Murdered Children/ Incoherent Rant

I don’t know if this is Gaza or Syria or whose doing it is or who they are.. but here are murdered children. Look at this picture. What are we? This is worse than primate behavior. Who does that? Who fucking murders babies? What does that even prove, man? Come on. Fuck. Even video games don’t allow you to injure civilians, leave alone toddlers. I just feel so ashamed of being human right now. I know we do a lot of good too. But it’s just damage control. We are all that’s wrong with this world.


Murdered Children

Injured Children

Murdered kids

Requiescat in pace, my darlings. I’m sorry we failed you so miserably. I know it doesn’t mean a thing. But I don’t know what else to say.

I hope it didn’t hurt. There’s no use saying cliched things like I hope you are in a better place, though wherever it is, even oblivion, it would be kinder than what our world did to you.

We’re not supposed to ask forgiveness from children for letting them die. We’re supposed to protect them.

Protect those weaker than you. Isn’t that what civilization is about? What does bombing or shooting a child prove?

What does murdering someone who can’t fight back fucking prove, man?

Fucking cowards.

Whoever did this.. indefensible act.. death’s too good for them.

They deserve to be damned.

Advertisements

Molten

I cannot hold you in my hands anymore
Flowing out of my veins, like lava in flames
Shining like an intense ocean of red and gold
if I choose to burn, is it not only I who is to blame?

Though sometimes I still dream of that very first time
That my ice-cold soul felt the burn of your skin
Around your fingers, you wrapped my reeling mind
Leaving my edges on steam, and my core, molten.

And you should know I’ve been melting ever since
First in cracks that trickled, then in streams that screamed
And I wonder if you ever truly were the lost prince
Or simply a lord from some nightmarish tale I once dreamed.

My love, how can I follow you any further into this night?
When I know not the way through the depths of your mind
I set out following the treacherous moon and its light
Only to leave myself somewhere too far behind.

And now the embers falling from my skin
from all the places we have touched
are all I have to light my way of sin
Not enough, but always too much

I like to believe I’ll catch up with you sometime
Before going up in flames, or melting out of sight
And if being too weak to help you was my only crime
Then I hope at least my pyre provides you with light.

 

Waking Wendy – I

The storm colored sky stretched out into eternity, as two lone figures stood beneath it, the only sound above the waves of the distant ocean being that of the wind whipping the edges of their long coats against the rustling uncut grass.

“When will things change?” asked the girl in gray.

The boy shook his head, letting multicolored drops of rain fall about them, “When you wake up.”

Her wide eyed gaze sought out the distant horizon, full of only the unknown. “Are you sure?”, she asked, biting her lip.

“Yes”, he smiled, before leaning closer, “Wake up, Wendy..”

~~~

The building wasn’t that tall, but four floors is still high enough to kill. Especially when you add in the 2 feet of the railing and the ledge, said the slurring voice in her head, and she burst into a fit of giggles, her waif like form shaking in mirth on the railing on which she was precariously perched. The moon looked on disapprovingly, but she drank to his health until even he forgave her, smiling reluctantly at her antics. After all, there is no dark side in the moon, really. And she gave him something to watch.

Alas, the watchmen have seen everything. And the moon is the oldest of them all. He soon tired of her childish games. It was time for something harder. And with magical dawns and falling stars and lighted paths, he led her astray into the wild.

“What do you want from me?”, she cried out suddenly, tired of the changing ground beneath her feet.

“I need you to wake up”, shouted back the moon. “Can’t you see what’s happening around you??”

But she only cried out louder, and shut her eyes tighter. She knew what the Moon wanted to show her, and she did not wish to see.

“Wake up, Wendy”, he whispered, almost lovingly, before withdrawing, once more, into silence.

~~~

He then spent years cleverly shaping her path, leading her slowly towards the palace of a dragon. For, even though there is no dark side in the moon, really; Matter of fact, it’s all dark.

Luckily for her, it wasn’t a particularly old dragon, for those are as weary as they are wise. Of course, this particular one was a little weary and wise himself, but he could not help it; all dragons must be.

