Terrorismists

ISIS has a problem and it’s not what you think. They aren’t being sought out and destroyed with extreme prejudice. They aren’t being adulated by the world as some almighty threat that needs intense scrutiny and attention. They’ve been marginalized and given dirty looks. Ladies and Gentlemen, they have an inferiority complex and we gave it to them. They want to be treated like a dangerous world power. They want the respect a recognized state would receive when pulling such villainous shenanigans.  They want war, but they just get a talking to and lots of inaction. I think we should give them the satisfaction of getting what they want. Face it, they’re not going to stop. You know how they are. And all these stern denouncements on TV are just firing them up. I can hear them now. For all intents and purposes, Pinky and the Brain are ISIS:

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“How many did we kill, Pinky?”

“reports say about 45 right now, Brain”

“What have the Americans said?”

“Stop doing that”

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WWPATBD? An acronym for what would Pinky and the Brain do. The same thing they always do, try again tomorrow. The motivation doesn’t go away and is hardly weakened by world efforts to quash the persistent acts of war waged on the universe. I’m not mistaken, give them space ships and they will attack aliens. They are the frustrated bunch and you’d think we (USA) would be. But there is seemingly nothing they can do that will make us spring into action like the super power we are… or at least used to be. Perhaps one day soon we won’t take their shit anymore. We don’t even hurt them in any way. In fact, we help them by meddling with the power structure of other nations that have in the past helped to check these militant groups and prevented them from spreading like wildfire. They fight on, we move our military further away from them. It’s actual insanity. We have a few choices and the sooner the US figures it out, the better. We either fight them here or we fight them there. We either bounce around the world cleaning up after they inflict mass casualties or we wipe them out, immediately. I’d pick the proactive route.  Currently, we do nothing. You can impose sanctions on an unrecognized state, but they won’t recognize them. They are not a conventional organization so why do we consider conventional methods of dealing with them? It’s wobbly moral ground we stand on, not wanting to attack them for fear of the innocents. What are the people they attack? Guilty of living?  I could go on and on about how we’ve perpetuated their existence and extended their longevity but that would take ages. The problem right now is that we are not giving them the attention they crave and deserve. They need our military’s attention in a bad way and I say we give it to them.

 

Chocolate Death

Of all the ways to die, Svetlana Roslina found the sweetest. The Russian chocolate factory worker fell into a vat of chocolate earlier this week and she did not live to tell the sweet tale. There are conflicting stories circulating surrounding the circumstances of this horrible tragedy. Some say she fell in while adding ingredients to the mix, others say she dropped her mobile phone in the vat and unsuccessfully tried to retrieve it. No one has claimed that she actually wanted to die in a vat of chocolate, though many have admitted to wanting to bathe themselves in chocolate on a daily basis. This is her:

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Svetlana Roslina, a sweetheart

A local source said “She was minced. Only her legs were left.” Minced. This is what minced pork looks like:

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When you hear about someone falling into a vat of chocolate you really want them to come out looking something like this:

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Not this:

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Or this:

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Very sad, she had a husband and two young children. That being said, if you had to die… would a vat of chocolate be that bad? Yes?

Here is the original article: Mother dies after falling into huge vat of melted chocolate

Life is Loud.

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I’ve been thinking a lot about life lately. It was never all roses but there were a few…and now those have started to go bad. The road has been bumpy for me as of late and only now am I regaining my feet. Ever since my mom passed away last year I haven’t been able to do much right. Nothing is the same, nothing will ever be the same. I lost my father 17 years ago but when he went, I still had mom. Now I am an orphan at 36. There were no siblings. So I have an entirely new life right now. It’s not the same in any way. I am different. This is not a new chapter, the book ended. This is a new book. Though this new book started out like an ember in hell, I’ve learned that I am a much stronger reader than I thought. I don’t really have a point here. There is no great revelation… at least not yet. I’m lonely and sad most days, but for me it’s normal. Normal is good. You can get used to normal very quickly. I have a different look in my eyes… I think more than I ever have. I have a thousand yard stare sometimes that I am trying to get rid of, you know the one. A million things going on around you but you are focused on that point in the far distance. I’m still listening, but I stare off. Though I am alone and though I am sad, I am not depressed. That is key to my survival. Life is a series of guaranteed losses, the gains are up in the air. I  want nothing more than to gain a few things in this next book of life. Perhaps a family. Does anyone know where I can find one? Well I am going to make an effort to start writing again. I am thinking much clearer these days. I think I am ready.

 

 

How Do You Piss Off A Dude With One Leg?

Tell him to kick you.

I could be wrong, I actually don’t know if they prefer to stand.

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Naked man collapses, dies in neighborhood rampage | wtsp.com.

