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Escalating the Violence

Escalating the Violence

by Michael Z. Williamson


If we listen to the Million Morons, weapons, not ill will, cause crime. That philosophy, if allowed to spread, will lead to some ironic conversations in the future. This is one such possible chat:

There was a knock on the door. Valerie Smith rose from her desk and answered it. There was a police officer standing there. 

“Ma’am, This is Officer Bloom of the Local City Police. I’m calling about your son, Tim. He’s here in the hospital.”

“Oh, my God!” Valerie Smith blurted in reply. “Is he alright?”

“He’s going to be okay. He got attacked by some bullies. He’s got a concussion and a broken rib, and he’ll need some teeth replaced, but he is alive.”

She made an uncoordinated wave and mumbled, “Come in,” while collapsing toward the couch. “It had to be the Brooks boys.”

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“Yes, Ma’am,” Bloom agreed, sitting across from her. “But it’s going to work out okay. Tim curled up and avoided most of the blows, and yelled for help until someone called 911. We were there within ten minutes,” he said proudly. “And we confiscated the older kid’s brass knuckles, so he won’t be beating anyone again soon. Just another weapon taken off the street.”

“I’m so glad,” Valerie said. Then her face took on an ugly grimace of fear. “Tim didn’t make it worse on himself did he? I forgot! He took his bat to gym class today!”

Bloom shook his head. “No, he did right. That’s a smart young man you have there. He even said so to the paramedics--he knew that a weapon would simply escalate the violence, so as soon as he saw them, he threw it over the fence. A good thing, too. He could have really been hurt if they took it away from him.”

Copyright 2000 by Michael Z. Williamson. Permission granted to copy in toto for non-profit purposes, provided due credit is given. Other writings from Mr. Williamson can be found at