“Why have you come here?”, asked the Dragon in his menacing voice, towering over the girl who had long shed her gray robes for black. “I’ve always wanted to meet a Dragon” she said, reverentially. “But, how did you know where to find me?”, asked the Dragon, surprised. “I heard your voice across the ocean a hundred years ago”, said the girl, “and I’ve been looking for you ever since”. The dragon studied her incredulously before swooping down and pulling her on to himself. In ecstacy, she watched the sky change colors and the clouds float on besides them, as they flew over towns and castles, showing her the World she had almost stopped believing in. The moon looked on in jealousy, but the girl had eyes only for the dragon.

But the sky had touched her with its ink, long before she had had any choice in the matter. And now, she was forever haunted by the dark. “Why won’t this stop?”, she cried into the dragon’s chest, his wing locked protectively around her.

“You know what you have to do”, he whispered soothingly, wiping the tears falling from her eyes.

“Wake up, Wendy..”

~~

But she was finally happy, and it didn’t seem fair to have to wake up just when things were getting better. She adorned the dragon’s head with flowers, and forbade him from ever speaking of it again. Of course Dragons don’t listen, but she was clever enough to remember that whether good or evil, they are creatures of their word. So she offered an exchange. That was how he got the third part of her fragmented heart. And as they flew higher and higher into the sun, she began to burn. Until the dragon noticed the edges of her hair were on fire, that is.

He immediately plummeted to the ground, crashing into a group of trees in his hurry to get her down to Earth safely. She tumbled off his back into the grass beneath, laughing. “That was amazing!” She raised her arms up, towards the Dragon. “Let’s do that again.” But the Dragon was saddened by her burning cloak, even when he saw glimpses of the red dress she had on underneath her burnt and tattered armor.

They’re only clothes, love, she wanted to say.

But night was falling, and before they knew it, winter was here. The Dragon was often gone for hours hunting, or flying, or doing whatever it is that dragons do. She did not know. All she knew was that when he was gone, she was cold. And she hated bringing it up, because she knew it made him think of the sun. And when he got like that, she didn’t know what he was after. So, she left him alone, and during one particularly frosty spell, she slowly froze into a picturesque statue.

The Dragon didn’t return for months, so he never even found out. In fact, it was quite undragonlike of him to do so in the first place, but he needed the thrill of the hunt a little more than he may ever needed her. It was a simple calculation really.

At least that’s what the village children say. But what do they knew? They’re idiots. Especially the young boys who liked to make faces at her frozen statue as she stood next to a shrine, painfully aware of every passing lifetime. He’ll come back, she whispered to herself fervently, her thoughts icy cold inside her mind.

But he didn’t.. At least not in time. And one night, a few of the boys hopped over the little fence that surrounded her in order to get a better look at her. She managed to slip away from them, only to fall to the ground and shatter into a million pieces. The boys scattered back to their homes, even as she slowly melted in the rays of the rising sun.

The Sun, she remembered fondly, and then closed her eyes, sliding down into a passing river that was making its way towards the sea. The Sea where the Dragon went hunting… She sat up at once, all the pieces of her focusing themselves into who she needed to be.

“Why don’t you look for a wizard, dear? You look like you need one.” called out an old lady from a passing boat.

The girl began to laugh again, and her tattered robes fell off her shoulders, only to reveal a beautiful red gown that now hung loosely from her fragile form. “No ordinary wizard can help me, old mother”, she cried, even as the river tried to soothe her “Can’t you see? I’ve been cursed by a Dragon.” The old woman turned and  hastened the boat away. For everyone knows how ancient the magic of a dragon is. And no one wanted to involve themselves in this tale.

The Dragon found her floundering about in the Sea, surprised to see her oddly rearranged form swimming in the cold winter sea. She raised up her trembling arms, and the dragon lifted her into the air, gently gathering her broken pieces that fell back into the reluctant river. “He’s not going to hurt me, River” she said, so tired that she had begun to slur, “Well, not much. But I’m not that weak!” The Dragon looked at her flowing gown and growled softly at the scent of the village boys about her.

“Why didn’t you come back?”, she finally asked, her voice a trembling whisper. “I never left”, he replied, quietly. She didn’t believe him, but pieces of her began to, and after years and years of icy solitude, it was simply too much to take, and she burst into tears. “What do you want from me?”, she cried.

He growled at her again and transformed into a wizard before her very eyes. She took a wary step back even as he smiled at her, wolfishly.