That being said, a one Norbert A. Chabannes from Perdido Key, Florida went on a rampage on Monday and then… he died. On his own. Unassisted. He was naked and had one leg. The article was brazen enough to say that he was disabled. But at the same time they say he tried to break into a neighbours house unsuccessfully, then crawled across the street to another house and tried to throw a cinder block through a window. All of these things are symptoms of abled people. The cops showed up and apparently tried to reason with the poor boy to no avail. I wonder how they put it?

“Sir, you have one leg. Cut it out, on your feet… or foot… um, have a seat.”

Norbit, Norbert, same thing.

To back up my declaration of Norbert’s not being disabled (with a name like Norbert, is anyone really surprised that this happened), we have the article state that “Chabannes had earlier arrived at his home Monday and became confrontational with Rochelle Duke – his housekeeper – gouging her eyes and banging her head repeatedly against a wall before she was able to flee.”

This naked one-legged dude had a housekeeper. I’m already jealous. He gouged her eyes and banged her head repeatedly against the wall. I have to call bullshit on this one, they must have been playing some kinky sex game cause a pre-teen could have gotten away from a raging one-legged dude by moonwalking slowly. She made the choice to stay within his strike zone, which by my calculation has to be about an arm’s length in any direction.

They say he probably  had a cocaine problem, considering his documented cocaine addiction. I want to say that coke has nothing to do with a naked one-legged dude going on a rampage and trying to break into houses, then dying. Musta been those damn bath salts that are indigenous to Florida.

Lack Of Guilt: Still The Killer, G. Zimmerman

Sometimes you just have to be found not guilty because anything less would be uncivilized.

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If ever there was a lackluster prosecution, we’ve just witnessed it (again) in The People of the State of Florida vs. George Zimmerman.(State of Florida vs. Casey Marie Anthony, case in point). Another overzealous prosecution team doing their best to double-down on the Florida Justice System’s inexpedience. And I just can’t wait for the next one. The next high-profile, outrage inducing wonderfuck of a circus court case. It’s bound to happen, we’ll all be watching.

I’ll spare us the details. The proliferance of a sensational murder case can’t be contained and unfortunately, the exertion of its influence is not limited to everyone but the DA’s office. The District Attorney’s office is definitely swayed by the magnitude of public outrage. What that means is that they overreached again. They were emboldened by community aggression and used that fuel to charge Zimmerman with murder 2 instead of the far more appropriate manslaughter or accidental homicide. Pan down, they were scared to go for anything else. They are scared of public outrage. Not shockingly, the prosecution has just tabled manslaughter as a charge the jury can consider in their deliberations, and, with an incalculable amount of audacity, they made a bid for felony murder based on CHILD ABUSE. The latter was denied. Queue Herbert Morrison.

Oh the humanity.

They just admitted that they haven’t hammered home the murder 2 case.

Judge Debra Nelson lost the plot yesterday and showed a marked lack of composure and a hot head. Flexing her muscles for no apparent reason at all and coming off unweaned if you ask me. The old gal must know that her time in the national eye is winding down. Give us a show Deb, by any means. If I were a gambling man, I might bet that you have swayed from the middle before closing statements have even been made. You professional, you.

Sorry, Your Honor.

If George Zimmerman does not get time served and walk out into the guaranteed rage parade waiting outside, then the country has been served a great injustice. A porous case by the prosecution substantiated by an imbecilic star witness. If you are in fact innocent of a crime and a case is brought up against you that in any way mirrors the case brought against George Zimmerman, you have to feel confident that justice will be served and that you will be cleared. If you are found guilty of any crime by the will of such shoddy prosecution… all hope is lost for all of mankind.

If you think that I am on Team Zimmerman, I’m not. The evidence against him simply isn’t damning. He shot the kid and he died. He could have kneecapped him or shot him in the shoulder, but he didn’t.  Trayvon got caught out there. He was a young kid that was extremely unlucky, but not by his own saintly accord. When you get up to no good or live life a certain way, you should not be alarmed at the consequences. No matter how severe they may be. Truth be told, had Martin not been skipping through a gated community at night, he would not be dead right now. Had Zimmerman not been carrying a gun and playing superhero, Martin would not be dead right now. But those two things did happen. They happened at the exact same moment in time and at the same exact geographic location. You can’t redeal those cards. Zimmerman is no hardened criminal; you can look at him and tell. He didn’t plan on murdering anyone. But that is how it went down. Without aggression there would have been no drawing of the gun. There was plenty of aggression. If you can’t acknowledge that Zimmerman seems like a dweeb by nature and that Martin was a seemingly aggressive youth, you are letting your emotions run the rule over you. Without emotion this case stands on the wobbliest set of legs that ever remained standing. With emotion, anger and outrage beckons you to make Zimmerman pay the speculative price.

