© Chris Port, 2010
What would you do if someone tried to kill you? For money? Or because they didn’t like the way you thought? Or spoke your mind? Well, that’s what they do.
Who are "they"? Who knows? I do. The cowards in the shadows. The big egos with little talents. The bitter. The jealous. The deluded. The ones who crave fame to feed the emptiness inside. The corrupt and the incompetent. The cabals.
Who do they do it to? Well, mostly to each other. Which is fine with the rest of us. But, unfortunately, they also do it to people like you and me. Just because our existence gets in their way. Even when we’re trying to help them.
Like the drunks who punch and spit at nurses. Like the students who do the same to their teachers. Like the management who stifle a mourn at the funerals of those they worked to death. Overworking, undermining, backstabbing. Corpse-stepping over people’s depressions. And suicides. Deliberately. With premeditation. And malice aforethought. Without conscience.
In some people’s eyes, that’s attempted murder. Not the sort of thing you ‘just let go’. Are these the people you want in charge of your children's future?
Well, what would you do? I’ve met people who, if someone tried to kill them, would have no hesitation in arranging an unfortunate accident by way of a courtesy call. It’s only good manners. But, fortunately, teachers are gentle men. That’s why they’re teachers.
Writers, however, are a different kettle of fury. Words are our bullets. And songs our grenades. Purely legal methods. Unlike the enemy, who practice far darker arts. Dark, and unprovable. In a court of law, anyway. But that’s the beauty of fiction. You don’t need to prove it. All you have to do is tell it. As it never happened...