Da Boyz in da Hood

Today I’m going to introduce you to the world of media manipulation. Take a breath, a sip of coffee, and think, “McKinney.” Ok, what you saw; innocent pool party in affluent neighborhood, children frolicking in the pool when police showed up, and assaulted poor black children, particularly one vexing young lass in a yellow bikini showing stark contrast to her fetching ebony butt, writhing on the grass, crying for her mother. I’ll admit it, I wiped a tear out my eye myself, right up until I saw all the marks of a set up!

Enter Marvin Bacari. No one even thought “racism” until Marvin and his little girl took to the airwaves in righteous indignation, artfully played that time proven Joker we’ve all come to know as the Race Card! As soon as the story aired the national organization, “Black Lives Matter” booked a flight, Mr. Bacari started a fund raising effort (Can’t have a riot without proper funding) and before the ink was even dry on the police report the BGI (Black Grievance Industry) was in full swing pimping the deal! God Bless AMERICA!

The pool party was NOT just a pool party, but a business model set up by one Tatyana Rhodes and her mother, LaShana Rhodes to milk a buck out of a series of such parties, complete with a sales staff working for something called Twinzzpromotions, pumping something known as “Dime Piece Cookouts” which included not one, not two, but THREE victims of racial injustice just a smiling and a waiting for someone to yell, “ACTION!” The star of the show was pretty Miss Dejerria Becton, 15, better known as “Bikini Girl,” who is, you’ll never guess, the NIECE of Marvin Bakari! Then, of course, there was Grace Stone (14) and Jahda Bakari (13) all suited up and ready to go. Weeeee’re OFF to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of cash!

Mr. Bakari had hoped to fill his coffers with about $6,000, but after his plan became more or less transparent, he shut down the fundraiser ending up with only about $90. Unfortunately this was not enough to lure the venerable Al Sharpton, but it did lure a troop of New Black Panthers, but they were probably Texas boys and $90 looked pretty good. The three little girls that Bakari was so artfully pimping had “no idea” that boys would try to get into the pool, gosh no! And it was most surprising when two of them approached a police officer from his blind side and lo and behold, one of them got arrested! (Probably because he was black )One Mr. Adrian Mosley, with a rap sheet as long as his arm was hooked up, and taken downtown. These were not “boys” they were men and an active part of something called, “Make It Clap” parties, headed up by the Rhodes, and parlayed by the “Dime Piece Girls!” Clap . . .Dime Piece . . .I digress. Oh, for your edification, Adrian, his brother Mylin and their buddies, Cam, Miles, and Devin run something called a “crew” and I’ll just let you look,that up. Uh, none of these fellows live at Craig’s Ranch, they live over in the projects. Jus Sayin!

So, Tatyana Rhodes is wearing out her iPhone looking for more “Dime Piece Girls” to fill her “Clap Parties” The promotional material for these parties would make Trayvon Martin proud. Now I’m not going to verbalize the wording or implications of these promotions, but let’s just say, jus sayin! So, we get this thing rolling, boyz in the hood come over the fence, cops get called, little Miss Yellow Bikini humps for the camera AFTER taunting a police officer into corralling her, some fat white kid pulls out his cell phone, and a partridge in-a pear tree!

Contrived, choreographed, roll, cut, print! Officer lost his job, Rhodes made some money, and da boyz wuz back in da hood waiting for the next “Clap Party!” Now folks, this is what it really is! There is an emerging industry capitalizing on a CASINO full of race cards, and there are more than enough poorly educated black kids to FILL those casinos, the pockets of the promoters, and the streets of whichever city they choose to burn down NEXT! What amazed me was the police chief not figuring this out. A cop DID need to be fired . . . HIM!

Simple Ol’ Boy From Austin

http://www.teapartytribune.com
http://www.thedamgoodtimes.com
http://www.ragingelephantsradio.com

http://www.amazon.com/Simple-Boy-Austin-Wilbur-Witt/dp/1503179540/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1422121598&sr=8-1&keywords=Wilbur+Witt

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It Ain’t Like In The Movies

For the last week I’ve been studying police shootings from both sides of the issue. I’ve read court records, viewed dozens of autopsy photos, and watched hours of video, both public, and private. I’ve talked informally with police officers, and “thugs,” and watched at least twenty chiefs of police use the word, “justified,” when confronted by the press, and grieving friends and relatives. In my usual manner I have simplified all of this, and come to some conclusions, some of which may surprise you.

There are not one, but two “oldest” professions in the world. One, as you know, is prostitution. The other is the police officer. Since before recorded history there have always been men hired to protect those who cannot protect themselves. The shop keeper in Rome, who could not lift a sword handily, depended on the Centurion who stood at the ready, so that any woman could safely walk the streets at night. Saint Paul was executed in Rome, as was Peter, but if you will note, they both got there safely. No matter how political, or perverse the Emperor was, the Centurion on the street was very simple and direct. Maintain order, serve, and protect the citizens of Rome. All societies have these men. All societies have a portion of the populace that will break the rules and by brute force, take what is not theirs. While the politicians redefine words, and yes, even lie, it is the police officer who looks the perpetrator in the eye, and in a split second, must make the choice between life and death . . . often, his OWN life and death. They understand this, they accept it.

