The whole world is filled with news of violence and chaos.
In the United States of America the killing of white police officers by disaffected black men continues, with a new tragedy almost every day. The abortive military coup in Turkey seems to be the beginning of a Stalinesque purge by President Erdogan. An insane muslim petty criminal kills and critically injures over 100 people in the French town of Nice, with a truck.
The Middle East in still in flames with muslim fanatics in Iraq, (Daesh, IS, ISIL, ISIS, whatever), inflicting torture, rape, and murder on women and anyone they don’t like, (mostly non muslims, homosexuals, and women). The strangling of ‘selfie queen’ Quandeel Baloch by her brother is just the most recent and high profile honour killing in supposedly civilised countries like Pakistan and India. Millions of refugees are on the move, many of them trying to gain access to a better life in Europe.
Gentleness, self-sacrifice, and generosity are the exclusive possession of no one race or religion. ~ Mahatma Gandhi
In the European Union, crime by these self-same refugees is endemic, particularly rape and sexual assault. Meanwhile, England has decided to leave the European Union, (Brexit), and today the British Parliament will vote to replace our fleet of nuclear ballistic missile submarines with something even deadlier.
What strikes me is that the vast majority of this mayhem is committed by men. One has to ask if deep within the male of the human species is an hereditary propensity to aggression, violence, mayhem, jealousy, and conflict.
You know what? There is. Males are naturally violent and competitive. Look at the entire natural kingdom, from the tiny robin bird, to alpine goats, to man, and we see violent competition for territory, food, and females.
It’s only common sense and a higher, (almost altruistic), need to protect the survival of the species, as against one’s own gratification, survival, and the promotion of one’s own genetic heritage, that keeps species, (including mankind), from wiping themselves out.
In the past I have been guilty of aggression, excessive competitive urges, violence, manipulation, a need for instant gratification, and insane jealousy. But, do you know something else? The better part of mankind sublimates aggressive urges and instead cultivates serenity and a strong desire to do no harm.
The better man is safe, reliable, dependable, altruistic, friendly, kind, and protective. Women feel safe around that kind of man. Going to the extremes of available responses should only be resorted to for the protection of oneself and others, especially those you care for.
Some day you will find out that there is far more happiness in another’s happiness than in your own. ~ Honore de Balzac
Randomly killing people is the sign of a diseased and inferior mind, body, and spirit.
Just a small drab woman in a small drab room.
He only hit her once. The roundhouse knocked her off the kitchen chair on which she was trying to make herself as small and unobtrusive as she possibly could. She grabbed at something as she tumbled to the floor and that pulled the other kitchen chair toward her. It broke as it didn’t really break her fall.
Her head was spinning and all she could see was his shoes in front of her face. She hoped he wouldn’t kick her face with those dirty shoes. She didn’t know what she had done to annoy him so much.
The shouting, swearing, raving had been bad, and the threats worse. She didn’t think he would strike her, smash his hand into the side of her face, pummel her with all the power in that stocky body. In that instant she had seen the exultant look in his eyes as he expressed his total mastery. She did not know where she had gone wrong.
They had promised to love, honour, and cherish one another. Then came his need for drink, gambling, soft drugs, other women. Then came the lost apartments because he took all the money she had earned for their food and rent. The repossessed car, the unpaid credit card bills, the times he wouldn’t come home for days on end. The shouting and swearing were not as bad as the indifference and abandonment.
Once again she thanked whatever God there was that there were no children. She didn’t know if she could bear it if there were children to see her total degradation before his vicious domination.
Tears ran sideways down her face and mingled with the blood from her busted lip, a small stain on the dirty carpet.
She heard the cheap screen door slam as he left, the way he’d left her so many times before, debased, humiliated, hurt. She was glad he hadn’t wanted fast meaningless sex before he deserted her again.
He had only hit her once. Back there, in the dark recesses of what was left of her mind, she knew that one blow was only the beginning. The abuse would continue, he would go on using her as a whipped bitch, nothing but a degraded shadow married to a beast. Nobody would care if he eventually killed her.
She was just a small empty woman in a small empty room.
Go ahead with your life, your plans, your dreams and desires, as fully as you can.
he just doesn’t have the time
he physically intimidates her
if you only did what I told you
she wears a scarf to hide the bruises
he makes her have sex with other men
she had to prove her love too soon
he killed her confidence with sneers
he told her secrets to his drinking buddies
she doubted her own memory
in public, he said she was lying
he will tolerate nothing but the best
he likes to humiliate her
he’s only abusive when he’s been drinking
she must not disturb his routine
he forces her to sleep on the floor
often she doubted her own sanity
he said she was just a bitch from the office
where was she and why didn’t she call?
he confuses her with his mind games
he is underhanded and abusive
why won’t she take the tranquilisers?
he checks her household account book
he tells her she never had a cat
he likes to use objects in her
he says she is a bitch and a loser
he likes to see her to suffer pain
when he wants, the way he wants her
he said she looked like a slut
please slow down, you almost hit that truck
she will be left homeless and broke
he never actually hit me
she walks into the sea under dawn’s early light,
and never once looks back
words and pictures by jack collier