Monte by Monecristo AJ Fernandez and a Ginger-enfused Virgil Kaine Bourbon Old Fashioned
An Old Fashioned Jew smoking a Hoyo de Monterrey 1066 from the 1990s
Me trying to take a selfie of me podcasting without me looking at the camera
A voice is heard in Ramah, lamentation, and bitter weeping, Rachel is weeping for her children; she refuses to be comforted for her children, because they are not. (Jeremiah 31:15)
In episode 61, our intrepid interfaithED duo once again try to make sense of a senseless act of gun violence. Praying.
A Jew and A Gentile walk into a Bar . . . Mitzvah 
I listened to this carefully to hear your take on the situation. Please take this not as harsh criticism, but as an attempt to put another voice into the situation. You and the other people who sit on the sidelines and armchair quarterback what happened are as wrong as wrong can be. Take this from someone who lived in this situation.
There are three types involved in these situations – the “victim”, the “protagonist”, and the “audience”. The problem here is that the “victim” can’t understand why it happened, the audience is similarly stunned, only the “protagonist” really knows what happened and why, speaking as someone who twice found himself in the “protagonist” role I know of what I speak.
My entire pre-adult life I was bullied; from 3rd grade throughout high school. The bullying was relentless, even to the point that in 9th grade I was stabbed with a pencil. Teachers didn’t care, the administration gave me the “boys will be boys” and “you have to learn to put up (fight back) or shut up” speeches. The kids were jocks, they are almost always jocks (few nerds or English Lit kids bully) so they were allowed to get away with it because, well, they’re jocks, and they’re important to the student body’s morale. My clothes were singed with kids tossing cigarette butts at me, the bus driver ignored it, the principal suggested that I drop tech school so that I didn’t have to ride with them.
After years of abuse it finally caught up with me one day. I was just riding my bike when two of the kids knocked me off and stole the bike, only fear of what would happen if their parents found out made them return it, but I had had enough. I went home, found my father’s Bowie knife and headed out to settle things once and for all, one of the kids at a time. I knew where they hung out, the routes they took, and the best place to set an ambush, I was ready. My mother sent my older brother out to look for me, not because she knew what was going on, but because I was late for dinner, he found me before I found them. To this day he has no idea I had that knife, or what my plans were.
Years later it happened again, one of the kids bullying me on the bus shoved me down the bus step laughing as I hit the ground. I had had enough, I turned on him and pummeled him to the ground, beating him so hard that I was ready to beat him to death, I wasn’t going to stop. It was only a friend of mine who had the guts to pull me off, knowing I wouldn’t hit him. Who was punished for this? Me. The other kid wasn’t even brought into the office to talk about pushing me. I was the “protagonist” and he the “victim” so it was all about me.
No, neither of you, nor the rest of the “audience” has any clue, nor cares much, about looking at the real cause of the problems. Stop the guns, get mental help for the “protagonist”, feel sorry for the “victim”. Don’t question why. Don’t handle the problems when they started and the roles were reversed, just handle the fallout afterwards and punish the just. After all, boys will be boys, and jocks are important for morale. If you ask me, you can stop a good portion of this, not by eliminating guns, but by eliminating sports in schools and stick with teaching the Three R’s, sports just teaches kids that it is okay to beat up on other kids, on or off the field, and sets up the “audience” to cheer them on.
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