Dear Antiseptic

Thank you for those condescending words of wisdom, directed at a “premature” old lady – whatever that means!

Actually Antiseptic, I don’t need you to tell me how to raise kids. I’ve already done my duty for Australia. “Job well done Dickie”, I muse, as I observe these smart young people about town who also care for their neighbours and are kind to animals.

“Given that there are millions of kids on the street at any time and that there are at most a couple of incidents of "stranger danger" in a year, the risk is very low.”

One of my kids, a high profile, prominent member of our society, who is not yet a parent, could give you the clinical statistics, Antiseptic. “Millions of kids on the street?” Are you kidding? “A couple of incidents a year?” Huh? Which planet are you on?

Last year, there were several attempted abductions where my grandies live and it's not the Bronx. Two weeks ago, a shopkeeper, some 100 metres away was held up by a masked gunman. The victim was lucky since the one previous, in the same shopping complex, was carried out in a box. Facts mate – not delusions!

My grandies happen to be just 5 and 7 years of age. And yes, Antiseptic, their parents have taught them to be street savvy, without putting the fear of God into them. And no, Antiseptic, they do not visit a playground, in a metropolitan area, unsupervised. You really should refrain from going off “half-cocked.”

“Dickie, if a child was snatched whilst you were "on guard", what could you do about it?” Another inane question, Antiseptic? OK - I’d call in the bikies!

Antiseptic. Through the ages of 3 to 12, I had a good deal to do with paedophiles, through no fault of my wonderful, though naïve, deaf and profoundly blind, single mother. I was a “vulnerable” child – easy prey. The paedophiles I encountered, with the exception of one, did not resemble Mr Ferguson.

Contd……

Contd….

These paedophiles all had dutiful wives. Happily, the last I remember of a close encounter, was a paedophile on his knees, clutching his crown jewels after I’d placed my size seven boot into them before fleeing. I was strapped for my efforts and threatened with reform school for fabricating such beastly lies about this devoted husband who played such beautiful piano.

And now, in society, we have the hunters being hunted. This dilemma is, no doubt terrifying for the hunted – the other species - namely one Mr Ferguson. I know this because I was hunted for years too. But then should we be surprised when our leaders encourage their subjects to hunt and torment anything which gets in their way – the defenceless ones , pulling the wings off flies, so to speak. And does it matter that many small vulnerable children in Australian society continue to lose their innocence, their liberty and continue to be molested or raped every day?

So while the law-abiding citizens evolve into “premature old ladies, jumping at shadows,” out on rampage to get Dennis, whilst “Uncle Harry,” baby-sits (ahem) the toddlers, the ‘blameless’ civil rights folk accuse society of all these ills because “society” is simply a vague reference to somebody else anyway? And while they know that the law is an ass, they seek justice only for Dennis.

Why do many paedophiles (male) claim they molest children because they too were molested as children? In Australia, young females are sexually molested three times more than young males, therefore, I ask you: “How many registered female paedophiles do we have in this country?”

Despite your vacuous presumptions, Antiseptic, I rarely obsess over paedophiles. I carry little baggage and have a blessed and fortunate life. However, I’m sufficiently discerning to practise the “precautionary principle.” Unlike you, I do not dwell in La La Land and when a rare opportunity arises such as this; I believe I speak with a “working” knowledge on the subject. Do you?