h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Freak is a derogatory word designed to make the user feel superior to the recipient. This quite often stems from secret feelings of inadequacy by the user. But it is just a word. Well, pehaps not *just* a word. In spite of the old chant of "sticks and stones" words can be devastating weapons, as most women know. Not always able to defeat a man physically they can employ such weapons as-Cor! You've got a little one-is that all there is?-is it in yet?-such a small thing to make a fuss about. They should be careful however, as devastating weapons can sometimes destroy the user. Ridicule is a cruel action and should never be used. It is funny how many words ending in 'eak' are sort of, not nice. Freak, sneak, squeak, creak, leak, weak and probably more that I can't think of just now. In conclusion, if someone calls you a freak, at least they are admitting that you are different to themselves, and that can only be a good thing.

I agree with you, but I was called a fat, ugly freak by my 30+ daughter. I can only feel devastated. I think part of my devistation is that I can understand why she said it. However it doesen't take away the feeling of being a mutant mother.

Did you ask to see her tongue, to see if it was sharper than a serpent's tooth? Failing that, you could have quietly held up mirror to her. Of course I do not know what your daughter looks like. She may be a latterday Bo Derek, in which case she would nave just basked in her reflected glory. At least it would have kept her quiet for a while. As an old bloke with a burgeoning belly I can appreciate that we do not always have a lot of say in what our bodies decide to look like. I had a decent body when I was young and feel a bit guilty that I have let it go to rack and ruin, but deterioration kind of sneaks up on one. I hope I do better next time.

My daughter is gorgeous, she is what we call petite, she is mixed race anglo/Indian and is just lovely to look at. I don't think it was just my looks that angered her, she feels that when she was a child I did not keep her and her brothers safe from an abusive father.

You know, I frequently have to feel ashamed of being male. The cruel behaviour of so many men is a sad thing. Of course that is a generality. We tend to notice evil more qickly than we do goodness. Our various media outlets live by the 'good news is no news' perception of life. Then there is the fact that many women, when given the chance, are just as cruel and vicious as any man. I remember when young I was apalled to read of a practice in the middle east called 'the death of a thousand cuts'. Women could never do that! Could they? There is a singer in Oz called Kamahl (a Sri Lankan I think) whose frequently used catch phrase is, "Why are people so cruel?". Tell your daughter (it wont do any good of course) that to live in the past and chew over old hurts is very destructive to the psyche. And it might cause nasty lines on the face. Unfortunately mankind is clay footed and we must be careful of being judgemental. Some wise bloke said "Judge not, lest ye be judged" In modern parlance, careful what you say, it might come back to bite you on the bum!

Last night we watched a programme about the Ku Klux Klan, and I was horrified by the fact that there was a woman's Ku Klux Klan who were just as ugly as their male group.
Many people including my eldest son who probably suffered most at his father's hand has told my daughter to leave her baggage and move on.
He said that someone told him once that although a child can get sympathy when it has been abused, an adult will not, he will be told to just get over it.

My youngest son, turned to crime as he got older, stealing cars and eventually selling drugs. I was not able either physicaly or mentally to control this lovely personality who had gone off the rails and eventually, allowed him to go and live with his father. This was the only child that my exhusband had never raised an hand to, he thought this boy was very special.

My daughter feels that I should not have turned my back on this son, who I have to say was the sunshine of my life, we walked together, swam together even went to drama classes together, we were such good friends until, I allowed my exhusband to come back into our lives thinking if he really meant to stop drinking that things would be different.

To cut a long story short things only got worse, my daughter packed her bags and my son turned to sniffing glue. My eldest son the love of my life refused to come and live with us and stayed in America where we had been living.

My daughter blames me for allowing her father back into our lives, she says that we were doing well, until he came back to England. She is right. She then dropped the bomb shell that he had been sexually inappropriate to her when he was drunk. She tells me she told me about it and it was then that I had left him and returned to England. It is a confusing and chaotic life, and from the ashes she feels I have become a freak.

My attitude now is I cannot undo the past. I am not going to become weighed down with guilt. I have many regrets but what good are regrets?

