A north american wildflower which is frequently purple & white or yellow & red; it has 5 petal-shaped petals and 5 trumpet-shaped petals, and a head which nods. It likes wooded areas (who wouldn't?). The lowly and lovely columbine is the state flower of Colorado.

When i was little, i liked to take apart the pieces of the blossom to look at how they fit together so perfectly; and though i knew i couldn't reassemble it, it was a disappointment every time.

It's been happening in the inner cities for over 20 years on a daily basis. Kids killing kids. It certainly doesn't make the fucking front page of countless magazines and newspapers...

Just not white kids killing other white kids. Middle-class violence, now that's something really tragic. I'm so glad it got such extensive coverage.

I honestly don't mean to make light of this occurrence or to imply that it wasn't appalling. But the media circus that followed spoke volumes about class biases still very alive in American "culture".

In reference to what has been said by everyone and specifically what was said by Malcolm Frink:

There are simple answers to what at times can seem to be very complicated questions. Even though we have had for many years an increasing awareness of violence in this country, every new year that rolls in there seems to be an update on the surprise and astonishment towards it. Is it because it always existed but these days with things like CNN, it’s 24/7 in your face? Is it because movie ratings (PG-13) are loser and TV ratings are a bulging moneymaker fueled by shock-worth material? Is it the video games? Could it be heavy metal? Grunge? Goth? Manson? Pokemon told me to do it? Maybe a girl read in Cosmopolitan how guys cheat and from there stemmed a deep-rooted hatred towards the opposite sex, building in despise until one day blows up and decides to take all the pretty boys with her on her road trip to hell?

I have the true answer to this problem and it is as simple as can be. The complication rests within the holder of the question. The true reason we see more and more violence within younger and younger, is diversity.

Think about it Fifty years ago things must have been pretty simple. Geeks had a protractor, jocks had a cup, cheerleaders had pom-poms and band practice was full of losers. Fifty years ago, youth openly fought to belong. Just like men have always attempted to bond amongst each other, children search out their own kind in a ritual as old as the sand box they pooped in.

Back then it must have been pretty easy to belong. The world was a smaller place and filled with fewer things. Naïve teenagers would look up to the sky wide-eyed in wonder, fascinating over the possibility that having an uncle like the guy on “My favorite Martian”, might actually have some possibility of happening to them. No internet (sorry folks). No CNN. No widespread syndication in television. Radio was as laid back as the old yellers that fell asleep while listening to oldies but goodies.

Back then when you moved into the neighborhood you’d be received by the welcome wagon. At a new school you could always find a “click” to click with. An activity to participate in. A hobby to pass the time and endure the wait until summer was over. Moms used to stay home. Dads used to have shorter shifts. (No, I’m not talking about penis size) What does it all mean? Kids had a sense of belonging. They either belonged to family, or belonged to the chess club. They were part of the football team. Part of the school prom committee.

Back then you had fewer possibilities and limited enthusiasm to be different. Not only were you encouraged to be like everyone else, it was an obtainable expectation to fulfill. There were fewer cracks in the social fabric of schools to fall through. Somebody would catch you sooner or later. Somebody would notice. For SURE, somebody would have the time and heart to care.

Not today happy campers. Today you have the dorks, the geeks, the jocks, the deadheads, the dusters, the prom queen wannabe’s, the nerds, etc. You name it, a click has formed around a tendency, philosophy, physical likeness or sexual tendency. But guess what. There is also the “unassociated losers that will never feel like they truly belong to anything” group.

The trick phrase here is “disassociation through diversity”. People are so encouraged to be different. “Be yourself”. The “If your friends jumped off the bridge would you do it too?” mentality has gone so off the chart that now it is insulting to be considered “like someone else”. Anybody heard of the term “poser”? The every lovely and endearing “wannabe”. So many clicks have spawned from this philosophy that now, like tectonic plates on the Earth’s crust, there are fault lines all over the place sucking up children like it’s nobody’s business.

Children at a very young age attempt to associate with other humans. With their parents the association tends to be simple and straightforward. These are your parents. This is your home. You are part of a family.

