This has probably been covered to death, but here goes…
Take a moment to read this fucking horror story before you continue further…
How fucked up is that? How absolutely heartbreaking? My heart goes out to that family. Can you imagine finding your thirteen year old daughter dead by her own hand, and then discovering what motivated her suicide was some nasty shit someone wrote about her on the internet? And then, as if that’s not tragic enough, you find out that a pair of fucking adults were behind it all?
Look, I’ve taken my fair share of hits in cyberspace; and while some have stung, most can be laughed off as desperate attempts at attention-grabbing. But this poor little thirteen year old girl with the weight issue and the ADH? She didn’t have a chance. She never learned to simply turn the computer off. Poor sumbitch was an unwitting pawn in a sinister game of chess so cold and calculated, the players makes Kevin Spacey’s Keyser Soze look like Kevin Spacey’s K-Pax…
She was up against Parents With Too Much Free Time.
I’ve always been leery of Moms and Dads who are way too into their children’s battles. Yes, every parent should take an interest in what’s going on in the kids’ social lives during the formative years; but the parents (and I’m not a sexist, but let’s be honest: it’s usually the Moms) who go beyond simple interest and into campaign manager mode are fucking psychotic. They’re the Wanda Holloway-types, as portrayed so perfectly by Holly Hunter in Michael Ritchie’s entertaining “The Positively True Adventures of the Alleged Texas Cheerleader-Murdering Mom.” They live their lives through their kids and fixate on perceived injustices to unhealthy, even sociopathic degrees.
I’ve known some of these broads, man, and to describe them as creepy is an understatement. A long time ago (we’re talking 1989) I was dating this girl for maybe six or seven months. I was eighteen and she was seventeen, and we spent a lot of time at her house. Her Mom, God love her, was very invested in daughter’s life – the kind of Mother who knows you’re having sex with her kid, but still plays Scrabble and watches TV with you when you’re not fucking. On the plus side, when we went into her daughter’s room and locked the door and turned the lights out, she wouldn’t bother us. The downside? Well there was none… until the break-up.
This woman was more perturbed by the end of my relationship with her daughter than her daughter was. She’d write me long letters insisting we get back together that detailed how alone I’d feel if I didn’t resume the romantic relationship. Indeed, I tried to remain friends with the girl, but her Mom would get in the way. The last time I went to her house, her Mom was returning home from shopping as I was leaving. She urged me to wait a moment as she ran inside. When she emerged, she pushed a small piece of paper in my hand, then folded my fingers into a fist so I couldn’t immediately read it, looked deeply into my eyes and said “If I’m wrong, you find me, and I’ll eat that piece of paper.” When I got to my car, I opened the note. It was dated 10/17/89 and read simply “Kevin Smith will never be a famous writer. He does not have the drive. I do wish him luck!”
I mean, I was eighteen fucking years old. What kind of adult does that to a teenager? Still – I put it in a little frame and sat it on my desk, right beside my typewriter (these writing machines we had before the advent of the personal computer). Many desks have come and gone in my life since then, but the framed note remains. I never sought her out to make her eat it, as I’m sure I find it more delicious than she would.
I sincerely wish Megan had hung on so that she could’ve enjoyed a moment of satisfaction like that years later, or at least had a funny story to tell the real friends she’d come to find as she got older. “One time, when I was thirteen, these psychotic fucks whose daughter I used to hang out with created a fake MySpace profile to fuck with my self esteem. How fucking sick is that? They’re divorced now, I hear.” That kinda thing.
The teenage years can be cruel (especially to a fat kid), and the fact that Megan was depressed to begin with certainly didn’t help, so it’s impossible to say that these parents should be charged with second degree murder. But, for the love of Christ, they should be charged with something, no? Depraved Indifference? Suborning Suicide? If Jack McCoy from “Law & Order” were real, he’d find a charge that’d stick and put these two PWTMFT behind bars (because Jack McCoy would eat a baby if thats what Justice asked of him). I really hope that all the attention this case is getting now prompts the Dardenne Prairie D.A. to reconsider charges against the two grown-ups behind “Josh”. At the very least, maybe the Division of Youth and Family Services could call their parenting into question and remove their own kids from that home. Because any parents who set that poor an example aren’t fit to raise kids.
You know who else ain’t fit to raise kids?
(Get ready for the ham-fisted segue…)
Anyone who doesn’t bid on this shit…
That’s right: View Askew has joined forces with Profiles in History – the movie prop auction house, to dump a bunch of cool shit from our archives, just in time for the holiday. You’ll have to register (also at ebayliveauctions.com), but it’s worth it: even if you’re not into our props, they’ve got awesome shit from real movies (like a T-Rex head from “Jurassic Park”).
Auction starts live on Friday at 2pm EST/11am PST. All the View Askew lots: 1050-1122.
Bid away, bitches!