I am saddened by your story. In my own life I have been surrounded by good people. I have, however, not lived my life with any great success.
A strange failing called paruresis has limited my social life and as a result of it I have avoided all close friendships. It is difficult for the normal person to understand why I can't overcome this stupid failing. It is only in these last few years that I have been able to learn that the condition is more common than I knew. If I had been able when young to access the information that the computer has given me now it is possible that my life would have been vastly different. They say you must play the hand that is dealt to you, but I'm afraid I found it easier to fold. I guess I am just hoping that the next hand I am dealt will have an ace or two. I am not religious, but I have always liked the words-Peace be with you. I sincerely hope that Peace will be with you.

Although I have worked all my life with people in all kinds of areas, young offenders, brain damaged rehabilitation, people with learning difficulties who have challenging behaviours, acute mental illness and the elderly with mental illness. It is the first time I have come across paruresis which you speak off. I have briefly looked it up on the internet, but I would say it is difficult to live with because it is a condition that is rarely spoken of, and I suppose unless the sufferer makes one aware you would never know.

Saying I have not come accross this complaint before however, does make me think back to people I have known, who possibly suffered from this horrible illness but also were unaware that it was an illness to be treated and cured. My heart goes out to you. I have only looked briefly at the explanations on the internet but there does seem quite a bit of information there.

At the moment I am living in the Caribbean, which sounds very nice, but it is very hot at this time of year and the mosquitoes are having a wonderful time enjoying British Meat. There are however a lot of mangos on the trees at this time and I have managed to make some really nice and spicey mango chutney.

I got to work with people with brain damage by applying for the job as cook, I cooked for them for about a year, finally I was invited to become a support worker. It was so satisfying, as many brain damaged people just need time and they can learn to cope with their lives again. Then I worked in a young offenders home. There I met the bad, the sad, and the mad. Finally I became a psychiatric nurse and meet many of my mad and sad and bad youngsters again. I have learned that life can make people all of those things and I have been fortunate enough to work alongside some of them and learn many of lifes lessons.

I too am not religeous, but I believe in the strength of man to overcome adversity with inner strength. Thankfully, we have now got the wonders of the internet to learn about things we normally would not learn about and to meet new friends.

Yeah! I could have done with a bit of inner strength.
My word you have been busy. Must have piled up a good mass of Karma there. I'm not too sure about the Karma thing. There is a school of thought that there is a sort of indifference in Life's examination room. It is not so much what you have done as what you have learned from the doing. So that even the most evil man shall not suffer any come back if he has been humbled by his evilness and willingly lives a good life next time. I'm willing to wait and see.

Yes I have led a busy life but then you don't get a chance to think too much if you are busy.

I don't know about Karma but I have certainly learned a lot. Most of my education came from the people who were the survivors of mental illness, a great many of them were brilliant, bright stars and the reason they had become ill was because the were easily hurt.

I have not met too many evil people. Someone told me once that religouse people are scared of going to hell, but many good people have already been there.

I had written you a reply this morning, full of wit and erudition and words of wisdom, well not really, but you cant disprove it because I was not allowed to post it because I was not a member of h2g2. Since I don't know if I am still not a member, I will see what happens now.

Well it seems I am back, but it is a bit discouraging. I am a lazy man and I don't want to waste my genius penning lines that will never be seen. I wish I could remember what I wrote before but as my mother used to say, if you can't remember it can't have been important. I think it was about all of life being possible by beating odds of millions to one.The one sperm that wins the race to the egg has to beat some ridiculous number of other sperm. And if it had been another sperm would I have been born? Hard to imagine your own non-existence. Well, for all my failings and miseries I am glad to be here. Hoping you are the same, Lew.

Lew, you sound as if you are a well educated man, or at least a man of words. Odds of millions to one aye, well you are quite right and maybe the odds of the lottery don't seem so high, I have already won the lottery of life when my sperm was the winner.

For all my failings and fortunes I too am glad to be here. Infact I would truly hate not to be here in case I missed something important happening and it might be happening to me.

No, I am not a well educated man. In fact I left school when I was fourteen years old. I had the chance for further education but the paruresis thing twisted my thinking so that I could not wait to escape from regimented school life. I have read many books of course, though Not a lot of them could be called literature. Escapist stuff mainly, but even escapism can broaden the outlook.Mind you, I sometimes think that if I had not had this minor handicap I might have been some extroverted, knuckleheaded yahoo. Who knows!
I agree with your reasons for wanting to hang around to see what happens next.I also want to cling to the belief that there is some sort of survival of the self after death, because I want to be able to ask questions afterwards. It is all very well to say the answer is 42, but I want a bit more detail. Of course it is always possible that no one on the next plane of existence has a better answer. I have my own theories of course and Hey! Maybe this is all my personal universe anyway.