One of the videos I watched was a security film of an encounter at an apartment complex. There was no sound, but an officer was questioning someone. There was no altercation, the officer speaking, and the other man nodding, both seemingly at ease. Then, the officer points as if to tell the man to step away for a moment, and as he turns, and pulls a note pad from his pocket, the man that he was talking to pulls a gun, and shoots him in the back of the head. THIS is the grim reality of police work! This is why officers are so skittish when questioning even the most mundane of citizens.

It ain’t like in the movies. Remember that statement, there’ll be a quiz later. Clint Eastwood draws his Smith & Wesson, takes careful aim, and shoots a suspect at one hundred yards with a carefully placed bullet, while munching a hot dog. That never happens, and Miley Cyrus will not taking me to dinner tonight. In a face to face gunfight there are dozens of bullets flying and any one of them can put an officer in the same position as that one scribbling on his note pad that day.

Think about this; when you go to work today, about the most dangerous part of your day is your commute. If you are reasonably alert you pay attention to traffic, obey all the laws, and you will hopefully arrive safely at your office with your Starbucks in hand. In a police officer’s world the safest part of his day is the trip to work, and his ambition is to make a safe trip home to his family. Imagine, if you will, that every ONE of your customers may be your last. The police officer never enters a situation unless something is wrong. From speeding ticket to domestic disturbance, most of the people the officer will encounter do NOT want him to be there, and surprisingly, the domestic disturbance is the most dangerous. The officer must enter another’s territory, unaware of the background, or weapons, or drugs and alcohol involved. He may see a battered woman, but be totally unaware that the reason she is battered is because her husband just came home and caught her and her boyfriend. The husband’s entire life plan just evaporated ten minutes before the officer arrived, and frankly, he’s ready to die. Turn the tables, and the woman is not battered, indeed, she called the police, meeting them at the door with accusations of her man being drunk, and loud, and in the dim light the officer doesn’t even see the two black eyes the man is sporting from an abusive, combative wife. He has no idea of who else is in the house, there are loud words, the man of the house picks up his dinner plate with a steak knife still on it, and the officer fires! Of course, the grieving wife gets a lot of attention on the nightly news as she tells what a wonderful father and husband her deceased husband (was.)

Knife seems to play a large role in police shootings. Remember, it ain’t like in the movies. To the novice, it would seem that an officer, armed with a gun, would be invincible to something as simple as a steak knife. I’m going to enlighten you. It’s almost better to be shot. I was a Realtor for a number of years. I’ve measured many homes, and rarely have I seen a living room wider than fifteen feet, most are about twelve. Even our spacious home in Berry Creek was only twenty feet across the main sitting area, the other rooms were smaller. Do the math. The suspect, and officer are more than likely not standing against opposing walls, making the distance much closer. Two steps in and a slash. Now I know you won’t do this, but imagine it, if you will, hanging a pork roast from a door frame, take a common, rather small butcher knife, and make a quick swing at it. The cut will extend from six to eight inches, maybe more, about two to three inches deep. Transpose that to your own torso, and your will quickly see why officers shout rather loudly, “DROP THE KNIFE!” A knife can be much deadlier than a bullet. Again, it ain’t like in the movies.

People believe that when a bullet hits, the person shot will go down, drop the weapon and turn totally submissive. Not so. First off, they’re upset, maybe crazy, drunk, or suicidal. They may not even know they’ve been shot, or if they do, imagine it’s all over, their chips are all on the table, and it’s time to go out in a blaze of glory. The acceptance of your own death is surprisingly calm. When I was crushed between two cars in 1970, I thought I was going to die. Both legs broken, bones sticking out everywhere. From the way I was hit I thought my femur artery was severed, and I knew it took about thirty seconds to bleed out. I began to count backwards from thirty, and when I got to zero, was pleasantly surprised. At no time was I afraid. I figured my ticket was punched, and waited for darkness to fall.

There is a type of wound called, “through and through, concerning an area that rests on either side of your body from just below your ribs about an inch or so in toward your navel. Love handles. Back in the days of the “wild west” outlaws knew that if they were hit there that they could drag a silk handkerchief through the bullet wound and would live. Most likely the bullet would pass all the way through and leave a clean, sanitized hole. Don’t believe me? Check out David Koresh on his video where he’s sitting on the floor at Mount Carmel. See the spot on his shirt? See where he raises that shirt to show where the bullet exited? David was shot “through and through.” I might add that he had the presence of mind to close the door that morning and retreat back into the building.