With a clear head and on middle ground, you just can’t convict Zimmerman of murder. If he loses this case, he’ll win on appeal. The most the State of Florida will get out of George Zimmerman is a few years. The least and most likely amount of time seems to be time served. I’m not in the business of being wrong, but I’m also not scared to be. Either way the gavel hits, there are no winners here. Godspeed.

Dear Rachel. Love, The World: The Kadijah White Chronicles

 

Rachel Jeantel

Rachel Jeantel

The woman pictured above provided the planet with some of the most prolific testimony ever recorded in the history of first-hand accounts. If you are reading this, you likely already know what I am talking about. The prosecution’s supposed star witness was on the stand for two days in what I consider to be one of the most flaw-ridden decisions ever made by any DA’s office ever. If you asked Jeantel’s twitter following  to testify on the Trayvon Martin case in 140 character or less, you would have gotten a more credible and resonating testimony than what was coaxed out of her clearly intricate web of complexity. Any objections? Does that sound wrong? Did I not hear her correctly?

That being cleared up, a woman by the name of Khadijah Costley White decided that the way Jeantel has been treated in the days following her wonder testimony has just been a low down dirty shame. She has decided to write Rachel Jeantel a public apology… not on behalf of herself, but on behalf of the entire world. Yes, that includes you and me. How omnipotent of her. Please take the time to read as much of this appeal to pacifism as you can, I’ve included it in red print below and it is available by clicking this link: A Letter To Rachel Jeantel, The Prosecutions Key Witness In The George Zimmerman Trial.

Dear Rachel,

I write this as I watch you testifying, tightening your lips, grinding your teeth in an attempt to be stoic, to not break down while you recount the grisly, too-soon murder of your friend. It was probably the most terrifying moment of your life. I can’t imagine listening, helpless, while my friend was stalked and murdered, panicked and afraid. You told him to run. You thought it would keep him safe. What could’ve been going through your mind that day? Did you worry when the phone was cut off? When Trayvon didn’t call you back or return any of your missed calls?

What could you have possibly felt when you found out that Travyon had been killed? Were you able to sleep that night? Have you been able to sleep since? “He sounded tired,” you said today on the stand. You do, too, Rachel. So tired.

Dr. Costley White starts off by describing Jeantel as this stoic figure whose stoicism just happens to be cloaked in virulent ignorance. After all, she is battling off a blood thirsty defense attorney that wants nothing more than to embarrass her and paint her a joke. On second thought, I bet the defense wants everyone to take her very seriously.

Dr. White closes out her opening by portraying to us, her powers of mind reading. She does this little literary dance called “I can’t imagine what you are going through but I know exactly what you are going through” The doc then goes on to predict Ms. Jeantel’s sleeping habits, insinuating that she has not slept in 1 year, 4 months, 7 days because she sounds tired. (That’s 42,595,200 seconds for all you nerds out there) So tired.

Start the apology.

I want to write you an apology for this whole world, even if it’s not my place to apologize. I’m so sorry that you’re sitting on the stand right now, being interrogated like a criminal instead of another victim. I’m so sorry that people are judging you, fixated more on your beautiful brown skin, your carefully applied make-up, your body, your being, than your trauma and your pain. I’m sorry that you were born into a country where a man can pursue and kill a black boy, your friend, and go home the same night with the blessings of law enforcement officers. I’m sorry that you’ve been retraumatized, stigmatized, defamed, and attacked just because you were unlucky enough to love a black boy, to share time with him, to be the last one he ever called.

I’m so sorry for your loss.

Sorry…Because you are on the stand. Because people are judging you. Because of your brown, make-up laced body. Wait a minute, I didn’t even consider her brown make-up laced body until Dr. White just went on about it. Sneaky stuff. More apology… Because you were born in a country where men pursue and kill black boys. (Which makes me feel even happier because somehow I outmaneuvered all those men trying to kill me during my boy years. I’ve made it to black man) Because you were unlucky enough to love a black boy. Dang it. No wonder all of my girlfriends left me, they felt unlucky. “I’m sorry for your loss.” OK, I can’t argue with that.

This letter, I know, doesn’t make up for any of it.

Is where she should have stopped. It would have been a definitive moment. But she goes on.

“This letter, I know, doesn’t make up for any of it.” Not for the unimaginable grief and pain you’ve suffered in the last year. Not for the guilt or shame you’ve probably felt, which no doubt has affected your health and will continue to affect your life, your dreams, your faith. 

Doc White points out that this letter doesn’t make up for the unimaginable grief, pain, guilt, and shame that she has imaginably suffered. Rendering it useless and obsolete. Which is why she continues on. She gets dark here so try to remain optimistic.

