Thanks brother Kevin:

Preaching at the Jackson trail was like fishing in a bath tub as we had a captive crowd all day.

We started by leaving my house at 4AM on Monday to ride up to Santa Maria and after we did a drive by and looked at the playing field we split into two groups. Todd (Miami) and Robert (Washington) preached the front of the court house and early enough to have the ladder in a good location, while Rod and I (both from Los Angeles) waited for the jury to drive into the rear of the courthouse. My reconnaissance information was good and just like clock work the jury came by us in two white unmarked vans with police escort at 8:10AM. So after completing phase one of �tamper with the jury� (warning them) we joined Todd and Robert that were already preaching to the assembly. The Jackson-dolaters were coming and the media was everywhere. I began to point out that Jackson was a pervert and who would allow a 45 year old man to sleep with little boys that were not his? One by one I picked on the Jackson supporters pointing out that he had paid someone 20 million dollars to hush up for what? Things got heated when someone from the Muslim community was speaking to the media and we preached him quiet and after a few minutes he turned to face me, so the police rushed in and pulled us apart. The last thing I said to him was �what do you care about Michael the pervert�.oh yeah�.I forgot�.Mohammad was a pervert too he married a little girl, you have much in common.� With the crowd going nuts and what might have looked like a riot ready to happen the police decided to pull the plug. I was arrested before 10AM in front of the Santa Maria courthouse.

After the police checked my stuff, padded me down and ran my name though the computer, I was uncuffed and the police began to shake my hand and thank me for being there. They repeated some of the things I was saying to the crowd and laughed, all the while slapping me on my back. They were concerned how I could stir up the crowd and I volunteered to stay across the street if they would keep an eye on the three other preachers. So I stood across the street and watched. My phone was ringing continually and even had time to do a live Christian talk show as I watched and heard the brethren from across the street. We took a break and while waiting in the car, with the radio on, we heard the news that the jury had reached a verdict.

The crowd around the courthouse grew bigger in one hour as the police began to get riot gear ready and the street was shut down. The crowd went nuts when Michael pulled in. And when the jury came with the verdict, the court house outside was very still and the mob roared each time the verdict was �not guilty.� After, they laughed, danced, mocked the Christians, threw confetti and had one big orgasm.

So I wanted to go back to my house in the Los Angeles suburbs and get as many white neighbors to chant with fists in the air �No justice, No peace� and burn our houses down to make a statement. Then grab any black man driving a truck and beat him as we dance around with hands raised. Once our suburbs were burned good we would start looting stores for the cause, except of course those that are �white� owned.

ONE PROBLEM!

No one thinks like that where I live, so I guess I will just wait for the next time Michael Jackson rapes another boy and do I long for Judgment Day.

From the WATCHTOWER:

Ruben Israel.

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