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A THESIS
& 2 SHORT
STORIES
by William
Bolton
(Discussion
points suggested by Bibi Baxter) |
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THE CONTENTS OF THIS PAGE
RELATED PAGES
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VIOLENCE
Can there be a positive side to it?
Discussion
points
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Why has violence
always existed?
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Divine retribution
- fact? or fiction?
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Types of violent
punishment
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Is violence
in the name of religion justified?
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Types of emotions
& their importance
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Degrees of
aggression
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Will a
violent-free world ever be possible?
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Acceptable
violence v unacceptable violence
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Alternative
options to war
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The argument
for a global police force
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We live in a violent world and tend to think that it is
getting worse. However, this is not so. Violence has dominated
the world since Man first opened his eyes.
For confirmation of this, one needs only read the Bible, especially the
Old Testament. It is the Bible that is the basis of several
religions, in one form or another and religion has ruled civilization for
millennia.
Christians are taught that God is all-loving, all-caring, yet He
annihilates people - men, women and children - by the thousand. A
Cleric will argue that if God metes out such punishment, then the victim(s)
must have deserved it. What action is it, we should ask, that earns
such awful retribution?
In my view, violence is an unfortunate fact of life and I truly wish we
could eradicate it. It has to be said that humans are made up of
many emotions, aggression being one of them. Without emotion, life
would be a very dull experience indeed, so it must be accepted that we
need every emotion we possess.
I would maintain that aggression, and thus violence, is an integral part
of our construction and should not be suppressed to a degree that it no
longer exists. If the whole human race were to lose that part of
itself at a stroke, then the world would, indeed, become a better place.
That will not happen and so aggression must remain.
However, the violence that is within us should be controlled and this, to
me, could begin at nursery and school level. Unprovoked violence, or
violence by temper, should be shown to be the worst anti-social behaviour
and the need for control need be indoctrinated. Such a task would not be
easy, especially when one considers the violent and abusive examples set
by some parents, but it is not impossible.
I cannot subscribe to the view that, should a person strike another
person, the response should be an attempt at mediation. That is an
invitation to being bullied and a bully will take full advantage. A
good example of this is the second World War when the British Prime
Minister, attempting appeasement, negotiated with Adolf Hitler and
obtained a written agreement, which Chamberlain announced with the now
famous words: “Peace in our time!” What followed was a
vicious attack on Poland.
Such an example proves human nature down to the lowest level – children.
Personally, I abhor all wars because of the deaths of countless innocent
civilians. At the same time, I must accept the inevitability of war
when all else fails.
However, I think that all other methods should be tried before taking that
awful step. Discussion first, then pressure in the form of trade
embargoes and non- cooperation, politically and financially, would have a
strong effect. One proviso I would wish to see in the case of
embargo, would be that foodstuffs should not be restricted.
Of course, should a country be under threat of attack from another, then
it must defend itself. That is where our natural aggression comes to
the fore and is a reason why I feel it should not be overly suppressed.
Perhaps to avoid international and global confrontations, cooperation
between all nations should be encouraged. In this way, perhaps, the
need for war can be permanently avoided.
Should the world work towards a global police force, made up of segments
from each nation, free to exert power of arrest (including tyrannical
Leaders) universally?
Or is this a step too far?
The above ‘thesis’ is produced by William Bolton, (pseudonym), writer
of psychological thrillers - 10th March, 2004.
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| Both
of the following short stories are well-written and suitable for use in class with pupils, aged
ten and upwards. The subjects are very different and could be used
in preparation for class discussion or debate.
Spelling differences:
- marvellous [UK] marvelous [US]
- coloured [UK] colored [US]
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TRUE LOVE NEVER DIES.
Short Story......by....William Bolton.
(Copyright © William Bolton 2003-2004)
They met whilst on vacation in beautiful Devon, England; she
with four of her friends, he with four of his. Lucy had been sixteen at
the time and he, Peter, had been a grand nineteen.
Whilst relaxing on the beach, the girls had somehow found
themselves
locked in a furious ball game with some youths who had been passing loud
comments about the sunbathing girls as they tossed their ball about.
Rising to the bait, the girls had challenged the lads to a
game. None of
them were prepared to admit to the others that they had secretly thought
of this as a good way in which to get into contact with quite attractive
members of the opposite sex!
