Total pages in book: 196
Estimated words: 180438 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 902(@200wpm)___ 722(@250wpm)___ 601(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 180438 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 902(@200wpm)___ 722(@250wpm)___ 601(@300wpm)
“Why is she on Freud’s ass?”
“I think she’s pissed at psychiatry, let’s listen.” Of course, she’s got it out for psychiatry because she’s fucking nuts. I wish for just one day where she and her little team of rejects weren’t getting up to shit, where they just acted like the little girls they are. She has a whole ass ocean at her front door; can’t she just go take a swim?
I stayed on that island to give her a distraction, but what did she do? She’s turned the damn place into the isle of Dr. Moreau. Ten years 0ld and her mind doesn’t shut off, and thanks to her dear old uncle Hank, she has others who are just like her to help carry out her nefarious deeds.
Each of them is skilled in some shit or the other that they have no business being involved in at their young, tender ages. I wanted so much more for her; I wanted her to do what I did and turn that shit off so she could live a full life. A life not bogged down with the cares and worries of the world, a little selfish, yes, but it was for the best, no?
I’d dropped out of Harvard for that reason and turned it all off, losing myself in something I liked, something that didn’t draw on the brain power that had been the bane of my existence from my youth.
But not my kid; my kid was rushing headfirst into that maelstrom, just ready to take it all on. She’s not like me; she’s stronger and braver than I was at that age. Or maybe she doesn’t have that don’t give a fuck factor that I do. I wish she did, wish with everything in me that she could be spared this.
I looked around at the others, the way they watched the screen, their attention completely focused on her as she paced around the lab she’d conned me into outfitting with the help of her uncles, her little face puckered in concentration, just like her mom does when she’s about to zing me with some shit out of left field.
“This is frustrating and almost certainly debilitating.”
“What is?” Lily and Nia looked up from what they were doing.
“My research has taken a turn I did not expect, though it’s exactly what I suspected. Listen to this and see if you can follow along. In the sixties and seventies, there was something called the era of free love. Before that, there were the two world wars that changed the dynamics of the family and societal structures, but this isn’t about that.”
“Immediately after this period of free love, there was a new phenomenon of men in windowless white vans abducting kids. Kids were being taken from their homes, from parks, school yards, any and everywhere. The thing is, it wasn’t new, but with the advances in technology, news spread wider and faster than at any other time in the past.”
“This, of course, led to fear, so now the men and women who were so-called flower children, who had been raised and did raise their own latchkey kids, were growing more and more aware of the danger to their children, so now, instead of children being left alone, they were subdued in their homes for fear of being taken.”
“I’m not sure what that has to do with your research.” Lily kept writing on her computer while Nia was smashing the keys on hers at a rapid rate as she tried to improve her hacking skills. “I’m getting to it; follow the breadcrumbs.”
“So, now we have a generation of children who aren’t allowed to play outside, but kids have lots of energy they need to expend, and they can’t because they’re going from sitting in classrooms all day to being enclosed in the walls of their homes all evening and night until they repeat the same thing the next day.”
“On weekends, the parents who are tired from the work week find their children who have all this energy very frustrating, and that becomes a problem. The pharmaceutical companies convince these parents that their kids have problems, negating the fact that they’re just kids with energy, and so they dose their kids up with whatever synthetic nonsense they came up with to turn the kids into mindless drones, which the parents see as the kids behaving, having forgotten how they themselves were once free before they were fed crippling fear that would never go away.”
“At about the same time they started drugging children, there was a new thing on the rise: video games. Something else to keep children out of their parents’ hair and give the impression that they were well-behaved since they were no longer jumping off of furniture or bouncing off the walls to exhaust their natural energy.”