A 12-year-old student opens fire at a school in Finland, killing 1 and wounding 2 others
Ethel Rohan, author of ‘Out of Dublin’ on Curt Rude's writing. "Overall, great writing style. Reminds me of Rushdie: internal, emotionally complicated, and dualistic. Delivered with a sensitivity and awareness that is underrated. In one word his work is Awesome!"
At least 7 shot, all under age 17, in mass shooting near Indianapolis mall
Here we go again. Guess it's high time we start reading People Shooter. I'll post the next installment shortly. Does this headline kinda resonate with you folks who have read all 8 Installments so far? Young person with a gun in a Mall. Were the victims armed? Probably not. Cops didn't make an arrest yet, but you have to figure it's coming. Questions . . . How is this mindset enabled? Where did the gun come from? Did the Second Amendment contribute to this shooting? Why does the U.S. produce more of these shootings than any other place on the planet?
This was sent to me. It's intended to be funny, but doesn't it resonate the truth? No matter what political affiliation we all have, we can still laugh together . . . right? In the U.S. we are all Americans first. Then we have political parties. No need to disrespect each other. Correct?
I am receiving many comments and, as such, have begin answering them in the order they arrive. They are posted at curt-rude.com It felt like these are very heartfelt questions. I am committed to the Truth as some of you can already attest to. The novels and short stories I have written address issues such as bullying, PTSD, and police abusing the oath of office. My most recent effort, 'People Shooter' is posted as installments on this site if you're interested.
What else needs to be said? . . . Oh I know, have a Happy Easter and remember the less fortunate.
Gosh, I get my life threatened on some sites but yet this comment was deemed naughty. I am committed to the Truth and will continue to see it for what it is. Sorry Mike.
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“You know, they
always let on they know my ma drinks too much or sleeps around. That gets old.
I don’t like thinking about it all the time. In school I think about it because
they give me the business.” McShuster was relieved to be away from the school.
“I mean, I can’t even walk down the hall without a girl rolling her eyes or hoofing
it around me. Ain’t official bullying, I suppose, but it still ain’t right in
my book.” His voice cracked. “How I stop my ma from doing stuff?”
“I’m still
recording. I read you your rights and you are free to remain silent. Is your
mother the reason for tonight?”
“Well, I don’t for
sure know why I did it tonight. I mean, I get it. School hurts everyone
sometimes. Guess just maybe sometimes even if you’re hurting you got to do
something. That’s why I did it. I mean, I wasn’t sure so I went to Mister Jerry
Timm’s. He the one where the gun was. They in a safe but everyone knows the
com.”
“Okay, for the
record now. You were teased and it hurt so you went to a Timm’s house. You knew
the combination to the safe. Is that right?”
“Yes. I think you
know most of it, right? Can I get a phone call now?”
“Are you calling a lawyer? I can stop this
tape any time you want.”
“I need to call
work because Dosh is a good boss. He owns Shorty’s by the old train depot. I
gotta call so someone can cover tonight. I don’t think I’m going in tonight. My
side’s killing me.”
“I am sorry but
the last thing you need to worry about is going to work.”
“Look I am trying
to do it right. I get hammered by a bunch of cops and feel like they broke my
back. I get tossed in a squad car and so why do I have to also get fired now?
Answer me that, Officer Dickless Tracey?” He immediately wished he hadn’t said
it; the anger had overtaken him; but he knew he should have never said it.
“Look, I’ve been
plenty good to you. My Megan—my daughter—was at that damn
basketball game tonight. If she had gotten hurt, I’d made damn sure your back
was broken. You wouldn’t be walking, let alone flipping burgers!” She too immediately
regretted saying it.
After so much
hollering and the gun shot ringing in his ears silence reined. The entire
evening was too much. Guns had once been fun, but now they were scary. He knew
one thing for sure: Once a trigger is pulled, there is no going back. Not like
on a computer game. Real life didn’t come with a reset button.
He fixed his gaze on the mountains.
May days in law enforcement resulted in this dialog. Subtle clues to shootings are being dropped here and there. The lady in #7 who is getting huffy really happens. Venting I guess you'd call it. Sheila, many thanks for the feedback. All 8 of the postings are available. Just scroll back to the first one and read away. Mike, I attended the FBI Academy, just after you, way back in the 90's!
Follow this site and I'll be censored no more! You're invited to leave comments that I hope are near and dear to your heart. Let's do it. Let's work on making this a better world!
Shai Louk was attending a Peace Festival. Ironic. She was kidnapped, sexually assaulted, and beheaded. Her attackers paraded her body around the streets of Gaza. Then people brazenly defend her killers. They claim her murderers must answer to a higher order. I know my truth and it is different than others apparently. It is what it is . . .Wrong. Murderers be not proud. A Walk of Shame down the lane of Death & Destruction is in order.
Communication is essential in these trying times. At times I don't understand. Though compassionate, I'm not following this completely. I shared the following and received this feedback. At times it is imperative to Agree to Disagree. Peace.
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Would this really have hurt Mr. Trumps feelings or something? Censorship is Censorship but ya know, it's their site!