THIS is the reason for the many shots. THIS is the reason for handcuffing a seemingly incapacitated man. THIS is the reason many officers have been wounded, or even killed by a suspect they thought was down for the count! It ain’t like in the movies! The police must play by the rules of engagement every time, and even one mistake, a half second lapse of diligence can spell disaster. The officer must read the test correctly and make straight “As” or he’s DEAD! Just like the one at that apartment that day.

Do officers make mistakes? Yes. When you combine the many factors in a police encounter the formula becomes astronomical. “Procedure was correctly followed.” You hear that over and over again, and it makes the general public mad. That’s all the police officer has, procedure! He doesn’t have time to reflect, consider, or rewrite the rules, he has one second, and his training in procedure to survive. What should you do if you become involved in a situation involving a police officer? Here’s where I will surprise you. FORGET about your rights, the constitution, and all those things you think you learned on YouTube. Your “procedure” is to convince that officer that you are no threat to either him, or anyone else. If civil rights have been violated there are lawyers for that . . . later! YOU make a safe trip down to the old “PD,” and call your lawyer, call your congressman, call your mother (she loves you,) but you do EXACTLY what that officer says, and you will most likely wake up in the morning.

Now, let’s look at McKinney from the officer’s point of view. Yeah, yeah, yeah, they were kids. Billy the Kid was about nineteen when he blasted sixteen dimes through Deputy Bob’s chest before stealing a horse and escaping jail, I don’t want to hear it! I’ve read all the stuff about there was only one fight between two people, but THAT’S not what the officers came up on. They came into a situation involving dozens of people running in dozens of different directions, NOT obeying lawful orders being given to them by officers of the law! Oh, but they were just kids. Remember that pork roast? A ten year old girl can do that with a pocket knife! “Sit DOWN,” has no other meaning. If a person is sitting down it only goes to follow that it will take him a moment to get up, and harm himself, or others. Did the officer in question get a bit out of control? Well, a bit, but consider this; he’d been chasing, and screaming at a crowd of unruly kids for minutes, and TOLD Miss Yellow Bikini to leave, not once, but THREE times, when she decided to become a Philadelphia lawyer, and yes, she got slammed, and yes, she got a knee on her back. Good MORNING, honey . . . smell that coffee yet? Sure would have been better if you’d just walked away like the officer TOLD you to do! I wish in my life, and many altercations with police they’d told me to “just leave.”

Examination of shootings involving officers are hard. You say, “Well, the man was shot in the back.” OK, but consider this; It’s one thing to shoot someone in the back who is loping across a field, but quite another to fire on a man who WAS running toward you, but decided to turn away at the last second AS the officer was squeezing the trigger. Any shooting must be investigated, but always remember, most police shootings ARE justified, and the only litmus test IS procedure. We have a dangerous mindset developing in this country where the police are automatically suspect in any altercation. It’s becoming a rite of passage to film an officer making an error during an encounter, and most of the time the video is only the so called error and NOT the situation leading up to the event. As a society we cannot forward this idea. We must consider all things and remember . . . It ain’t like in the movies!

Where’s Justice?

I’m going for a different take on Baltimore. It’s going to surprise you. While not all policemen are bad cops, the media has been deluged with the images of brutality on almost a daily basis. Down here in Texas we have a problem getting people to show up for a rally. When patriots are arrested for sitting on the Capitol lawn we raise our mighty cell phones. Well, the people of Baltimore did a bit more.

Yeah, they’re thugs. Yeah, they’re looters, but that’s what it comes to sometimes. Twelve year old boy with a toy gun gets shot. Where’s the justice? Man in New York gets choked to death. Where’s the justice? Homeless man in Arizona, killed for turning his back, another in South Carolina SHOT in the back . . . WHERE’S THE JUSTICE? This day was coming when the police militarized. The moment they made the choice to serve and protect themselves this match was scheduled.

The rioters are a mob. Nothing productive can come of this, but how much can the people take? All the screaming, and brutality must stop. STOP RESISTING policemen! Else this will continue. There are ways to enforce the law withOUT shooting, tasing, or breaking backs! YOU ARE NOT THE LAW! There are more of US than there are of YOU, and it’s time you realized that.

The fires will die. The streets will calm, until another rouge cop decides to take the law into his own hands and then they will start right back up again. It’s time you understand the thin blue line is just that, thin! We, the public, are not the enemy. We are your employers. You serve and protect US!

That all having been said the politicians need to be on notice, too. There’s a battle outside that is raging. We’ll soon shake your windows, and rattle your walls. And behind the rioters are those of us who don’t burn, don’t steal, we change GOVERNMENT, and we’ll show you where justice is.

Refresher: Death by Cop 101

Ever know somebody who just can’t stop getting DUIs? One after another, and every time you see them in a bar you just know they’re gonna make bail in the morning. Well that’s the mind set of a lot of black folk these days. Boy! I played THAT race card pretty early in the game, didn’t I. I do stuff like that. Anyway, we’ve already gone over Death By Cop 101, but I sense the need for a refresher course. Last time out I had to explain that you don’t bull rush a police officer. Now we have a new wrinkle. You don’t pull out a gun out and point it at their head either.

