Hi, this is Jon Katz. You may remember me as a writer for Wired magazine, as well as the author of Geeks, the story of two boys from Idaho who used their knowledge of computers and the Internet to find a better life. I’m filling in today for Phil X. He’s gone off to see “The Passion,” hoping to be the third person to die while watching it. But the odds are good that he’ll be back tomorrow, writing away furiously like always.

For today, while I’m here, we’ll be addressing a subject which I have become the unofficial advocate of, and which has made me a good deal of money: social outcasts. You’ll remember that in my book, I wrote about geeks, and the growing pains they often go through. Bullying, social rejection—we all know how in high school, the land of cliques, blandness is rewarded while those who are different are scorned. But the point of my book was that our technology-dependant society ultimately rewards geeks. Those who grew up on the outside looking in often end up comfortable and well-adjusted. In summary: It’s okay to be a geek.

But while we may be living in the era of the Geek Ascension, there are other social groups who aren’t doing nearly as well. You may have heard about the gorilla which got out of its cage at a Chicago zoo, then viciously attacked a group of teenagers. Zoo workers tried to sedate the animal, but when that didn’t work, cops opened fire, killing it.

Here’s what you may not have known about the incident: According to witnesses at the Chicago zoo, the teenagers whom the gorilla attacked had been taunting it. Bullying it, in other words. Yet the media has trying its hardest to portray the gorilla as the monster, much the way it did with Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold, the two high school kids who planned, then carried out the Columbine Massacre.

Yes, PTA members out there, you’re absolutely right. Bullying happens in our society, in every society. But the question is, how many dead bodies is it going to take, how many homicidal rampages by geeks and apes is it going to take, to make us realize that something is definitely wrong with our public schools, and with the values of our young people, which cause these tragedies to keep happening?

We need answers, derived from honest, thought-provoking debate, and that is what I am calling for today. The last thing we need is simplistic villain-painting by the media. Only yesterday, I posted on my own blog regarding the Chicago tragedy, and the response was overwhelming. Of the hundreds of e-mails I received overnight, from individuals who knew what it was like to “grow up ape” in America, many still suffered from deep-seeded wounds, and others looked back on their traumatic childhoods with self-lacerating humor. Collectively, however, they admitted that they would probably “never get over” what they endured, and hoped no one else would have to have it nearly as bad.

What follows is the e-mail I received from “D,” who “grew up ape” in America during the 80’s. “D’s” is the most optimistic story. He has a successful career now, but admits that the bullying he endured in his youth adversely affected him in his later life…

“…Hi, Jon. I really hope my story can help someone who’s in a similar situation.

“I didn’t have a lot of friends when I was growing up. My only friend was this girl named Daisy, and looking back, I suppose I was way too overprotective of our relationship. See, there were these two Italian guys who lived in our neighborhood, Mario and Luigi. They always carried themselves like they were big shots because their father was a plumber and very successful. They were always showing off, trying to impress Daisy. Also, they were part of the “in-crowd:” Samus, Kid Icarus, Link, Princess Zelda. Who could blame Daisy for wanting to be part of that clique? Gradually, she hung out less with me, and more with that Mario guy.

“Looking back, I’m ashamed how mad it made me. Daisy was the only one who made me feel that I wasn’t just some big ugly gorilla who worked part-time in the neighborhood carnival. One day Mario and I got into it. I grabbed Daisy, took her up to the top floor of the building I lived in, and as Mario came up after us, I rolled barrels down the stairwell at him. To this day, I don’t know what those barrels were doing on the top floor of that apartment building—It really doesn’t seem to make any sense. But thank God no one got hurt from my boorish behavior. Daisy never spoke to me again, and later she moved away and inexplicably changed her name to Peach. But I was in a real funk for a while.

“For so long after that incident, whenever Mario and his buddies saw me, they’d go “Ooo! Ooo! Ooo!” and do gorilla dances. And every now and then, some jerk would come up to me and say, ‘Hey, I know you! You’re the big ape who threw barrels at Mario!’ My self-esteem got so low that I started thinking, ‘Hey, you’re right. All I am is a big dumb gorilla who’s only good for barrel tossing.’ But then I got into professional cart racing, where my size has some benefits, and I’ve become much more comfortable with myself.

“So I guess my message for anyone out there who’s having a rough time growing up ape themselves is: Accept yourself for who you are. Don’t let the jerks with the fancy blue suspenders and magic mushrooms bring you down.” –D. Kong

Thanks, “D.” Hopefully, we’ll be able to address the trials and tribulations associated with “growing up ape” for as long as I’m filling in for Phil X. We can talk about the trials and tribulations of being a geek, too, if you want. Anything involving outcasts! I’m your advocate!