I love animals, I do work at my local shelter, and am currently working towards becoming a certified dog trainer. I presently have two cats, one of which is a rescue cat, and if I had room, I’d bring the dogs home too. I lost my oldest shelter cat to cancer about a year and a half ago, and I was actually present when my childhood pup was euthanized.
I tell you all this so that no one assumes I don’t care about or understand the issues facing homeless animals or shelter life, etc. because what I am about to say may be unpopular to some of the more sensitive “animal people.” Although I understand people wanting to think comforting things when they lose a beloved pet or animal companion, I really don’t get the Rainbow Bridge thing.
The Rainbow Bridge is the theme of a work of poetic prose written some time between 1980 and 1992, whose original creator is unknown. The theme is of a mythological place to which a pet goes upon its death, eventually to be reunited with its owner. It has gained popularity amongst animal lovers who have lost a pet. The belief shows similarities with the Bifröst bridge of Norse mythology (source).
I guess it is supposed to be like Doggy Heaven or whatever. I don’t even really believe in people heaven, but I recognize and respect that there are a huge number of people in this country and others that do. But does anyone really believe in the fabled Rainbow Bridge? I’d assume it is used mostly as a metaphor for our beloved animals finally being at peace in the afterlife…or something. But I swear, the way some people talk about it, it seems to have taken on a
afterlife of it’s own.
**EDIT: I swear, I just saw a perfect example of this. A friend’s dog passed and one of his friends told him “…hes crossed the rainbow bridge and running and playing with all the other luved furbabies who have left..hope him and [my cat] are chillin together…” Maybe some people would find comfort in that… but if someone said that to me when my cat passed, I’d probably have wanted to throat punch them… Because to my ears it just sounds like one of those well-meaning but ultimately hollow things people say to grieving people.
It is interesting to note that there seems to be some discussion among Christians as to whether or not animals “go to Heaven,” when they die, and whether or not they have “souls.” Perhaps this is part of the reason some may feel a need for animals to have their very own heaven to go to when they pass from this world. (1), (2), (3)
But, though I would not begrudge anyone mourning a loss something that gives them comfort… I don’t believe in deluding myself for comfort’s sake either.
However…this would be nice…
Do you believe there’s a real Rainbow Bridge?
Do you think animals go to Heaven?
Feel free to (respectfully) discuss!
A combination of two things has lead me to this post. 1) Some of the silly things that people say to others who are grieving and 2) Conversations between my husband and I, brought on by — what else– the binge viewing of our latest series, Supernatural (yeah, I know, we’re a bit behind the times.)
Suffice it to say, I’ve had angels on the brain. What they are. The nature of angels. Especially the paradox of an angel, who presumably has not been given the gift of free will that humans enjoy, yet nonetheless is able to choose to defy or oppose God, and thus, fall. I don’t really have a full enough knowledge of the bible to be able to reconcile this. Perhaps the answers are there, perhaps not. But what really piqued my curiosity was something my husband said while we were watching our show.
Sometimes his wealth of knowledge still surprises me. Don’t tell him, because we don’t want to swell his head all up. But what he said was that one of the biblical descriptions of an angel alluded to a creature shaped like a wheel, and covered in eyes. Something about that just really intrigued me. My regular readers would probably be not at all surprised to learn I almost immediately thought of the Alex Grey art for the Tool albums.
Well, that, and in my mind’s eye, I also saw a more traditional “wheel”, the circumference of which was runged like a ladder and studded with stylized eyes. Something about the image was just so intriguing to me.
So I did what I always do in situations like these; I googled that shit. First and foremost, I wanted to check the accuracy of hubby’s memory– hey, he’s impressive, but his memory has been known to be, eh…selective…and I’m a natural skeptic. But in this case, he didn’t let me down, and I found some basic information on the angels to which hubby was referring. Wikipedia describes Ophanim as:
The ophanim or ofanim, refer to the wheels seen on Ezekiel’s vision of the chariot (Hebrew merkabah) in Ezekiel 1:15-21
“The Ophanim…are creatures that function as the actual chariots of God driven by the cherubs. They are characterized by peace and submission; God rests upon them. [They] reside in the area of the cosmos where material form begins to take shape. They mete out divine justice and maintain the cosmic harmony of all universal laws.
I love this image of angels– the mystery of it, the otherworldliness and distinctly non-anthropomorphic visioning of one of God’s creations. Something not based on a purely xenocentric imagining of some man, with a man’s motives.
