The Perverse “Reasoning” of the Modern Masses

Terrorized for ten years, by neighbourhood punks,
Fiona Pilkington, 38, of Leicestershire,

believed that she was saving her daughter from potential
– if not certain – abuse … killed her disabled child, Francecca, 18
… before taking her own life in October, 2007.

Were that not enough, she did so,
by placing the girl’s pet bunny rabbit on her knee,
in an effort to calm her.

All three died (presumably) horrifically
when Fiona applied a match to petrol-soaked clothing
that she had piled in the back of the car.

Press Photo

Mother and daughter had been the target
of local neighbourhood punks –
subjected to taunts, threats, and harassment
… for ten years.

Parking her car, Fiona embraced her beloved daughter
before striking the match
that would ignite an explosion of flame.

The woman had tried – tried – to get help …
called police on some 30 occasions … for 10 Years,
her calls are logged in police records
from the 17th of November 1997 to 2007.

But police had no time for mere “anti-social behaviour”

… and neighbours (of course) “didn’t want to get involved”.

Spineless, conscienceless Society
at its 21st century standard.

Except, of course, after the fact:
the modern masses are Very Brave then.
In learning about the death of this woman and daughter,
Internet citizens feel very free to voice their fury –

Ire and voiced outrage
… at the mother
who murdered her own daughter.

The means.

Not one bit of collective consideration
for The Cause. The Reason it happened.

“Parents” unleash savages to prey upon the timid
and quiet members of 21st century society … and yet,
are completely devoid of any sense of shame
for their part in “raising” vicious, conscienceless predators.

“Clubbing” and “drinking” as teens, roaming the streets at will;
copulating for entertainment – well, they’re ‘just being teenagers’,
after all.

In the 1960’s and even ‘70’s, even television
had the moral centre to broadcast the nightly message
“It’s ten o’clock: do you know where your children are?”

That was then.

And Now ? – Well, parents know where their children are all right.
And THAT is the disgusting atrocity. The days of a general,
public expectation of common decency
have been eradicated from society for more than 30 years now.

And when “He’s a good boy!” beats, threatens, terrorizes,
or vandalises the property of, some timid soul –
the response is invariably the same: “My kid would never do that!”

“He’s been under stress.”
“He’s on medication.”
“His father left us when he was a baby.”

Children have come out of the brutality of Nazi concentration camps
and Never in their lives, behaved with the vicious barbarism
that is routinely displayed by punks today.

Remove the spectacles of obscene Vanity
and take a look at the facts:

Your punk is a sadist or savage –
And you raised him to be one.

Of course, you see nothing wrong, do you?
Your offspring have your vicious nature – you nurtured them.
They are what you are.
And nothing is more important than you and yours.

In being horribly forced into our own situation of harassment
from local punks who delight to ‘rev’ engines, ‘lay’ on horns,
or squeal tyres as they slow down to pass our front gate,
I know ‘first-hand’ that – in society as a whole –

– it is not the “partying” yobs who are held responsible,

but the “miserable”, “anti-social”, “old man”
who wants only to live in peace and quiet
within the confines of his own home – and so has
“brought it on himself”.

Yes indeed – trawl the Internet comments of instances
when a man or woman was pushed … and pushed … and pushed
by on-going harassment to such an extreme that they:

commit suicide, or
kill an aggressor –

and you will invariably find that it is the “selfish”,
“narrow-minded”, “miserable” … Victim …

who is the object of filthy profanity, loathing,
and vulgar invective
in the Internet comments of “civilised” society.

An elderly man in the American state of Minnesota, ‘snaps’
– and murders-by-shooting the entire family of the neighbour
who tormented him, when a boundary survey revealed
that a boat dock of the loud, partying, family man
was actually on the elder man’s land.

Asked to move his dock over, the obnoxious character refused.
No old man was going to tell him what to do.
His arrogance resulted in the murder of his own family.
All he had to do was move the dock;
and let the old man live in peace.
Try telling that to the modern masses.

One documentary page listed (I believe it was) 154 comments:
filled with filthy, malignant profanity against the old man
who succumbed to the constant torment –
and committed multiple murder of the family.

Not one comment made so much as mention
of the torment to which the elder man had been subjected.
The old man shot the bully from behind; and killed children
and wife. No other factors involved … to the Internet hordes.

