"InsidiOUS"

  Oh, all that.

  That amounted to people beating the fuck out of each other in the woods.  Let me repeat the . at the end of that sentence.

It was essentially the same exercise as people lined up to scream "Insidious" at each other about hate and/or love.

  To each his/her/  own.  That really is the American way.  We uphold property laws when possible.

  All that was thirty years ago anyway.

  As it had not been the point of me going camping, the story about the coal box made of stone was not about the hate and violence all around.  Not even about how those sentiments take form.  It was about the love that "fathers" have for "children".  Marsha's "father"/the hunter guy a bunch of us adopted got the innocents out of the trailer; dug a tunnel to do it; stayed in there for more than one night smuggling out people-hostages/prisoners thrown in there, and really bad people....they made a hands across the woods to catch the bad people!  He also collected and locked in a drawer in there all the drugs and alcohol people were stashing in there as the rallies turned into boxing ring/stage.  Total hero.  He was also able to help the misfit/runaway/tribal children connect with the variety of artists, psychologists, medical people who came to help with situation.

  I stayed a few days past all the negativity and guarded my tent while that guy slept for like 17 hours; then found a good coal in the coalbox of the restored fire ring!  That was really cool and beautiful.