I have made the mistake of getting intelligence and education mixed up. I have read a library, I have always been grumbled at for having my head in a book. Like you I read mostly fiction sometimes it's the really bad stuff trash and garbage, but it's easy to read and you can pick it up and put it down with no trouble.

I was drug up in the East End of London. Went to a Secondary Modern until I was 16 left able to read, write and do shorthand typing. Those were the days of shorthand. Good old Mr Pitman.

I don't know about life after death. I know too many religeous hypocrites to want to go to the same place as them which they tell me is heaven. Don't fancy the other place as I don't like the heat, so dunno really. I always say bury me at sea, then I will be recycled.

I don't think anyone KNOWS about life after death except those who have died, and they are not letting on. But we all have our theories or pet beliefs. I think there is some scientific stuff (it might be the conservation of energy thing, I'm showing my lack of education here) that claims that nothing that exists is ever lost. It might change form but the essential ingredients remain. Of course I may be the product of ten billion brain cells, the 'ghost in the machine' so to speak. I do think though that as the driver of this biological robot I have some kind of substance. Do not let me vanish like a snuffed out candle flame, but let me drift off like the smoke from the extinguished candle wick. I would like to drift in some spiritual otherness, swapping experiences with other actors in life's theatre. For a while anyway. Then back in a new role, perhaps with a better script this time.

I am sure your script was fine it's just the plot that could have treated you the hero a little better. Yes, the idea of floating about as an ethereal being is kinda nice.

I have recently read a book 5 People You Meet in Heaven. It is only a small book but it is so thought inspiring. Basically it speaks of the impact different people have on your life and you don't even realize how important their impact was. It's an excellent book if you get the chance to read it please do, I have given it to several people now and they have all loved it. But as usual the last person I gave it to hasn't given it back (I hate that) so I don't remember the author.

I'm pleased to meet someone with a similar memory to mine. I can read a book and minutes after putting it down I have forgotten the contents, title and author. Well, perhaps not always, but often. I see from elsewhere that you have misplaced item problems also. My mother would quite often have to rescue the teapot from the fridge. She did have a marvellous memory for family details however. Since she died, about thirty years ago, I have no way of finding out about the more distant relatives. I even have trouble recalling the number and names of various nieces and nephews. As a cunning ploy I have developed a grumpy old man persona. Nobody expects me to remember names. Perhaps I should practice faking Altzheimers. Or maybe I don't need to??

I love the grumpy old men such as Jack Lemmon and Co. One Foot in the Grave was one of my favourites. Maybe we should have one or two Grumpy old women, I know there are times when I could out do any Victor Meldrew.

I have no idea about my family either I was fostered by a family when I was three months old. My Scots mum promised to return for me but she never did. Many many years later I met her and found out that she had never intended to come back. The family were lumbered with me until I married at 18.

I think you only remember what you want to it is a man thing. Its like selective hearing. Names are not important especially when there are a lot of them, I usually get by calling everyone "gorgeous" or somesuch which is complimentary enough for them never to question why I don't use their name. Much better than "here you, thingy"

Being grumpy is alright if you are also witty. I don't know if I mentioned it but I am somewhat inarticulate face to face. Being clever does not work when you stumble over your words.
I am in a bit of trouble with this electronic idiot machine. I recently fell for another self help program (still trying to get things right) and when they sent me confirmation of the order something went wrong with the email. The 'receiving mail' thingy is on a loop and the same message keeps repeating. I have blocked the message but the 'receiving' sign stays on and I can no longer use my email. So it looks like I will have to take my comp. to the doctor. Being computer ignorant I am a bit worried by what they may poke their nose into. It is a bit like handing over your personal diary, if you happen to have one. It is bad enough that I have to endure having t.v. cameras penetrating all my orifices without someone poking about in my not always admirable thought processes. The bloke from whom I purchased the comp. will do a service and update for $60, but it is like sending your beloved to be handled by a stranger. Will she be returned in pristine condition or will she come back a monster. There might be something else I can try first.