Scathing, savage contempt that the older man ‘lost all control’ –
but not one word said of how the Bully … Could Have
left the man in peace,
and kept his children off the man’s property.

No thought whatsoever at the accumulative effect of Constant
Harassment from those whose arrogance delights to inflict
misery upon others.

Manchester resident David Askew, 64,
tormented by bullies incessantly for ten years;
frequently heard yelling at teens and children
to ‘leave him in peace’ –
collapsed while confronting neighbourhood teenaged scum
in 2010.

Charge, fingerprint, and photograph the punks,
whether 8, 18, or 80? Fine the parents?
Plaster the photographs of these punks
and their parents on the front page of the newspaper?
Refuse to renew the driving licences
of those connected with thug behaviour?

Of course not.

This is the Age of “Self Esteem”.

The noise of loud, obnoxious ‘party animals’
reveals the contempt they have for others;

These creatures are considered “normal”,
while their victims are roundly denounced
should they dare to do anything but endure the abuse.

“You’re over-reacting.”

“Just ignore it and maybe it will go away.”

“Oh, you CAN’T let them see that it annoys you”
came the facile and dismissive advice from one well-to-do local man
who owns the elevated patch of ground that is the hangout for
beer-tin-and-litter-dumping louts and (shall we say)
‘place-for-vehicles-to-meet, do-something-and-drive-away’.

Those who treat people with consideration,
and want only to live in peace — are at fault:

the responsibility is on THEM –

THEY are the ones who are expected to change:
to alter their courteous and peaceful behaviour …
THEY re the ones who are expected to accommodate
the crude, the rude, the thugs and louts in local society.

It is Perverse.

It is now … “Normal”.

Ignore the local punks who use the roads and footpaths
to torment and harass you and your daughter
as they walk past your house, Fiona Pilkington was told.

THIS – this – is the mentality of police and public; at least,
in our situation. I suspect, however, that we are not alone
in receiving this kind of dismissive response.

No discipline in the “home”,
No discipline in the school,
No discipline as “adults”.

No consequence for the malicious actions
of children, teens, or any other obnoxious lout in a community.

A 63-year old man in Manchester complains to the punk next door
about the noise of the latter’s stereo …

… whereupon the 31-year old creature jumps the small
partition wall, beheads the old man;
and throws the head in the man’s rubbish bin.

The savage is declared to be suffering from ‘mental illness’”
and sent off for … “counselling”.

“He Should Have called the police” is the usual
proclamation of massed Internet comments.

They do.

But the police …. “do not have the resources” …
… to respond to every call of contemptible behaviour
from malignant or bullying neighbours.

No. Of course they don’t.
Of course they don’t.

They are too busy looking through ‘spotting scopes’
at entrance ramps to highways while conducting
Seat Belt Checks
and writing up tickets for traffic infractions.

We had written to City Hall not long after arriving here.
No reply. We went to the police office in person,
to beg help or advice. We were given no audience with anyone.
Nor received so much as a telephone call – much less visit,
in response to our pleas for help.

If you are an obnoxious thug, in the 21st century,
you can do what you want – (as long as you wear a seatbelt)
and get away with it.

If you are subjected to the harassment of these creatures
and look for help in the community – well,
prepare for a dose of shocking Reality.

One consistent piece of advice that I noted dispensed by Internet
armchair experts is — “Document the activity”, “Set up Video cameras”,
“Record everything”. Oh ?

Adequate surveillance cameras begin at about $/£ 500.

And why should ANY peacefully living human being HAVE
to pay out that money – to ‘document’ the activity of thugs,
that could be easily prevented by neighbours
getting off their lazy backsides, and telephoning police
– en masse – to complain, and demand something be done ?

The simple answer ?
People are too utterly selfish, lazy, and apathetic
to get up from their Altar of Stupidity – the TV – to do anything
so remotely morally decent as banding together to stop
vandalism, loitering, noise, drug-dealing … or even littering.

Three-, Five- a dozen households all standing staring at loitering punks ?
Three-, Five-, a dozen telephone calls to police within 5 minutes ?

The Moral Centre is gone from modern humanity.
Consideration for other people Does Not Exist in society at large.

The Quiet, the Timid, the Peaceful … are prey.
And people are content to have it that way.

