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The Option of ChoicePlay the GameBy Robert Ringer In his videotaped manifesto, Seung-Hui Cho said, "You forced me into a corner and gave me only one option." Fortunately, when "normal" people like you and me feel "forced into a corner," we don't see violence as our only alternative. We learn early on that it's more pragmatic and a lot less painful to fall in line and play "The Game." Playing The Game is still somewhat painful, but we come to believe (urged on by our elders from a very early age) that it is a much easier path than rebellion. And what of those who refuse to play The Game? Sometimes they make a positive mark on society, though they often end up paying the ultimate price. Mahatma Gandhi, Benazir Bhutto, and Martin Luther King Jr. are three examples that come to mind. But many of those who refuse to play The Game go to the other extreme and have a negative impact on society. In that respect, Timothy Leary comes to mind. His "Turn on, tune in, drop out" mantra in the sixties led millions of disenchanted kids to drugs, a meaningless existence, and, all too often, death. Which brings us to today's real war: certitude versus relativism. If you like stability, the fifties would have been your cup of tea. We nuked the Japanese and flattened Berlin … achieving peace through overwhelming force. It was all very simple. Avoiding civilian casualties wasn't a high priority. Kicking butt was a certitude that everyone understood. It was part of America's generally accepted code of conduct. In the fifties, life was not nearly as complicated as it is today. Guys wore their hair short; girls wore it long. Guys wore trousers (not jeans); girls wore skirts. If you stepped out of line in school, you were sent to the principal's office for a paddling. Kissing your date goodnight was a big deal. And if you were cool, you smoked (just like your parents) and drank (just like your parents). Both of these activities were socially acceptable aspects of The Game. Then some belligerent soul (no way to know for sure who it was) said much like the rebellious servant in Planet of the Apes "No." Up to that point in time, everyone understood that the unspoken answer to any question that challenged our generally accepted way of life was: "That's how The Game is played." End of discussion. But once kids started refusing to play, the floodgates quickly opened. And through those gates came The Beatles, promiscuity, students demanding that colleges treat them like adults, "black power," rampant drug use, and a general in-your-face attitude toward authority. This secular version of the Big Bang brought us into a strange new world that planted the seeds for the rise of future Chos angry kids who resented being relegated to the status of irrelevant pawns in The Game. Prior to this, most people had seen only one option: Keep your mouth shut Now, suddenly, there was a second option: violence. But most of those who would employ it as the ultimate way to rebel against The Game were still years away from being born. Cable television, cellphones, and the Internet would help spread the word that using violence to grab attention and express your inner pain was an attractive alternative to playing The Game and having "your heart vandalized, your soul raped, and your conscience torched." Like suicide bombers, there are hundreds maybe thousands of Chos in the pipeline, and they have the wherewithal to be heard worldwide. They are angry, tormented individuals who realize they no longer have to fall in line and play The Game. Of course, The Game can never be eradicated from the adult world. People are simply too vested in it. But a lot of childhood anger could be dissolved if we could bring The Game under control in our schools. And the starting point for accomplishing that is to examine just how The Game is played ... coming up next. Previous - Part XVII, How to Play the Game Next - Part XIX, The Good and Bad of Certitudes: The Moral Pendulum |