It gets past me, really, the thing about killing kids. I do not particularly like children as a class of people, and I didn’t like them much when I was a kid. Yet it never occurred to me that killing a kid was something that I, or anyone else, ought to do. Some guy in north Georgia just killed himself in prison after confessing to killing a seven year old girl. No reason, really. The little girl wasn’t loud or destructive, toting a thermonuclear device around, or constantly singing Justine Berber songs.
This guy just wakes up one day and decides to kill a child, and now, once he’s thought about it for a while, hangs himself.
I’ve been revisiting the West Memphis 3 case in the last couple of days and it astounded me that three little boys could be murdered and not one piece of condemning evidence could be found, or at least that’s the way it’s portrayed on television. Three very young men were convicted, one sentenced to die for the crimes, but they were all released last year because so many holes appeared in the case.
Justice, in this case, really hasn’t been done because no one knows who killed three little boys. It’s good if the three were innocent and they were set free, that is important, but we still have three dead little boys who were killed in 1993. There has been three movies, several accusations, a lot of talk, but not one person who the evidence declares guilty. One of the relatives of the children, a man by the name of Mark Byers, shuffled into the spotlight and hillbillied his way into all three moves, was named a suspect by most everyone who knew him, but in the end, there wasn’t any evidence he did it either. Byers may very well have killed the kids, but mostly he was just nuts and liked being on camera.
So who killed those three kids?
Casey Anthony walked after a jury declared her not guilty. That outranged a nation but the bottom line is there wasn’t a shred of evidence against the woman except she’s a pathological liar, and she didn’t report her daughter missing for a month. So help me dog, I would have put her away just for not reporting her kid missing but that’s just me. And a few million of my closest friends.
The whole sex with kids gets right by me too. I can remember a time in my life a girl fifteen years old was fair game. Of course, I was in High School at the time, and most of the girls I knew of dating age were far younger than eighteen. When I turned eighteen and became legally an adult the rules changed because dating young girls meant I could be arrested. By twenty-one, anyone who wasn’t old enough to drive was a kid. By the time I was twenty-five anyone too young to vote was jail bait. When I hit thirty it seemed like woman in their early twenties were just advanced High School girls. Once I got past fifty I wouldn’t give anyone female a second glance unless they’re old enough to have daughters in college, or older.
I do understand there are female humans out there under the legal age of consent who are having sex with underage partners and I think they’re playing with fire, but hey, I got burned at that time in my life, and that’s just part of trying to grow up. But hey! If you’re old enough to vote you’re old enough to stay the hell off the school yard.
It seems like a lot of the people who kill kids also rape them and when you mix the two crimes together that’s a synergy that is evil to the point you can damn near bottle it. Jon Benet Ramsey’s parents paraded her around dressed up like a twenty dollar hooker and much to everyone’s surprised the little girl was found assaulted and murdered. I think once someone stops looking at kids as kids then very bad, very bad, very bad, things begin to take place in the human mind. Dressing them the part invites trouble of a species that ought to be extinct. My heart goes out to those parents, especially since they were accused of killing their daughter and it turned out not to be true, but dressing a four year old up like a street walker is just plain damn wrong.
I don’t get that either, by the way, beauty contests for little girls.
Kids aren’t something I want, or have ever wanted. I don’t particularly like anyone who isn’t old enough to string together a few cogent thoughts without whiplashing to another totally unrelated subject without warning. I don’t like people who pull dogs’ tails. I could give a damn less about any honor student at your school. I don’t like the idea that I can’t go out to eat without some two year old screaming two tables away from me. Some five year old with a Ritalin IV drip damn near clipped me with a shopping cart one day and nearly took my knee out. Most of the problems people have in life that are money related are child related, and we have all been down that road before, have we not?
But for some reason, when I read about someone that has killed a kid I have to wonder what was wrong, so terribly and incurably wrong with that person? I have to wonder why they would do that to a kid, when even Bert, wizened and white faced and grumpy, would allow the Puppy Lucas to climb all over him over two years ago. As a species, are dogs truly that much tolerant than we, or is it they are just less crazy?
While I was watching the show last night about the three little boys who were murdered so many years ago, it still broke my heart into a million pieces.