But what about that bit of ‘advice’ about “documenting” ?

Let me assure you of one thing:
Be seen with a camera … “documenting” …
And you ARE The Neighbourhood Kook.

You will be regarded as someone who is
‘obsessing about nothing’
by people who could not be bothered to care.

“Tell people, for safety” is the other piece
of highly broadcast “advice”.
Well we have – and are now ignored completely
by the few locals to whom it was mentioned.

I have mentioned our situation to a supposed ‘friend’
via this site, by email. No ‘I am sorry to hear that’ – Nothing.

I have mentioned it – an article appears – on this Internet site
in the hopes that it may prevent some other sadly ignorant
person – such as I was, from spending their savings
to move to the countryside (or the other side of the world),
only to receive the same debilitating shock of disbelief.

Not one word of commiseration or encouragement was received
from anyone who has read it. People do not want to know.

“Suicide is the ultimate act of selfishness”

has been the mantra of dismissive multitudes
for the past 25 years.

To maintain that those who suffer
from such emotional or mental fear and abuse,
that they cannot even find the strength
to endure for one more day –

to call such people … “selfish”

is, for me, the “Ultimate Act of Selfishness”

that reveals just how callous and cruel
human beings have become; bereft of any ability
to genuinely feel the suffering of a tormented creature
– man or animal.

“That woman murdered her own daughter !!!!”
scream the collective hordes. “She was Crazy !!!”.

Yes …

Yes … perhaps, she was.

And what made her that way?

What was the Cause of her doing something so horrific
… that that woman actually could have believed
that she did it as an act of kindness – of protection –
to her disabled daughter ?

What is the Outrage here ?

The outrage is that a mother’s wretchedly misguided
sense of kindness to her disabled daughter,
was to end her life — rather than leave her
to the “mercy” of modern society.

The outrage is that multitudes of humanity
now blame the (real) victim(s), but are incapable
of seeing the cause that placed them there.

The outrage is that the filthy, sadistic demoniacs
that tormented that family,
are undoubtedly walking the streets,
‘partying’, and gratifying their own vanity
– today,

While the child-like mind and soul
of a mentally disabled girl is taken from this world.

Oh! Too harsh, by far, Mr Livingstone !
What a nasty man you are, making such pronouncements
upon poor youths !

Yes, that’s right: I am disgusted that predators
are allowed to wander unchallenged in modern society:
inflicting mental and emotional anguish on quiet,
peaceful, or moral people …

whom the authorities will not lift one bureaucratic finger to help
in case they, or The City, gets sued
for damaging some vicious thug’s Self Esteem.

While the Internet ‘evidence’ is that the bulk of humanity
heaps scathing invective upon those who are
drawn to acts of desperation;
while ignoring or excusing the depravity
of those who sent them there.

The community in which my wife and I have lived now for 7 years
is a wonderful community, don’t you know ?
Yes, indeed: the greatest pressing concern at the moment
is whether a brick footpath at the town’s skateboard park
will be finished for the Canada Day ‘celebrations’ on the 1st of July.

The last time (several years ago) that my wife and I
drove through the town centre (comprising one main street)
– at eight o’clock on a Saturday night, having travelled
the one-and-a-half hour journey from Vancouver Airport –

at the area where the petrol station faces a bank,
the stench of Marijuana in the Open Air made us both feel
that we were going to be sick.

And the greatest concern here, is the completion
of a winding brick footpath for ‘party time’.

Fiona Pilkington dared to complain.
And being ignored or glibly dismissed,
resorted to the only end to her torment
that she could find.

Mentioning the reality of life in their community
to anyone who asks, only results in isolation.

DARE to interrupt the Perpetual Party haze
of 21st century complacency and apathy,
and you absolutely WILL be regarded as The Town Kook,
a ‘weirdo’, or ‘busybody’.

There is just no place in modern society
for someone who is … “no fun”.

How to succeed and be popular in the modern world ?

Be Crude. Be Loud. Be Vulgar.
And when you talk, talk only of TV, techno-toys, or Vanity possessions.
Anything ‘deeper’ … is Weird.

Oh, and “sports” – grown men chasing a ball around a field;
or profanity-strewing thugs brawling in a ‘ring’ – are acceptable
to the testosterone strutting of what truly can best be termed
“males”, rather than “men”.