The game had ultimately gone in favor of the boys. After all,
they
were taller and much stronger than their opponents. Both sets, however,
had gained equally in the sense that the game had afforded many
clinches, with the boys holding on tightly a little longer than should
have
been necessary in order to effect a tackle.
It had also been a little unfair in that the boys
occasionally picked up the girls and threw them unceremoniously, out of
the way. How the girls had loved all this foul play!
The group agreed to meet later and enjoy further time
together. Peter and Lucy were drawn to each other like magnets. It was a partnership
that lasted throughout the two week stay, whilst the
others drifted apart to spend the vacation in their own chosen way.
It was attraction at first sight, love at second. The pair
seemed to have
so much in common. Their interests in music, food, films, sport, and
simply
walking along enjoying the countryside, were completely parallel.
On a day when the sun shone in a clear blue sky and a warm
breeze
caressed their skins, and butterflies jinked happily amongst the profusion
of wild flowers, with birds singing sweetly in the air, Peter and Lucy
held
each other in their arms, and kissed.
The kiss was the first real one that Lucy had experienced. It
caused her
head to swim and her heart to beat at twice it's normal rate. Her whole
body responded with a tingling sensitivity that she did not know she
possessed.
Uncontrolled signals went out from her for this man to hold
her, caress
her, become part of her. She never wanted it to end. It felt as though
they
had literally melted together. Peter was gentle, caring and his smell of a
clean "muskiness," would live with Lucy for ever.
They were inseparable from that day on,
travelling by bus all around
the area, delighted by the quaint sights and the wonderful names of the
villages they visited. Meals in cafes were eaten slowly, with eyes locked
together in obvious adoration. They held hands at every opportunity. It
was bliss.
Lucy's favourite times were the long, evening walks in the
countryside. During the walks, they would find a secluded spot where they could kiss
and cuddle; the kissing always being something special. For Lucy,
the world could never get sweeter.
Peter had proved to be an experienced lover, kissing, holding
and
caressing with such delicacy, it was as if being brushed by a fine breath.
That day, their love and commitment was sealed.
Discovering that they lived only eight miles apart, future
meetings were
easy and, when Lucy reached twenty years of age, she and Peter married.
They were blessed with one child, Charmaine, a beautiful little girl who
brought added pleasure to the couple's lives.
When Charmaine was twenty, she married an American
businessman
and moved with him to the USA. This saddened the parents but, as always,
they wanted only what was best for their daughter.
Two years later, when he was forty-eight years of age, Peter
sat down
at seven o' clock one evening to watch television while Lucy pottered
around upstairs doing something or other. When Lucy came to join him
ten minutes later, he was dead! A brain tumor.
Charmaine came over for the funeral and stayed with the
distraught
Lucy for a further two weeks, each sharing in the other's sorrow. This was a great help to Lucy and, gradually, she came to terms with her
loss. She would never forget, but she could now carry on life basking in
the love that had endured.
Occasionally, Peter had spoken about after-death,
saying that he believed it to be a creative force rather than a physical
presence.
He felt that, when a person died, their spirit left the
body and became
an entity that felt no sadness, only positive charges. It was Peter's
belief
that this entity took up no time or space and that it enjoyed experiences
of loved ones and existed in constant happiness.
Perhaps he was right.
Lucy, now fifty-five years old and having put on a little
weight, was some 9lbs. overweight for her age and height. This didn’t
trouble her; she regarded herself as “cuddly.” Even so, she
entertained a little envy at the sight of the trim young girls shown in
magazines and on television.
Her dream this night had been about keeping company with
another man, a nameless one whom she had met on a visit to a local
amusement park, following an unaccountable urge to go there.
She was perfectly comfortable and relaxed with the man; it was as though
they had known each other forever.
He was a real gentleman. He had treated Lucy to an excellent
meal in
a classy restaurant, being served swiftly and efficiently with all the
delightful foods she favored. The wine had been chosen by him, and an
excellent choice it had been, too. Everything seemed perfect.
It had been a long ambition of Lucy's to experience all the
frightening
rides on the amusement park but she had never got around to it. Now,
here she was, escorted by this attentive mystery man who cared for her
every needs.
She had tried all the scary rides and now she was climbing to
heaven, it seemed, on ‘The Big One,’ – a truly terrifying
roller-coaster. The ride summed up her wonderful day. A whirlwind of events with
a feeling of pleasure and excitement.
Lucy ended the day with her new found friend in her bed.
