People Over 30 Should be Dead

Discussion in 'Politics' started by Magna, May 29, 2003.

  1. yes, i kno what you mean but i never understood it. where is the respect in getting your sorry a$$ kicked?? :confused: never made sense to me. the winner is clearly the one that deserves the respect not the loser. is it the loser trader that should get respect .. no. way. loser deserve nothing least of all respect. WIN! WIN! at all costs! that's what my dad always beat into me. WIN! WIN! DONT BE A LOSER! my name would be "Sue" if he had his way (i'm sure) thanks dad :-/
     
    #11     May 30, 2003
  2. The most recent I've heard is Diana Krall, but I suspect it's ben done before.
     
    #12     May 30, 2003
  3. moffitt

    moffitt

    I grew up on the streets of Brooklyn N.Y.. Now you can say what you want. But we learned a few things that are missing in the world today. For the most part. In my mothers house you learned Courtesy to elders, ladies and others. Honesty ya better fess up
    the truth to mom. Ethics and integrity in all your dealings. Respect
    of elders, teachers etc..

    So tell me where did the world take the huge u turn?? That presidents can lie and act like dogs and that's ok. Politicians can get elected even if they are felons. Lawyers and accountants
    figure how to bury us with swindles and cheating. There is no honesty with big corporations or their presidents or boards of directors.

    I'd rather be back in the schoolyard fighting!!!!


    :mad:
     
    #13     May 30, 2003
  4. I know it never made sense to you. I mean it is very hard to understand.

    Let's see. We have a senior in high school that, because of genetics, is big....let's say 230 pounds. Strong as an ox. And happens to have no brain, so he capitalizes on what he does have, which is brawn. And to capitalize on this, he picks on the "nerds".

    Now we also have a "nerd" who the big guy doesn't like. Maybe because the "nerd" refused to help the big guy cheat on a test, do his homework for him...something like that.

    So it escalates into a fight. Now the nerd is just some 130 pound kid. Stands no chance.

    But he can't take the constant harassment. So instead of hiding from the big guy, he faces him down, and gets his ass kicked. Who looks better to everyone else afterwards? And why? And is there much of a chance that these two guys are going to fight again?

    Who is the real "winner"?

    Very hard to figure out Longshot. I can see where this is a bit complex for you.

    Also, why would someone like you quote someone like Bob Dylan and do it in giant letters? (Knocking on Heaven's Door). Who could be more different than someone who describes himself to be the way you do, and Dylan?

    RS

    PS: I never "lost" a fight either. Nor did I "win" any if that means knocking out your opponent like in a prizefight. Every fight I was ever in had at least two guys hurt. Tired, bruised and bloody, but able to walk away. Nothing to be proud of or ashamed of. Fights were just an element of life. One of the bad ones. Stupid shit that served no purpose. Not ever. Did I ever see anyone not stop beating on someone after they were finished? Yeah, I did, and it was sickening.

    Tell me. What is worth fighting about???? And what exactly is it that makes you proud to be so tough???
     
    #14     May 31, 2003
  5. Longshot, email me where you live. We'll beat the shit out of one another and have a grand old time. I don't care if you'll kick my ass. Actually, that's a lie. I Hope you give me an absolute thrashing.

    Like the wise man rhetorically asked, "Who wants to die without any scars?"
     
    #15     May 31, 2003
  6. When I was in my late teens in the Army, at my first duty station fresh out of training, I had the misfortune to be assigned to a 4-man room in the barracks where the occupants were two black guys with major chips on their shoulders and a white guy who wanted to be black.

    The black guys came in two sizes: one was 5' 8, 160 - average build. The other was 6' 2 and 220 - a freakin' monster compared to me. At the time I was 6' even and a slim 150 soaking wet.

    Well, I'm half-Asian and half-white. I walked into the room on my first day, duffel bag over my shoulder, and before I could even say a word in greeting to my new roommates the biggest black guy said to his smaller black buddy, "Aw man, we got a fuckin' Jap in our room."

