It’s More than just Bad Language

The Daily Post – Struggle

Far More than just Bad Language, it’s also knowing Right from Wrong.

This post is far more than just about bad language in our society, it is about knowing right from wrong. Due to recent events in the news, where people no longer seem to know what is out of order. They have crossed that line, the one which we are taught when growing up, not to cross, when we are taught what is right and wrong and how to react. This is not about one single act of violence against innocent people going about their lives, it not just about bad language it is about Anger and Hatred in our society. My thoughts are with everyone who has suffered loss at the hands of someone else, of the people who were taken without thought, far too soon and their loved ones who are left behind.

As I ask myself and those around me, what made everyone so angry all of the time, what removed the ability to see what is right and wrong? I, like so many others am searching for the answers, this is simply my own point of view.

When did the world become so intolerant? Where children were brought up not to swear will suddenly let rip and every sentence is filled with expletives. I find it unnerving, it didn’t used to be the norm. Is it an age thing. I’m not old, so I don’t think it is. Of course there were people who swore a lot when I grew up, but they didn’t do it at everyone, they usually had to be severely provoked for the occasional swear word to escape their lips. To be fair, I came from a home where religion played a pretty large part. It was not acceptable to use these words to express your anger or frustration. I know times have changed, but it seems that so many people have forgotten that there are other words which also suffice. Apparently if you are in your twenties or so, it is perfectly normal to “let them have it with both barrels” if something displeases you in any way and in no uncertain terms. I know someone who is like this, who has what I’ll politely refer to as a “fiery temper” she was not chastised by her parents and got away with it, but not with me. As a consequence, she usually has a certain level of respect afforded for me, which she lacks in others. It is not just her though, I have noticed in the workplace, walking down the street, in stores, it makes no difference it is wherever you go. Perhaps it is as simple as that in others too, people will get away with it if you let them.

So, what made the world so incapable of articulating their anger without peppering the conversation with the F word, or worse? Ok so maybe I am a little old fashioned along with my values. As a consequence some language makes me feel uncomfortable and I guess that’s partly what I have a problem with, I don’t want to be around it so I ask myself, am I over sensitive? Don’t get me wrong, there have been more than enough times when I have wanted to let rip too, but I wasn’t brought up that way, so I have an inbuilt off switch, something that does allow me to weigh the consequences of my words and actions. Where my common sense kicks in and tells me that “This is not a good idea” and I tone it down. I still get my point across and to some people it drives them all the more mad that I am not ranting and raving about it in the process. I have worked around people who F and Blind as it used to be known. I’m not pretending to be a saint, sure, I get cross and upset, but is there really a requirement to abuse the person you are angry with over some triviality. Why do people think that shouting abuse at someone would make them more inclined to listen to your point? I have also found that this is usually done by the people who claim to be intelligent and at least have an understanding of the common language.

So have we all resorted to guttural language to get our point across and anger when we cant?
When did we become so Angry? Are the people who are getting angry, going to know the difference between the right and wrong ways to enable them to change things, or are they just fed up at not getting their own way. Will they be so inarticulate that they will be unable to get their point however valid it may, or may not be, across to the masses? Or am I so outdated in my approach that this is all the masses understand? For this has now become the norm. In moments of extreme frustration I have been known to resort to the same level, to get my point across. I am not proud of such an outburst, immediately regretting it and such behaviour usually backfires on me. I have always prided myself on a decent command of the English language that I was able to get my point across without the use of such words. Am I old fashioned that I feel offended when I see Facebook comments that are littered with such words. It is wrong that I don’t want to read them, the person who writes them might be truly upset, or they just might be venting uncontrollable anger and I don’t want to get in their way. There is no willpower, no control over their anger and where does it lead.

I am a peacemaker by nature. I don’t like conflict, I will try and diffuse a volatile situation wherever possible, dealing with my own feelings of discomfort later. I have been downtrodden by the process at times, but I will only take so much before I go into battle with my assailant. It is the curse of the millennial that nothing is good enough for them, that they are hard done by, when they do not get what they want and they feel that the world owes them better. Is it that they weren’t slapped at their outbursts, shown that it was not good behaviour to use such language and show disrespect to the people around them. When did they lose the tools to show their displeasure in normal language, or were they not taught them in the first place and if not why the hell not?

