Stop Hate Crime Against The Mentally Ill
Stop Hate Crime Against The Depressed Elderly
Often Called Euthanasia
Stop Hate Crime Against The Depressed Elderly
Often Called Euthanasia
-----Original Message-----
From: [EMAIL PROTECTED]
To: [EMAIL PROTECTED]
Cc: [EMAIL PROTECTED]
Sent: Sun, 23 Apr 2006 11:48:34 -0400
Subject: [MC] The Murder Of Betty Shabazz
Your free subscription is supported by today's sponsor: ------------------------------------------------------------------- Is your computer freezing up or slowing down? Repair corrupt files and harmful errors - protect your PC Take a 2-minute PC health check-up at no charge! http://click.topica.com/caaeE3vbz8QXLbAgkNLa/PC Powerscan ------------------------------------------------------------------- The Eulogy Her head looked like a brown marble, her features barely distinguishable,reduced to molten slits, openings, along the contours of her once proud face. An ear, once caressed, a mouth once a source of wisdom, eyes a subtle source encouragement, all these now only a monument of another's pain. The skull did show some traces of once having had hair, all that remained in places was a.burnt kind of matting. That night she lay anestitized from the silent hate that eventually consumed her, she couldn't rise on that fated eve. A grandson driven by the unseen animous of an old hate, embarked on a desperate flight from fear, and set the 'barn abaze' as so many before. The poor lad looking for an end, had no idea, this was just to his first step into a true hell. Granny, struggling with enemy of the moment: sleep deprivation, was about to be offered up to the god of miscues. Looking back on the boy, fellow travelers wonder, if it was the touch of the unseen hand stroking his young genitals or one too many 'a kicks in the head.', or perhaps a truly polly morphus perverse lucid dream, the nature of which has been documented by many young girl child's who have had the honor of staying in the wrong group home. This much is certain he so wanted to get away from that place.....his home. Fire, was chosen to be the laddy's exit mechanism from the reality his grandmother endured via a concoction of substances. Alas she was to be collateral damage in the burgeoning 'world war on mental illness.' or perhaps this was the battlefront against drugs, or maybe one car burglary too many, or perhaps he just looked at the wrong person the right way.and caused the wrong person to roll their eyes. Maybe he was chose because of his lineage. But I kinda doubt it. An insular tight headedness overtook the boy on that dark night. If only there had been someone there to tell him 'to look down at his body and see the blood pouring out.'. Maybe that would have snapped him back into reality. But is that really where he wanted to be ? How old was he? . Later, astonished shock no doubt consumed him as he lay in that juvenile detention center and the same animous that touched him at granny's overwhelmed him yet again, he crawled under his bed, using the mattress as a crude form of shielding, There he was hiding under his bed hoping the snatch wouldn't grab. Alas that was not to be the case and this young Lochinvar to be was certified, bonafied, as in crazy. As always, sadism had trumped reason. Yup, welcome to the 21st Century edition of Racism.Com. I ran into chief whachamacallit the other day. He was talking about Betty. The slug, who I used to know as Samuel,seemed to focus on sleep. Hmmm, when I ran into her on that early spring day on Fulton street, she seemed very focused on securing a copy of the Digest, and even more interested in the stories of a insanity foisted upon the ' innocent.' Made to walk a path that was not of their own choosing, Walk or die. . Those fat cheeks, and that tucked away smile, burnt away in an escape attempt from an unseen rage. No not little Malcolm's. This hate was old and thirsty. The little guy was just the one chosen to do today's rendition of the Monkey's Dance. . Percy and Dave two men, Percy especially who was there when her husband left us. Percy courageously duking it out with the eternal con men of the nabe, the nationlist over the distribution of funds raised for the family. Malclom, laying on that ballroom floor, on a slow slide to room temperature, while armies of mourners marshalled in the streets, their tears plentiful, yet a couple of moments back they were unwilling to lift a finger to help the guy. “Our grand prince!” Oh they sang! While and there sat Betty, his wife, unknowingly waiting for her time to go up on the cross. Time Marches On. She had no one to turn to. It was only her, the girls, and an unseen terror that was eating little Malcolm alive. Big bites, the skin of his little psyche popping from its' chops like the surface of a not so done pork chop. The flesh of what he could have been being rended from the bone. Eventually the young laddy broke. Yet, he was gone long before he gassed the joint. broke before his first arrest. What a laugh! The night of the fire, he thought it would be all over, the poor boy, thought he was at the end. I'm going home. Nope, his journey was just starting. JZ Stop Hate Crime Against The Mentally Ill Stop Hate Crime Against The Depressed Elderly Often Called Euthanasia [Non-text portions of this message have been removed] Your free subscription is supported by today's sponsor: ------------------------------------------------------------------- See the hottest games before your friends! Sign up with Ubisoft, and you'll get access to exclusive game news, contests, promotions, community forums, and more. It's easy, free, and secure. http://click.topica.com/caaeInYbz8QXLbAgkNLf/ Ubisoft ------------------------------------------------------------------- __________________________________ Post to: [EMAIL PROTECTED]. Unsubscribe to: [EMAIL PROTECTED]. 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