Granted, this description was likely written by the same person or persons who initially transcribed the rest of the bible, but it is a far cry from the Renaissance era imaginings of angels.
Anyway, I’m not religious by any stretch of the imagination, but I do consider myself spiritual, and this image speaks to me in a way that makes me almost wish I did have a dogma that included creatures as awesome as the Ophanim.
Obviously, when it comes to death, everyone handles it differently. Though the stages of grief may be similar, every person’s individual experience with grief is unique. Differerent people find comfort in different things.
Death can be a touchy subject for many, myself included, and that means finding the right thing to say to a grieving person can be hard. In the wake of losing another acquaintence from high school, I have been reflecting once again on society, people, and the role of social media in the grieving process. Many people are clueless when it comes to tact, even in their everyday life, but especially in times of other people’s sorrow. Often, even well meaning people unwittingly say the wrong things.
My personal policy is ‘when in doubt, keep your mouth shut.’
Unfortunately, a lot of these people don’t have any doubts about the stupid things that may come out of their mouths.
As I said before, everyone finds comfort in different things, so to say that all grieving people would be annoyed or insulted by these things would be presumptuous of me. But I will say, when I’m grieving, I do sometimes want to smack people who say certain things.
So here are a few things I try to make it a point not to say to someone who has lost someone else.
1) Who died? – Especially with the emergence of social media sites and “smart phones”, people seem to have forgotten some very basic manners. If you must look in on your friends’ grief when they post about losing someone, there are waaaay more tactful ways to ask about their loss then “who died?” (Yes, I actually saw someone say this, this morning.)
2) They’re in a better place- Oh, really? That’s nice. Personally, I prefer being above ground to below ground. Oh, you meant Heaven? Well, that’s sweet of you to say. Really a nice thought… except, I’m an atheist, so…yeah, that doesn’t comfort me a bit.
3) At least they’re not suffering- Yeah, you may be right. Maybe their long battle with cancer is over, or they no longer have to fight their addiction… Or maybe they were just out with friends last week, having a grand old time, smiling and laughing, enjoying their life until it ended, perhaps suddenly and unexpectedly. You know… not suffering.
4) She/He’s lived a good long life- Yup. In fact, their life was maybe so awesome and good that they (and the people who loved them) will probably miss them like crazy, and wouldn’t have minded them sticking around for a bit longer.
5) Heaven has another angel- Um… like I said…atheist. But even if I wasn’t, humans don’t become angels when they die, do they? I thought angels were created by God before humans ever existed. Maybe I’m being ungracious, and people are just saying things like this to find comfort in what is likely a very confused and upsetting time. But, again, to me at least, these types of sentiments ring a little false. They offer me no comfort, and in some cases, not a little bit of annoyance.
6) The good die young- Yep. But, then again, so do pimps, drug dealers, and, often, rock stars. Chances are, the deceased was none of the above. We all have light and dark. The fact that there seems to be no rhyme or reason to who lives and who dies is part of what makes death so hard to accept. And please, don’t say
7) It was part of God’s plan
Not to me, anyway. I might not be able to restrain myself from smacking you and then telling you it was in God’s plan.
I have also heard some people say that they hate it when people say “If you need to talk…”
I personally don’t think that would bother me, unless the person saying it never seemed to notice my existence before my grief. Some people just thrive on other people’s drama. And maybe grieving people get tired of talking. If you feel you must say something else, asking your grieving friend or relative “what can I do (for you/ to help)?” may be reasonably safe, and then leave them the option of what telling you what it is specfically they need (and it may not be someone to talk to…)
Basically, unless your grieving friend opens one of these avenues of conversation (for example: indicating they believe in Heaven, or mentioning that they are glad their loved one’s suffering is done) the best bet when addressing someone who is in mourning is to just say, “I’m sorry” and not much else.
In Memory Of Greg Knapstein (1981-2013)
Happened across this article on People about the Duggar family; apparently they’re considering adding to their already ginormous family of 19 by adopting.
While I think it’s lovely for a family to open their hearts and their homes to orphaned children, and while supposedly there is no question of the Duggars being loving parents, I can’t help but be a little annoyed.
I know, I know. I’m generally a proponent of the mind your own fucking business theory and practice, I can’t help but wonder…
At what point are these people considered child hoarders?