At school however, things are a little more complicated. Through several years of schooling you are moved around from one school to another. From one class with some guys you knew to another with a big bunch of strangers. As you grow older the strangers become less permeable. They were the ones that hung around long enough to associate with each other normally. You are the one that was late for the party and now will have to adapt to the idea that “all the teams are complete”. You feel circumcised and ostracized. They all have their human umbrellas open and don’t want to get wet with you.

This is when children begin to feel disassociated with their surrounding. What happened to the parents? Well it’s pretty simple. Children associate well with parents during childhood because they identify as part of a family unit. However when teenagers they are going through a NECESSARY disassociation process with their family to become individuals (in relation to their homes), they were intended to associate with their peers. This unfortunately doesn’t happen for everyone out there.

So what happens when you can’t associate with anyone? You feel alone. What happens when you feel alone for a long time? You feel vulnerable and scared. You become depressed. What happens after a long period of disassociated, lonely, vulnerable depression, during which you are picked on by others “different” to you which, in turn makes you fear contact with others? You fall into a vicious cycle of continuous disassociation with society as a whole. You grow further apart from its ways and ideals. You alienate yourself. You stop caring eventually not only of others and their wellbeing, but also of your own since you can’t find sufficient value in yourself after being overexposed to all the emptiness that surrounds your life. What life? What worth? What value?

Sarcasm is a jewel in the capable mind of a writer but a dangerous glitch in a lonesome antisocial without self worth or social awareness. The dreams we dream don’t seem so complicated to complete. Consequences lack stamina against the wicked and selfishly nearsighted views of a social avenger. Repercussions make no sense to someone who gladly puts himself in front of danger to get a shot at not surviving and therefore ending his misery as he knows it. Revenge is sweet however and these kind of kids are dreadfully romantic with the idea of living the dream like seen through the eyes of a bystander.

How many of us sit around making movies of ourselves in our heads? How much do we fantasize? Now suppose your fantasy is obtainable. Suppose you don’t have to care. Imagine that you don’t understand the word “regret”. Pretend that there is no tomorrow and that your dream is all that matters in your eyes.

The theory of “if you can’t beat them join them” doesn’t apply to individuals like these. Reality is, humans are easily beat in the game of life. Particularly easy when it’s naïve teens versus hurtful cynics with no emotional or social fiber left in them. The theory “bad guys will win because they don’t bother to play by the rules” is so true. These rules which protect the naïve. The innocent. The weak. These rules hold no bearing on individuals that don’t worry about tomorrow. These are people that are ticked off by the fact that they could never belong and therefore, had to give up a lot of their childhood to adapt.

Society invested in diversity and cashed in on singularities they now cannot control, anticipate or single out. You wanted original and now you got the real deal. Raised to not belong. Born into a game with rules only for those touched enough by society to care. I understood perfectly how two teenagers could go through with such callous temper and brave resolve a plan like the one at Columbine. They’re storytellers living out their own legends. Fantasies in their minds woven by their loneliness. Why sit around in misery when you can end it all with glory? What’s the point of wallowing in self-pity when there is revenge to disburse?

In a nutshell: Diversity through the years has allowed for more and more children to fall through the cracks. These children grow up feeling alone and abandoned by the society they seek to belong to. They are too much like others to be original and lead, but also too different to everyone to be allowed to follow. They aren’t part of your game so they don’t care top play by the rules. In a nutshell: they don’t care.

Lesson to be learned: Nothing. This is just part of our evolution and it is as controllable as the human nature we all have inside. Unfortunately, not all of us are as in control as we would like to think of our human nature. Enjoy.

Col"um*bine (?), a. [L. columbinus, fr. columba dove.]

Of or pertaining to a dove; dovelike; dove-colored.

"Columbine innocency."



© Webster 1913.

Col"um*bine, n. [LL. columbina, L. columbinus dovelike, fr. columba dove: cf. F. colombine. Perh. so called from the beaklike spurs of its flowers.]

1. Bot.

A plant of several species of the genus Aquilegia; as, A. vulgaris, or the common garden columbine; A. Canadensis, the wild red columbine of North America.


The mistress or sweetheart of Harlequin in pantomimes.



© Webster 1913.

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