Degrade anyone – or anything – that represents “old fashioned”
morality, self-discipline, or moderation – especially if it is
a timid man or woman who sees death as the only means of ‘relief’
from the creatures that now inhabit society in the modern world.

Trivialised as “anti social behaviour”, this is sadism and harassment
and it is quite acceptable, clearly, in the modern world:
after all, it has the heartfelt approval … of Apathy.

Francecca Pilkington, 18, had the mind of a child.
She loved jumping in puddles; and going on the swings.
She also thought she was pretty good at giving massages.

She is dead.
And the sadistic youths who tormented her mother,
are now, no doubt, “parents” today.

The citizens of 21st century society tolerate
the contempt of litter, vandalism, drunkenness,
obscenities, obnoxious louts in shopping areas;
and manifold malignant evil – and say nothing;

but heaven help the peaceful man, woman,
or “miserable old fool”
who wants to live quietly in their own home.

The atrocity of 2017 is that Loud, and Rude, and Crude
– “party animals” spewing filthy obscenities –

is … Normal.

And anyone who is peaceful, espouses moral decency,
or calls for self disciplined courtesy and consideration
is a Narrow-minded Bigot

whose unreasonable expectations and “complaining”

only ‘makes trouble’ for themselves.

P Livingstone

Punks, Police, and Modern Countryside Life

“By eleven o’clock the next day
we were well upon our way to the old English capital.

Holmes had been buried in the morning papers all the way down,
but after we had passed the Hampshire border
he threw them down and began to admire the scenery.

It was an ideal spring day, a light blue sky, flecked with little fleecy white clouds
drifting across from west to east.

The sun was shining very brightly, and yet there was an exhilarating nip in the air,
which set an edge to a man’s energy.

All over the countryside, away to the rolling hills around Aldershot,
the little red and grey roofs of the farm-steadings
peeped out from amid the light green of the new foliage.

“Are they not fresh and beautiful?” I cried with all the enthusiasm of a man
fresh from the fogs of Baker Street.

But Holmes shook his head gravely.
“Do you know, Watson,” said he, “… I look at them,
and the only thought which comes to me is a feeling of their isolation
and of the impunity with which crime may be committed there.”

[ Doyle, The Copper Beeches ]

Moving to the Countryside ? Pause, and look at local newspapers First.

It is chilling to understand that almost everything that one was led to believe as a child
… now, no longer applies. The nationalist lies regarding history – how “Great” countries
became ‘great’, for instance, is one of those.

The second, is the notion that an organization of morally upright, responsible,
government officials known as “Police”, exist to keep peaceful people safe
from malignant predators and vicious thugs.

British Columbia, Western Canada, an area known as ‘The Fraser Valley’ …

In July of 2009, my wife and I moved in to our new house located in a village
known as ‘Yarrow’. We had not been three days in the house when,
on the first Friday night, I found myself getting out of bed at 11:00pm
due to the outrageous noise of (obviously) spinning tires; and seeing plumes of smoke wafting out of the darkness.

Rushing outside, I ended up positioning myself in front of two vehicles on the Road immediately in front of our house – as they were ‘setting up’ for a “drag race”.

One car reversed in a three-point turn and sped off; the second drove along the far shoulder and disappeared. One youth was left standing alone in the middle of the road.

As I turned my attention to him to ask what kind of brazen arrogance it takes to do that in front of someone’s home, the creature started to run towards the railway tracks, taking the route of the car that had just abandoned him.

I wrote a formal letter to City Hall asking if it would be possible for them to install
a speed bump on the road as – there being no police office in the town, the local delinquents obviously imagined that they had free run to use the long stretch of road for whatever
entertainment they wished.

I did not receive so much as the courtesy of a reply.

Our neighbour – (because I asked him, with a touch of exasperation at seeing the lights in their house on, while I stood utterly alone that night in the midst of that chaos of noise and smoke) … stated that he had “heard nothing”. “WE have double glazing”, he said.

Really?

So do we.

What we DID receive – a few weeks (?) later, as I was weeding (and, accordingly,
on hands and knees below the level of a row of hedging) the front of our property
to begin making a garden – was the slow crawl-past of a white “SUV” with police markings.

Relieved that, perhaps, something was being done about this free-for-all area in which we found ourselves, I began to stand to my feet imagining that the police car would pull in to the gate area.