What is this pathological need they feel to “collect” children ?
They say they have to make sure God wants them to adopt first. Do they have a direct line to God? A toll free number maybe? If so, I wish they’d share that shit with the rest of us. We could maybe clear up some of these pesky questions about same-sex marriage and prayers in school…and meat on Fridays during Lent.
“… we all acted alone, we were caught alone, and every one of us will have to die alone. But that doesn’t mean that we are alone.” (Hans Fallada, 1947)
“Every living creature on earth dies alone.” (Donnie Darko, 2001)
“Everybody dies alone.” (Firefly, 2002)
“Son. Everyone dies alone. That’s what it is. It’s a door. It’s one person wide. When you go through it, you do it alone.” (Dead Beat, 2005)
Are you afraid to die? It seems like a simple question, but it requires you to be brutally honest with yourself. What are your beliefs? Are you religious? Do you actually believe your religion’s tenants on death and afterlife?
I suppose it could make a difference to you if you genuinely felt God will be with you when you shuffle off the mortal coil. But I imagine some people clutch to their ideas of an afterlife specifically to keep at bay the terrors of death. What happens when we die? Do we just cease to exist? I for one can’t conceive of not being aware, not being able to think.
Have you ever had a serious illness or injury and felt that black stab of panic? Am I going to die? Maybe you’ve just been in a significant amount of pain and felt like you would die. (If you’ve ever had a migraine, you might sympathize with the thought of wishing for death, or at the very least, a long narcotic induced oblivion.) I suffer from anxiety and panic attacks sometimes as well, which can make even a non-life-threatening situation feel exponentially worse. Suddenly, you think that migraine may actually kill you…just give you a stroke or something.
In these moments, that’s when our true feelings about death surface.
I’d like to think if my family was on a plane and it was going down, I’d be okay as long as my last moments were spent with those dearest to me, my husband and child. But it’s been my experience that when you are in that moment of fear, panicked, you are completely alone.
Don’t get me wrong. Not every death is untimely or traumatic. You may die of old age, going peacefully in your sleep, or surrounded by loved ones, but death is a door and it’s only one person wide. We all walk through it alone.
In bed the other night, I was thinking (as usual) about my search for God, or answers anyway. And I stumbled upon an idea that seemed like a mini epiphany. Before I get into the meat of it, this is a call to my followers and all who might happen up this post to perhaps help me answer a couple of questions and thus move myself further to finding my god.
My question is addressed to people who were raised in a secular or non-religious environment. However, if you feel you have something to add to the conversation that does not involve the usual rhetoric involved in discussing religion or random and lengthy bible quotes, by all means please comment.
The idea I had, and what I want to ask you gentle readers is sort of a two part question:
What is the source for the desire to search for God or a higher meaning?
If we are raised in a completely secular or atheistic environment where it is never suggested, inferred, or taught to us that we need or should have a god, do we still inherently feel a need to seek one?
Perhaps now you can see why I specified readers raised in secular environments. If as children, we are in any way introduced to the idea that religion should be a part of our lives, especially if the introduction comes by way our our parents, who have a heavy influence on our thoughts and feelings during our formative years, then that idea may always be a part of us, even if our intellect bucks it (like mine does.)
This is specifically my problem, by the way. My brain tells me there is no way there is someone “watching over” us; if there were, our world would not suck so much. Yet there is a part of me that likes the idea of a gentle father-figure who loves us unconditionally and keeps a place for us by his side.
Although I don’t relish the idea of him watching me while hubs and I have the “sexy time.”
I suppose this question could work in reverse, but I know the story of disillusionment and lack of faith on a more personal level.
I have long considered myself someone who is reverent of nature, and even dabbled in Wicca for a while, but in the end, even ideologically pleasing religions like Wicca, Hinduism, and Buddhism still incorporate deity worship, in many cases multiple deities. Moreover, embracing nature alone means embracing the idea that everything is essentially form and function, part of the circle of life, and there really is no higher meaning, aside from survival and continuation of the species.
So, as I said before, though this post may be another one of my introspective and theological ramblings, it is also a call for interaction. Please feel free to (respectfully) share your thoughts.
When I was fifteen, I told my dad I didn’t want to go to church anymore. I very calmly explained to him that it wasn’t right for me at that time in my life. I never wanted to believe just because I was afraid not to, or because I was afraid of death. (And believe me, I am afraid of death.) I told him maybe one day– when I was ready– I would come back to the Church. I tried to explain my well-thought-out reasoning to him maturely…
And then I told him if he tried to make me go, I’d stop coming to his house for visits on weekends.
