skills, looks or other positive trait to enable such gallant behavior as showing your face outside, inspiration tends to flicker on the low end. However, this Friday was one of those rare exceptions where I venture out into the world. I would stay in, but fate would have it that I need nutrients and those are only found in stores and such. Scientists need to get started on the never-ending refrigerator posthaste for agoraphobics. It's hell for us to go out in the loud, scary world and dwell amongst others. I believe it's the loss of control over our environment that panics us the most. But for now, let's pick up all our courage and head out the door.

I'll warn you right now, my trip will not be more enterprising than your journeys out. So stop reading now if you don't feel like perusing through the mundane. Because, this is what this will be: A large dissection of mundane events.
At first, I was a bit reluctant to bore others with this, but somehow on this trip to the store and back, something opened in my mind. I suddenly had quite extensive and comprehensive articles forming in my mind about affairs I saw. It didn't start that way, mind you. Everything started halfway back home on one special circumstance I witnessed. In a few moments, a large portion of texts had formed and connected with each other on several situations. Some of those situations had already passed me and flashed back into my memory, like a good soul would store it and retrieve it from his episodic memory. A rare event for a person with virtually non memory, like me.My walk towards the store however, was routine as routine gets. Walk, cross the street, cross another street, cut through the square, mind traffic, yet more walking and then finally, store. Nothing happened that my brain would take the effort on remembering; not that it's such a workaholic on that part.
In the store, basically, the same thing happened. Except if you count the fact that this shop is too lazy to ever refresh their supply of vegetarian pizzas. Again, shocking; I eat a load of pizzas. My efforts on this healthy characteristic get constantly thwarted by this policy of only replenishing the stock when depleted. Also, there are only 4 pizza's, one in each container box. Four pizzas, amongst hundreds others! Who invented this monstrosity? I must remind myself to write a very angry letter to the government
pizza company. Let's try not to dwell on this. I solved my problem by taking some nasty fungus pizza with me; a sad compromise that makes my stomach cry.

At the checkout, I was waiting for my turn with my cart, as malodorous simpletons in front of the row left their carts to get more groceries. Nothing out of the ordinary here. People always get half their groceries, go to the checkout and then go get the rest, so they don't have to wait their turn in line. It's a very discourteous and aggravating habit.
I had some time to kill, so I looked around for that time or people in substitute of it. Behind me stood a man with a pack of chocolates and some crackers, which would undoubtedly serve him for a royal meal. As he only had two items, I decided to let the good sir pass me in the line. And I didn't do it to put him in the danger zone of the malodorous oafs in front of me, as he also reeked quite bad. Also surprising, I had snickered at him earlier for wearing a tacky leather cowboy jacket, with fringes so large, it was a disgrace to God himself. But in the nature of common courtesy, I believe I was doing the right thing.

I'm a large partisan of the idea of common courtesy. In the late eighties, early nineties the notion of letting people pass you was still installed. But later on, it got replaced and somehow the exact opposite started to happen, as people let others wait in line for their own selfishness. It used to bother me quite a lot, as I used to be one of those customers who'd only buy 2 things maximum. I'd count the endless times I wouldn't be let through, while I waited for an elderly lady to check her brimming cart she'd never be able to store. Later on, I decided that if I wanted things to change, I'd have to show some initiative, instead of sulking quietly at the injustices of this world. And so started my concept of common courtesy. Selflessly I'd let people pass me, without once being returned the favor.Until some time last year, when I was out shopping with my girlfriend, someone let us pass. I was a bit awestruck and told the misses, who concurred with that occurrence. Since then, this has happened 3 more times, I think, which is a lot by my count.

This has triggered me to let people pass more and more, which leads us back to the checkout on Friday. I waved the cowboy forward and told him he could cut in line. To my surprise, the man even declined as he stated he needed more items from the checkout itself. I insisted one or two more items wouldn't waste my time anymore than now and urged him forward, which he was thankful for. It feels kind of good to try and instate some politeness back in a world so jaded, we all look out for number one. Even if only the gesture for now counts and doesn't start an upward trend; we take what we can get. Also, it made me notice the lady at the checkout reacting more friendly towards me than she would usually do.