Something though, made me stop, and just watch.

The SUV crawled right past our property, went to the railway tracks; turned,
and crawled past again.

A map of our rural area: Our house and land is situated in centre; the mailboxes appear as a small white roadside dot opposite a shed in the neighbouring Buddhist blueberry farm; the railway tracks visible in and out of the shadows of the trees at the bottom of the picture.

Because our house and property is below the level of the road,
when looking at passing car windows, all I see (from the inevitable slight curvature) is the reflection of the sky behind me – so I could not see who was driving the police car.

I simply watched as the car passed the end of our property and increased speed
while driving away.

Still engaged in the extensive project of building the front garden with shovel and wheelbarrow, I was again in the front garden a week later, when I noticed a ‘regular’ police car approaching down the road.

Again, anticipating that (surely?) they were coming to offer a word or two of reassurance, I watched as they came closer, and then began to stand in anticipation of meeting them.

At the rural mailboxes across from our neighbour’s blueberry field, the police car started the flashing lights … then the siren … and then (with a bit of a screech) they sped – fully accelerating – past the front of our house.

from our gate: the view to the post boxes (left in grass verge)

I craned my head around one of the cedar trees in the hedge and could not believe
what I was seeing: The siren went off … the lights were turned off … and car slowed down, went over the railway tracks, and cruised slowly up the hill.

from our gate: view to the railway tracks and curve uphill

I could not credit it … and refused to fully believe that this had been
some sort of infantile “display” of … control.

In a situation that [ honestly! ] I would never have the audacity to make up …
about a week (10 days?) later, a regular, marked police car approached our house.
Just at the mailboxes – once again, the flashing lights were suddenly turned on
… the siren began, and the car sped past our house. At the railway tracks,
the siren was turned off, lights were extinguished, and the car drove slowly up the hill.

Message Received.

Do NOT write a letter to City Hall and mention that there is
some part of town that the police do not have ‘under control’.
‘WE are here … WE are in control … do not make us ‘look bad’.’

I can think of NO other explanation for the bizarre, disturbing (this is the mentality of those who carry guns and can take people captive), theatrics that I had witnessed on those occasions.

It seems, we have found out from experience, that – in the 21st century – anyone who is vigilant, a victim, or expects to be able to live in peace, is now regarded as ‘looking for trouble’, a hypochondriac, or someone who should be content to cower in terror.

A man is brutally beaten to death while jogging in a park: “Oh well”, seems the all-too ready response: “He should not have been there after dark.”

Every excuse under the sun defends the vicious; whilst the peaceful are admonished for the ‘stupidity’ of believing that they might reasonably live in peace.

On the “walking trail” on Vedder Mountain (which runs the length of the rear of our property), we would see, from about 10:00 o’clock at night (from the windows of our home), headlights of cars driving from the far end, along the … Walking Trail …
until it met a second set of headlights, just off-centre behind our house.

As it seemed fair to presume, we speculated that this was the new drug-deal area
for sales to locals. Pulling on a jacket, and taking a torch,
I walked up to the end of the trail and waited.

Sure enough, a car came reversing out of the walking trail right to where I was standing.  I can only presume that the occupants saw me, since – after one more repeat performance (by the headlights, and by me) the ‘meeting headlights’ stopped altogether.

Presumably, they would find somewhere else to conduct their disreputable ‘business’.

The appalling display I had witnessed during our first few months
in this part of the world made it self-evident (to us)
that there was NO Point whatsoever in calling the police.

Since then, we have – on a continual basis – been the object of slow drive-by’s
from “boom cars” who increase their volume until they pass our property
(and then lower it);

Squealing tires and ‘burning rubber’ on the road immediately in front of our house;

and our front gate area is not infrequently the receptacle
for fried lard wrappers from ‘McDonalds’,
debris from a Canadian trash ‘food’ pit known as Tim Hortons;
beer tins, beer bottles, and even urine from those who have evidently
stopped during the night.


Subsequently searching for any information on this rural Tombstone into which
we had so ignorantly moved, I was deeply disheartened to have noticed an article
on the ‘online’ edition of the “Chilliwack Progress” newspaper of 7 March, 2013.
The headline read:

“Residents want improved security on Vedder Mountain”
( the mountain behind us that I mentioned above ). Beneath a photograph of a woman, there appeared the text “Vedder Mountain landowner K—- H—- feels bullied by people who trespass on her property … She holds the many complaint letters she has submitted to authorities over the years.”