Needless to say, I didn’t have to go to church anymore. Maybe he understood…maybe I broke his heart a little. But since that time I have been searching, in my own way, for the answers.
For some people it’s simple. Some people were raised with a faith that they never felt the need or desire to question.
Some people are so immersed in their faith that they literally can not conceive of someone doubting God’s existence; they use rote faith as proof… ie. “How can you look around at this beautiful world and not see God everywhere?” Sort of solipsistic, isn’t it?
And then there are those who insist that faith is about believing in the absence of evidence. In other words, if you want to believe, you just believe.
I am none of these people. I have issues with organized religion. I’d love to believe there is a God, but I’m not sure I 100% like the Catholic God I was raised with. Or rather, the representation of him. Many, many Christians interpret sections of the bible in ways which suit them, latching on to certain ideas, rejecting or ignoring others. And then there is the question of how literal the bible is to be taken, and then how to interpret the contradicting ideas–
-Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live… but…
-Thou shalt not kill.
Only God is allowed to judge, yet we make judgments on our fellow man all the time, often based on our interpretation of “God’s word.”
Then there is the question of whose God is the “right” God.
Also, I have a very analytic mind. My majors in school were Psychology and Sociology, so I tend to approach the idea of religion and faith in the context of those disciplines.
But all of that’s academic. In other words, it’s not the real point of this post.
A couple of years ago, my husband and I went through a period of many losses. Jobs, family members, a miscarriage, our home… At four and a half months pregnant, hubby and I uprooted and moved 800 miles on three hours’ notice. We were going through a very financially and emotionally stressing time, my husband’s unemployment at one point being held for three months (three months with NO income and a baby on the way,) and my mother and I were in the worst fight of our lives. I actually worried the stress would harm my unborn baby.
My best friend, who is pretty much “born again,” only not in the annoying, bible-thumping way, urged me to come to church with her, and to put my trust in God and ask for his help. So I tried. I really did. I prayed, although my praying was stunted because I constantly over-thought everything even AS I prayed. I would tell God about my day, and then say, “But I guess you already knew all that…” and then chide myself for presuming to guess what God may or may not know. (Weird, I know, but I’m Obsessive-Compulsive, so what do you expect?) I found it hard to concentrate, and my mind would wander so I actually started keeping a prayer journal. I also did go to church with my best friend. My husband went once or twice, more to support me than out of any feelings of faith.
And the funny thing is…I actually did start to feel a measure of peace.
Fast-forward to after my daughter’s birth. Like most new mothers probably, I was overwhelmed with emotions, chiefly deep love and deep, deep fear. Becoming a mom changed me in many ways, some expected, some not… One key difference is that I became infinitely more sensitive to media reports of violence against children. Especially violence perpetrated by people the children are supposed to be able trust. Like their parents. The number of family annihilators, mothers murdering their infants, and children abused in horrific ways is staggering. And it was weighing very heavily on my soul.
The point is, at that important juncture of my life, when I should have been the most thankful to God, when I should have looked to God the most for guidance and peace, I could not– can not– reconcile myself with the idea that a “loving god” would allow such horrors to happen to innocent children. All the “God’s plan, mysterious ways, devil’s influence, sins of humans” platitudes in the world are not enough to make me alright with this.
It has been told to me more than once by people of faith that people in general tend to blame God when something bad happens, but often don’t give Him credit when things go their way. My question is this; conversely, then, why is it okay to give Him credit for the good, but not look to Him for a damn good reason for the bad (especially something as bad a the murder of a child?)
I know it may sound like I am preaching here, but really I am just trying to sort out my thoughts, and please forgive me if this blog entry is very stream-of-consciousness or seems to ramble.
These are the things I think about when I lay awake in bed at night.
I would love to believe we are not alone in the universe, and when I try to pray at night I can almost feel like I might be talking to someone… But when I step away from that isolated moment, I feel the sterile and empirical “alone-ness” of the human condition– that all life on this planet is the result of a coincidental series of optimal conditions. That when we die, we cease to exist. That there is no judgment for the wicked people who would harm their own babies, aside from that which we mete out here on earth (our “justice” could never be enough for these people, and some escape the law entirely.) That no amount of praying can protect my child.