Everything was as it had been with Peter. She could not believe that the
wonderful relationship she had shared with him could ever repeat itself.
But this was just Heavenly!
In the dream, Lucy woke up to find a note on her bed, her
lover having
left unnoticed. As she went to pick up the note, the dream ended. Back in the real world, Lucy got out of bed enveloped with a
marvellous
feeling. She stretched, smiling still.
As she bent to retrieve the underclothes she had discarded
untidily the night before, she noticed a folded piece of paper on the
floor at the side of the bed. Picking it up, she opened it and read:
My sweet, sweet Darling,
Thank you for the wonderful day we had together. It has been so long since I enjoyed myself so much.
The time we spent together was all too short, I only wish it could have been longer.
I needn't tell you how wonderful last night was; 'Heavenly' fails to describe it!
However, my only love, it will now go on to last for ever; this I can promise you.
Until the next time, in Eternity,'
Peter. xxxxxxxxx
Peter? Peter! She looked again. The writing was in Peter's
hand!! Lucy's heart began to race as never before. Staring at the piece of
paper, trembling, eyes wide, she felt a tremendous pain across her chest.
Her head reeled, colored spots appearing before her bulging eyes. She staggered and fell. She was dead before hitting the ground.
Instantly, Lucy's spirit left the now defunct body. She was
aware of a
calmness, a feeling of extreme well-being. She seemed to be floating
upwards away from the crumpled figure below. There was no sadness,
no sorrow, no regrets, only an awareness. This was death, more or less
as Peter had imagined it to be. She was an entity!
The entity began to absorb an ecstatic, warm presence. It was
him! Peter was with her! They were occupying no space, no time, yet they were
as they were in the early summer of their years. Young, bright, beautiful
people. They were everlastingly entwined in their deep love and joy for
each other.
At last, Lucy and Peter were together again; this time for
eternity!
E N D
(Pedagogic ideas by Bibi Baxter_ |
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STORY 2
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STALKER
A short story...By William Bolton
(Copyright © William Bolton 2003-2004)
Arthur enjoyed stalking Jennifer. It gave him a kick.
He found it exciting to be able to trail her in his car, follow her around
the shopping precincts, watch her at home, follow her when she drove her 13
year old daughter to school. He knew that she was divorced, so there
was no reason at all why they shouldn't be together.
He had approached her several times and at first she had
returned his
pleasantries but, as he confided his deep love for her, she had become
evasive and then downright hostile!
Why be like that with someone who loves you? And, more to the point,
why with someone whom you loved in return, but wouldn't admit it?
She had even reported him to the police! Fortunately, they were more
understanding; they could see he meant no harm. After all, he hadn't
done anything to her. On the contrary, he had sent her many floral
bouquets - not cheap! He had even posted items of jewellery to her
and, yesterday, he had passed a large box of chocolates through her
daughter,
when she had to walk from school due to the car being off the road.
He was goodness itself to her!
Today, he’d decided to speak to her again. Following
her on foot as Jennifer shopped in the Town, he caught up with her as she was about to load the
purchases into her car. "Hello, Jennifer. Would you like some help?"
Jennifer whirled, dropping the remainder of her goods into
the boot where they spilled from the flimsy plastic carrier bags.
"Help? Help? Listen, I don't want you anywhere near me.
I don't want you sending me flowers or gifts-they all go straight into the
bin so you're wasting your money. And, most of all, I don't want you
anywhere near my daughter! Now. Do you understand me?"
Arthur smiled. 'Why do women never admit to their true
feelings? Why can't they be honest about them, like men?' he
thought. "Look. I'll take you out for a meal tonight eh?
And your daughter. She can come too! How about it, Jennifer.
You know I love you and I'm pretty sure you love me too, if only you'd
admit it. So, how about it eh? Tonight?"
Jennifer stared at him in disbelief. This man had made
her life utter misery over the past few months. She had lost sleep;
she was always watching for him to appear; she was sick of seeing his car
parked outside her house until late at night. She had had the
telephone removed as being the only way to stop the incessant calls from
him. The Police wouldn't help.
She was close to a nervous break-down. "Go out with you?
Are you completely mad? I hate you!" Pushing her face
daringly close to his, she spat: "I hate you with all my heart!
I wish you were dead! I hate you! Hate you!" With
that she slammed down the tailgate and jumped into her car, screeching
away. 'There! That told him!' she thought. Hot and
flustered, Jennifer looked into her rear mirror to appraise the effects of
her verbal onslaught. The man was standing where she had left him,
staring after her disappearing car - and he was smiling!