Over the YEARS ???

So … it is NOT just us.

Nothing was done to help us; nothing was done for (at least) one other local family.

[ I did check – and yes, we were indeed paying taxes for … “police services”. ]
Other than radar traps on the surrounding country roads (tremendous presence there!), or conducting “seat belt checks”, I cannot think what those “services” would be.

It is certainly not for prevention of harassment from local thugs, punks,
and delinquents in automobiles.

Even with this as ‘standard’ fare, it was this year, in 2016,
that incidents severely escalated as we were regular recipients
of large pickup trucks squealing tires so furiously that the wall of smoke pouring over and into our house was actually opaque.

One Friday evening, our neighbour was driving up the road in his City truck,
IMMEDIATELY behind two large pickups … and was behind them when they began to ‘burn’ their tires in front of our house.

On this occasion, I ran out with my wife’s little ‘work camera’
and caught a blurry image of the second ‘screeching’ truck.
Our neighbour – now turning in to his driveway – shouted across:

“Do you want me to phone the police?”

“Yes!” I yelled ( knowing that I NOW had a witness who could not claim to have “heard nothing” as he had done at every other occasion for the past 5 years ).

The police had been clearly ignoring me in the past; but now, another person – (and he, a City employee/supervisor) – would be able to give testimony to the situation here in The Wild West.

The trucks having now vanished, and a third having done a “180” and turned away back down the road, I walked over to our neighbour. “Are they on the way?” I asked.

“Oh” he replied, “I didn’t call them. You can email them.”

I did not even speak – – – just turned, and walked away.

The following morning, my wife and I drove to the RCMP office
and went inside with the blurred photograph from the night before;
three photographs showing the multiple ‘burn’ marks on the road
(with our house clearly pictured adjacent); and a typed summary
of what is noted above.

A brusque woman behind the glass could not conceal her lack of interest as she demanded in a demeaning look and tone: “What makes you think You are being targeted?”

I mentioned the drag racing, the headlights, and the fact that this has been going on for 5 years ( ‘during which time I dared not bother you’, I kept to myself ).

“Corporal D—— gets on at six tonight.” She photocopied my driving licence,
refused to take the printed photographs offered, and made it clear
that the conversation was over.

We would not receive so much as the courtesy ( never mind professionalism )
of a telephone call or personal visit of interest from the police.

Perhaps, assertions heard over the years are true; and ‘Standard Police Procedure’
truly does mean ‘the path of least effort’.

What we DID receive … was a letter: typed and signed in ink
– to say that my wife had been caught ( by the citizens-playing-police squad )
driving at 21km over the city speed limit, on a country road.

One obnoxious portion advised us to kindly familiarize ourselves
with the Motor Vehicle Code if we intended to drive in the streets
of this area.

That was important enough to receive police action, but – intentional harassment
and specific mischief targeted to our home … well they are, clearly, Too Busy for That.

The realisation gives one pause for thought.

It is a very uncomfortable feeling to realise that one lives in the countryside,
where the best that can be expected – if lying, dying in a ditch,
is to spend the last ten minutes of life listening to the distant sounds of police sirens – and not even be sure if they are even coming to help you.

To say that I wish we had never come here, would not be strictly true, as we left the Scottish Borders to come here for me to be with my Dad following his heart attack and several strokes: thinking that he was inevitably approaching the close of his life …

but, honestly, while I AM truly glad to be here for my Dad …
I wish that we had never come here.

That newspaper article was dated “2013” – four years too late
to have warned us. Had we had it to read in 2009,
we would never have bought the house here.

When I was a little boy, my gentle – and gentlemanly – grandpa
told me to “Never trust a copper, son.”
I have more than had the truth behind that advice asserted
throughout my life; but never more so than now.

If this account of our on-going, 6-year struggle with rural thugs
will serve as an awakening – if not warning – to someone
who may be considering relocating to a rural locale,
then some good can come out of this.

Scan back-issues of the local newspaper, and discern accordingly.

Like us, you may just find yourself, quite literally,
on your own.

P Livingstone