I keep telling myself– hoping to myself– that by the time my death approaches, hopefully after a long life filled with love, that I will have found the answers. That I won’t be afraid anymore. Now, as any good mother would, I care more for my child’s health, life, and happiness than my own anyway. So I will continue to seek the answers, however passively, and hope that one day I will be at peace with whatever those answers are.
Maybe there is a God, but He is unlike anything written in the Quran, the Bible, or ancient mythologies. Maybe he is an observer. Maybe He is Love, or maybe He is completely ambivalent. Maybe He is infinitely more complex and inscrutable than we could ever conceive with our piddly human minds.
The only thing I can know for sure is that I have to do the best I can with this life, and the best way I know to combat the fear I feel is to fight it with love. I’ll make sure those dearest to me know how much I love them.
*This is an intensely personal entry for me. In some way I can’t define, I am uncomfortable with it, and even now hesitate to click the “publish” button. Maybe for that reason more than any other, I have to post this entry.
We are living in a world I almost don’t recognize. Or maybe I just wish I didn’t recognize it. We live in a world where parents can murder their own children and then lie about it while a whole country looks on. We live in a world where a man can murder his pregnant wife, and where kids go to school and shoot up the place, with reasonable expectations, or even plans, of dying. A place where people do drugs they know could lead them to acts of cannibalism and violence and kids feed firecrackers to dogs.
And if everybody whines enough- about their jobs, their parents, society- there’s even a chance of getting away with these horrible crimes. Or being paid money.
All of us “normal” people are clamoring for an explanation, an end to the violence. So, after quite a few conversations in this vein, I have decided to blog my ideas on the topic. Now let me start with a disclaimer:
The following is my opinion and is based on all my education, experience, discussions, and observations. While I do have a BS in Psychology and Sociology, I am by no means an expert. Nor is my opinion rooted in theology. I’m not going to tell you everything would be “fixed” if we put God back into the schools. The problem facing America (and many other industrialized nations) is complex, therefore the answer will also be complex. For each act of violence there may often be “mitigating” circumstances. Sociological causes (basically, how society influences the behavior of individuals) and psychological causes have been suggested.
I was abused as a child so I … [blah blah blah]
or It’s because we are so poor that I had to [blah blah blah]
I’m not even going to say these things aren’t sometimes factors. However, I think there is way more flagrant violence than can be accounted for legitimately with these excuses.
And I can’t tell you how it burns me up, every time some school kid goes on a rampage and then it comes out “he listened to heavy metal,” or “he played violent video games.”
So let me tell you what I think a BIG part of the problem is…
Lack of accountability. Yup. That’s it. Every time a parent sues someone over some little transgression, they are teaching their children that if you don’t get your way, you can basically bully someone into doing what you want. Really, what are frivolous lawsuits but attempts to legally bully someone?
And any time a kid shoots at someone or kills his parents or a sibling, there’s a whole league of people waiting hand the kid his excuses on a silver platter. I feel like this kid who took a shotgun to Perry Hall High is a perfect example. He has seen on television how he can walk into a school and shoot it up, make whatever inane point by doing so, and then escape facing any consequences by killing himself or having the cops kill him. I’m not saying TV is at fault. I’m saying he has learned that he can “make a statement” dramatically because others have done it before him and there have been no real consequences. After all, what consequences can you expect if you’re dead? But the whole point is that people have been led to believe that they are entitled somehow. I am all for equality and compassion and tolerance of others, but the country has gone so far down the Politically Correct road, that now everybody feels like they are owed something, and every time someone wins a lawsuit over some dumb shit, it reinforces the idea of non-culpability and entitlement.
Every time a burglar gets bit by his victim’s dog or cuts himself on his victim’s kitchen knife and then wins a lawsuit about it, our own legal system is enforcing the idea that you can not only escape responsibility for your actions, but actually profit from them.
Casey Anthony is another example (barf.) This bitch led a whole nation on an emotional hunt for a child she already KNEW was dead. At this point, let’s even assume she didn’t intentionally kill the baby. She willfully covered it up and lied repeatedly about it. And really, she’s basically gotten away with it, with a slap on the wrist, a butt-load of attention (which I’m sure she loved in all her sophomoric twisted-ness), and probably an even bigger butt-load of offers for made-for-tv movies and interviews and whatever. It’s sick.
