Annie... I know! Robed.bishops comment about fleas! he's certainly a strange one, and he definately came looking for an argument.

A rabbit silhouette is *exactly* what I thought it was when I first saw it. Oddly, it looked different on my Mac; on my (Windows) laptop, it seems to have diagonal stripes.

<VBD> agreed!

<Annie> and you join the fine tradition of greats who have refused awards, including <Julius Caesar>, <Marlon Brando>, and, if memory serves, <Spongebob Squarepants>.

I had indeed read the novel because they forced us to read it. I remember crying, and the short story version carries all that pathos.

Actually why didn't they force us to read the short story instead? I could have used the extra time for smoking in the girl's washroom, for example.

I've just read the short story, and I'm wondering which aspect you think applies to <AJ's?> experience at Cg.com? Or in life in general?

If I had to guess I'd say maybe the terrible solitude inside of Charlie:

<"I keep telling myself I'm the only person in the world who can describe what's happening to me.">

I'm not sure this is on topic but I can report that in email conversation, and sometimes in public posting as well, it is entirely possible to elicit a rational and even friendly response from <AJ>. It's a fallacy that the only way to relate to him is either sycophancy or hurling vile insults at him.

There's even a recent example over in <pgp> forum. As I've already said once today, I'm not a theologian, but <AJ> seems to be having a good time over there discussing some of the finer points of literal Biblical Christianity. When cautioned about manners (not theology) by the amiable host, <AJ's> response was appropriate and friendly.

The problem, as <hms123> pointed out, is that <AJ> is very quick to lash out if he *perceives* an insult.

I have a suspicion that in his early days he was regularly insulted, and probably viciously, and I suspect even darker things happened to him.

At any rate, I can tell you he is at least 10 times more reasonable in private email conversation than in public.

I suppose you could say the same about me as well.

Well enough blathering- sorry <AJ> if you read this and it sounds like I'm speaking about you as if you were a "case study."

You aren't.

For today, I will leave finding the parallels up as an exercise to the reader. :)

<Poets do not go mad; but chess-players do. Mathematicians go mad, and cashiers; but creative artists very seldom. I am not, as will be seen, in any sense attacking logic: I only say that this danger does lie in logic, not in imagination. --- G. K. Chesterton>

Off the cuff, I'd say this might be because imagination, while it can keep one's mind occupied and entertained, carries far less conviction than logic, and its pursuits are therefore less consequential.

OK. Some pointers on the homework assignment... ;)

1. Observe how most people treated Charlie. Sadly, this is a very realistic depiction of the way the mentally handicapped attract cruelty from people.

2. Notice how Charlie, as he became intelligent enough to understand that his "friends" were actually mostly people having fun at his expense, grew angrier and angrier.

Now, although AJ may be no better off than Charlie in the emotional/social comprehension department, he is indeed considerably better off mentally - not so much better off that he doesn't get much the same treatment, sadly, but "better off" enough that he has understood it to be cruel and hurtful all along. All his life. Is it any wonder that he is full of hurt and anger? Can you blame him? Well, I can't.

The sense of solitude is a good observation on your part (this actually comes over much more strongly in the short story), and there is also a frankly touching, shy desire in him to find friends - we have seen that side now and then.

My pick of the most powerful scene in the story would be this reflection by the now-genius Charlie:

<May 20

I would not have noticed the new dishwasher, a boy of about sixteen, at the corner diner where I take my evening meals if not for the incident of the broken dishes.

They crashed to the floor, shattering and sending bits of white china under the tables. The boy stood there, dazed and frightened, holding the empty tray in his hand. The whistles and catcalls from the customers (the cries of "hey, there go the profits!", "Mazeltov!". . . and "well, he didn't work here very long", which invariably seem to follow the breaking of glass or dishware in a public restaurant) all seemed to confuse him.

When the owner came to see what the excitement was about, the boy cowered as if he expected to be struck and threw up his arms as if to ward off the blow.

"All right! All right, you dope," shouted the owner, "don't just stand there! Get the broom and sweep that mess up. A broom . . . a broom, you idiot! It's in the kitchen. Sweep up all the pieces."

The boy saw that he was not going to be punished. His frightened expression disappeared and he smiled and hummed as he came back with the broom to sweep the floor. A few of the rowdier customers kept up the remarks, amusing themselves at his expense.

"Here, sonny, over here there's a nice piece behind you...." "C'mon, do it again."
"He's not so dumb. It's easier to break'em than to wash'em. . ."

As his vacant eyes moved across the crowd of amused onlookers, he slowly mirrored their smiles and finally broke into an uncertain grin at the joke which he obviously did not understand.

I felt sick inside as I looked at his dull, vacuous smile, the wide, bright eyes of a child, uncertain but eager to please. They were laughing at him because he was mentally retarded. And I had been laughing at him too.

Suddenly, I was furious at myself and all those who were smirking at him. I jumped up and shouted, "Shut up! Leave him alone! It's not his fault he can't understand. He can't help what he is! But for God's sake . . . he's still a human being!"

The room grew silent. I cursed myself for losing control and creating a scene. I tried not to look at the boy as I paid my check and walked out without touching my food. I felt ashamed for both of us.

How strange it is that people of honest feelings and sensibility, who would not take advantage of a man born without arms or legs or eyes -- how such people think nothing of abusing a man born with low intelligence. It infuriated me to think that not too long ago, I, like this boy, had foolishly played the clown.>

One last comment on this subject.

The reaction I usually see, even after clarifying the situation, is typically, "well, yes, we understand the problem, but this is not a mental hospital".

And to this I have to say: then you do NOT understand. This poor man can't help what he is; but he loves chess, it's one of the very few enjoyable things in his life. You want him to lose it, just so you don't have to see him? You want him to just go away, curl up and die, whatever, just so he isn't around you, making you uncomfortable? Put him on ignore, and forget him. Leave him alone.

If you can't just remember that he isn't an accountable adult, "but I don't want to use my ignore list" is a childish, selfish affectation.

And "we're losing members over him"? Eh. Normal people can cope with adversity. They can take care of themselves. I'm concerned for the one who can't.

Very interesting to see the story evolve through his spelling, vocabulary and punctuation,

In general? Of course they don't. In the case of a person just intelligent enough to realize he is being humiliated, but not intelligent enough to be equipped to defend himself? Of course they do.