laserdisc10
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"Rise and fall of flawed hermit Gable Tostee caught in fatal web of sex hook-ups"
Wtfh, I *hate* how this headline makes HIM sound like the victim!!!
The only person who 'fell' was Warriena. The only person caught ina 'fatal' anything was -- Warriena.
I think Gable Tostee has less 'fallen' than lived a long, slow decline from the innocence of his first year alive until he hit the region of 'total' at the age of 28. Whoever wrote that headline needs a good kick in the pants. IMO.
I wasn't going to, but Ausgirl's post basically forced me to log-in to echo my agreement
Personally, I'm sick to the back teeth with all the LABELS ! I'm tired of the BS !
Every single person on this planet could be described as falling into some 'syndrome' or other. EVERY one
It's some sort of craze, trend. He's a 'this'. She's a 'mild that'. Someone else is a combination of 'this' alphabet label and 'that' alphabet 'label'. And doesn't it make the labelled seem speshul !
It's not poor parenting or lack of discipline or lower than average IQ or tendency to manifest his father or grandmother's bad temper and emotional immaturity -- oh no -- it's a 'syndrome' or a 'condition', blabla
All zebras are striped but all those stripes are slightly different. Do we have a psychiatric manual labelling every zebra based on their marginally different stripes? No, of course we don't. Not yet at least. Because there's no money for the psychiatric lobby in creating syndromes re: zebra stripes
Humans on the other hand jump gleefully at the opportunity to ascribe various conditions and syndromes etc. to themselves and their offspring. It pours billions into the coffers of pharmaceutical companies and keeps the mental-health crowd in work. So no longer is someone a useless waste of time who steals from his grandma, takes drugs and claims no job suits his tastes -- oh no -- suddenly the useless waste of space is provided a get-out-of-jail-free card by the mumbo-jumbo crew and their pills and potions and therapies and bag of excuses
A woman who was once my close friend didn't have too many visible issues other than the fact her lips used to swell up when she was annoyed, didn't get her own way and was generally 'upset'. We all knew to tread on eggshells or vacate the premises when we saw those lips puffing up
But then she had a second child and it was not the girl she'd expected and prepared for. Instead, it was a healthy little boy. And he didn't fit the pink and white nursery she'd forced her husband to prepare, nor could he wear all those pretty baby-girl outfits she'd been buying in expectation of a girl
So what did she do? She refused to touch him. Refused to accept she'd had another boy. Doctors and nurses were concerned. Her husband asked us to talk to her, talk some sense into her. And it seemed she got over herself and took the new baby home. Except when I visited her very early one morning because our husbands had gone to golf at the crack of dawn, it was to discover the older boy dressed appropriately and apple of his mother's eye. The second, newest son however was stuck in a potty chair wearing only a nightdress. His little feet were purple with cold. He had snot running down his face and it was old, witnessed by the fact some of it had crusted
There was that poor little boy, neglected, being punished basically, for not being a girl. Yet he wore a great big smile when I entered the room. He didn't complain about the cold and hunger and neglect. He was a little winner, that kid
Fast forward 17 years, during which we'd moved and got in touch only via Christmas cards. My puffy lipped friend and her eldest son dropped in. They were planning to buy up our way, planning to semi-retire. And their golden-child, the accepted eldest son was part of their plans, he and his personalised number-plated car and attitude
What about the youngest boy, I asked? Oh, he was being discarded. He wasn't allowed to move with them. They were 'sick' of him, apparently. He was being left behind to fend for himself. And thank goodness, they said, that they no longer blamed themselves for the way he was. Joy of joys, he'd been diagnosed as ADHD, which at the time was the hot trend. Got a problem? You probably have ADHD. Got a child who's experiencing some minor or majoy ups and downs in life? Not your fault, Mum and Dad. He's ADHD -- that magical letter-group which absolves parents of any responsibility and sticks a label on the kid which he can now use as excuse for virtually anything just as long as he continues to munch down the latest potions
I wondered what the hell had been wrong with me all those years ago to explain my lack of judgement re: my fat-lipped friend? What a loser she was. Why hadn't I seen it and saved a lot of time and energy? Who knows, hey -- maybe some syndrome or condition or alphabet-trend clouded my judgement? Maybe there's a pill for it
And the same goes for Tostee, imo. Quit the excuses. We can all find excuses and drag out some invented 'syndrome' for ourselves and our loved ones to explain away our own and their less than optimum behaviours
Hang on a tic. Maybe we should? Maybe we should ALL grab ourselves one of those alphabet 'disorders' ?
Maybe we should grab two or three !
If we ALL lay claim to various 'disorders', 'syndromes' and 'conditions' ----- it will be game over. No fun in being just one of the herd. Those laying claim to psychiatry's inventions will move on. Their breathtaking news about their child's 'disorder' won't cause anyone to bat an eyelid -- won't gain attention any longer -- will be as common as sliced bread
So enough, media. Quit the excuses for Tostee. And quit trying to drum up business for the mental-health crowd, using Tostee as advertisement for how to excuse yourself for your vile offspring via alphabet 'conditions' which supposedly absolve parents of responsibility
Tostee was charged with murder. He had no right to murder anyone. He's alive, Warriena is dead. Tostee has to pay. End of