How about the newest thing, bath salts? After several documented cases of cannibal-like behavior resulting from the use of bath salts, this asshole is deemed “not competent” to stand trial for being found in his bedroom with a dead pygmy goat. A pygmy goat he stole, allegedly raped, and then butchered. Well, by all means, let’s cart him off to a mental facility for 6 months, let him out, and then when he does the same thing to a human victim, maybe THEN he’ll be competent to stand trial.
My bad. I thought if you willingly ingested mind-altering substances, you were held responsible for any illegal actions you might commit while on said substances…
So, basically, he was crazy before he ever took the drugs? Oh, well than that’s different. Next time, just don’t let him out without his leash and everything will be fine.
And please can we just stop with the over-simplistic and ignorant answers to the problem? It’s not Marilyn Manson or violent video games and movies. I am a 31 year old mother and a wife and I have listened to metal, watched horror movies with a passion, and played video games since…forever. I’d not stomp a spider, let alone kill a person in cold blood. By the time a child gets to the appropriate age for such games and films, he/she should be old enough to know right from wrong and real from imaginary…and if the kid is still young and still learning these delicate worldly ideas, then maybe the parents should be held responsible for allowing said child access to media that is too mature (violent) for them in the first place.
It’s not lack of God in the schools. Thanks; I’m not religious, yet my code of ethics and my level of tolerance is undoubtedly stronger than many so-called religious people. God hates fags? Really? Did he tell you that himself? Didn’t he also say “judge not…”? Last time I checked, God doesn’t preach hate.
(And here’s a real mind-fuck… How many church “people” have you heard of who disparage the violence and sexuality in today’s music and TV? Okay, now, how many church officials have you heard of who have been caught molesting children? My point here is not necessarily to disparage religion, but to point out that there are many good people who are not religious, and many religious people who are not necessarily good. Also, as indicative of the above passage, a lot of people hide behind religion as a way to justify hate.)
It’s not our DNA or our “killer” instinct… And even if it was, the whole idea behind being human is that we have higher thought processes, and here’s a novel idea– the ability to exert self-control and make conscious decisions.
I’m not saying my theory holds the key to the ultimate solution. The things that drive people to violence are varied and often complex. Violence could never be completely eradicated. But we can start by adopting a lower tolerance to it. This starts at home, and it’s up to the legal system to enforce the idea of consequences and accountability out in the “real world.” Let’s not forget that the rules appear to be different for folks with fame/and or money. Kids see their pop culture icons getting away with all sorts of crap. The little girls who used to be in the Mickey Mouse club are crashing into people with their cars while they’re drunk and yet some people are worried about a video games corrupting kids?
Get your head on straight, people.
And this may sound counterproductive in combating violence in society…but have you ever met teen that was so obnoxious you couldn’t help but think maybe their parents should have smacked them around more during their formative years? I know I have.
For instance, if I ever saw MY kid run into a pregnant lady and then give her lip when she said something about it, I’d cuff ’em right in the ear (this happened to me at the public pool when I was pregnant.) The other day I saw a lady (and I use the term loosely) allowing her dog to shit in a common public area. When I asked her if she planned to pick it up (she had no bag or anything with her) she gave me a raft of shit (no pun intended.) How hard is it to understand that I don’t need my small child trampling through your dog’s mess? Is it untoward for me to request she pick up after the nasty little beast? This woman, this huge she-beast who lives with her adult daughter on HUD assistance had the nerve to tell me I needed to get a job! All because I called her out on something she knew was wrong in the first place.
Apparently, as there are no consequences for being an asshole (you’d get sued for knocking the teeth out of someone being disrespectful to you now,) people feel free to throw courtesy right out the window.
Seriously, ignorance aside (even though it drives me absolutely batshit,) I fear for my child in this world. It makes me want to move my family to some isolated mountain in Montana or something.
Anyway, sorry if I sound preachy. This stuff really irks the piss out of me, and I pretty much feel helpless to do anything to change the majority of it. I can teach my kids solid values and responsibility, but there’s no way for me to force the rest of the world to act like civilized human beings. I just have to arm my kid with knowledge and then hope for the best. And that scares the crap out of me.
- ANOTHER site spreading BS about violent games… When will it end? (erosionoffreedom.wordpress.com)
- Shooting Reported In Perry Hall High School’s Cafeteria (baltimore.cbslocal.com)