What can the CHILDREN OF ANGER expect of others who are too willing to employ betrayal, collusion, and other sneaky means to perpetuate their treachery and exploitation? What repercussions are to be expected then if the parties involved wanted all to be covered up? What is to be gained if the rumors spread about you or your simpáticos are divulged by irresponsible tongues, and one does not have the means to stand against the abusers? Will the the cruel ever be formally accused and brought to just punishment?
I have had time to think of others who, like me, have been victimized by the drug and alcohol abuse of those around us who continue to persist, even thrive, despite the gravity of their crimes. One such victimized person of an alcohol-abuser (and natural born son-of-a-bitch) was an aunt of mine, my mother's second to youngest sister (she was an affectionate, and compassionate matron who fell into the trap of Pentecostal Christianity, and ultimately became self-righteous in her final years).
Considering that nothing happened after she had died as a consequence of the drunken violence she suffered at the hands of her youngest brother, a brutal, virulently avaricious, nearly insane pedo-philiac and un-accused rapist {the youngest member of the maternal clan, and I wonder if maybe he is my own elder brothers' actual progenitor}, then perhaps the rumor of the suspicious death of my mother's twin will just float about like a ghost, haunting the parties concerned, not to mention us who have gotten wind of the evil tidings.
My uncle, the younger brother, who actually adored his elder sister, my mother's twin, is one fellow I would never want to bump into in a dark alley. My mother's clan has a history of cover-ups, and my uncle has been involved in a number of them, and has always walked away with impunity. Much to my sardonic chagrin, I learned recently that he had managed to screw all of his sisters out of their inheritance; the homes their father had bequeathed to them a few years before he died. And then, after flaunting the unintentional {maybe} murder of his sister in the faces of her children, he sued them, claiming he had rights to the property their mother had left them. If that doesn't prove that he is a shameless, blood-thirsty bastard, then no wonder he has gotten away with so many crimes!
Short, dark, vain, intense, shifty-eyed, lecherous, ruthless, manipulative, confrontational, and down-right naughty, my uncle was the spoiled child of his parents, and he blustered about and bullied everyone to get his way. He embodies the worst faults of the my mother's family, and his personality could be compared to that of Pépe le Pew, if he were a Mexican bandit slowly going mad with syphilis. Furthermore, My uncle is fortunate to live, and indeed has thrived, in Mexico, where male-chauvinist terrorism is still countenanced, despite attempts by the federal government to enforce standing laws against such savage traditions. The latter did not deter him when he unleashed his anger on on his late sister.
A few years ago he'd convinced her and my mother's twin to holiday with him in Acapulco, though he was morose over recent bouts with his wife and problems with his properties. On the last night of their stay, and after he had been drinking heavy quantities of tequila and rum, my younger aunt casually remarked that they had suffered terribly during their growing years at the hands of their father; this was enough to send him into a fury, and he ranted and raved before picking up a blunt instrument, and attacking her; he then bludgeoned her mercilessly until she lost consciousness {my other Aunt being powerless to stop him}.
As a consequence of this unforeseen and bloody outburst, my younger aunt suffered, besides concussions and internal wounds, from complications due to a diabetic reaction, which caused her blood-sugar level to rise exponentially, and the doctors could do nothing to control it. She died as a result of the reaction, soon thereafter ~ She was 74 years old. Yet, no formal charges were brought against him, why? How could they allow him to get away with having committed such a harrowing deed? But, he did, and the tribe remains silent about the whole affair, and the only witness to the horror, my mother's twin, has joined her sister in the hereafter as of late.
Ultimately, however, upon the hour of his triumph, his wife of over 40 years discovered him, in flagrante delicto, trying to rape their live-in house maid. His own daughters denounced him, and hired lawyers to divest their father of all the properties and bonds he had cheated or stolen from his own siblings, or had threatened, raped, and possibly had a hand in murdering a number of others in order to grab their respective inheritance in the course of several decades. Thus he is floating about, at the age of 68, haunted by the spectre of retribution, begging for hospice from the few remaining relatives who still tolerate his presence, futilely imploring his daughters to desist from their case against him, and is, finally, paying the consequences of his crimes, cruelties and calumnies with looming destitution, and growing, excruciating infirmities ~ penile impotence being the least, yet most lamented one of all.
I never liked him. From the moment I first met him I thought he was a crud. His present plight, therefore, does not interest me in the slightest (except in giving me un-due delight). If I were to be informed of his sudden death, nonetheless, the news would brighten my morbid demeanor. I shudder to think I am closely related to such bestial and repugnant human pukes (my own druggie brothers not least among them). It's enough to make one want to swallow poison for the debilitating shame they sadistically rammed up one's terrified ass-hole. Of course, once my mother related the dirty facts to me, I too swore a sacred vow of silence in front of la Virgen de Guadalupe, and agreed that I would pray for intercession from her if I were to forfeit this vow---that I would never tell anyone---but, again, I just had to blab it all for the sake of posterity. Until it all comes out in the open {or if a bolt of lightening strikes me dead for betraying my vow}, I leave the matter to the curious and intrepid to find out, like a forensics expert, how it all happened, to get others to confess what they know, if they are hiding a secret, because the surviving heirs will want to bring it out in the open one of these days.
And so this concludes this entry for the Children of Anger blog. What have drug-alcohol-pot abusing assholes done to you? Tell us, we'd like to know. Bringing it out in the open will help to soothe the soul if not cure it of what ails it.
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