Do Fish Fight?

I overheard a conversation today in which it was purported that violence is abnormal and anyone who lashes out violently must be mentally ill. I was standing in line next to the couple in at a local Wal-Mart (yes, I shop at Wal-Mart); so was privy to a great deal of the conversation. It was only moments later that this same couple suddenly began swearing loudly, flung their cart full of scanned items across the aisle where it slammed into a shelf of summer clearance merchandise, and stormed out of the store. I chuckled at the dichotomy of expressed thought and displayed action. On the way home I honked angrily and flipped off a driver who cut me off. Is violence abnormal?

At home I sat near my backyard pond and watched my Koi swimming peacefully; grazing on roots and occasionally skimming the top for edible debris. I watched for the remainder of the morning and did not observe a single confrontation in my pond. There were near collisions without altercation, and tidbits of food pursued without aggression. Do fish fight? Aside from the infamous fighting Beta, has there ever been a all out brawl between trout documented? How about the guppy; has anyone ever seen a group of guppies riot? Or a salmon slap fest? We see crows killing other birds, and sparrows dive bombing crows. We see wolves and coyotes fight over food, territory, or dominance. Horses fight for similar reasons; and just about every species takes part in aggressive acts within their group. Are they all abnormal, mentally ill? What about Homo sapiens? Is violence among humans an indication of mental illness; and if so, what degree of violence is the threshold between normal and abnormal?

Just about anyone who has been around a toddler will tell you that they bite, kick, and hit. These are traits that we parents teach our children not to do. We teach our children to express their anger and frustration with words or to control the emotions to such an extent that they become buried and perhaps lead to excessive submissiveness or other issues which as adults may lead to psycho-therapy. Very young children naturally throw toys, stomp their feet, fling whole bodies to the floor and writhe or thrash with rage. They bite if they don’t get what they want, and they kick or hit in frustration or anger at having things taken away. And we adults punish them for these natural behaviors, sometimes spanking, swatting, or slapping hands while we say “don’t hit” (now that’s a dichotomy of words and actions). By the time a child reaches school age, they are expected to interact with others without any form of aggression; of those without pre-school or socialization prior to elementary education most children fail during their first days in a classroom.

As a society we speak out against violence but at the same time we promote violence in just about everything we do. From the sports we play to the movies we watch we incorporate violence into our lives. Sports like football, boxing, ultimate fighting, hockey are multimillion dollar businesses. The wrestling industry is promoted to children through mass marketing of action figures and other toys. As parents we may chose to not purchase such toys as guns or swords; but our children soon discover that a finger and thumb can be a gun and a stick becomes a sword. Rather than banning our children from these instruments shouldn’t we instead teach them their proper uses? Movies for adults and children contain scenes or at minimum the suggestion of violence. Examples of children’s movies are: Monsters Inc., Transformers, The Lion King, UP, and I would guess any Disney or Pixar movie ever made (please correct me if I am wrong and tell me what movie does not contain violence). For adults it is difficult to find a movie that does not have some form of violence. Of course this is nothing new; recall the early silent films, the old radio shows, Aesop’s Fables, and the Greek Tragedies. Violence is not new to this world; it is not unique to this century or our current society. Violence and aggression are innate traits in Homo sapiens; even our religions are evidence of our propensity for violence.

If we can understand that violence is simply a part of human nature, that it is a part of our ‘fight or flight’ reaction; perhaps we can begin to address the issues of violence in our society. As we attempt to subdue these urges in our children and ourselves; we also promote these impulses through our media and entertainment industries. How can we expect to decrease the incidence of child/spousal abuse, workplace/school violence, road rage, or hate crimes; while our everyday lives are inundated with images and messages of violence? Simple common sense tells us we cannot. We must change our messages before we can change our behaviors.

Last Night I Had a Dream

Dreams are strange things, sometimes you wake with just fragments of images from a dream, other times you remember nothing and then there are those dreams that just keep nagging at you throughout the day; images that pop into your head disrupting your thoughts and dragging you back into the full details of the dream. Perhaps it is because sometimes a dream is more than just a dream.



