Oliver is one of the numerous brothers God has sent me through the medium of ritual combat. He has obviously adopted me as a mentor and sought some advice outside of the gym this past Sunday. I cannot reconstruct the conversation due to the lateral head shot Charles dropped me with which still has my head buzzing on Wednesday. I can relate the substance of the conversation.
Oliver, at 30, is the patriarch of his family, providing for his two children, two younger sisters and mother, up to and including vehicles and their repair. His mother, who works as an overseas missionary and whom he drives back and forth to the airport, has moved deep into the most rural white refuge in Eastern Maryland, into the actual country. Despite having liberal, Christian sensibilities Oliver’s mother has escaped altogether from Dindustan, in a final home-buying bid to live free of crime—which means free of black neighbors. Of course, she is black, although of non-American origin.
Recently, Oliver has noticed a lot of property crime in her rural Maryland refuge, with their cars being broken into and stripped of valuables. The lady lives out of sight of the closest neighbor and an hour drive for Oliver to get to her.
First he wanted to know why there was crime out there and I informed him that the drug problem among whites in rural areas is every bit as bad as that among blacks in urban areas and that while these whites will very rarely attack you on the street or conduct a blatant home invasion, that she would be in danger of interrupting a burglary and possibly getting hurt.
He told me that she will not permit a gun in her house and will not use one and that when he suggested a dog she insisted on some cute toy dog. Oliver then began conducting a cute Rottwieller campaign, by emailing her photo after photo of Rot puppies until she finally decided that they were just so cute she had to have one. Having worked in a volunteer capacity as a bad guy for a German guard dog training program, Oliver has decided that he will be doing some clandestine training of the cute puppy to make sure it will protect his mother in her rural retreat. These are the type of measures that men in a society designed from above to fragment the natural protective unit of the human species must take to preserve their scattered relatives. One could say that he should not let his mother do so—but society is aligned against such a stance by an eldest son. In any case, the argument is moot, as the methods of economic sustainability left to most postmodern people necessitate that the men of a family will spend most of their time separated from their women and children, who are further thrust into danger in the workplace, during commutes and in the penitentiary-like indoctrination facilities we know as “schools.”
Yesterday I went to pick up my grandson at a rarified school in deep suburbia and was astounded at the security procedures in place, all seemingly focused on preventing estranged husbands from picking up their children without the mother’s authorization. I note the growing Dindu minority leaving school and realize from my experience as an urban father that by the time my grandson reaches junior high school, that he will be shut into these facilities with those raised to prey upon him.
Thriving in Bad Places
James, German shepards Rottweilers, work great, real bad rednecks know how to deal with dogs, have Oliver keep working on the gun, that is why some real bad, criminal type,keep two to three dogs, better to work in pairs, wrap a towel around your arm, as soon as the dog bites, pop it in the head with a silenced 22, it takes a practiced hand to do this, but a lone dog is like a lone human.
Oliver's quandary is much like the one I have experienced with my mother or the one that you have with your own...She's a liberal do-gooder type. Wouldn't want a gun in the house....Nor the conviction/beliefs that she should or would use it if she had one. Her husband (who is a very good man) frequently travels for work. She is often home alone.
From the descriptions you gave she lives in a composite of the the type of place that you and Oliver's mothers reside. They have already had one break in about 15 or so years ago. Not making this up....Gypsies did it. During the day. Busted out the sliding glass door (the worst security feature of suburban architecture ever) They stole all kinds of weird shit ( my half sisters clothing etc. she was about twelve or thirteen at the time, creepy, sick really). The police were able to get a rough estimate of the time in which the burglary took place...They had missed my sister coming home alone after school by minutes. The same group had hit a string of houses in the area and were eventually caught. That's how I know they were Gypsies.
Oh and there was a dog there. He was more a lover than a fighter and hid under the bed the entire time. Glad he didn't end up a bait dog.
Good luck to you and Oliver on changing their minds. I gave up years ago.