Seems a young man did exactly that this week, and he got to join Michael Brown and Treyvon Martin in their very exclusive club of dead rappers society. This one died for a pair of shoes. That kinda moves him to the head of the class. Of course there are demonstrations, and the obligatory grieving mother is paraded around talking about an empty plate at dinner and all that. Haven’t seen an uncle jumping up and down on the roof of a car yet, but the day’s still young.

I’m not going to suck up and say it is tragic the young man died. It frankly amazed me how he lived so long! What I’d like to talk about is how stupid the demonstrators are. Yeah, I said stupid, deal with it. Back in the day when Dr. King was leading people in marches and giving speeches there was a very focused reason for it. Voter’s rights, fair housing, discrimination in everything from a bus ride to rest rooms and God knows what else. What Dr. King did actually healed a situation in America that affected all people, white and black. And he was recognized with a Nobel Prize! When you hit the streets because some thug gets capped during an armed robbery . . . Well, heeeere’s your sign. Oh, my bad, they already have their signs.

Ok, don’t point guns at off duty cops! As a matter of fact, don’t try to steal shoes from someone in a parking lot. Go in the store and steal them right off the shelf, you’ll live longer and in some county jails they may even let you wear them, that is until some big guy named Santos slaps you up long side your head and takes them away from you. Dudes! Just playing by the rules YOU set.

The undercurrent to this whole sorry scenario is that if I had the young man sitting right here, right now he would ignore my advice. In his culture the shoes are worth the risk. He put his life on the line for a pair of shoes that would make him King of the Homeboys! When Brown bit the dust the demonstrators all marched around holding up their hands in a kind of “surrender” posture. I think it would be appropriate to have this cluster of wear a necklace with little gold tennis shoes around their neck. Or better than that, have the necklace, with hands raised holding Arizona Tea and Skittles. Yeah, perfect! The absolutely perfect social statement for the entire Hip Hop generation.

Training

Did something interesting yesterday. As you know I’m a crusty old bastard and I’ll do things like watch Iranian executions while eating pizza, but hey, that’s just me, ok? Anyway, I’m surfing YouTube for videos, and I got to watching police videos where they shoot, kill, beat up, and verbally abuse everyone from street gangs to school teachers, and that’s a lot of entertainment, but after a while the ol’ brain kicked in and I began to ask questions. Now, as bad as I’d love to throw all these gumshoes under the bus, I understood that they’re not ALL bad cops, but the percentage was disproportional. I mean there’s just too MUCH!

SOMETHING was a common denominator making cops act like they do. Let’s look at the difference. Back in the day when you got stopped for a traffic violation you got out of the car as a courtesy to the officer. It’s called “sucking up.” If you made it easy for the cop you just MIGHT get off with a warning. Telescope that to now. Unless you’ve been living under a big yellow rock for the last thirty years you KNOW that if you don’t show your hands and announce in a loud voice that you are reaching for your wallet you might get shot and the Grand Jury will exonerate the officer WITH a raise and promotion. Now why is this?

One word; Training. It has become accepted that the American public is dangerous, out of control, and either drunk or drug addicted. And what is training? Training is the programming of conditioned responses. We all have those. Your very muscles learn, and memorize things. You don’t think so? If you are right handed, just try to operate a combination lock you’ve owned for years with your left hand. You CAN do it, but you’ll be amazed at how hard it really is. What training does is condition and fine tune the responses we already have. Now here’s where it goes wrong.

First, let’s admit that most police officers are not evil people, but they have been told that these over the top methods are what’s needed to protect their life and safety. When you install a trigger that trigger will pull with the same force on any situation that fulfills the criteria pre-programmed by some instructor during police training. The frontal lobe of the brain goes into park, and the survival core goes into over drive. That’s how cripples in wheel chairs get beat up in jail. That’s how homeless men in the desert get shot for waving a pocket knife and then turning to walk away. That’s how twelve year old boys get SHOT two seconds after the squad car pulls up for reaching for a toy gun!

I’m not saying that the police don’t have a dangerous job, they do. What I am saying is that they have traded common sense for training. The training itself becomes a legal defense before a grand jury. “The officer followed all procedures correctly.” How many times have you heard that crap?The right or wrong of the action goes right out the window. When six officers gathered around a homeless man on the ground and shot him, it’s all good. They followed procedures. They were doing as instructed. We’ve seen this before. “I vas only following ordehs!”

