The Deconstructed Bully

An Allegory

by Alan Morrison
(NoStoneUnturnedWordshop)




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IN MY COLLEGE, there was a bully. Not an unusual occurrence, you may think. But the circumstances
surrounding this bully were so extraordinary that they merit deconstruction. For this bully was able
to seduce almost all the teachers there into believing that he was not only a paragon of virtue but
also that it was HE who was the victim of any bullying!

But let me begin at the beginning

When examining the background of any maladjusted human being, one has to consider the genetic
as well as the environmental elements. Cain Areets was a troubled young man who came from a
long line of dysfunctional antecedents. Throughout previous generations across very many centuries
his ancestors had a history of rampant exploitation of others alternating with cries of victimisation as
they suffered the backlash which would inevitably come from those who had been the object of
their heartless exploitation. This chronological record had taken its toll on their genetic makeup
imbuing them with both an almost psychopathic disdain for others and a mentality which cried
Victim! if those they disdained should react negatively. They never regarded their own behaviour
as precipitating the backlash which would come from others. They were programmed only to see
themselves as victims.

The way that they behaved towards others treating them as lesser humans (indeed they referred
to those who were not of their stock as being impure) and always setting themselves apart as if
they were something special (as if they has been supernaturally chosen to be some kind of master-
race) meant that they were often despised and ill-judged wherever they went. But, rather than
learning how their behaviour made them unpopular in the eyes of others and subsequently changing
themselves to become more humane, outgoing and caring, they always routinely turned a blind eye
to their own collective character deficiencies and as soon as one of their victims complained about
their behaviour they would create a rumpus about how unfairly they were being treated. In other
words, they ignored entirely their own exploitative behaviour and made out as if they were being
bullied themselves when those they had mistreated turned on them. This pattern of abusing others
then playing the victim had repeated itself so often throughout history that it had become a part of
their genetic makeup.

Closer in time, his grandparents had been falsely arrested and so were put in a prison where they
suffered much at the hands of their captors. This filled them with even more bitterness. However,
once they had been freed, rather than being able to empathise with all oppression and injustice
everywhere else in the world, their consciences seemed to be even more cauterised and they began
to oppress others with a renewed sense of entitlement regarding themselves even more as the
victim who deserves ultra-compensation.

This was the history behind Cain Areets and he lived out its implications to the full.

As soon as he arrived in the college, Cain got to work on generating the conditions in which his
unique skillset could thrive. First, he made sure that any others who held sway on the territory he
wanted for himself would be dealt with. He would stop at nothing to get his way and create his
patch. Those who traditionally sold goods in the college or were people of influence would be
threatened to cease and if that didnt work they would be ruthlessly ousted from their stall or
position and beaten. When complaints were made to the college authorities, Cain would sometimes
injure himself and complain that he was the one who had been hurt. Some of the incumbents
actually fought back to protect their patch, which Cain then used as an excuse for his violent
incursions into their space. The college authorities soon began to see Cain as the true victim and
repeatedly said he had every right to defend himself though they did call for restraint (which
Cain never showed, to which they turned a blind eye).
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Cain even cleverly used his connections to set up a rival gang so that he could continually claim to be
the sufferer. The college authorities fell for this tactic and heaped all their castigation on this gang
instead of Cain. Some pupils and a couple of teachers began to see through Cains strategies and
started to print articles and make remonstrations with the college authorities; but those authorities
were so incensed that they created an official new college rule which stated that anyone making
allegations of bullying against Cain Areets, or who brought up his antecedents, or who tried to
minimise what his grandparents suffered in prison, would be guilty of hate speech and penalised
with exclusion, expulsion and ultimately would become the subject of action by departments of
criminal law.

Cain Areets revelled in the security which he enjoyed through these sanctions and managed to carry
on his rampant bullying and protection rackets. Many students and even teachers afraid of
castigation or marginalisation in case they might appear to disapprove of Cains bullying ways
realised that they could boost their standing in the college by supporting Cain against any of his
detractors. Supportive pupils would receive favourable exam results while supportive teachers
would find themselves automatically put forward for promotion and get it. College societies were set
up, the sole role of which was to continually watch out for any violations of the rule forbidding
criticism of Cain and also to counteract any bad publicity which might be spread about him on the
campus or beyond. They gave themselves names such as The Defence of Cain Alliance and
Congress Against the Slander of Cain. They became very powerful in the college, watching
everything everywhere. Acting as a kind of thought police, they missed nothing. People were
afraid of them.

