International Ultra-violence

Carey told me recently about the experiences of a co-worker of hers. Apparently, this woman is fairly well-traveled and... rrr, I can't remember which country this incident occurred (somewhere in Eastern Europe, I think... Russia maybe?)... but she was making her way through a certain ill-lit tunnel at night. As she neared the end of it, a group of gypsie hoodlums sprang out of nowhere and began to attack her with sharp blows and hot pins. It all happened so fast that she was quickly overwhelmed and the thieves managed to make off with her purse.

The interesting part, though: they were children, probably all under 10 years old.

So, of course, this prompted a discussion... what would you do? I think Carey mentioned that her friend suffered some minor injuries, nothing permanent... but still. These are children. How far would you go to defend yourself?

After considering the scenario for a minute, I told Carey, "I'm ashamed to admit it, but I think I know what I'd do. If I were getting swarmed by a gang of those little bastards, I think I would probably try to single out the smallest, weakest child of the bunch. I'd grab hold of him, without letting go for anything, and proceed to beat the holy living shit out of that kid. I'm not kidding, man. I'm talking broken teeth against brick walls, whatever it takes. He'd be My Little Hostage. 'See this? Give me back my wallet, you little brats.'"

(And people wonder why I have no interest in parenting.)

Needless to say, Carey was horrified. "But they're little kids!" Yeah, I know they're kids. But 1) kids or no kids, they're attacking you. And when you're being attacked, I happen to believe that you should do whatever you can to defend yourself. I might not be able to take on a dozen 9-year-olds, but I can sure as hell take on one. And 2) sad as it is, these little urchins are raised to operate that way. They're never taught anything other than scamming, stealing and mugging as a way to survive. It's awful. And maybe this is the Republican side of my persona coming out, but man, I wouldn't hesitate to make an example of those hosers. It's terrorism on a micro-scale! It really is! The message- "I don't care who you are or what your situation is... it's still terror and I won't stand for it."

Carey disagreed (and I'm kind of glad she disagrees. It's more or less why I love her). I think her position is something along the lines of 'these kids have had horrible lives. In the overall scheme of things, it's a purse. I'm rich, they're poor. They need it more than me anyhow.'

I can understand that, I just don't agree. Justice! Will no one stand for JUSTICE?!

Of course it's entirely possible that a 9-year-old gypsie kid could thrash me six ways to Sunday anyhow, so it may all be a moot point.

But if I'm ever in Eastern Europe... watch out, Gypsies! Jer the Bear is on your case!

Ki-yah!
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And speaking of international malfeasance, this CNN article discusses the most dastardly use of the comic medium I think I've ever heard: an instructional comic, published in Mexico, that outlines effective methods for illegal immigrants to cross into the United States without getting caught.

Rage.

posted by Jeremy Bear 9:50 AM

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Tuesday, January 04, 2005

It's The Future!

New Year's turned out to be quiet and lovely, as Carey's supervisors saw fit to let her knock off work early, allowing us a nice little New Year's Eve dinner at Utopia. A little champagne toast and Hello 2005.

2005. Cripes.

When I was a wee lad, I collected Transformers (and I still believe those things to be the single most brilliant toy idea for boys ever conceived). At the height of Transformer Mania, the manufacturers decided that the action figures, the weekday cartoons and the limitless barrage of other crap bearing the Transformers logo weren't quite enough... it was time for Transformers: The Movie.

Needless to say, I pestered my parents until they agreed to drop me off at the theater with my sister. The lights went down and I was truly in Nerd-Boy Heaven. One of the things I remember most about the movie was the opening scene: spaceships flying, people walking around in hi-tech body armor, cities that transformed into gigantic robots, machines with personalities. And the narrator spoke...

"It is the year 2005..."

That's right, I thought, that's exactly right. 2005. The Future. Flying cars and space travel are par for the course in 2005. I'd probably be married with children, working in some crazy techno-job for a company that manufactures portable nuclear reactors to power our jet packs and teleport devices. I will visit the moon. I will wear anti-grav boots. I will type my dinner order into a console in the kitchen and watch it pop out of the wall, piping hot, seconds later. Robots will dress me and brush my teeth every morning. Knowledge will come in pill form.

I will friggin' walk on air.

And while it's not everything I expected, I'm glad to be here. My car doesn't fly, but it's pretty fast. No anti-grav boots or insti-meals, but I do have a cell phone, an iPod and high-speed internet access that comes in pretty handy.

No kids, but I do have a wife that makes me happy to be alive.

It'll do.

By the way, since it's become a New Year's tradition, I woke up on January 1 and dashed off a sketch, first thing in the morning. It's Optimus Prime up there. Click to enlarge.

And have a great 2005.

posted by Jeremy Bear 3:16 PM

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