“You know what you have to do, little girl”, said the Wizard-who-used-to-be-a-Dragon as he moved in closer towards her, somehow so much more menacing than he had ever been as a Dragon.

“What?”, she whispered, her breath warm against his cheek.

He kissed her for a moment, before pulling away and cursing out reluctantly, “Wake up, Wendy.”

The DMRC needs to STOP its illegal witch-hunt of teens and pre-teens and instead identify the perpetrators who have ILLEGALLY shared the information of individuals on pornographic websites

So, I’m not sure if you guys have heard about this, but footage from the Metro stations of the Indian capital, Delhi, has found its way on to porn websites. Mind you, I’m talking about teenagers, and pre-teens, filmed fooling around on empty platforms because our society is too fucked up to allow them to actually visit each others’ homes in order to even touch other, forget about intimacy!

Are you all mind-fucked yet, friends, Indian and countrymen? Well, it gets better. Now, instead of identifying the criminals who have committed the illegal act of uploading these videos, the DMRC actually has the audacity to try and identify the youngsters so that it can file FIRs against them!

What the actual FUCK? Those couples should be suing DMRC! What kind of a messed up society do we live in? Everybody’s a wannabe self-righteous jackass. Gyah! I can’t take it anymore! Flamethrowers are the only solution!!!

Though, in all seriousness, I repeat: Those couples should be suing DMRC! No self-respecting judge will allow this voyeuristic bullcrap to pass off as implementing decency. It’s only indecent because people were watching, the said people being perverted DMRC officials. Seriously, if someone wants to file a case against the DMRC, please, tell me, and I’ll get you in touch with a lawyer who can kick their privacy-violating ass all the way to hell.

The Rapist Scum of U.P., India

Find someone attractive? Just follow her home with your “friends”, barge in when she’s alone and rape her to your heart’s content. Doth the lady protest too much because you’re a ugly fucking asshole? Set her on fire and let her die.

Or are you more of an outdoors-man – oops – rapist? [You don’t get to call yourself men if you are no better than filthy, diseased cancerous cells plaguing the rest of our society.] Well, if the great weather and better escaping opportunities are your thing, then find a National-level athlete and “tease” her. If she protests? Why, run her over with your car, of course!

Or do you think all of this is too risky? Would you prefer assaulting someone who can’t fight back at all? What is all this protesting and fire and running people over? Well, in that case, be a sick, pathetic, vile little less-than-human pig, and rape an infant, the younger the better. Oh, the number of years your soul shall wander Hell. *laughs* Three thousand sons wouldn’t get you salvation, Asshole. What kind of God do you think would forgive such a thing? Just because you’re a messed up @#@&#@^ coward, doesn’t mean your God is a dirty pig too. Ha! In fact, I keep my faith in the fires of hell that are burning for you.

Moksha, it seems. Your skin should be slowly peeled off with hot iron knives, before your flayed body is dipped in tar and venom. May your screams resound endlessly, rapist-murderers. And may your death make you cry a million times before claiming you.

God, how I hate those who prey on children.

You disgust me.

I loathe you.

Justice for all? Words are wind..

So, today, one of my friends posted an article on my wall. It was called …And Justice for all. Some excerpts of the same are as follows:

Guilt is premised on an individual being conscious of his actions and of its possible repercussions when he commits the act. So the individual ‘knows’ that he doesn’t have any right to harm a fellow human, yet in a moment of weakness, does it. Would that moment/those moments define the entire personality of the individual?

Should taking someone’s life — reducing someone to a state of nothingness, after following constitutional due process — to further law’s ends, find a place in twenty-first century lawbook then?

Should there be a component of retribution at all? Who stands to benefit from this? In retaliation against one act of madness, perhaps a few moments, does anyone have authority to take someone’s life?

Can’t there be a better way of accommodating the person in society, the one labeled criminal by law?

Perhaps there can be. The perpetrator can be turned into an asset for the society. This can happen only when the law attributes criminality not to the individual as such, but to a criminal component in him. It would follow that once ‘that component’ is removed, the individual can be of benefit to the society.

Reaction:

Hmm… I don’t think my heart is big enough. But, this is why I would prefer to stay separate from the system. I think this article makes a lot of sound, valid points… but when someone crosses a line with me, they are as good as dead. To me. And, we’re talking silly lines here. If someone were to hurt or kill someone I cared about, the only reason I would pray that the Courts let them go is so that I can kill them myself.

