I am not angry but confused(to the responses from some Chinese net citizens of the 2 students's being murdered on USC campus)

I am not fury, mad or even slightly angry at all after having heard the responses from some Chinese Net-citizens, but confused, deeply, for how some people could possibly become so ridiculously stupid, actually, ignorant, yet they are probably all good at math, maybe even advanced math. This does not make sense to me in any way. People who can type, who can go to the website and read, who can speak and write in a rather difficult language system, act like 3 years old kid feeling good when some other kid has fallen on the ground from his bike and got hurt, instead of him, who does not have a bike. Yet they are not quite satisfied. They wish all the kids who have bikes fall and get hurt. Why would they feel happy seeing the other people who have absolutely no business with them suffer? It is so strange because even the very first human beings who had lived in ancient societies or even earlier, in Paleolithic Age were seeking a way to archive the greatest amount of happiness for the whole group. What are they? Maybe I cannot say them ignorant because the word ignorance perhaps cannot be applied to creatures other than human beings, even if they can speak, walk and eating shit, which are not necessarily the absolute qualifications for being a human. Besides, I do not see according to what they have drawn their conclusions.


I'm confused.
I'm not angry, at all,
but what's the fucking matter with our society?!

A Little Accident

Years ago I joined the American Army and got seriously injured in a battle in Afghan. I had been so tired of that bloody war. It was not my being a coward but the thick black smoke, the thunder-loud sound of bombs that kept falling on the ground randomly and the dust lifted by the hot wind produced by powerful bombs together with mental pieces were able to drive every single brave soldier on the battlefield crazy. I can still recall how Johnson, a very brave officer and good man, bagged me to shoot him at his head to end his pain after his being hit by a stick bomb some one on the other side had thrown in our trench. Watching his bowels spilling out, I could do nothing but give him all morphine I had prepared for myself. On the second day, I got my left leg hit by an unconscious bullet. How lucky I was, leaving that hell with only one leg injured. I could not help think in that way though the thought makes me sick. Instead going back to America, I came to England and shared a room with a strange behaving man, and also a ridiculously smart and strong-minded gentleman, Sherlock Holmes, who had the pride I left behind in Afghan.

       I was on my way to Harry’s Bar and Grill on E India Road for dinner with my new bride in a casual carriage that was very common in London. My marriage had drifted me away with my old roomie. I could not deny it that living without Holmes’s great adventures made my life so relaxing and comfortable. I went to my little clinic, having several patients every day and drove back home to give a kiss to Mary, Mrs. Watson, after work. Our house and garden were taken care of by my lovely and loving wife and every time I went home, I felt something that I could never feel while being beside Sherlock Holmes, safety. All of a sudden, I heard some one shout my name with a strong, firm and magnetic voice, just the voice a man should have, while we were riding down Peterson Street, which was parallel to Baker Street with a block in between. “ Mary dear, if you would excuse me...”

       There is no way that I cannot recognize his voice for however long we have not talked to each other.

       “ Oh doctor, wedlock suits you very well.” Said Holmes standing on the side walk cheerfully as I stepped out of my carriage and walked toward him while trying not to knock on some passers-by who were not paying attention, with his arms open like going to hug some one and holding the lead stick in his right hand. He looks well. That’s good. That was what I thought for the very moment when I saw him.

       “ Sherlock, have I ever mentioned how much I liked your hat?” I really do.

       “ John, you never need to say it,” smiled him, looking so confident, and almost proud, “ you know that.”

      “ Alas, can I have a little privacy? You know it really made me feel better when you caught a cold and could not speak for a week. I felt like a man who had secrets in that week, which increased my charm immensely.”

       “ Dr. Watson, you are indeed attractive. Look at the pretty lady sitting in your carriage, such a kind woman and wife. A careless man like you who had never shaved his face completely before getting married now dresses in a beautifully tailored suit, which, oh she has also sewed up an extra button under your right collar. And those shoes that have been oiled every day, not mentioning that they are from Henry Pole & Co. In addition, the sulfurous smell that had long been with you is gone, entirely. I believe that credit should be Mary’s since you’d never admitted your possession of the unpleasant smell.”

       “ Stop it, the Great Sherlock Holmes, please. I certainly know what you can do but I’d like to be a fool who dose not know his life has all been known by another crystal-clearly like being painted on a 40-inched paper.” I knew if I had not stopped him at that point, he could keep doing this until there was nothing he did not know about me.

       Sherlock laughed out. “ My sincere apology, doctor. The last thing, um, forget about it.”

       “ How did you know that carriage is mine?” That was the question had confused me since I heard him shout my name. “ There are at least one thousand 2-horsed carriage exactly like this one in London.”

       He looked at my showing a confused face, and soon he burst into laughter. “ Therefore it must be your darling wife who has had ‘WATSON’ engraved in the back wooden board of the carriage.”

       I turned my face to the carriage. Apparently he was right. He always is. Mary waved her hands at us. “It is not the first time for me to feel like a fool anyway.” I turned my face back saying.

       “ John, now I need to tell you an very interesting case. Not here though, of course.” Sherlock’s face suddenly turned into serious. “ Will you be good enough to come by our chamber, well, my, this evening at about 9:00?”

       “ I’d better check in with Mary.”

       “ Come on, John! You were a soldier who would never be frightened by bullets and bombs and now you need to ask your wife’s permission to meet an old friend? Besides I know Mary is kind enough to let me occupy her husband for several hours.”

       “ I’ll meet you there.”

“ Good.”

 He shook my hand and turned his back to me and started off. When he took 2 steps, he paused, turned around, bowed slowly with his nice hat in his left hand and said, “ It would be a shame for me if I left without saying congratulations. Sincerely, I feel so happy for you my friend. ” After he had successfully made me like a fool for the third time, he was about to leave.

“ Hey, Sherlock! What did you mean by ‘congratulations’? How did you know I fell down because of the stupid solid soap? So you are teasing me right? You are teasing me.”

I could only see his left hand waving in the air and he had completely sunk into the crowd. Again. Well, since I could never follow him anyway, I decided to let it go. It took 3 steps for me to not think about it, another 3 steps for me to totally forget about it and 2 more steps for me to get in the carriage. As soon as I was seated, Mary showed me a delicate small box wrapped with fine purple paper and golden silk ribbon, with obvious happiness.

“ John! A newsy gave me this cute box and a massage, and they are all addressed as ‘ William’!”

“ Sherlock Holmes, what trick are you playing with me…” I chuckled and opened the box.

“ Oh my goodness! They are so pretty!” Mary almost shouted out.

“ Yes, they are.” Ladies can never handle jewelries’ gorgeousness. There was a pair of ruby earrings lying on the bottom and a pearl necklace, fixed with red shiny thin strings. “ How dose he always get these fancy articles...” As I whined about his omnitude, a small piece of pink paper fell out of the box. It said, “ It’s Williams, my middle name, if that’s a boy. Your dear S.H.” Only one person who could have this high-leveled handwriting happens to sign his name as “S.H”.

“Dear, what’s that?”

I gave the massage to her and looked out side of window at those walking on the street. Mary’s cream caught my mind back.

“ Oh my dear Lord! This is impossible! On one else could probably know this! Honey, I haven’t told anybody.”

I felt so annoyed since all those sudden confusions made me mad and turned my head in. Why are women all so spoffish. “ What’s that?”

“ John, I’m pregnant!”

“ No, you cannot. I know my condition… Oh my God!”

“ Oh God…”