I observed all this over many years and marvelled at the manner in which people could be
manipulated to believe the exact opposite of what was really taking place. It was an extraordinary
work of mind-control through clever PR and disinformation. I made a particular project of getting to
know and understand how the Cain Areets phenomenon worked. I studied him in action. I
interviewed his henchmen. I eavesdropped on teachers meetings about him. I visited his home,
where he lived with his brothers and sisters, in order to understand better the domestic dynamics of
this young man (which were very well-organised and civilised even though there was an air of
ruthlessness, selfishness and a total lack of concern for anyone other than their own family). One
time I even bugged a meeting at his house, which was extremely enlightening as it revealed the true
contempt which Cain and his gang had for the both the rule of law and towards everyone except
themselves. (I was, in fact, related to Cain on my fathers side and had some considerable contact
with him as a child at family gatherings).

I can honestly say that the more I got to know him, the more I came to feel strongly the terrible
possibility that Cain Areets had no soul. This was the only explanation I could find for his inflexible,
materialistic, mendacious and barbaric behaviour.

Cain thought nothing of destroying the lives of others. He even employed a gang of ruthless thugs to
enforce his dominion, known as Subterfuge. Yet, when people pointed out to him no matter
how gently that his grandparents had been the victims of the kind of treatment he was now
meting out to others, the whole college establishment would rush to his defence and accuse them of
hate speech and pass their names to the societies set up to protect his name at all costs and also
to the legal authorities. It was clear that, in the eyes of the college and the law, Cain Areets could do
no wrong, under any circumstances, ever.

Through observing Cain Areets, I came to realise that bullyism is the control freak's paradise. Control
everyone around with fear and use relentless preemptive strikes as a means of imagined protection.
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Even better, play agent provocateur to force your poorly-equipped enemy to strike usually in a
pathetic, disorganised, amateur manner so that you can have what looks on paper like a solid
excuse to retaliate with a massive strike-back which everyone would agree to be justified. After all,
surely people have every right to defend themselves against a rapacious and intractable enemy!
Thus, every time that Cain would take retaliatory or defensive action, the entire establishment
would nod smugly in agreement and support.

I saw how, in that college institution, the manner in which one treated Cain Areets became the
touchstone of how one would fare amongst the establishment. In other words, in order to get on
and be accepted and admired, one had to profess to believe a lie, knowing it to be a lie. Therefore, a
sycophantic culture of grovelers based on a climate of fear and lies was cultivated en masse. All that
was necessary in order to succeed and prosper was to see Cain as the victim and never recognise the
least aspect of the bully in him or the injustice he heaped on others. If anyone complained about his
bullying, they must be disbelieved, accused of hate speech and publicly humiliated.

Such was the twisted culture nurtured in that college society. In this way, over a period of time,
darkness began to masquerade successfully as light.

On one occasion I managed to get a number of teachers and members of the board to see what was
really going on. We gathered much evidence and we were due to present it at a special tribunal. As
soon as I saw them there, lined up in the anteroom to the tribunal, with their deplorably apologetic
faces and hangdog expressions, I knew that they had been got at. One by one, they gave evidence
that Cain was a fine upstanding man in every way who contributed much to college life and was the
epitome of generosity and magnanimity. (I learned through this that most people in that college
were far more concerned about preserving their reputations and their standing in society rather
than upholding truth, justice and righteousness). As I was then the only one giving evidence against
Cain, the case was dismissed and I was branded as a barefaced liar and conspiracy nut.

I resolved to take some further action and so, one day, when I had summoned up enough courage, I
approached Cain Areets in an empty corridor. Just him accompanied by two of his thugs agents,
he called them a sad pair of specimens who would be lizards in a sewer if they hadnt been
elevated to bodyguards for this empty shell of an overgrown boy. I put my hand on his shoulder,
looked him squarely in the eye and said:

Cain, isnt it high time you dropped this bully-boy stance? Youre just a frightened,
vulnerable, weak and cowardly boy whos adopted a way of life to make you feel on top.
Ive got to hand it to you youve created the perfect cover for your evil deeds. The instant
someone criticises you in any way whatsoever no matter how mildly you make out as
if youre the victim by accusing them of discrimination and hate speech, trotting out the
story about your wrongly imprisoned grandparents and thus deflecting the attention from
yourself and onto your critics. Its a clever move; but its all based on lies and deception.
You know this. I know this. And there are others who can see right through you. You cant
fool everyone. And if even one person knows the truth, then youve failed.

The word failed, which I deliberately spat out of my lips (I swear a drop of my saliva went on his
sleek, mohair suit), triggered something inside Cain which was like an out-of-control sandstorm in
the desert. His face turned bright red and he grabbed my clothes haphazardly like a drowning
creature clutching for air and put his twisted face into mine.