It’s like Sanzo says, when you first kill someone, you undertake the probability of being killed yourself.

Also, this article speaks of crimes done in moments of weakness. For which, most legal systems have adequate defenses in the form of grave and sudden provocation, and the like.

Further, there’s nothing forgivable about stalking a 4 year old child, then raping and murdering her. In that case, the victim is chosen because the perpetrators know that she can’t fight back. It is our duty to her, as well as to all surviving innocents everywhere, that people who commit such heinous crimes are not just punished for it, but utterly removed from society [whether through Death, or exile to space, or as human experiments (though that probably won’t end well) is all a matter of debate] 

Point being, it isn’t just about the criminal or the victim’s family. It’s about the victim, and all other potential ones. And the fact that if you can’t protect a child’s life, you better be prepared to avenge it, otherwise what use is our existence? It means less than nothing.

The Indian Ban on Porn: Playing the Devil’s Advocate

Note: The govt./executive is the Devil for the purposes of this post.

Guys, we belong to a culture where rape is alright because, for most men in this country, the consent of a woman is an alien idea. Even marriage is like, “beta, be an ass, if you please. We’ll find you a girl to fuck. Come let us go their house and drink the tea she has made. That way you can check out how “sweet” her cooking is, as well as her body.” 
So, today, these men waiting for mommy and daddy to find them a fuck-girl aka wife, cannot comprehend the sexual autonomy women seem to be painstakingly working towards. 
Why?
> Because they know that, with the kind of jackasses they have become, no girl in their right mind would want to sleep with them. And this is the pathetic fear that makes them desperate to rape. They see women on the street, and if she’s with a guy, the automatic insecure, deprived notion that pops into their head is, “If she can sleep with him, why not me?”

Why is this relevant to this discussion? 
> I have a blog. Said blog has this cool feature relating to stats, and this includes a list of the search terms that people have used to reach my blog. Because I write about all these things, there’s a lot of “rape” and “sexual assault” tags. The kind of stuff I read on that list, i.e. the kind of stuff people are searching for, sometimes just makes me want to be sick.
>>>
Don’t get me wrong. I am totally pro-porn. But I’m not pro getting off on the pain of real victims.

What does this have to do with anything?
>> I’m not sure if, as a nation, we can differentiate between reality and fiction. And, in countries that don’t have such a problem, having a fantasy about raping your neighbor after seeing a porn clip about it stays just that: a fantasy. But, in incredible India, it’s just about waiting until said neighbor has a blackout, just like in the porn video.

What am I trying to say?
> As a nation, we don’t deserve porn. But, then again, we probably don’t even deserve to govern ourselves. Which we have time and again proved, historically, and at every turning point, instead of moving towards a society that respects its members, we have chosen to go the other way. Instead of demanding our rights, we have simply watched them go floating by to their ICU rooms, partially because there were too many of us dying for food, and partially because the handful of educated Indians wanted to do nothing but get out.

Conclusion
The Indian government is supremely ineffective. Nevertheless, as Nietzsche would agree, let them fuck up. Let them fuck up, and let us fight them, and then let them do worse things, terrible things. And let us keep fighting back.
Why?
>Because that is the only way society improves, and our’s is in desperate need of improvement. And this dialogue must be made part of the battle (i.e. on the link between porn and rape, because only such a discussion in the open media will get the point out and across that these guys are usually actors, and there’s a LOT of fucking consent involved.)

~~~

Bottomline: The freedom of our people is of supreme importance, but nothing is more important than protecting our children. And we are failing. We have failed. Let them ban what they like. We’ll find our own ways. And, maybe, maybe the guy stalking some minor girl because she’s pretty (-_-) will next time be forced to pay attention to something else when he goes online, when the search results of “rape stories” and what not show not imitable ideas of sexual violence, but simply an account of how every rapist was beaten up by his society, and the jail term he has served.

PoA: Obviously let it be known that this is wrong, and it shouldn’t be done. But, keeping in mind that the class that has just stopped struggling to survive does not have the cultural license in this nation to form meaningful relationships (or any relationships, for that matter) with the opposite gender, and has literally turned to porn, and subsequently rape, as entertainment.

Because that’s the one thing Indian society has in common with violent, exploitative pornographic content: A serious lack of consequence.