In my own home, I now swear from time to time, it isn’t pretty and it happens rarely, but not as rarely as it should. Does that make me a hypocrite? No, I don’t think so because it rarely affects anyone else, it is usually borne of frustration or physical pain. When I’m outside of the home, it is a different matter, if other people are in earshot, I am conscious of my words and getting my point across in a “grown up” manner without the use of expletives, as a consequence I’m very rarely misunderstood when something angers or upsets me. It takes a lot for me to really blow my top and I try to remain calm to get my point across, but when that just isn’t possible, you’d better watch out.

Is it about respect, not just for their elders, or lack of it?
There were simply words it was not polite or excused to use when we were growing up. You would be chastised for their use and called a fishwife, it was just not acceptable behaviour. So when did it all change? Sure there were people who swore when they got upset, but you gave them a wide berth and stayed away from them, so when and why did it become the new norm? I am curious to know what influenced it?
I don’t think that the world in general has become a worse place, it is the people within it who have made it so. A place where people think twice about bringing children into the world, because of what is going on here. The people have become far less tolerant over time. There were wars, but there have always been people who do not get along and they have fought. But there certainly seems to be more anger and hatred than there used to be and more wars, which usually seem to be brought about by greed. More and more, it seems that people resort to explosive anger and violence just to get their point across. There are too many voices and they are all shouting, so now no-one will listen, so is it down to who is shouting the loudest that will win and be heard. Did the world stop discussing things, simply because people stopped doing what they said they would do? They changed their minds and didn’t think to tell the others, thinking that they didn’t have to be held accountable for their actions any more. The world would let them away with it and it has. Where punishment for your wrongdoing is either non-existent or disregarded due to it’s lack of severity.

We are surrounded by loud mouthed abusive children, who have now grown into disrespecting adults who are incapable of doing anything, who survive on their cunning by trying to be clever and outwit the people remaining who do have a sense of right and wrong. A disposable society which does not value anything or it’s worth, just it’s price. They now grown into adults who have children of their own who are being brought up in their own image and it is getting worse!

Don’t get me wrong, Good People still exist….

I know many people who have become great parents who are teaching their children right and wrong and whose families show each other the proper respect and this continues into the outside world around them. I also speak to teachers who are dealing with the aftermath of the “no punishment” brigade and go to work every day in fear of their safety. For the abuse they will receive from their pupils and are rendered powerless by the authorities to stop it. Living on their wits, when just a stern word could cause them to lose their lives due to the weapons which are brought into schools by children and used “to teach the grown ups a lesson”. These Teachers do this job, because they live in the hope that they are making a change for the better, that if they listen to their pupils and their voices are heard, if they teach them right from wrong, then the world will become a better place. Then the marks made on society will be achievements and good, not how many people’s lives have been lost or people maimed and damaged in the process of rising to the top.

We should not accept living in a society born of fear. Where you cannot leave your home without carrying a weapon, where you cannot own something nice, for fear of someone else wanting to take it away. For people resenting what you have because you have worked for it. Wake Up World, there is still time to change this and it isn’t going to be achieved by killing people who don’t see your point of view.

 

This One’s for my Boy. Happy Birthday Prince of Night.

This is for someone very special who is very close to my heart and who is five years old Today, he is my furry son.  Happy Birthday Prince of Night today we will sing your Birthday song, together.

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Happy Birthday Prince of Night.

For one you’d pay a Kings Ransom,
He is so fiendishly handsome.
Five years ago I knew that he was on his way,
My baby boy was born, a call, today’s the day!
You see I’d met his parents and they’d put me on the list,
And they wanted me to have one, so offered me this gift.
He is the best present, that I ever could have wished,
I remember each morning as I’ve just been kissed.
Said that I’d be happy to act as baby sitter,
He was one of Mika and Bear’s first litter
Off I went to see them, with a skip and a dance,
Seven bundles born that day, one didn’t have a chance.
Of seven beautiful puppies, there was one poor little mite,
They lost him the next morning, he was too tired to fight.
But with Mika remained six beauties, so healthy and so strong.
I had to wait to see them, two weeks would seem too long.
With regular puppy updates,
No info I would lack.
I went there to climb the gates,
My first visit to the pack.
They were so very tiny, you could look but couldn’t touch.
Mika stood on guard there and for Bear it was all too much.
I clambered in to see him, he was all but in a muddle,
Buried hands deep in his fur, he needed a big cuddle.
I told him he had done so well,
Those kids would make him proud.
That over years time will tell,
If they could sing as loud.

