Children

 

Every morning there is a news announcement of a mass shooting. This has become the norm for awakening, with no snooze button. Doesn’t seem if it is a declared war of country against country even though the warriors killing each other have no qualm against each other or just some fool with an automatic weapon that either has some self-involved demented mission angary against the other and ready for self-devolved revenge for some unknown fable or momentarily upset with one hand on the trigger?

Whatever the excuse, the authorities who are assigned to clean up the mess will investigate theories and possibilities and reports the same lack of reason with no solution.

All they can report from accumulated data is the body count. This can’t be right so the numbers are varied with an ‘at least’ because there may be some more no one noticed.

For whatever journalist reasons, the reports include those who were shot and some who died at the scene were children. Does that make death and mayhem more empathic than elderly or disabled or just some middle age folk who were in the wrong place at the wrong time?

I admit I have limited knowledge of this ‘children’ thing. I enjoyed the process to producing the little buggers, but for various reasons never sired another little person called ‘children’. At least there are no creatures walking this blue bubble with my likeness that I know of.

Either way, it is the ‘mother’ who must take responsibility after the squirt. She’s got to cook the bun in the oven and carry it around until it is ready to make a break for it.

Whether welcomed by the couple who coupled for this wonderful moment of birth or assigned a name or number and given a blue or pink blanket due to the outdoor plumbing.

So, this little person arrives, but unlike a pet, must be attained to every minute. It must be fed, it must be cleaned up because it has no control over bodily functions, it must have a place to sleep. It screams when uncomfortable without being able to communicate why. The woman who bares the child (usually) is assigned the duty of maintaining it's life or others may have to step in to attempt to keep another human being alive.

The children; they don’t know. Someone has to teach them how to walk and how to talk. They must learn to feed themselves. The must learn to relieve themselves in a sanitary manner. This is the requirement of society.

From here, children are paraded with pride. Families (especially mothers) can gather and talked out their children’s clothing, carting mechanics, toys and stuffed animals and there are lots of pictures on phones.

Children play. They do silly things and everyone finds it endearing. They don’t know. They don’t have to go to work. They don’t have to choose their clothing. They don’t have to worry about taxes. They are free to do whatever they want until taught restrictions.

Most countries have some sort of system to educate children. This process only works when the child is a certain age and is expected to be taught by a family member to walk, speak and behave in a manner able to associate with other children. At this point, children learn society accepted expectations and the caste system of achievement.

Children, little humans that have been produced by ourselves, don’t know about religion or God or prejudice or hate or kindness or empathy. Some feelings are felt by changes in hormones and visual experiences, but they are taught and learn from others.

So, when the body count is reported, why are these cute little creatures we cherish so much, be on the list? Doesn’t anyone realize that this is the next generation? Sure, the old folk can be bombed because they don’t have much more time left anyway, but children have all the possibilities of creating the next cultural influencer or tune or must have or become the next political name spouting popular propaganda while begging for your money and fame until forgotten or make the headlines as the next mass murderer.

“Women and children first” were always the cry for they were the most venerable (and the next generation) why us guys were expendable. Don’t get into wealth or color or faith to find your place on the food chain.

Tomorrow will be another ‘breaking news’ report of some atrocity and to bring out the tissues, many are children.

Another life lesson.