At some points, these employees are so fed up, they unconsciously insult basically every customer. My girlfriend once noticed this, when the lady in question talked to her in broken English, because she believed my girlfriend was an immigrant that couldn't speak any Dutch. That's fairly harsh when you're not even remotely foreign.

So, if I can slowly start snowballing this tendency of more amicable behavior with simple actions, I'm all for it. It would make our environment less stressful to go through and would ultimately benefit us all. I urge anyone to do the same as good deeds set forth other good deeds. Who knows, perhaps we can swing the handle all the way back to the gentleman ages of the early twentieth century.

I have been taught to believe any insight fluctuates in a pendulum motion. Hence, in times with extreme boorish behavior, we are on the end of one swing. This will revert with growing momentum to a time where manners and decency will overtake the rude. And ultimately, we will go to the well known expression that history repeats itself. While I wait anxiously for everyone to get on the courtesy cart, let us press on.

Leaving the store with a good deed in hand, it is now time to go home and put all those nice ingredients in my tummy! And so, I walk on what should be the return trip of the routine, with the walking and crossing and all that. A few yards outside the store I see a young man leaving the house and marching in my direction. As he advances, I notice about 5 feet away that he's a foreign lad. From the moment my brain captures this, my heart rate heightens and sends a panic reaction to my paranoiac body. This continues until I am at least 20 yards away from him and am certain he is far away from me.This is something that happens quite frequently as I am, for one, a huge paranoiac and secondly, live in a social housing neighborhood that consists mainly of these kind of people. Don't read more into that statement than there is. All I'm saying is that these unfortunate souls are all as poor as I am and can't afford other housing. It is not my fault foreigners can't make as much money as others, it's not theirs either. Their chances get limited due to prejudice and that's a crying shame.Knowing all this, it really made me wonder: Why does my mind react this way? Why do I, and many others like me, immediately panic when faced with foreign lads?I felt quite guilty for that reflex and I state here and now I have never been assaulted or otherwise bothered in this neighborhood, the entire time I have been here. The only times I've felt discomfort, the people involved were as native as they could be. It makes me wonder where we get this preconception that all foreign boys are out to get you. I started to contemplate and, together with my knowledge from my social studies, I thought up a theory that I find just.

It's, again, unfortunate, but most encounters we get with foreigners, are bad seeds। The reason for this is multi-layered. We already stated that foreign people or people from that origin have a harder time creating a larger income. It's not their fault, I'm not saying they're lazy. In fact, I got proof of that yesterday, when I realized the clerk from the store across my house was the same person standing in the night shop next to me. That man had been working a double shift and that was the second time I noticed that to happen here. I couldn't spend my entire waking day serving people behind a counter, just to get some money, how easy that job may sound. This smaller income also means that they will have less to work with. Result: Smaller, cruddier houses and less luxuries, with probably more people to support.

For everyone to have their space, children often go play in the streets, instead of at home, so to not disturb the hardworking adults and possible elderly living in the house. At a young age, these children are put out into the street with little to no control, nor supervision. Another factor of being poor is that these kids get bored. You can only do so many things on the streets with no money or supplies to entertain oneself. It makes them easier prey to look for alternatives that might not be legal for them to get their kicks. This also means that they must face their frustration of being poor at a constant rate, as people with more means than them pass them and possibly look down upon them. Believe me, this is a horrible feeling to go through every single day.
Being more vulnerable to crime, they're also easily approached by older peers to do their evil bidding, be it under pressure or not.

