What the past few weeks have reminded me is that human beings, without morals to guide them, are animals. 
I'm not just talking about what's happened at Ravelry, so chill for a moment.  There's also other websites lately where I've seen folk bicker for no good reason, although thankfully, that died down a bit.  Then there's real life,  which is just as bad.  Adults,  in my opinion, act just like kids, but with different tactics.

When I was in kindergarten, I got along with most of my classmates, except one girl that looked like Jean-Benet Ramsey.  She needed to show she was the best.  I didn't quite get her.  The school for my zone was under construction, so I was only temporarily in her school anyway.
First through second,  being in a most Caribbean neighborhood,  I went to a school where I was one of the lightest girls.  I was in an "eagle" class, as they would call it.  There was one girl who was Hispanic and since we had similar looks and brains, she decided I was her competition.  Anyone in her clique would talk in my face and be generally nasty.  I started to dislike it, so I transferred out to a school in another neighborhood. 
I didn't know there were hick neighborhoods in Brooklyn, but there are.  By that time, regardless of my dance classes, I was fat.  Because of my skin color, I was dirty.  Because of my hair texture,  I was called "Afro," at times.  They called me various names on a daily basis and would often kick my legs until they were black and blue.  This one girl, named Jessica said to me one day, "Thank you for being here.  Before it was you,  it was me."  She was happy there was a new target and she let me know it. 
In this hick school, one day, I decided I was going to make the extra effort to be friendly, so I brought Mastermind to school.  I played Mastermind with one of the girls in my class.  Halfway through, the boys decided to scatter my pieces everywhere.  I went after the boys and the school aide yelled at me.  She then decided to have me go sit at an empty table at the other side of the cafeteria, between two kindergarten classes.  If I so much as said hello to any of the kindergarteners, she'd say,  "Don't you talk to my kindergarteners."
I was on an indefinite "time out" and I was to learn that I was the problem.

Eventually, a school counselor decided that once a week,  I could have lunch with her in her office and eventually I started to teach her how to play chess.  After a few weeks, she found out from me what had happened and got the school aide to move all the girls in my class to my table.  All of the girls resented me for that. 

By the time I made it to junior high, I became quite a fighter and was suspended every other month or so for self defense.  Up until the 8th grade,  I had maybe one or two friends but the authorities thought I had none.  I then decided I would dress like a gangsta bitch and do things that people found entertaining.  Which is where I made friends with wiggers who would have my back one day and jump into a fight against me the next.  (It was rather fun to see one of them try to fight me one day and piss her pants to see someone from my neighborhood step up to her.) 

One girl transferred into my school in September and was the most hated by October.  I decided that was not enough time to build up such hatrd and I became her friend.  At that point, none of the girls would fight her.

In high school,  our mutual friends found out I converted to Wicca and had me jumped.  She joined in on the fight. 

Then, hilariously, by next week,  all the girls who were snotty towards me at some point, showed up at her house wanting to kick her ass.  Her mother called her house, saying I made them go to her house. 

I'd like to blame it on undeveloped brains or hormones but adults are just as crazy.