And what are we doing while RoboCop is blowing the hell out of Suzie Sweetcheeks for jaywalking? We are kissing the glove, too afraid to even talk back! If you saw a hoodlum slam a teenage girl on the ground you’d probably find a brick and slam HIM on the ground. If you see a cop do the exact same thing you’d be afraid to even question his action. This reinforces the cop behavior. Every time they do this stuff, and don’t get jacked they are assured the training worked. The training absolves all sin. What would happen if it were possible to bitch slap a cop for such actions and NOT do twenty years for assault on a peace officer. Ok, I hear all the jaws hitting the table. What would happen if just telling the jury that training was followed when you shotgunned a nun held no sway, but rather you had to explain where you put your brain that day?

Until we have those two things under control we will continue to see the atrocities like those in Cleveland, L.A. and Arizona. We have to stop just standing around with our cell phones making videos while cops do whatever they want. I don’t believe Wyatt Earp ever beat up a teenage girl. I can’t find one newspaper story saying that he shot one dog. I have read the coroner’s report and I see no reference to one stray bullet hitting anyone not directly involved at the OK corral. But then, Wyatt wasn’t a REAL police officer. He didn’t have any TRAINING!

Get It Right!

I never said I was set in stone. I never said I cannot be swayed by events. I am being swayed. Just watched a video where a lady lawyer was coming down on police for harassing a man. They had the address and block number wrong, and had some poor man on the ground. He was submissive and knew the deal. The lady dressed down the two cops, took the man by the hand and led him to her house. “Just because he’s black doesn’t mean he’s here to rob a house! Now go find 4600!”

First things first. Michael Brown was a criminal. He deserved to get shot. He was a big, fat bully who thought he was the Hip Hop Hero. Now he’s in hell. Mr Garner in New York was NOT a criminal. He didn’t deserve to be traumatized until his heart gave out for selling a CIGARETTE! The protestors are right in their heart, but wrong in their methods. They are outraged but about the wrong thing. Too long have we kissed the glove. To long have we bent to the authority we’ve been told from birth is insurmountable. When you combine blind rage with a warped world view you get Ferguson. Accepting the idea that you should just be good and the system will work won’t work.

There is no white privilege. There is no affirmative actions. Those are terms being served up by the ruling class. There is only Blue Privilege. Touch a cop, you go to jail. Talk back, you go to jail. Turn, and try to walk away, you DIE! And we’re told that we need to understand the world the cops have to deal with? Are the American people that bad? Are we all so out of control that the police must behave like an occupying army? A co-ed is wrestled to the ground in Austin for jay walking and we accept? Have we lost our collective minds?

It isn’t one case, or two, or three, it’s every DAY! Retarded people being beaten to death. Drunk women getting their face broken in jail. Police screaming that they don’t give a damn about the constitution. Blue Privilege! Where ten years ago we would fish for our wallets to retrieve our driver’s license for a traffic stop we now stick our hands out the window like prisoners of war so we won’t get killed, because we know ifmGrandma Moses gets her brains blown out the cop will walk away, to serve and protect.

Ok people, this is inSANity! These screaming, fat bullies must be put in their place. This has to stop. Yeah, the rioters have the wrong approach, but yes. they have a reason to be enraged. Like I said, Michael Brown was a criminal. I would have shot him myself. He needed shooting. He was a danger to everyone around him. Good riddance. But what about the others? The rioters are ignorant. They don’t understand political process, or legislation, or the constitution, but they understand police who are out of control and when an officer approaches it is never good. NEVER good! Do you understand that?

This is not going to resolve itself in a short time. This is not going to be easy. This does NOT need the DC crowd chiming in. This is a STREET thing. Police brutality. Be it a man in New York making change selling cigarettes or C J Grisham on a lonely road in Temple, Texas, it is all the same! Do the math. There are more of US than there are of THEM! Take this country back! Get past your racial ideas and realize that. US vs THEM! Get it right people. Just get it right!

WHY?

I have grandchildren. This, in and of itself is not unusual, but if you are a grandparent you understand that grandparenting is an art and a science. I raised four boys. One, Bobby, who passed away before he was thirty from a heart attack, Michael, who couldn’t remain in the Marines due to an ear injury, but became a fine police officer, Wilbur, who ran away to the Navy and they are trying to come up with a new rank so they can promote him yet again, and, of course, we have Timmy the CrackHead, who crashed and burned at an early age, but every family has one, and he is ours. That doesn’t mean we don’t have him over for Thanksgiving, but it does mean we watch the silver while he’s here. Now, where am I going with this? Oh yeah, kids!

I can’t remember ever worrying about what my boys were playing with while they were growing up. Even in high school they would regularly do such inventive things such as steal my Cable Van, go to parties, get drunk, bring home girls, have them gone, and the van gassed up before I got up in the morning. Hey, it’s Texas and CPS can kiss my redneck ass! When they were pre-teen they played in the yard. They threw footballs, hit each other with sticks and rocks, and yes, played with toy guns. I had black powder pistols, and on the fourth of July Wilbur even used the raw black powder for fireworks in the back hard. Not ONE of my boys were ever shot by Deputy Dawg, our local police, for waving a plastic gun around not matter HOW real it looked! Neither Michael or Wilbur has ever killed a child and between the two of them they have killed enough Arabs to fill a Mosque!