I can’t even fix the extreme likelihood that you and your children might soon find it impossible to vote in your home state. Or that you were never taught to read cursive, or that the school you grew up attending was probably more like a prison than a place of learning. I can’t promise that you, or another loved one (or mine) won’t, yet again, die too soon, too young, too black.

But I’m writing this all the same.

You and your children won’t be able to vote in Florida and the secondary school you went to doubled as a prison. Which is why you can’t read cursive. Oh and by they way, if you die, you are going to die too black. I never knew such a thing existed. To surmise, all of this stuff Dr. White is writing won’t make up for or fix anything. But she is writing it all the same. Someone is in the business of wasting time. (Myself included)

There are a lot of hateful things being said about you—comparisons to “Precious” (as if Gabourey Sidibe isn’t a real person or, irony of ironies, that Precious wasn’t also a victim of trauma)

Oh snap. Something else I hadn’t thought of.precious

people making fun of your frankness, your tenacity, your refusal to codeswitch out of your mother-sister-brother tongue. You exemplify, in your girth, skin tone, language, and manner, a refusal to concede. You are a thousand Nat Turners, a quiet spring of rebellion, and some folks don’t know how to handle that.

Someone please bring up “girth” to Rachel Jeantel and see if you get a rise out of her. She is a thousand Nat Turners. A quick look at history will tell you that the rebellion led by Mr. Turner (no matter how necessary) led to the deaths of about 55 white men, women, and children. If she is a thousand Nat Turners then her existence could lead to the deaths of 55,000 white men, women, and children. And if you double that number to 110,000, you get a lowest case scenario number for how many black folks will die as a result of her existence. Quite the quiet spring of rebellion. Don’t blame me, she picked the reference.

In truth, you’re part of a long legacy of black women so often portrayed as the archetypal Bitch, piles of Sassafrasses, Mammies, and Jezebels easily dismissed, caricatured, and underestimated. For black women, in particular, being the bitch represents our historical exclusion from the cult of true womanhood, a theme traditionally bounded and defined by its contrast to white femininity. For some folks, being black and being a woman makes us less of both. 

Let me dumb that down for us: You are a bitch because it is representative of not being accepted into the woman cult because that cult is for whites only.

Allow me to make the last sentence more confusing: Being black and being a woman makes you less of both, but if you are white and a woman you are only less black. If you are black and a man you are less black and less of a man. If you are white and a man, you are more of both. Try to follow along please.

Don’t forget that in just the last few years, Fox News called the First Lady of the United States “Obama’s Baby Mama”

Which was four years after Michelle Obama referred to Barack as her “baby’s daddy”  The hypocrisy. 

that a popular radio host (Imus confess I have no idea who she is talking about) referred to a group of college athletes as “nappy-headed hoes,” and that even a gold-medal Olympian wasn’t able to escape physical scrutiny and bodily criticism on the world stage. This rhetoric is bigger than you, older than you, deeper than you—it is not you.

you know

I hid that last one so Ms. Jeantel wouldn’t have to be badgered by yet another probing question.

I just want you to know: I am so proud of you. In you I see a fierce resistance that reminds me of ancestors past.

What am I on crazy pills? What is she resisting? Her desire to bitch-slap (poor choice of terminology) the defense attorney?

Each time you open your mouth, look down, clench your cheeks in a fresh wave of pain, I see Sojourner Truth, Harriet Tubman, and Fannie Lou Hamer joining their spirits and bonding their strength to yours. I see a survivor, a woman who has miraculously kept her mind and nurtured her sanity enough that she can sit, for hours, and recount such horror.

Dr. White clearly got to view the dvd version of Jeantel’s testimony that included hundreds of minutes of never before seen bonus footage.

You have a brilliance that flares out, only to be quickly veiled by a glance down or a quiet stare. Past your soul-wrenching pain and your child-like bravado, I see hope and possibility, a small green tendril creeping out of a concrete playground. I see YOU. 

So far, the meanest things I have read about Rachel Jeantel are all in Dr. White’s letter. Any menacing thoughts I’ve had about Jeantel’s “child-like bravado” were brought on by Costley White.

I hold you in me—and there are many, many others, with our arms, minds, and hearts holding you right alongside me. I hope you feel it. I hope you know it.

And I’m so sorry that my apology isn’t enough.

Well at least the letter ended spot on. This look-at-me, completely unnecessary, racial tension tensioning apology on behalf of the planet is definitely not enough. But it was an honest effort. Doc, do yourself a favour and apologise on your own behalf. That way you don’t run into any lunatics such as myself that don’t have any problem with your empathising and sympathising , just a problem with you assuming I want you to cosign my name to it.

Thank you and Good Day.