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Published September 19, 2008

* Here's another oldie but...oldie. A couple of years ago, a friend of mine was thinking about starting some sort of magazine, or e-zine...some kind of 'zine. Anyhow, he asked me to write for it, and I told him I would submit something to him. I sent him this, and needless to say, he would use it. Our friendship immediately ended, and I burnt down his house.

Basically, this is the first "thing", other than research papers for school, that I ever wrote. Look at how not very far I've come. *


A Message Paid For By The Following:

People Excusing Deviant Offenders' Perverted Hungers Involving Lewd Engagement 


Louis William Conradt Jr. 57 years young. A man taken from us before our time. You see, Louis is just the latest victim of a bias sweeping the country at an alarming rate. A prejudice that not only does a majority of the population condone, but even supports and dedicatedly views. I of course am referring to Dateline NBC’s To Catch a Predator series.


Poor, unsuspecting Mr. Conradt was chosen as a pawn in their sick game of cat and mouse. After singling him out for no good reason in a chat room, someone working for the show who was posing as a thirteen-year-old boy online, tried to lure Mr. Conradt into a sexually explicit conversation. Begrudgingly, Mr. Conradt partook in the pornographic chat. You see, Louis was a very kind man. He would do anything not to hurt the feelings of a small child. Anything, including sacrificing his own morals to discuss the ins-and-outs of oral and anal sex with a pre-pubescent male child.


With the conversation initiated, the decoy (who I will now refer to as “He”, or the forms of “He” in quotations) quickly moved into Phase II of two of “His” dastardly plan. Much as an outdoor bug zapper attracts it’s pretty with its bright, fluorescent light and sweet siren’s song of harmonious buzzing (admit it, we’ve all been drawn in and almost touched it ourselves),”He” attempted to lure Mr. Conradt into its electrical field of destruction and death. “He” invited Mr. Conradt to meet him, claiming that “His” parents were out of town and “He” was all alone. “He” promised friendship, “He” promised fun, “He” promised fellatio, “He” promised f***ing. “He” may or may not have promised Fisting, I can not say for that would be strictly speculation. However, you and I can both imagine that someone who is demented enough to play this sort of mind game with another human being would, in fact, mention something that perverse. That and the fact that he promised so many other things that began with the letter “F.”


According to a mixture of old wives’ tales and bare facts science, if you are “naughty” over fifty percent of the time in a given year, Santa Clause will not deliver presents for your to excitedly open on December 25th. He has a list, and he checks it. Twice. Even Kris Kringle has a point at which he says “enough is enough.” Kris Kringle has it, you and I have it, and so did Louis William Conradt. L.W.C.’s line that he would not cross was meeting this “boy” in person. He was fine with keeping “Him” company by chatting with him online. He had done so for hours. He was fine with explaining the art of seduction, how to properly deep throat, and many other life lessons that he assumed the “boy’s” father was neglecting to share. However, enough was enough.


But alas, enough was not enough for the tyrannous Dateline. When Mr. Conradt repeatedly refused to come to them, they came to him. On one fateful day that would shock the nation, Dateline NBC’s camera crew swarmed the residence of Conradt’s Rockwell County, TX home. Labeling him a predator, a “wannabe child molester”, they camped outside of his home taunting him to come out, much as they had attempted to lure him into boyhood bedfellows. Confused, scared, and embarrassed, Louis William Conradt did what any red-blooded American would do. He did not give his attackers the time of day or the satisfaction of parading him on TV screens across the country. No, that historic afternoon, Mr. Conradt shot himself to death in that very home.


A man senselessly dead, just so NBC can gain even more ratings. It’s not even just about television ratings anymore. It’s grown more than that. It’s become a movement. A movement spearheaded by “The Czar of Boylove”, Chris Hanson. A movement that has to be stopped. Dare I say that this almost a form of sexual terrorism? I do believe I just dared to. I believe that our current “War on Terror” is a war on all terrors, not just a select few…and this, my friends, should be included.


Now I will be the first to admit that when this show was created, they intended to do a noble deed. Catching predators is indeed something that is important. We all learned that from Carl Weathers and Arnold Schwarzenegger in 1987. Why it took the media so long to catch on to this importance I don’t know, but I suppose we should just be happy that they did. They can turn invisible and have lasers on their shoulders, for God’s sake. Something needs to be done.


However, at some point during the conception of their modus operandi, things got turned around. Much like an autoimmunity disease within the human body, Chris Hanson and his legion of lackeys have started attacking the good guys. It’s become a case of mistaken identity with dire consequences.


Granted, this particular case in question is a rarity. The majority of the time, the predator (read: victim) enters the home thinking he is going to meet the person he has been chatting with online. It is then that their world is turned upside-down and they realize a cruel joke has been played on them. Chris Hansen, A.K.A. Lord Chastity greets them instead, questioning their intent before informing them that they have been “uncovered” in a sting operation and are free to go. Upon exiting the home, they are quickly surrounded and pounced upon by police agents who arrest them.


These men being singled out by these sting operations are not the bad guys. These are people trying to do the right thing. Trying to lend a helping hand to someone who very much seems to need their help. Helping a stranger, isn’t that what good will towards man-kind is all about?


A lot of these men are pillars of their respective communities. Teachers, police officers, firemen, guidance counselors, NASA engineers, mayors, priests, rabbis, men of all of the other “cloths.” Do you think that in their “dream afternoon” this is how they would be spending their time? Traveling hundreds of miles to meet someone they very well may have never even seen a picture of, just spend some quality time with them because they are under the impression that their parents neglect them? No, there are a countless number of other things they would rather be doing, but they make that sacrifice. They take time out of their busy lives to go there and try to make some child’s day just a little better. You’re going to penalize and prosecute them for that? What’s next, raiding The Make a Wish Foundation? God forbid a child smiles or feels a sense of importance and being wanted now-a-days.


To add insult to injury; everyone involved, from the camera crew to the host to the police officers waiting in the bushes (literally, a man in full Swamp Thing attire will jump out of shrubbery to tackle you) are heralded as courageous heroes. Are you kidding me? Trapping someone in your complex maze of deception is courageous? What about the courage of the men who go there? Do you know how nerve-wracking it must be on the way to the house? All the thoughts that must go there poor minds? Agreeing to do some of sick and twisted things that the decoys bring up, involving whip cream and house hold pets? Giving of yourself to better others, that is courage, my friends.


I’ll even play devil’s advocate for a moment here. Let’s just say that somehow the men are the ones who initiate the conversation and bring all of these things up. Can you blame them for the turns that the conversations take? Have you seen the chat logs and the things that these supposed young boys say? They are little sexual dictionaries. They know things that you and I could never dream of. That, and they are persistent and convincing. The mindset of these lads, they just don’t give up. The play the pity card over and over until they get to see a picture of someone’s penis. Add to that the fact that the majority of them look like thirteen year old girls, with their skin-tight girl pants and their mutli-colored feminine hair styles and their eyeliner…it’s a recipe for seduction. I, as a law-abiding and God fearing man would never give in, but I can see how a weaker person may stray and succumb to the temptation.


Look, I could list the injustices of this program for pages and pages to come. I’m sure you could debate them for just as long as well. So for the sake of your eyes, I’m going to make one more point and then rest my case. I was under the impression that we all learned a lesson from Vietnam. Our soldiers came home, only to find ridicule for fighting the good fight, and a realization that they had no home. Apparently we learned no lesson, though, because what happened to them is once again happening to these modern day heroes.


To Catch a Predator, huh? Maybe they should change the name to To Entrap a Patriot.


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