    Now, I was raised to be respectful of other people and races, and had friends of different races my entire life. I had also learned some judo and thus been taught to try and avoid conflict. However, as I said I was in my late teens, full of piss and vinegar, and being called a racial epithet definitely got under my skin. I also had had some fights in basic and advanced training due to racial reasons, fights I had never instigated. (And always with black guys. I always thought it ironic that these black guys would complain about whitey being racist at them and then instigate shit with other minorities - but that's another issue).

    Basically my temper got the best of me. I looked the big black guy square in the eye and said, "Hey, you don't even know me and you're calling me a Jap? You don't hear me calling you a fuckin' nigger now do you?"

    Well, it was all downhill from there. For the next few months I was constantly getting in fights with these two asshole black guys, fights in which they were always the instigators. The smaller one would never fight me one-on-one cause he was a chicken-shit motherfucker. I started thinking of them as Master/Blaster, from Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome, the smaller guy being the brains and the bigger guy the oafish muscle. The white guy like I said was a black wannabe and although he didn't get involved in the fighting he sure as hell didn't help me in the slightest.

    Needless to say I was getting my ass kicked. I never reported things because I didn't want to get the reputation of being a crybaby narc. My superiors knew something was up because half the time I was looking like I'd been through a meat-grinder, but I never told 'em anything.

    Master finally screwed up one night when he made the mistake of coming home without Blaster by his side. Naturally he started some shit, and I took the opportunity to beat the shit out of him but good. I really gave it to him. Unfortunately we made so much noise that the duty sergeant heard the ruckus and reported us to the First Sergeant. Top called us into his office in the morning and demanded an explaination. I said only that we'd had a misunderstanding, which Master echoed. We were given some light punishment and that was all. But Master had learned his lesson. He stopped messing with me physically.

    Blaster was another story. Although I didn't have to worry about a tag-team anymore, he was freakin' huge and consistently was able to overpower me.

    Then one night Blaster intimidated a guy at another company so bad that the guy literally jumped out of a 4th-story window to get away from him and broke his back. I didn't know the guy, but it pissed me off further.

    I realized that I had to stop trying to avoid conflict with him because conflict was inevitable. I had to take the offensive. So I started instigating shit with HIM. Instead of waiting for him to come back to the room late at night for the inevitable confrontation, I'd go out looking for his sorry ass. I'd track him down at one of his buddy's rooms, go in there, and punch him and start a brawl. He'd come back into the room after a night on the town, and instead of trying to pretend to sleep and pray that he'd leave me the hell alone, I'd be waiting to greet him with a punch when he walked in the door. Of course I was getting my ass kicked in the end, but it started to work. My reputation in the platoon up to that point was the quiet guy who went about his job and didn't cause any waves. Now I was getting a reputation in the platoon as the quiet guy who went about his job but also the crazy guy who went around fucking with Blaster, who was THE bad-ass in our entire company.

    Things finally came to a head on New Year's Eve. This time the fight got out of the room and into the main barracks hall. I managed to get Blaster in a really, really good choke hold from behind and he was losing energy. I actually thought I was going to win a fight with him! He did the smart thing and ran backwards into a wall several times. Of course I was choke-holding him from behind so I took the full force of the blows and eventually let go and collapsed on the ground. Blaster was so exhausted he couldn't do anything else except stagger into our room. Well, as it turned out, the duty sergeant saw the tail end of the fight and again reported it to the First Sergeant.

    Top finally asked around and put two and two together. Blaster was known as a bullying, lazy fuck-up while I was the quiet, squared-away troop who did his job. Blaster got a reprimand, I wasn't punished at all.

    The moral of the story? Sometimes you have to lose a lot of fights before winning the war.
     
    #16     May 31, 2003
  7. Excellent post.
     
    #17     Jun 1, 2003