All these boys, except Bobby, cloned themselves, and five of these creatures still grace my life directly. I have others but they live far away and they grew up. It is a reality check when the little girl you remember playing with dolls is the WOMAN who picks you up at LAX! If you have five grandchildren, all seven and under, and they are playing in the yard you have to WATCH! And I do mean WATCH! We’re not talking about, “Now children, play nice,” we’re talking about, “Put the stick DOWN! Step AWAY from the stick!” We don’t have toy guns here, not because I’m a bleeding heart liberal with ED, who doesn’t know what gender I am, but because I simply never bought any. However, that having been said, we have REAL guns!

In my younger days I preferred revolvers. Just by chance I purchased an Interarms .45. My friend, Ted had a Colt 1911, and he was always upgrading. Every time he switched out a part to his Colt he gave me the original part, and if you know anything about guns then you know these parts were interchangeable with my Interarms pistol, so in a reasonable time I basically had a Colt! One piece at a time, and it didn’t cost me a dime. Very stiff slide, I NEVER lock and load, and guess what? Not ONE of my children or many grandchildren has ever killed any of their siblings. Not one. Not even one incident of a child picking up a gun and playing with it. My grandchildren believe my guns are for shooting monsters in the closet.

I had an incident recently where some idiot called and announced to me that he was coming over to collect a debt connected with CrackHead Tim, and he was bringing not one, but TWO pistols. When he arrived I met him in the driveway, and brothers and sisters, I DID have two pistols, but guess what? I didn’t kill him. Wow! Why? Because when this drunk fool got out of his car, even in the dark, I quickly saw that he was not armed! You don’t kill an unarmed man, and you CERTAINLY don’t kill a little boy with a plastic gun!

This is called being a man. Since a large portion of our police are NOT men, but paranoid little girls we get incidents like the one in Cleveland this weekend. Now I’m going to get rude! If you are so skiddish that you can’t identify a cap gun, in a child’s hand, in broad daylight then you need to get another job! Maybe Librarian, or something like that. There is something called the “militarization” of the police, but that is a misnomer. Soldiers don’t act like that! Police who THINK they are soldiers act like that. Even in Iraq, where militants WILL arm a child with a bomb, soldiers act with RESTRAINT when confronted by a child. Do you know why when a cop wears body armor the face visor is not bullet proof? Because if you shoot through it you won’t hit anything vital, that’s why!

Now let’s turn our attention to the libtard who made the 911 call. Even if I could understand Barney Fife’s actions, being fresh on the scene, I cannot understand the liberal mind. The anti-gun element has so flooded the mainstream media with paranoia over guns that anytime even the THOUGHT of a gun comes on the scene people go into spasm. Ok, you look through your kitchen window at yon playground, and you see children frolicking among the glen, playing. There is one little boy (and MOST twelve year olds are quite small) who appears to have something in his hand. He is waving it around, pointing it, but it does not appear to be making a “pop pop” sound, so what do you do? Do you go and get a closer look? Why NO! You get on the emergency services phone line and start screaming, “GUN,” until you get a paranoid, schizophrenic on the scene, wired, with a REAL gun! I don’t have to tell you the rest. They’re “probing” the incident. I’d like to “probe” whoever made that 911 call!

Am I the only one outraged by this? And I don’t want to hear anything about “You weren’t there,” or “His training kicked in,” or “The gun looked real!” I’m going to shock you, but had I been there I would have shot that cop! That’s what you do to crazy men who kill KIDS! Then, they could probe THAT! It’s not the gun owners who endanger this country. It is the people who will not face reality and their subsequent irrational actions put us all in jeopardy.

My heart goes out to the parents of the little boy. There are some things in this world that you are not meant to survive. This is one of them. If one of my grandchildren were killed by a cop for waving a toy gun in a play ground, after I killed the cop, my life would be over. The grief would consume me. I’m not ashamed to tell you that I’ve wiped my eyes several times while writing this article, thinking about what that family must be going through. In that family there will never be closure. There will never be understanding. There will only be the immense black hole in their hearts and they ask again, and again, “Why . . .WHY?”

Reality

Well, let’s take another look at Michael Brown. Maybe I haven’t been clear enough in the past. There are rules of life boys and girls. I didn’t make them, I just play by the rules already put down. One of the first rules I learned way back in Simmonsville was death by cop. Now, with all respect to those who protect and serve, as a kid from Simmonsville, I learned very quickly that all cops are crazy. They work for low pay, they were beat up in high school and they like to yell too much. They don’t have a law degree, but they think they do and they go around in code red all day looking for monsters under every rock, and if that’s not crazy then I’m now a white boy from Austin!

