Socialism and bad little girls

This is why I’m convinced that socialism is hopeless. I mean, yes, there’s all the historical evidence against it, and, of course, the economic theories that shred its logic all to pieces. But at the end of the day, the primary problem is that it assumes humans are somehow malleable.

The nature versus nurture debate will probably never end, but there are certain things that even the most casual observer can’t help but notice. Four years ago, I first encountered a pretty little girl who lives near us. She was the sort of little girl you’d consider to have the promise of adult prettiness, though she wasn’t a winner of the genetic lottery to the extent of the three blondies of The Couple You Want To Hate But Can’t Because They’re So Doggone Nice or the two china-perfect daughters of our friends Yes, I Used To Model and her husband I’m Very Handsome, If A Bit Cheesy, But You Have To Admit That It Works For Me.

I don’t know how old this girl was, as I don’t pay enough attention to children to be able to distinguish ages very well, but she was probably eight or nine. It was impossible to ignore her, though, as she prevented you from doing so by methodically staring at every male in the vicinity, of all ages, until they looked back at her. She also had an expression while doing this that I can only describe as feline. Now, it’s possible that she was somehow taught this behavior, but I don’t think so as it wasn’t exhibited by any of the other young girls around, most of whom were a year or two older than her and were just going about their young girl business. I distinctly remember thinking: that one’s going to be trouble.

Fast forward to last week. I was walking down the street when I noticed a girl literally sprawled forward on the hood of a motorcycle next to the sidewalk. I didn’t recognize her at first, but it turned out to be the same young girl, apparently talking to the boy on the motorcycle. However, she was looking around almost everywhere except at him; when she glanced at me as I walked by, I had to look away before I burst out laughing. The look on her face was precisely the same semi-cunning, self-satisfied expression that it had been four years before.

We are what we are. It takes a divine force, a higher power, to even allow us to change that somewhat. Socialism, in setting itself against human nature, is a hopeless impossibility. No wonder the attempts to realize it fully inevitably lead to bloodshed.