That evening, Arthur stationed in his car outside her house,
Jennifer talked to her daughter, Anne, about the whole affair.
"Yes, Mum. I know what's been going on. I'm
not stupid. And I'm not a kid anymore. You can talk to me you
know!"
"Yes, darling. I realise that you are growing up,
but I didn't want to worry you. I thought he would get fed up and
stop pestering me."
"His sort never know when to give up." said Anne,
as though this sort of thing were an everyday occurrence. "Why
don't we just bash him. That'll stop him!"
Jennifer smiled ruefully. "No, Anne. That
definitely is not the answer! I'm considering moving away from
here...to another part of the country. Somewhere where he won't find us. I have enough in the Bank to see
us
through until we have sold this house. The only thing is..."
Jennifer paused. "it will mean finding a new school. What do
you think?"
Anne was shocked! "Oh, no! Please Mum!
Don't do that! I'll never be able to settle in properly and I'm at
an important stage in my studies now. Please, Mum, don't do
that!" She began to cry.
Jennifer snuggled her daughter to her, comforting and
consoling. "OK. I'll give it a bit more time but
something has to change soon. It's driving me insane!"
Both went to bed that night, sad and frightened.
Arthur watched the bedroom lights go out and he returned home
to enjoy his fantasies of how it would be when Jennifer came to him.
In fact, if she didn't respond soon, he was about to turn nasty!
Then she would know about him!
The following morning, as usual, Arthur left his house at eight to take up
his position, ready to follow Jennifer when she took her daughter to
school. As he looked back, he was horrified to see that someone had
sprayed words on his wall and his door. The words read; 'Pervert'...'Stalker'...'A pervert lives here'...All in large, red
letters.
'Who could have done this? Surely not Jennifer!
No. Impossible! She was not the type...and he'd seen her go to bed
late last night. He would have to abandon his morning pleasure.
Passers by were staring at the house - and himself! Finding some
paint brush softener, and using a stiff bristled hand brush. he set to
work on the long, slow, painstaking job. It failed to completely remove
the words, although now faint, they were still visible.
That night, having lost a complete day, Arthur turned out all
the lights and sat up, watching. By daybreak, no one had appeared
and he was tired out. Too tired to visit Jennifer. Another day
lost! But he would make up for it! He would be at her house
again tonight.
Waking in time to catch Jennifer picking Anne up from school,
Arthur leapt from his bed, dressed hurriedly and dashed outside. He
was vaguely aware of a darkened lounge, although the Sun was brightly
shining, but it only half registered.
As he closed the door, he saw what had caused the darkness; someone had sprayed all his windows in red paint! Fresh words had
been added, covering the older ones. The same messages! Arthur
was furious! 'Right!' he thought, 'I'll go and sort this out.
She must know something about this!' Literally running to his car,
he stopped, mortified, a few feet from it. His lovely car. His
pride and joy. It was scratched all over, the tyres torn, and the
words, 'Pervert'...'Stalker'... sprayed on every available space.
He sat down on the pavement and began to sob. People
passing, seeing the house and the car, began to berate him. Some
women even kicked at him. Men hurled abuse at him and one or two
issued serious threats about his expected life-span. He rose and
dashed inside.
After a full week of similar attacks, never spotting the
perpetrator, Arthur was a nervous wreck. Without warning, he left
the house in the hands of an Estate Agent, still in it's awful state, and
went to live with his parents, some 300 miles away.
Jennifer couldn't understand why the Stalking had stopped; it
had been over a week now and no sign. Perhaps, at last, he had realised.
How wonderful! She felt much easier now, her instinct telling her
that it was finally all over.
That afternoon, she went to collect her daughter from school,
this time bright and happy. On the way home, Anne asked if they had
any paint remover. She said that they had been having Art class all
week, spraying plaster models the class had made. Jennifer had
noticed during the week that Anne's hands, and even her bicycle, were
stained with red paint!
E N D
(Pedagogic ideas by Bibi Baxter_ |
| About the author: William
Bolton has had other
stories published on the web. These can be found through using the
Yahoo search facility - just type in his name. No links have been
added, as they will unsuitable for children; William's own words
are, "I write psychological thrillers that are not for maiden
aunts". You have been warned. (I have not read his other
works, so
cannot comment on them.) |
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