WARNING - Book contains violent and sexually explicit language and depictions.

Excerpts from the book, Romantic Violence in R World

chosen by the author

 

Pre-Teen Years

'It was 1980 - a new decade. I was turning 10, the big double-digits. Bell bottoms and disco were out and America was in the mood for something different. Ronald Reagan was just elected President and all I remember people saying is, “He's an actor that was head of the union, until he became a union-buster. God knows what we'll get.” America was breathing a bitter sigh of relief with our hostages in Iran being released. The feeling was, “Yes, we know our government meddles and tries to control other governments around the world. So what? Welcome to Earth where we run the show.” From now on, it was all about us. It was the start of the "Me Generation‟. With everyone insisting on “living for me” and demanding to know “what's in it for me,” drugs, corruption, abortion, fraud and divorce seemed to become society's new norms.' - (pg 24)

'After a two-week date with Sister JM, she finally let me off the hook. “Okay,” she said with a chuckle, “Let's not have a repeat of this instance. Alright?” “Okay,” I said with a return smile. I wish every kid could get a glimpse of what goes on in the principal's office after school - all the discipline, dirt, crying parents, family problems and everything else. It gave me a weird insight into the repercussions of our actions. You would never know how much of an effect the simple act of teasing a kid can have on an entire family and a child's future.' (pg 44)

'Chris was a triple-letterman and elected to the student council. These were all IC people and they hated stoners and gang bangers. But then, they also hated queers, non-Whites, non-Christians, immigrants, poor people, ugly people, fat people and a host of others. This is the same group that tells me I'm going to hell because I don't go to church, I read tarot cards, I saw a UFO and my parents are divorced. So, I really didn't give a shit what they thought.' (pg 55)

'I put fluorescent orange shoe laces in my baseball spikes. I was also the only kid who would stand behind the backstop having a cigarette between innings or during practice. The coaches always yelled at me, but I didn't care. I loved being different. I felt like everyone else was living their lives day after day like robots. If we only live once, I wanted the full experience of life here on planet Earth. And I wasn't going to get it by being just another face in the crowd.' (pg 56)

'It's a shame the adults lied to us about the dangers of marijuana. I wonder how many kids found out how harmless pot is and assumed the adults lied to us about other drugs too, "Why not try cocaine, heroin and LSD. The adults probably lied about those as well." Thanks to society's lies, thousands of kids die every year because they think hard drugs are as safe as pot. The whole theory about trying to scare kids out of trying pot completely backfired. The unintended consequence is that it's turning kids into heroin junkies and coke heads. Society should have just admitted right from the start that pot is practically harmless. Then, the kids would have believed the adults when they told them how evil, dangerous and deadly all the other drugs are. Just my opinion.' (pg 58)

 

Early Teen Years

'Stoners got pleasure from love, music, sex and the peaceful easy feeling that a good joint provides. I feel like I'm leaving the military academy of the IC boys and transferring to the stoners' school of the arts. These people are definitely colorful. No more fake, stuck-up jocks, cheerleaders and preppies who think they're better than everyone else. They'd rather die than admit they're human, have feelings or ever make mistakes. The stoners like being different. They have no problem laughing at themselves. In a way, it allows them to be less than perfect. I liked being with them. I could be less than perfect too.' (pg 92)

'When she starts yelling, “Faster, faster, harder, harder,” I take it as a personal challenge and I go nuts on her. Actually, I'm afraid I'm going to break our pelvic bones, that's how wild and hard I pound her. Don't forget, this is the same girl that always scratches and digs her nails across my back until I'm bleeding. It's almost violent, but romantic at the same time. It's romantic violence.' (pg 94)

'Chicago is unanimously considered to have the most colorful street gang history of any city in the country. Street gangs are simply a way of life and woven into the fabric of the city itself. But what gang started it all? Which is the oldest gang in Chicago history? That in itself is a rigged question, for street gangs have existed in Chicago, and throughout the world, since the beginning of time. Anyone who's ever seen teenage boys knows that they group-up into cliques or clubs. The only difference between a club and a street gang is the public's opinion of them.' (pg 147)

'Year after year, kids killed each other fighting to push the line one more block into the other's territory. They killed and died for the right to stand out on the corners of Damen and Belmont or Lincoln and Belmont. It's sad to think that after a decade of fighting over Belmont Avenue, the border never moved more than one block from the original dividing line. Like World War I, it was stagnant, bloody, trench-warfare where the front line moved in distances of feet rather than miles. Tragically, Chicago's gang bangers don't have trenches to take cover in. They die right out on the street.' (pg 152)

'Some call it a conspiracy theory. All I know is, in the White neighborhoods, gangs, drugs and non-Whites were all suddenly thrown into the same basket. If you were a gang banger, you may as well have been a nigger. From parents to teachers to neighbors to cops - respected White adults openly preached to us White teenagers, “Why the hell are you in a gang? Gangs are for niggers and spics, not White people.” Big Mac was the first cop, but by no means the last, to say those exact words to me.' (pg 184)