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The same goes for books. If you're an author you have to have a thick skin. My stories aren't sugar coated and they involve the truth and timely issues. My Agent follows this philosophy for which I'm very grateful. Take The Bee Killer for example. Realistic enough for you? I mean I talked to soldiers and asked them for input and got it after trust was established. One soldier discussed sleeping with a multitude of prostitutes in Germany after his soldiering ended. PTSD manifests itself in many ways I tell you. another said I nailed it with this Short Story.
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Officer Tracy got
back in the squad and slammed the door. She drove off the curb, one tire at a
time, before heading toward Second where a right turn would take them to the
Police Station.
A lady in a bathrobe
pushed herself out of the crowd and onto the street. As she bent down and
hollered into the squad, McShuster looked down. “Is that you, Jimmy? Look at
me. You’re gonna pay for this. If I had’da gun—” A man stepped in front of her
and gently corralled her back to the crowd, but she spun and screamed, “I
always knew you was a killer!”
McShuster’s head
felt like it was under water, like it was floating away from him. He suddenly
got dizzy and wanted to puke. “Offizzer Lazy, you seed that lady? Seed not
good. I got no grillfriend to laugh whiff? Alone all-time ‘cause you don’t wears
Patagonzia? To waltz in thirsty below wind chill? The rich have car and stop
for ya. They hitz it, when your frozen fingauzes reach for the dough?” Blood
trickled from his nose.
“You on something
back there?” She studied his face. He looked like he was falling asleep.
Fentanyl? She didn’t know.
Now what? Hospital?
Going to be busy there tonight. How in the hell could she take him to the
hospital? That would just get him killed. His victims must have already started
arriving and their families would be showing up.
“I’m good.” He
pulled himself up. “Thanks for loosenin’ up the cuffs. They were killin’ me. I
never knew them things hurt so much.”
“I can turn this
recorder off if your done talking,” Officer Tracy said.
“You know, they
always let on they know my ma drinks too much or sleeps around. That gets old.
I don’t like thinking about it all the time. In school I think about it because
they give me the business.” McShuster was relieved to be away from the school.
“I mean, I can’t even walk down the hall without a girl rolling her eyes or hoofing
it around me. Ain’t official bullying, I suppose, but it still ain’t right in
my book.” His voice cracked. “How I stop my ma from doing stuff?”
“I’m still recording. I read you your rights and you are free to remain silent. Is your mother the reason for tonight?”
The officer is still in police mode. She is making sure her suspect knows he's being recorded and she's wondering if it would be safe for him at the E.R. I had this happen to me once when I was transporting a suspect, in a triple stabbing, to the hospital because he slashed his hand. I researched this story and include my own experience's. Thanks for all the interest!
I post another installment of People Shooter. It's like well we haven't had a shooting for a while and then, just after the post goes live, another shooting. Something is just plain wrong with the fact that our politicians can't figure something out about this ongoing crisis. We are all possibly tomorrows target . . . Ouch.
To read People Shooter scroll down to #1 and read away. We're up to #6 so whatcha waiting for? Get caught up as we prepare for that next shooting. Fire off questions if you're so inclined and be careful out there!
After slowing for
the curb, the ambulance turned left, accelerating with its lights and siren on.
A silhouette was leaning over the gun on the sidewalk. Then it gestured for
someone else to stand near it. The silhouette joined four shadows with guns
drawn as they all ran towards the front door of the school. They were hollering
toward a couple that had stepped out of the building. The two held their hands
up and hollered, “Parents!”
“This is real, pal.
Guns build respect, one bloody little hole at a time. I’ll gun ‘em down. Let’s
see how they sound dead. You apt to not forget that.” A tear surprised him and
made him set up and clear his throat. “Where was I?”
“Shooting people—”
Three officers
were walking toward them. Officer Tracy got out and stepped in front of them.
One walked around her and pulled the door open; and grabbed McShuster. “See
them people.” He pointed at the large crowd across the street. He gripped McShuster’s
collar and pulled him halfway out of the squad and glared at him, inches from
his face. “They’d just as soon kill ya—punk—than look at you.”
McShuster grimaced
from stabs of sharp pain. He couldn’t answer nor did he see what the cop was
pointing towards. His broken rib, if that’s what it was, made it feel like
someone was pushing a long hot screw driver into his chest. It hurt so badly
that he could only manage birdlike chirps.
“You think that’s
funny?” The cop slammed McShuster back into the seat. The cop said something
about wanting to kick some ass, and stomped off to where the gun was lying. A
man was taking pictures of it. It was some kind of assault gun. That’s what his
neighbor, the owner, called it. Now it was lying on the ground getting photographed.
A skinny guy about his height approached the first picture taker and pointed at
the gun. Obviously, he was from the paper and also wanted a shot.
“Three-fourteen
station headed to L.E.C. with one,” crackled the radio. McShuster looked up and
saw Officer Tracy pushing her face to her shoulder mic. Voices were talking
over each other but one did say, “We’re getting surveillance video. Four
injured.” Then another one piped up that she thought it was six shooting
victims. McShuster wondered how six got shot. Did I miss something here?
Officer Tracy got
back in the squad and slammed the door. She drove off the curb, one tire at a
time, before heading toward Second where a right turn would take them to the
Police Station.
Where is the violation? Am I running into folks who support a cause and thus use the 'report abuse tool' to squish my comment? I mean initially nothing was problematic with this comment, then out of the blue 'Another Day Another Rejection'.
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