The next time I was able, to see them I was met
With six furry little ones and which I’d choose, who’d bet?
On each and every visit there,
My Camera I would take
Always Hello to Mika and Bear
A record I would make.
The day that they were big enough
I ventured again to see
Sat myself upon the floor
Each puppy climbed on me.
Soon I was amass with smiles galore,
Nestled in wherever they could, with puppies on the floor.
I would have to make a choice soon,
“Sure, I’d take all six”
But reality had hit me
And a date we had to fix.
I thought I’d always wanted, a neat and tidy grey
But it wasn’t one who chose me, on that fateful day.
You see that a decision, was written in the stars,
The one that was there to love me and help me heal my scars.
There seemed to be just one there,
Who watched me as I walked.
And as I said Hello to them,
He noticed when I talked.
There were six bouncy bundles,
Three greys, three black and white
Over laps and toys they tumble,
While some will fuss and fight.
But this one stood out for me, apart from all the rest
Not the biggest of the litter, but that one, he’s the best.
While other’s went off alarming,
He was thoughtful and quiet,
He sat there looking charming,
Didn’t worry for his diet.
When I sat there with them, he was filled with curiosity,
And tumbled round the others, to come and sit with me.
For a moment regarded and thought that I might toy,
But I knew that we’d decided, that ours would be a boy.
Playing with this little lot, became the weekend game,
And as the time went by us, we decided on a name.
My suggestion to call him Kato, since it conjures up a smile
Reminding me of the films I loved, would suit him by a mile.
So at six weeks I’d ask him if he was to be the one,
A raised paw on my knee to show me that I would be his Mum.

We had to leave him there, just for a few weeks more,
Now that it was decided, I missed him all the more.
The day arrived in August, when I could pick him up,
He was the first to leave them, the bravest little pup.
I had to fill in papers, give him a kennel name,
I listened to the ones they’d chose, he’d never be the same.
I chose the one that suits him, he is now Prince of Night,
Of all the other options, it suited him just right.
So with all the toys and blankets and our puppy by my lap,
Time was up, we headed off and he began to nap.

We took him in the house, allowed him to walk and roam,
All around the place and garden, that would be his home.
I put on a new collar, it seemed so big on him,
It went round his neck, was sure it would need a trim.
Since he’d been in a kennel, with all his litter mates,
A bath with him was needed, great care with him we’d take.
I brushed him gently after wrapped him in a big soft towel,
He trusted me to love him, didn’t need to fuss or howl.

Over years he’s been here with us,
We all have learned a lot,
That he doesn’t sing for sirens,
And he’s happy with what he’s got.
He doesn’t sit there wishing,
For something that is yours,
He’s love to go off fishing,
Or running through the moors.
His favourite food is fish, but also something nice,
Is when you are making curry, he’ll have chicken and some rice.
Or if you’re cooking sausages, or offering a prawn,
But when he’s not too hungry, he’ll turn his back and yawn
Sitting by my feet, as I prepare some food,
Doesn’t beg for bit’s and pieces, that would just be rude!
He has lovely manners, will ask for things nicely.
And when you offer him a treat, he’ll skip around with glee.
As he grew older, he learned to sing and talk,
Answering my questions, always Yes to take a walk.

We dance around the garden, now the house is feeling small,
And with paws on your shoulder, he really is so tall.
He has his little nicknames, we call him Little Ted,
As morning is arriving, he’s bouncing on the bed.
Lazing about on his back, paws to face the sun,
He is so very funny and is still our little one.
In mischievous moments, he is the “Furry villain”
His best friend of all, is a Labrador called Dillon.
He’s getting kind of heavy when he sits upon your feet.
And should a visitor come to call, he’ll always race to meet.
Such character in him it catches us all out,
A cheeky moment, now and then the rules he tries to flout.
Life with all his nonsense, is certainly not boring.
But never had I thought we’d find one so adoring.

We’ll be singing “Happy Birthday,” it is his favourite song.
It’ll only take two notes to start and he will sing along.
There will be a present and something nice to eat,
We’ll take him somewhere fun, a family outing treat.
There’ll be celebrations in our house this week,
Visiting relations and his chance to speak,
He’ll skip about the garden tell them about it all,
If the weather’s sunny will play there in his pool.
Before the day arrives, we’ll treat him to a brush,
Take it nice and slowly, there’s not a need to rush.
I will brush his face, around his fluffy ears,
slowly round his breeches, do not alert his fears.
Brushing round his tummy, he’ll wriggle and he’ll whine,
And many hours later, he’ll be starting to feel fine.
As now several years later, our son is turning five,
every morning when I see him, I’m glad to be alive.
Over years we have taught him, to love and not to fight,
We found life is much simpler when things are Black and White.