Can We Make Sense Of The Senseless?

Written by John Colanzi

I've been trying to make sense of what would appear to be a senseless attack on America by crazed, religious zealots.

Afterrepparttar initial numbness wore off and after spending many sleepless nights trying to find a rhyme or reason for what happened, I've come to some disturbing conclusions.

They are not crazy.

It's far too easy to dismiss these terrorists as crazy. They aren't crazy. They are cold, calculating and they know what they are doing and why.

Their goal is not just to eliminate and desimate America, they are sending a message torepparttar 132684 world of their hate for:

<> Democracy

<> Individualism

<> Freedom Of Religion

<> Freedom Of Speech and Thought

<> Capitalism

We wererepparttar 132685 "Great Experiment" that started as nothing more than thoughts inrepparttar 132686 minds of a handful of rugged individualists.

We removedrepparttar 132687 barriers ofrepparttar 132688 class system. We eliminatedrepparttar 132689 concept ofrepparttar 132690 individual as a servant torepparttar 132691 state.

I can sit and write this without fear of having my door kicked in. I don't worry that troops will drag me out of my. house for exercising free speech.

I haverepparttar 132692 freedom to practice any religion or no religion. The choice is mine, notrepparttar 132693 states.

My grandfather ran away from home at 16 years old and was able to come to this country alone and without evenrepparttar 132694 ability to speak our language.

This is my Story

Written by Karen J

This is My Story

(And I have to stick to it, I don’t want to, but that isrepparttar way it is)

I am currently in Recovery from Drug Addiction. I have been clean now for nearly eight years. I relapsed on my drug of choice-cocaine-when my mother died in 1993; a year after my son was born. Before that, I was literally rescued from years of heinous sexual and physical abuse, forced prostitution and drugs, by being arrested and sent to prison in 1990.

Atrepparttar 132683 age of 11, a “family friend” began brutally sodomizing my 9 year old brother. I have always been very intelligent, reading medical encyclopedias, journals, ECT. So, even at that young age, I knew that my body could handle what this sick pedophile was doing to my younger brother, more than his body could. He only got a hold of my brother three times and then I made him notice me. Some times I hated myself for wishing he would go hurt some other family’s kids. Why us? This abuse lasted for several months. He raped and sodomized me with his penis and a Ban roll-on deodorant bottle. He forced my brother and I to perform oral sex on each other in front of him and he also brutally raped and sodomized his nieces, nephews and children.

I joined a local Police Explores post a year later because I wanted to help people. When I turned torepparttar 132684 Assistant Leader ofrepparttar 132685 troop, a patrolman withrepparttar 132686 local police department, I told him everything that had happened to me. He offered me mixed drinks, took me to his house, seduced me and performed oral sex on me. I didn’t mind since it didn’t hurt-he did bring me great pleasure and that made it “okay”. The man that had hurt my brother and I was not prosecuted and I was “turned out” for child pornography and prostitution torepparttar 132687 cops in that little, North Florida, “Good ole boy” town. For years I had to watch pornography to learn how to please these “local heroes”. I was pleasuring men who had daughters older than me. But, I figured that since they weren’t hurting me likerepparttar 132688 guy that hurt my brother and they were training me to be a cop, it was okay. This is when I started smoking marijuana and snorting cocaine and drinking heavily.

I never experienced any real dating. I didn’t have a prom. I dropped out of Junior High School atrepparttar 132689 age of 15, got my GED and went to Junior College on financial aid. I was a “functional addict”, until I got my first real boyfriend. He was three month younger than I was, in college early like me and he was Cute. To make a long story bearable- I had to “service” his brother, his cousin, his father, at this guy own whim. He started beating me brutally and I went torepparttar 132690 police (before there were any domestic violence laws) they would force me to have sex and deliver me back to my boyfriend. Then I would be beaten again.

After dropping out of college, one evening I was working as a cashier. I came to our little trailer that his parents had bought for him and settled down onrepparttar 132691 couch. I wanted to smoke a joint, take a hot bath, eat dinner and go to sleep. This guy and his brother are doing something I had never seen before-smoking some stuff that stank. The guy tries to plead and wheedle me into smoking “crack”. I had remembered about an up coming basketball player named Len Bias, whose heart exploded from that stuff during a practice, I didn’t want it, no part of it. I was scared. Inrepparttar 132692 first time in our relationship, he beat me with a wire hanger (a pimp stick, as he called it) and I still refused. He skippedrepparttar 132693 other tortures and put a pistol to my temple and said, “Smoke or die Bitch!” I smoked and I was hooked. He prostituted me and gave me just enough o keep me hooked and around. He forced me to steal and forge checks, alter money orders, or facerepparttar 132694 alternative of being brutally sodomized by him. Wee my choice was pretty clear. I was convinced that this lunatic would also carry out a threat of killing my elderly parents if I left him. And for four long years I suffered abuses that no human or animal should ever have to endure.

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