'I looked behind me to see the rest of our boys running for their lives, 20 feet away and in full retreat. I turned back around at Clyde and the GL's just in time to see him and Rican run past me, grabbing me up along the way. Thank God they grabbed my arm. Otherwise, I'd have been left standing there alone and surrounded. The three of us were all alone against a wall of charging Gaylords who were now running full speed literally an arms length behind us. Clyde keeps laughing and yelling, “Shoot 'em! Shoot 'em!” And I look next to me to see Rican pull out a revolver. As we're running, Rican's turning and firing shots at the charging GL's. "Boom. Boom. Boom," the houses and streets echoed with gun fire as all hell broke loose. I could see our guys in front of me splitting up and taking cover in driveways and behind cars. So, I did the same while Rican's gun fired inches from my ear and bullets whizzed past my head.' (pg 189)

 

Middle Teen Years

'A small part of me was a little nervous. But then, a little part of me was always nervous these days. I was an active participant in a number of Chicago's bloodiest gang wars. I had to constantly pay attention to anyone walking or standing around. I had to try and see into every car going by. My ears were always listening for any little sound out of the ordinary, specifically distant yelling, car doors, screeching tires or accelerating car engines. And I was literally looking over my shoulder every thirty seconds, all day and all night. Welcome to the life of a gang banger.' (pg 198)

'That's how I was laying when I came to again, still being savagely beaten. Punches and kicks showered my back and the back of my head. Every few seconds, a major blow would make my ears ring and my vision go black. I have to admit though, aside from dull thuds, occasional sharp shocks and an overall dull pain, I didn't feel much. I guess I was either in shock or my adrenalin was numbing the pain. As the beating went on, I somehow managed to tune the rest of the world out – no sounds and no feelings. I was now alone with my thoughts and the site of the dirty concrete and glass wall, both grinding into my face. That was the part I couldn't escape.' (pg 222)

'I was a mess. I wanted to die. My senses were useless. My nerves were shot. My brain was turned off and my heart was broken. I had just been emotionally and psychologically murdered. Even the two times my parents literally beat me when I was a kid were nothing compared to the pain I was feeling now. For the first time in my life, I wanted to die. I wanted this pain to end now. Only minutes after my mother left my room for good, and still crying uncontrollably, I slid on my stomach to the edge of my bed. Reaching down between the mattress and the box spring, I pulled out my .22 pistol.' (pg 243)

'As the two of us sat in the hospital bed together, Giggles gently passed Baby Mark to me as the lawyers handed her a stack of papers, each with colorful little arrows sticking out showing us where to sign. Giggles looked down at the papers, not even trying to read them through her teary-eyed vision. I could see the nervous anticipation in everyone's eyes as they stared intently at her, waiting for her to lift up the pen. And then, Giggles signed away her rights and all the hopes and dreams that came with it. Giggles and I would still have hopes and dreams for Baby Mark. Only now, after hitting the World Series homerun and being sworn in as President of the United States, it would be his new parents that he would thank for all the love and support. Giggles and I would still be cheering, rooting and praying for him, only from afar.' (pg 255)

 

Later Teen Years

'When we looked at the cigarette cellophane, we were horrified to see eight tiny little specs. They looked like baby aspirins for Barbie dolls. “Its microdot,” Thor said when he looked at it, “I've seen them before.” “Its acid,” he reassured us, “It's just a little different than blotter.” “They say it's made with strychnine,” he added trying to scare us, “Seriously, that's what they say.” “Well, that figures,” Einstein threw out, “We were smoking formaldehyde the other day. Why not add a little rat poison while we're at it.” I honestly didn't believe that the happy sticks were formaldehyde or the microdot was strychnine. How could the world let so many people get away with selling that kind of stuff to children? As far as I was concerned, that had to be the ghetto versions of real LSD and PCP. There was no way we were doing the cheap, deadly substitutes. But none of us really knew for sure.' (pg 411)

'It's not like I'm awaiting some anarchy or Armageddon. I simply believe the government is screwing the people over and sooner or later we're going to fight back. For me, every time I apply for a good job or I look at the college and university applications, they all have giant screaming headlines that read, "We're an equal opportunity institution. We don't discriminate based on race, creed, sex or religion.‟ But each time I look at the fine print, they all say the same thing, "We do however award extra and special consideration to individuals that meet one of the following criteria – you are a veteran, female, disabled or a member of a minority group.‟' (pg 415)

'As far as I was concerned, “If you're gonna attack me for being a White, Christian, heterosexual, able-bodied, non-veteran, male - I'm going to fight back as a White, Christian, heterosexual, able-bodied, non-veteran, male. If any part of society would have acknowledged and fought against sabotaging an entire generation of White kids, except the rich ones of course, many White teens like me would never have hooked up with the revolutionary underground in the first place.' (pg 416)

'I heard it, but I couldn't believe it. I wouldn't have believed it if I didn't see the Stone's body drop out from under him. “Holy shit,” I said. The sound of the gun wasn't that loud considering how quiet the neighborhood was. But I don't think it mattered. He shot him from five feet away and the guy dropped like a bag of wet cement. My brain was suddenly sober, but my body was still wasted. The Royal bolted one way and I took off in the other direction, trying to drive and act casual. I dropped off the DC boys and got home as fast as I could. I couldn't believe what just happened.' (pg 430)

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