Bullies:1 Fat Australian Kids:0
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There’s this Australian kid, Benjamin Cox, who recently got handed an assload of money in compensation for being bullied. Not to be paid by the bully, mind you, but by the school district, and therefore the Canadian taxpayers. His mommy took him by the hand and led him through a lawsuit, because he was so very traumatized by being the picked-on kid that he can’t go to school, can’t get a job–can do nothing, in fact, but sit in his room playing on his PlayStation. He’s going to get paid to do just that for the rest of his life, now.
It’s horseshit. Oh, I believe he was bullied, and I believe it sucked really hard, but this kid just wants a free ride like everybody else.
His mother, bless her enabling soul, makes some very telling statements, such as “He didn’t like crowds, he didn’t like teachers, didn’t like the work,” when explaining why the middle-school bullying so truamatically screwed up his high school career.
Well, hell, I don’t like crowds, most teachers, or schoolwork, and never did, but I somehow managed to repress my tortured soul long enough to graduate.
And I’m sure I could go round for round with this loser on bullying stories. During the course of my public-school education, I was knocked unconscious twice, had my cheekbone broken and my shoulder sprained (two seperate incidents), had dirt and toilet paper shoved into my mouth, and to this day I have the tip of a graphite pencil embedded in my calf. Those are just the ones that stand out, not counting the fact that the unofficial sport of MeadowView Grade School was, for three hellish years, a game where about two dozen students would surround me with basketballs, kickballs, four-square balls, and volleyballs, and proceed to play a very one-sided round of dodgeball where I wasn’t allowed to dodge, throw back, or be called “out”.
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