Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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Che ©amecock YNKE 123: Understanding poverty I have to admit I’m a pig when I walk home from the Hardee’s in Five Points. I can’t stand that Taylor Marshall Green is a featured columnist and can be reached at gamecockviewpoints ©hotmail.com. redneck flour and-water mix they call biscuits nor do I order their wren-sized drumsticks. I usually indulge in the Frisco burger — that square shaped sponge of lard is delicious. By the time I get to Eckerd’s Drugstore, I have half of the Frisco burger’s white, unmelted cheese painted on my shoes, two fries held between my fingers and another hand digging for more. My cneelcs scan tne nonzon tor any signs of friends who might be anxious to blackmail me with this scene, but all I can see is the same thing day-in and day-out. Three guys are moping about in front of the Elbow Room. It’s this landmark on the journey home that pisses me off the most. The stupid panhandlers. The minute they think they can extract cash from the mindless wanderer, they move in. It wouldn’t be that bad if they weren’t so unmanipulative with their schpiel. But have you heard some of the lies these guys and gals come up with? Guy with pink, mesh hat: “Hey brother! How’s it going today? It’s hot as hell isn’t it?” **Guy with pink mesh hat is completely ignored** Guy with pink mesh hat: “Hey bro’. I got my family up the road in the station wagon, you know, and we outta’ gas, and I need like two bucks to get some gas... you think you could help this man? Oh shit... you shop at Bi-Lo, too ... oh man, now that’s the store. Can ya’ help?” Me: “Sorry, I don’t give handouts.” This is the point in the relationship where he makes a beeline for the next victim. No questions asked. I mean, where do these guys get off asking people to pass them money? I know it’s been said before — loudly and softly and sternly and passively — but get a fuckin’ job. It’s the South that creates these poor children of the hand-me-out. The South has no idea ot what it s like to be set straight. Down here, the hobo is given change from a sorority girl, who needs to feel better about herself. Or from her boyfriend, who’s only trying to impress. It’s like they see a big, orange Unicef box wandering the streets. Generally, you would never be approached in the North for money, unless it was your cousin trying to get change for a bigger fountain soda. The homeless and needy from the North help the funds come in via Maxwell House cans, guitar cases, top hats and patience. There’s never small talk or hidden agendas thrown at you. You can decide on your own whether you’d like to talk about the weather or whether to spot the teenage mother a quarter. The morons down here attack you in droves. They remind me bf taxi drivers in the Tijuana market area. Woman with ripped crotch and burnt lips: “Hey, quarter?! You got a quarter?! I need a quarter you got a quarter?!” But see, the difference between the taxi drivers and bums of Five Points is that the Tijuana taxi drivers would be thankful for a fifty-cent piece. The schmucks in Five Points suck their teeth and murmur while walking away. The biggest pain in my ass is when they try to get my attention from the other side of Five Points. I’ll be walking past the Parthenon, and I’ll hear, from Groucho’s: “Hey! Hey Man?! Yo! Yo! HEY! HEY MAN?! YOU HEAR ME!?... HEY!” I have now gotten into my apartment, and I can still hear the wails of this amateur. So I say to myself, “Yes, I can hear you.” How much do these guys pull in? It can’t be much. I mean, does this shit really hoodwink people? I’ve lived in Five Points for three years, so I know these guys by face. I had the same guy approach me for change within five minutes. What about my money? I’ve sold CDs to pay rent, four times. So the next time some jack-off steps up, asking for change, in Five Points, this is what I’m going to say... “Sorry, guy, no-can-do. But if you’re hungry you can have the half slice of white-American on my Nike. All yours.” Execution CONTINUED FROM PAGE 4 The government made the right decision to execute McVeigh, but I think he got off too easy by receiving lethal injection. He should’ve been put to death the same way he murdered those innocent people who were just going about their business at work on that fateful day. Yes, that’s right. I think McVeigh should have been put in a shack in the middle of some field with a bomb in it — a bomb that would explode when he least expected it. I know the “eye for an eye” form of punishment is a bit ancient, but there should have been an exception in this case. But regardless, Timothy McVeigh deserved to die. The world is a much better place with him gone. Don’t agree with what we’re saying? Let your voice be heard. Send a letter to the editor. E-mail us at gamecockviewpoints@hotmail.com The 'devil's nectar' should be for all ages My uncle used to be the preacher of a very conservative southern Baptist church. He used to have code words for the topics he didn’t wish to discuss explicitly. He had a code word for alcohol. Instead of saying booze or liquor, he would call it the devil s nectar, a name that, for good or bad, defies file substance. As a young adult and current college student, I'empathized with the president’s daughter, Jenna Bush, when I found out she had been caught attempting to use a fake ID to purchase the “devil’s nectar” in Texas. Though it might have been reckless and irresponsible behavior on her part, I firmly believe what’s really at issue here is the outdated law that allows young adults to have the same rights as all adults, with one senseless exception — the right to consume alcohol. . When a child reaches the age of 18, he or she is told they have successfully crossed over the threshold of adulthood and they’re now entitled to the same inalienable rights all adults enjoy. They can join the military, or possibly be drafted into it. They’re “adult” enough to come home in body bags or with missing body parts, but a sip of the devil’s nectar, they can in no way consume. Young adults are given the right to vote. They’re “adult” enough to elect the man who will control public policy for the next four years, and with judicial appointees, for the next 40 years. They’re responsible enough to make an intelligent decision on something of this magnitude, but a sip of the devil’s nectar, they can in no way consume. Young adults are even allowed to smoke. They’re “adult” enough to inhale and exhale all the tar, nicotine and chemicals Phillip Morris can pack into a cigarette. Under threat of lung cancer and a smorgasbord of other catalysts for early death, young adults are invited to smoke ‘til their heart’s content. They’re responsible enough to handle the known consequences, but-a sip of the devil’s nectar, they can in no way consume. Why is this? Why can’t reasonable, responsible “adults” imbibe? I remember a time during the past century when reasonable, responsible adults were denied access to the “devil’s nectar.” It was called Prohibition. There was a time during Prohibition when organized crime thrived in the interest of alcohol. The most notorious gangster of all, A1 “Scarface” Capone, had men butchered over the right to sell the “devil’s nectar.” If this is the way adults behaved during the last prohibition, then why is it surprising when young adults behave the way Jenna Bush does during this “youth prohibition?” in a iree society, wnen loiai freedom is denied, total chaos ensues. As history would indicate, denial of reasonable rights only causes the members of society to lust for those rights all the more, even to the point of murder or, in this case, deceit and fake IDs by the president’s daughter. Abolition of “youth prohibition” will bring about the end of fraud and overindulgence by most young adults. It will bring about the end of the perception by most young adults that drinking is cool because it’s against the law. And it will allow young adults to enjoy the freedoms that all adults hold dear. i a HKe to tmnK tms was a carefully orchestrated scheme by Jenna Bush, an elaborate attempt to galvanize the public and draw attention to this injustice. I’d like to think that it was all a skillful publicity stunt that worked to perfection — a stroke of genius by all accounts. But let’s face it. Genius hasn’t exactly been known to run in the family. Let’s just put it this way: Jenna wanted booze, a sip of the “devil’s nectar” that adults ages 18 20 still can in no way consume. Darryl Green is a'featured columnist and can be reached at gamecockviewpoints ©hotrna il.com.