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Listen to me, you smug piece of shit. Ive seen the way you hang around spying on me. But
I couldnt give a toss. I dont care what you know. No one would believe you anyway. We
already own everyone. Your cock isnt going to save you here.

A sneering emphasis was on the word cock. Then he nodded to the two guys by his side, one of
whom wrapped his arm round my throat from behind and began to squeeze with all his might. As he
did, the door opened beside him and standing there by prearrangement was a friend of mine and
two senior members of the college board, one of whom had a digital recorder. Immediately, Cain
gave a sign and the goon withdrew his arm from my throat. Speaking with a silky voice, Cain smiled
at the people in the doorway and said Just sorting out this bully, jerking his thumb in my direction.
Gotta keep law and order round here. Then he ambled off down the corridor followed closely by
his two cronies, murmuring in a low gangsteresque voice: Theres too many think their cocks will
save them. Theyre gonna be sucking on their dicks in a concrete overcoat.

At least some people now knew the truth about Cain. It wasnt that we wanted him to be punished
or beaten but that he should realise and confess the truth, abandon his evil ways and make
reparations to all those who hed hurt and oppressed over the years. Although my friend did once
say, in a weaker moment, that he could happily see the likes of Cain wiped off the face of the earth.
That was after hed witnessed a series of particularly brutal attacks by Cain in a side-street on some
weak and helpless old people and children. However, revenge or retaliation changes nothing,
whether served hot or cold. If there is no development of self-awareness in a bully, there can be no
change. And we were hoping for change.

However, in our naivet, we underestimated the depths of Cains subterfuge. Within 24 hours, he
had published photographs and documents purporting to show that I, my friend and the two board
members were engaged in a conspiracy to cause damage in the college, claiming we were going to
blame Cain for it. Everyone was duly outraged and we were of course accused of hate-speech and
hate-actions. The rogue board members were sacked and my friend and I were expelled from the
college.

Later, I realised that this bully/victim switch was endemic across the world. But hardly anyone would
tackle it head-on because of the hold that the bullies had over them. They knew that they would
either lose their jobs or be calumniated by Cains PR machine or be relentlessly hounded by his
enforcement wing, Subterfuge. In the ensuing years, Cain had extended his grip on many areas of life
beyond that college: I grew tired of it all the constant struggle to show others the truth and get
them to stand up for it. So I relocated to the wilderness, where I am to this day, always mindful of
the admirable Captain Nemos words in the film of Jules Vernes novel, Mysterious Island: Contact
with my own species has always disappointed me. Solitude gives me a freedom of mind and an
independence of action.

SEVEN YEARS LATER

A little over seven years after my relocation, I was told an extraordinary story by a close friend who
visited my wilderness retreat, not wanting to communicate the information by any other means.
This originated with Cains gardener and I believe it to be the truth. (The gardener, it should be
added, met an untimely death when his car exploded near Al Kiswah on the road to Damascus, while
fleeing to Europe. The circumstances surrounding that event have never been clarified but it was
portrayed in the media as death caused by faulty mechanism, after the verdict of the inquest and
the findings of the local police. Knowing Cain and the skulduggery of his Subterfuge organisation
and taking into account the significance of what the gardener had witnessed and later transmitted, I
doubt that this crash was an accident).
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Apparently, late one evening, Cains trusted gardener (whose job was to maintain a vast acreage of
greenery in desert surroundings) had been quietly enjoying a cigar in a garden chair when he was
surprised by a strange, powerful light coming from Cains bedroom. He knew it could not have been
an ordinary electric light. It seemed to have an otherworldly quality and the glass of the window was
rattling loudly. He quickly fetched a ladder and climbed up to have a look. Through a thin gap in the
curtains he could see what appeared to be a huge ball of pulsating light rotating and hovering over
the opulent bed of Cain. From the midst of this ball of light came a booming, primordial voice which
seemed to be on a frequency to which he was entirely unaccustomed as if he was hearing the
voice through something other than his physical ears.

