Social Darwinism

Today I saw a fat kid bullying another fat kid. Normally I wouldn't have paid much attention to a couple of neighborhood kids practicing the time honored tradition of "bully and prey." However, it struck me as odd that both of these future diabetics seemed to be cut from a similar socio-economic cloth as well as waddling from the same Ben and Jerry's filled gene pool. In most instances the aggressor has some sort of physical or status superiority which grants him an advantage over an individual of lessor claims. Take the "special needs" kid in gym class for example; you know for a fact that as soon as the whistle is blown every dodge-ball in the room will be air mailed to his melon. Sadly, there is an unwritten hierarchy that was established long ago that ensures that at some point in your life you are going to get punished for your shortcomings. From guys who stayed home on Saturday nights to knit scarves for their cats to anyone whose ever confessed to owning an album by ABBA, everyone has been a target at one point or another. In my day the hierarchy appeared something like this:
1)Jocks/heads
2)hipsters
3)bookworms
4)band members/chorus
5)guys who had posters of Eric Estrada in their lockers
6)Team Short Bus

This is not to say that you could not fall into multiple categories. I was actually the quarterback on my junior high football team and sang in the school chorus. You just learn to take your lumps when half the team shows up and sits in the front row to bust your balls during a concert. You then took out your frustration by giving an atomic wedgie to the lead trombone after the show. Order restored.
I think as you age you become less and less aware of the differences that separate and begin to explore those differences that engage. You no longer find yourself trying to, well, find yourself and are more apt to be open to those that are downright fucking bizarre. By bullying yourself into a social pecking order you surround yourself with individuals of similar attitudes and interests. After a while you discover that your life has become as interesting as a loaf of white bread. I envy those individuals young enough and strong enough not to buy into the rules of order that stipulate that only a certain drumbeat can be marched to. I am also discovering that it is never to late to free your mind of this fallacy.
As the two kids chased each other across the front lawn of a neighboring house I noticed that the lead man had a bag of chips clenched tightly in his fist. Explanation gained, theory held.