When you’ve got a bunch of crazy people, packing heat, and running loose what do you do? Well, you can’t just shoot ’em cause there’s laws. Special laws. You can point your finger at a crossing guard at the school house, but if you point your finger at a cop then it’s assault! I wish I could get a deal like that. And this guy is wired! So there we have an introverted, socially crippled paranoid running around with a gun. This just might be why we need open carry, but I digress. Anyway, you got the picture.

Now let’s go to the other side of the spectrum. I always say I grew up in Simmonsville. Let me expand on that. Simmonsville was a small town, eventually gobbled up by Killeen that was the dream of drunken Harry Simmons. He basically purchased the city dump and built a village on top of it. I hear all the time these homeboys going on and on about the hood. You grow up in the city dump and tell me about it. And it was in TEXAS! Racial lines were drawn down the middle of the street, and brethren, they weren’t kidding! By the time I came on the scene the village had already been absorbed and city police were a new innovation. Combine that with a bunch of people who didn’t understand that, running around making whiskey, thinking they still had a city council. We still had the Simmonsville jail. It looked like the Alamo, and up and down the street were adobe houses full of Mexicans fresh from the old country. On the west end was the black section, and they were making whiskey too. Welcome to my world!

The city of Killeen, in their infinite wisdom, gave us Officer Jackson. He was a tall black man. I don’t think he knew a thing about the law, but he did know how to handle us. He shot us! Now, before all you liberals get out your crying towels we were cool with that. We liked Officer Jackson shooting people so long as he shot THEM and not US! We were comfortable with Officer Jackson. Everybody in Simmonsville carried a gun. There wasn’t any of this mamby-pamby Norté crap about license. And they USED them. Surprisingly not that many people got shot. An armed society is a polite society. Now folks, what I’ve just described to you is REALITY!

I’ve never been to Ferguson, Missouri. I went through St. Louis once, and got my pocket picked. I don’t know what was in Michael Brown’s head the day he got his brains blown out, but I just imagine it was a warped sense of reality. The very first thing we got down back at the old alma mater was you don’t throw down on a cop! When Officer Jackson got mad enough to get out of his squad car he was like a turd in a swimming pool. We didn’t worry about the constitution, or civil rights, or anything! It was just him and us. You see, Michael Brown had all that nonsense about rights and laws swirling through his head right up until that bullet cleared up his thinking for him. That’s because the rules have never changed. I was a bit rough on police in the beginning of this article, but to be honest with you, when you are one man patrolling a bunch of thugs, and folks, Michael Brown was a thug, it MAKES you crazy. It was that way between the Earps and the Clantons, it was that way between Officer Jackson and the Mitchell’s, and it was that way up in Ferguson that day. The song remains the same and you can’t change it. Reality is reality. Now and then I’ll go to the old neighborhood and look at the new apartments and paved streets, and then I’ll drive over too boot hill and say hello to all my friends. REALITY!

You can’t legislate survival. We talk about God given rights, well let’s talk about INGRAINED rights. Even a good dog will bite! A dog that’s been brought up in Simmonsville will bite quick. When Michael Brown decided to enter into his final altercation he made a choice. He paid for that choice, and all the Al Sharptons and riots are not going to change that. He’s as dead as fried chicken and nothing is going to bring him back. Gee, I hate to be the one to tell you people that. Why do we have to learn this over, and over again?

Michael Brown Revisited

Mike Brown Revisited

First off I’d like to say I was right. Jack in the Sharp showed up, AND Jackson DID pass the plate. When are black people going to see through these two nincompoops? Couple of years ago a little two year old girl in Dallas got her brains bashed out by a foster parent up in Dallas and Jack in the Sharp was sadly absent. I’ll leave it to you to figure out why, but enough about that.

We are now running the gauntlet of autopsies trying to figure out what happened on that fateful night in Ferguson. There WERE witnesses, and it was in the street with enough light. Brown DID just strong arm a convenience store clerk, but the officer had no knowledge of that so it’s not a factor in the event. What has to be determined is if deadly force was required or not.

There are some who are trying to draw parallels to the Trayvon Martin event but that doesn’t wash, and I will tell you why. Trayvon Martin did assault George Zimmerman. This is borne out by Zimmerman’s injuries. For whatever reason he was knocked to the ground and Martin leaped on him, banging his head on the concrete causing George some distress, and it doesn’t MATTER what Martin said while he was doing it, he could have been saying, “Have you found Jesus,” he was still doing everything possible to knock Zimmerman out. Now, this is important; one shot, squarely placed, to fend off am attacker. Physical contact had been made, and it doesn’t matter WHY George was out of that SUV, it doesn’t matter what flavor tea Trayvon had at the time it is simple. Attack, one shot, man down. If you will note, George Zimmerman did NOT empty his magazine into Trayvon Martin. When Martin stood, and said, “You got me,” through the blood in his eyes, and the trauma of the head bashing he had just taken, George Zimmerman had no idea where the bullet went. It could have gone straight up in the air and I think Martin would have jumped up anyway.