At first, apparently, Cain had reached for his gun and emptied the whole chamber into the ball of
light, which not only absorbed the bullets but also the noise of the gun as well as his cries to his
henchmen for help. Then the words from the light came. Here they are, exactly as written in an
email by the gardener (who had somehow miraculously recalled all the details with extraordinary
clarity) to my friend:

Cain, Cain, you cannot deal with me as you have with so many others, brushing me aside
with dismissive contempt. I AM the conscience you have suppressed. I AM the instrument
you have denied all your life. I AM the voice you have disobeyed for so many years. I AM
your creator and your originator. I AM your lawgiver. Many centuries ago I said that you
must treat all those who live among you even those not of your stock as if they are
your own people. I said that if they live among you, you should never mistreat them but
love them as you love yourself. This was a pattern for you to maintain an orderly, loving
society. But you have not done those things. I said that you should not bear grudges or
take revenge against others but that you should love your neighbour as yourself. But you
have not done those things. I said that you should live a life of purity; yet you condone and
control so much in this world which leads to evil and heartache. I said that you should not
take advantage of others and that you should especially look after the poor and
defenceless. These you have neglected also. I have come to you again and again and
pleaded with you in many guises angelic and human yet you have rejected me every
time. Why, Cain? Why?

Cain Areets had by now propped himself up in bed. His initial shock and fear had receded and he
began to berate the ball of light, waving and pointing wildly at it:

Ha! You think Im a fool already? This is some kind of hologram trickery. Whoever is
behind this you wont get away with it. We will hunt you down. We will find you and we
will kill you. That I swear. And as for all that stuff you bring up about centuries ago, it
doesnt wash with me. If you were my creator, as you call yourself, you would not have left
me and my ancestors to suffer so much. So even if you are real, I dont need you now for
anything. You deserted me so I deserted you.

Cain shouted that last sentence even more loudly than the rest. Beside himself, he waved his fists at
the light with an exaggerated expression of contempt on his face. Then the light replied:

Cain, Cain, you still refuse to see it you still insist on playing the victim instead of
confessing the extent of your own evil towards others which then led to you experiencing
what it is to be a victim. I never deserted you. You brought all your suffering on yourself
through your own injustice to others because you allowed your love to grow cold. I never
deserted you. It was you who alienated me through your refusal to live by my ways of
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goodness and bounty. You had freewill to accept or refuse my simple laws of life. You
chose to refuse them. I told you what would be the blessings if you accepted my simple
words. I warned you what would be the result of a refusal to walk with me. All of that
came to pass with the most terrible sufferings. Yet, instead of learning from that as you
are supposed to do through all the lessons of suffering you still continue to reject me,
even setting up your own polluted patch in that college and then wider in the world to
oppress others and steal, cheat, connive, instead of accepting that you should remain
scattered to the winds in humility and love until I will restore all things. Cain Areets, I will
now leave you and not show my face to you again until that time. Then your face will drop
to the ground when you see the truth of the words I have spoken to you again and again.

Instantly, the light disappeared and a profound silence filled the room. Cain was drenched in sweat
not through fear but through anger. No one could speak to him in that manner and get away with
it. He was seething with rage. The culprit behind this prank must be found. Rawshaaaa! he yelled
for his bodyguard.

At this, the gardener crept back down the ladder and went to his house. What he had witnessed had
filled him with a terrible sense of awe and longing. He threw himself to floor and wept. For the first
time in his life he felt as if he wanted to pray, though he knew not yet to who or to what. A vast
sense of emptiness filled his soul. It had been so long since it had been nourished. He had wondered
at times if he even had a soul. At least he now knew that he did. He also knew he had to escape.
There was no place for him there anymore. He had friends in Switzerland. Thats where he would go.

The next morning, he noticed huge movements on the estate but tried to look as calm as he could.
He reported that he needed to go to his sick sister in Europe and could he be granted a weeks leave.
His boss looked at him strangely but granted it. So the gardener threw a few things into his car and
left. And that was the last that anyone saw of him (although I also heard that he had been spotted in
a caf, a few hours before his car exploded, in the little town of Al Sheikh Maskin with tears
streaming down his face which, according to witnesses, seemed to be glowing).

This is what was reported to me by my friend when he came to visit. I swear it is all true. Since then,
from what has filtered through to me, it is as if that night-time visit of light only cauterised the
conscience of Cain even more, as his power and ability to deceive increased and fear was spread
throughout the land.

The last I heard on the grapevine to my wilderness retreat was that Cain was training law
enforcement agencies around the world in what they refer to as counter-terrorism techniques.
We know, though, that this phrase is a euphemism for anti-dissident manoeuvres. For the state
(the real bully) will always play the victim and claim that it needs to protect and defend itself against
dissidents whom it calls terrorists but who are really ordinary people who see through
governmental chicanery and who are no longer prepared to be oppressed and downtrodden by
corrupt states and institutions. The bully/victim switch will then have found its ultimate
manifestation.




Alan Morrison, 2014
4064 words
nostoneunturnedwordshop@gmail.com