Is Paris Burning?

Even with all of the ill-feeling that exists between the French and Americans, I cannot feel anything but sympathy regarding the horrible events taking place in the Parisian suburbs (et al). As the writer Robert D. Kaplan has pointed out on numerous occasions, mix young, under-educated, unemployed males with nothing to do with opportunity...you get Paris burning. Add just a dash of fanaticism (pick a flavor) and you have a tremendously volitile brew.After ten nights of flames, all we can hope for here is that the collateral damage is held to a minimum and that a resolution is within sight. I fear that this is like Pandora's box - once opened...Take a look at various places throughout the world with similar issues (they are numerous) and you'll see that it is not unlike a rock landing in a still pond - the initial splash is quick but the ripple goes outward and can become a wave/wake. I fear that a bloody crackdown is imminent. I hope I am wrong. However, it may be the only correct response.Okay, I'll admit that I go into allegory and metaphor overdose sometimes. It is either that or Jerseyisms.As a young man, I railed against overaggressive governmental authority. I (virtually) never saw a place where it was applicable. I was also blinded by an illogical ideology regarding what freedom meant, in no small part due to a lack of both theoretical and experiential knowledge. This had been especially true when it came to those from outside my own very American cultural experience. Sometimes a carrot is the correct enticement. However, sometimes the stick is the only solution. This is what I had not been able to see clearly.Now when I mention my "very American cultural experience," I mean growing up in Hoboken, N.J. in the shadow of the Empire State Building (which, incidentally, was the view from my bedroom window). Growing up there was like living in a United Nations experiment - there was a grand swath of humanity there when I was a kid. It was also all inside of a square mile. This, in fact, was the epitomy of a term I have grown to dislike - "diversity." It is a word that used to have meaning to it. Just like "volunteering." Now they are just buzzwords.Being a kid in working-class Hoboken (remember when?) was a joy. It was also tinged with a bit of danger, but we kids loved it. Back then, nobody moved to Hoboken. It was too rough. It was an old port city with tales of hoodlums - both talented amateurs and organized professionals.We played with kids from all different parts of the world because Hoboken had always been an immigrant city (albeit today's immigrants tend to be stockbrokers).To me, this is America. People from wherever. "Where are you from?" they ask. "Hoboken" we answered. It was then understood who we were. Nobody got special treatment because we were all in the same pile of shit together and we knew the rules. Because of that fact, fights we has as kids were temporary. In fact, I met my best friend in the world at 12 years old after he punched me in the ear. (Well, I did take his coffee money.) We all had them and we all got over it. If we didn't - Fuck It! Who gives a shit. It was grand. Winners? Sure. Losers? Sure. All temporary. Victims? Nah. Nobody gives a shit regardless, so cowboy up. And we did.Did some people have it bad? Yup. Did some people have it real good? That is an affirmative. That meant we had to be inventive and find a way up or out. We sure as hell didn't set fire to our own communities. Sure as hell sounds like some of those pyro bastards in Paris deserve a collective beatdown. Vive la difference! Now shut the fuck up and follow the rules.