The other night I had one of those dreams that lingers through the day and into the next. I stood at the top of three stone steps, on the first step lay five stick figures made of straw; two large and three small. I looked up to see four Native American Elders, dressed in traditional garb. These men told me that the figures on the step were a sign that "five have gone into the dessert". The next thing I saw in this dream was my boots walking through the desert, and my hand stretching down to leave bottles of water under sage brush and cactus.



This was the entire dream. It was short and quiet, but it has been bothering me for three days now. What does it mean? Why would I dream something like this? It could be about immigration, that seems to be the simple answer; I speak out about the injustice and growing prejudice that is occuring in the fight against undocumented immigration. Building walls, or fences is not the answer. Sending undocumented immigrants back across the border is not the answer. The answer to the immigration problems is in the home country of the migrating people, and the policies of our own government that promotes the inflow of undocumented workers (but that is another blog). I don't think this particular dream is about immigration, I think it is something else.

What am I missing? Is it in the numbers; three steps, five people, four elders? Or is the key in the words; straw, water and desert? Every image and word from this dream has invaded my thoughts over the past few days. I could just accept that the dream was inspired by my concern for the many people who struggle to come to America; but that just isn't right, I know it isn't right; there is a deeper meaning to this dream that I just can't put my finger on.

Twisted Humor

A news forum contributor who goes by the handle "Vintage Viner" asked the question "So, What Are Some of the Things That Make You Laugh, and Why?" (5/7/10, http://www.newsvine.com/). This was such a sweet article and the responses were all so kind and nice; I really enjoyed reading the whole thing. But then I got to thinking, those things are kind of funny, but what really gets me laughing is far from sweet and innocent. I really didn't want to sully Vintage Viners' article with my macabre sense of humor; so I decided to write my own article where others of my ilk can share their more sinister rib-ticklers.

Just the other day, I had a good laugh when my son was thrown from one of our horses. I know, your thinking "how cruel"; but really it was hillarious. It wasn't that he was bucked off, or that he landed in wet sand. It was the way he just hung in mid-air for a long second; long enough for me to study the expression on his face (I continue to chuckle as I write this). But I am not alone in my amusement at my son's expense. No, the whole family was there, and we were all cracking up, as my son brushed the sand from his clothes. We laughed all the harder as my son explained how he had sufficient time while hanging in the air to plan out several options on how he should land.

I laughed for hours after my daughter-in-law smashed her finger between two rocks. Now, come on, that's funny! I also found it amusing when my nephew was tossed off his horse, who he was trying to ride with just a halter and lead for the first time. She was heading for a stand of trees to scrap him off with, so I'm guessing he was pretty lucky to have been tossed before she got there. And I laughed when my granddaughter bumped her head on the cabinet, then did it again to make sure it really hurt before she cried about it. Of course I also laughed when I splashed hot olive oil on my hand while making dinner the other night (dumb move).

Do I sound like a horrible person? Perhaps I need therapy? If so, I am not alone. Two summers ago the family and I went camping. This in itself is not unusual or particularly funny but what happened proved to me that my family and I are not the only evil people on the earth. As a matter of fact I think most campers have a twisted sense of humor. We didn't go out on our own, away from humanity as we usually do; this time we went to a public campground, paid the fee, and set up in a tiny square of dirt surrounded by dozens of other campers. It was noisy, and smoky, and unpleasant for the most part. There were showers, and other facilities and even paved roads and trails (yuck). As the sun was setting there were two boys riding their bikes on all these stretches of pavement. They were having a great time, which was somewhat annoying (as any young boy having a good time can be). It slowly got darker and darker and the campground got quieter and quieter; except for these two bicycling boys. Then one said "Maybe we should stop, it's getting pretty dark" to which the other replied "Nah, I can see fine". Immediately after that we heard: bump, bump, squeal, thump, scream, and crash! After only the slightest moment of silence the entire campground burst into laughter. I'm sure somebody, somewhere, felt sympathy for that poor boy; but they weren't in the campground that night.

So, think what you will of me, I am sure that even you have laughed at someone else's misfortune. These little stories here are only a tiny fraction of the tales I could tell of hardy, evil laughter. Now, I invite you all to share your moments of macabre humor.