Most kids on the street also suffer from setbacks in their education. Again, it's not completely their own faults, most of the harm is done by others. When going to school, they might have problems grasping a language or a concept that seems foreign to them. Most schools do not bother with aiding them to overcome the obstacle and place that responsibility in themselves or their parents. It's one of the most ignorant things you can do, because they will not be able to cross that bridge themselves and neither will their parents. Otherwise it would not be a foreign concept, if they were taught so at home. Unfortunately, this means at age 12 they will already have built up a setback so vast, they will not be able to recover from it. Can you imagine what it must feel like to know you will not excel at age 12? It must be a crushing thought, if you are able to grasp it.

Another problem with their education is that, even if they get stimulated at school, they will not be aided at home. Most parents do not care for a (higher) education and offer no support or backing for the child to go on. They have not had those chances in their lives and those who aren't bittered about that fact, just can't offer any help to problems they, themselves, do not understand. As family is an important factor in most cultures, they will willingly cast aside the education to follow the path their parents would want. It's a shame, but without that early backing from backing and a minimum of support, it will not change.

So, now they have no chance of succeeding at life, probably suffer from self-esteem issues from being let down constantly and are bored. It doesn't take a scientist to see that this mix largely enhances the chances of violence or other crime. They're angry, young kids and weren't taught to control this into something more productive, so what do you expect will happen? I don't mean to condone it, but it some cases, we forget to look at both sides of the pictures.
I would like to indicate at this point that I severely hope not to come off as judgmental in any way in this past comment or the following.

This leads me to another big factor for our nested fears: The media. Yes, I know, what you're thinking, not another media bash. I fear it will involve a slight whooping, sorry. Every time we see a crime acted by a foreign looking person, the media tends to make the sap look as bad as they can. I'm not saying they're not bad men, hell, in some cases they are the monsters depicted. Let's just say not every hoodlum is a terrorist; some people are just pissed. In the spirit of sensationalism, we also like to drag out the pictures as long as we can, to really smear that fear in your unconscious. If some upstanding white boy commits a crime, it's a shame, but after a few days, it's history. If however, you are not so upstanding, we'll do all we can to smear your photo's, name, house and any other undisclosed information so long and profusely, you will not be able to forget. It will be everywhere; in every magazine, web page, newspaper, TV show and other media you can think of, usually in the most pejorative manner one can think of.
It reminds me of some video's that the papers and news channels brought out of Ronald Janssen of an attendance he made to a barbecue. Justified by mentioning he wasn't as distraught as he had mentioned in his confessions, this was completely inappropriate and left me feeling appalled at the standard level of journalism in my country. I don't care what monster a man is, you don't dig through his personal, private affairs and show them in the public light. Specially not if it isn't relevant to any aspect of the case. It made me feel worse for the murderer than for the media portraying it.

Another media trend I do not like, is the glorification of fad and superficial entertainment. This is more a personal note, I believe, as there will be plenty of you already sucked in and loving this filth. It does however not aid a youngsters cause to see how rap and r&b music can venerate stupidity, violence, misogyny and wastefulness, amongst others. Don't get me wrong, plenty of other genres that have that as well and also, there is plenty of good rap out there, be it meaningful or not. But none of these genres get the widespread attention than a, let's say, Kayne-douchebag-royalty-West or Katy Perry. You might think Cannibal Corpse is pure filth on tape, but they don't have an airplay of 5 hours a day on every major network. Poor Marilyn has to take all the blame by himself for going commercial enough for TV. Hey, what do you know? Another reference towards Manson; soon enough people might link me to a school shooting or such.
Anyway, the glorification doesn't stop only at the songs, but spreads itself to a large portion of the overall culture. Resulting in your ten year old daughter walking around in hoochie mama clothes and stiletto heels. Although, the parents are really to blame on this one; educate your damn kid! Pardon my French.



