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Attention Deficit Delight, Vol. 6 — The Value of a Butt-Kicking

Maybe you need Billy Jack's foot on the side of your face.
Maybe you need Billy Jack’s foot on the side of your face.

Undiagnosed, disconnected thoughts of the moment

By Tad Wilkes, Nightlife & Lifestyles Editor


Various postulates and brain farts on …

Bigotry and Learning

This installment of Attending Deficit Delight is directed to those of rotted mind. Those unrepentant bigots who use the internet as your white sheet and hood. I have a bone to pick with you.

I don’t generally approve of violence, but at the same time I’ve always believed that those who act a fool without self-regulation perhaps did not have their asses kicked at some point. There’s a good way to run one’s mouth and many bad ways. Good ways to act up and bad ways. Growing up, most boys learn which ways are bad by trying them out and consequently getting their butts kicked.

I once stole frog guts from the seventh grade biology lab and put them in people’s food in the cafeteria. I got paddled pretty hard. Those cloaked in the white robes of internet racist anonymity, however, never get that nurturing butt-whipping.

You there, “man” with the computer. You, who posts vile racist comments under the hilarious YouTube video of Kung Fu Grandpa, directed toward its black creator—just maybe, you need your butt kicked.

You who refer to the African-American (FYI, that’s a type of human being) student body president at Ole Miss as a “monkey” or hurl other slurs her way—hatefully disparaging a great Rebel and potentially dragging my beloved alma mater once again into the spotlight in the worst way—you really need your ass kicked.

You, the shiftless cretin who never attended a course at Ole Miss but complains on the web that “political correctness” is an evil perpetrated by people you don’t know or understand—you should be pulled over to the side of the information superhighway, plucked from your Klan wagon, and have your butt kicked.

You who in any way lands Ole Miss in the national news because of your preening around with views rooted in some lost cause that gives you bodily arousal in times of dire moments of feeling otherwise worthless, you need to step out into the sunlight where we can have a good look at you. Son, you need the absolute dog mess whipped out of you. “But the Civil War wasn’t about slavery,” you mutter from the ground. “Heritage, not hate!” Looks like your beating isn’t over.

Freedom of Speech

I’m all for freedom of speech, and I support your right to be vocal with your diseased views and wild, not-safe-for-work anger. I really do. You are able to do so in a country that protects your freedom and punishes those who would give you the country beatdown that would help you improve as a human being. You’re the same guy who, after you’ve voiced your opinions, moans that those who disagree with you are trying to censor your freedom of speech. Stop eating lead-based paint chips, friend. The freedom of speech is intended to allow a dialogue. That means you have to back up your opinions. After a good sound hillbilly stompin’, I bet you’ll welcome mere verbal feedback the next time.

“But Tad,” you say, “aren’t you a hyprocrite? Aren’t you threatening to whip us from the safety of your laptop?” No. I’m not threatening to beat you. I’m just saying you need it. And it’s not necessarily a physical thing. It’s completely figurative. The world needs to make your lip sting.

Maybe you need your butt stomped in the manner Crunchy Mike did, by being expelled and forever wearing the mantle of having his choices shown to the nation on YouTube. But I think you’d be better off with a discrete punch in the mouth, giving you some fist for thought—and the opportunity to change your mind before you ruin your life and are branded as an infamous waterhead forever.

Good day.

* This column in no way advocates violence nor encourages anyone to actually assault someone.

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