The mother’s dual role

A mother does two things.

  1. Provide a controlled, safe, blockaded environment in which a child can grow and learn and flourish.
  2. Surrender that environment and transition to the supportive, conducive enabling agent which will see their child launched into the world.

These two things are diametrically opposed.

Early on a mother MUST contain and protect her child. The world is a vicious, evil place and youth, unguided and unprotected WILL succumb to the temptation or provocations that exist there. The world is there to lure young children into servitude, enslavement, and abuse. A mother must be there to ensure her children are guided away from, and protected against such seductions.

A child needs a wholesome childhood in which to allow abandon and whimsy to flourish and blossom.

Of course that environment does NOT exist in the world. And only a mother can provide that sequestered enchanting world where a child feels safe, free and loved.

Later, when the child learns of the evils of the world, the dastardly vicious workings of people dead-set on taking what that child has worked for, the conniving salacious pursuits of those eager to destroy a young life, the mother must transition into one of support and surrender. She must release her wards, her babes, into a world she knows will try to destroy them.

But in this final act, she must convert her protectionist way to expansionist dreams. “Go, my son. Travel, my daughter. See the world, experience life. I’ve protected you long enough. Now is the time for you to protect yourself. I give to your freedom.”

Imagine the angst in a mother’s heart. The agony of, for years, ensuring the safety and well being of a child, only to, eventually, reverse this mindset and push them out, force them out into an unforgiving world.

For their own good. Always, for their own good. What trauma the poor mother must endure. Protect for ages and then surrender, willfully.

Christ, I’m glad I’m a father.

Trolls crave interaction


There. I just prompted an immediate and discordant reaction from you (or maybe not; if you know me (as if anyone could) you’d know I was toying with your emotions).

I could have said this instead:

“That’s nice dear. Maybe you’re just misunderstood.”

We all (even the troglodyte curmudgeons like me) crave some sort of social interaction. What if, because the skills to elicit heartfelt, genuine emotions are difficult to develop (or understand or realize), that, instead, people lash out, not because they want to hurt others, but because they crave interaction. And have worked out no other means of acquiring it.

Now, that’s pretty fucked up, I’ll admit. Beat a puppy until it screams is one way to get a response. But if one has never been taught (or is smart enough to understand) to pet the puppy instead, to get a response… beating it is quick and effective — response wise.



When no one responds, what happens? Nothing good.

Imagine hunting down and approaching an internet troll. You find them walking down the street in a city cram-packed with people. Everyone ignores him (yeah, he’s a he). He’s buffeted and brushed off. He’s wearing dark, rejection clothing. He hunches his shoulders and you can feel the aggression radiating off him like fuck-you-rays jutting out from his aura. Light dies as he walks by.

You work your way in front of him and stop. He nearly runs into you. He looks up with a deep scowl and you see his lip curl. Then you reach out and hand him a Twinkie.

“Here. This is for you. I love Twinkies. The creamy inside. Spongy cake. I don’t care what anybody says. I love Twinkies.”

He takes it automatically. We all would. He looks you in the eye and says “Fuck you! But thanks.” And then he diverts around you and walks off.

Your job is done. He won’t be trolling anyone today. But he will be jones’ing for another Twinkie. Interaction was all he really wanted. And a Twinkie.