Now, let’s look at the officer’s actions in Ferguson. These people are pumped up, ok? That’s why they yell a lot. I’ve been told that the reason for the contact was because Brown and company were walking in the middle of the street. What happened to the officer just slowing his cruiser and pointing at the boys, and then at the sidewalk? He over reacted. Now let’s get inside Brown’s head. Being aware that he had just stolen those cigars, and believing that most likely the clerk had called the police, don’t you think it possible that Michael Brown thought he was caught? When I was growing up down here in Texas, and a cop pulled up and got out of his car we ran in five different directions at once. Cop caught the slow guy. Witnesses agree that Mike turned, raised his hands, and approached the officer. Not one witness recalled the officer shouting, “GET DOWN!” Now THAT is normal police procedure. You lay down, they handcuff you, and you deny everything.

Let’s address the firing of the weapon. I’ve been in altercations here with thugs trying to roll me in the parking lot of a store and all I’ve ever done is show my gun, smile, and say, “You were just leaving.” Know what? They always LEAVE! Damnest thing I ever saw. That’s cause NOBODY wants to get shot, and I dare say Michael Brown had just about the same mindset. Now let’s push the envelope just a bit. Let’s say, just for argument’s sake, that Michael Brown was a drug crazed, raving lunatic, charging at the cop waving his fists in the air. You charge a cop down here and see how that works out for you. These guys are pumped up. They WANT to fight. They PRACTICE fighting. They taze each other at parties and laugh about it. If that police officer was in fear for his life because some fat kid ran up in him he needs to get another job.

Next, he can’t shoot. All the wounds in Brown’s arm prove that. George got Trayvon dead center with one shot with blood in his eyes. The one good hit was when Michael stooped over exposing the top of his head, which is another point. If a man is going down why shoot him again? In my opinion this officer has some explaining to do, and, as facts emerge, the scenario I have painted may change, but I don’t think it will change that much. If Brown was on drugs, or drunk, police officers are supposed to be trained for that. If he was bull rushing the officer, don’t they have teasers up in Ferguson? There are so many variables that the conclusions are endless.

On a final note I thought we’d done away with all this, “Burn the town down” crap back in the 60’s. Apparently not. I have never understood that. You burn down the stores so now you can’t buy any cigarettes. DUH! Beats working I guess.

Not All Kangaroos Are In Austrailia

All Kangaroos Aren’t In Australia
by Wilbur Witt

Like Will Rodgers I don’t make jokes, I just watch the courts and report the facts. Right now, as I type, we have a jury in Belton, Texas trying to come to a ruling on a case involving a man, a gun, and a rather rotund officer of the law. Seems that a man, Mr. Grisham, was taking a ten mike hike in the country with his son. He brought along a rifle, pistol, and his license to carry. Someone saw fit to call the Temple PD and out came officer “I’m from Brookland in town two weeks to soive YOU,” and subsequently arrested Mr. Grisham for “displaying his weapon ‘rudely!”

Ok, fact one: You can carry a long gun in Texas! It’s that simple. You can walk down the street carrying a long gun and it’s not against the law. Now, as I’ve pointed out before there are appropriate places to carry a long gun, and places where it’s a little out of the norm, but it’s all legal, and walking down a country road with your son is one of those legal places!

Now, let’s get one thing straight; Temple, Texas police are stupid, ok? Sorry I’m not politically correct, but they are. I’ve had encounters with them over the years and I’m unimpressed. They are the only entity I know of more corrupt than the CPS …no, I take that back, but they’re pretty bad. This cop strolls up to Mr. Grisham, and takes his gun. Then he gets backup, then they look for a charge, then they arrest Mr. Grisham for whatEVER! The main charge was, “I’m a cop and you’re NOT!”

Hey, I’m not done yet. This ends up in district court. Some college educated lawyer on state welfare call the DA read this case and decided to go forward. We pay these people, folks. We actually give lawyers money who have never read the constitution. Whenever I have to go to court I look at these girly-men and can’t help but think what would happen if they ever woke up one day and had to go to work! They are ignorant, and Texas lawyers are the absolute worse. All they do is huddle in the judge’s chambers, cut a deal, and their client’s throat, and figure out where the cocktails are later that night.

Now for the judge! I think his name is Richardson. Ok, in my opinion he is an illiterate buffoon! Bell County dragged in a district judge from Houston (which is an immediate red flag) to process ute the case and these two girly-men got together to run the show . The judge, in chambers, even referred to Mr. Grisham as a “local yokel!” Talk about bias! Bear in mind at no time did these two idiots ever read the 2nd amendment.

So, they spent of untold thousands of dollars going to trial to prosecute a man who broke no law. Officer Doughnut testified. Cheech and Chong met in chambers, and the jury retired. We wait for the result. If the jury has any sense at all Mr. Grisham will walk, but we still probably are looking at the CPS which is normal for this bunch of looney tune legalists. Just not enough rope and trees, friends, just not enough rope and trees!

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