Remember how this post was just me going to the store and back? Those were some nice memories, let's get back to that for a line or two. I let the guilt of my panic reaction wash over me and proceeded home. All went well as nothing occurred for a while, but then it happened. The one thing that set forth this slew of worthless anecdotes I now annoy you with. As I was on my way back from the store, I proceeded to cut through the square in the opposite direction. In front of me was a young woman with child, pushing a pram about on the side of the street, where it's flatter for the infant to have a smooth ride. So far all seemed normal to me and I proceeded my way home. In her right hand a cell phone went off and so she looked at it, pushing the pram blindly forward. Again, I didn't think much of it; I myself walk bits blind when I receive a message. Looking sporadically at the road will warn you well in advance of any problem ahead. But then as she had read the message, she nudged the stroller forward, releasing it with both hands, to have those hands free to send a text. My mind was blown!Now, of course, you and I both know the child was never in any real danger, but that was not what had me stunned for a second.
What stupefied me was the gesture itself. What would drive one to push away, what should be your most sacred creation ever made and blindly ignore it, while it rolls onto an intersection? Yes, we were at an intersection and on top of that a parking lot exit. Where did I miss the moment a text might, even for a second, be more important than your offspring? I didn't even write it off as an exception, because years back, this would not even have entered the mind of any mother. It was inexcusable.

To make matters worse, I witnessed the same thing two days ago, only even worse.In the previous case the child was not ever in any realistic harm. Though it was a bad mother move, at least there was no big probability of anyone getting hurt. Perhaps a slight one and that's more than you can afford. But in the case of two days ago, it was just blatant bad parenting.
Right of the bat, you could see this land-cow was a bad mother. Am I saying fat people are bad parents? Heck no, they're usually great parents. In this case however, the person in question had noticeably let go of any dignity and had stopped caring at all. It's amazing she was even taking care of children, be it poorly. Therefore it was of little surprise she had about 5 brats following her and her friend was an equally horrid apparition. I'll try not to bash the lady on appearances anymore, it's not nice. Let's trash her on her skills instead.
We were on opposite sides of a crossing when we met. I was slowing down and looking on both sides to see for traffic. She and her troop would have none of it and she lunged forward with one pram and some kids. Other children and her other stroller had not received the hasty message and were left behind. My mind was blown once more as I saw said person leave her one pram behind to retrieve her other lost pram together with some kids. All this on a very busy street with oncoming traffic. And here's where the apparent danger sets in. The streets here are really crooked and apart from leaving her own kin to their fates, the one stroller now was rolling back onto the street. She had to scramble back to recover the infant, so it would not get hit by any traffic. A sight to behold, knowing she probably rolls faster than she walks. I did it again, didn't I?

You could say I hold my part of the blame for not going after the carriage myself and the thought crossed my mind. However, I'm not the one responsible for her little monsters to survive. I wouldn't care a lot if they all got hit by her misbehavior. Out of common courtesy I would hold my "I told you so" and helped them if they had been injured.
Anyway, this flagrant disregard for her own family's safety together with the previous incident made me realize to which extent humanity truly is jaded। Somehow along the way, we have put more importance in our own interest, over all other odds. Now, the concept of selfishness isn't new; we all take care of ourselves before others. But it has taken such pervasive proportions that we now fail to care for anything else, even if it holds the key to our genetic legacy. As long as we're immediately satisfied in every aspect possible, all is fine and damn everyone else. Freud would be proud to see our Id growing rampant; I however like some restraint. I am still baffled how you can be deemed fit to educate children and then do something remotely that bad; even once! It is utterly inexcusable and that's coming from me! I'm fairly sure I would make a horrible parent. My logic factor is too strong for it and my aversion towards ignorance too big to be able to bring forth a normal, rational and mentally healthy child.

I didn't contemplate this on my way back home from the store, because I had pizzas to eat, pronto! It was time to move on from the intersection and head onto the last straight line home।In this straight line, I encountered more things to speculate about as my mind had just been opened। That and there were some outright strange or, at least, unusual things going to come across my path। These things will be told some other time. But rest assured, they will; for I want my pizzas in my belly, not in writing limbo!
Good day.