BURN, BITCH!! BURN

http://www.cfnews13.com/News/Sidebar/2008/7/17/caylee_marie_anthony_disappearance_timeline.html


You will burn for this, you fucking piece of shit.

-Jack Viktor Storm Constantine Freeman

12252008

I have to say that kids these days make me sic k to my stomach. I understand that the problem is coming from their worthless parents, but I have to hear about the kids. There are a million directions to take, this, but since I have been on a bit of an anti-holiday tear as of late, I guess that I will bring up that children complaining about not getting presents for Christmas, while their parents can hardly pay the bills makes me think about birth control. A lot.
There are two ways to look at this; first of all, you have too many kids if you cannot support them without living hand-to-mouth. That’s just the facts. Second, well, you can’t put the kid back, but you wouldn’t have to hear them whine about being the only kid on the block without a Wii, PS3 and XBOX 360 stacked on top of each other and a brand new copy of Call of Duty for each console, if you never got the wild hair to make the ungrateful stain in the first place. I have found that if your kids have that attitude past the age of innocence, then they stay that way as adults. Please, there are enough 20-somethings in Scottsdale, Arizona like that as it is already. More on that later.
I was raised poor. Not the poor that I was able to still hold my head high, and yet thankfully not Appalachian poor, either. No, I was somewhere in the middle. Like there was a lot of eating long-spoiled food, and ill-fitting clothes, bathing in well water (all time favorite, folks), and there were more mornings with no lights than I would care to recall. Out of practice, I don’t celebrate holidays because on my birthdays I was lucky if I got well-wishing- scratch that, I never received as much as a “happy birthday”, so I learned that Christmas was going to just be another day shivering in the garage that I was told was my bedroom (as a fun fact, there was a bedroom that was fully insulated and heated which I was never actually told why I was unable to use).
What is interesting to even me, is that I’m not bitter. On the same side of that Susan B. Anthony, don’t try to curry some sympathy from me because you can’t afford to get your kids everything on their list. Feed them and keep them warm, don’t let them grow up to be me. If they complain, kick the shit out of them. Trust me, it works.

-jack

Grown-ass Man

I am not your homeboy, your g-dogg, funky fresh beatmaster, or whatever you gleaned from your hours of MTV or (may God Herself Forbid), BET and deemed appropriate to use to address another adult. Just in case you hadn’t been told otherwise, please allow me to make it known that I am not on Earth to entertain you- I don’t care what Lil’ Wayne says. I am not impressed by the terrible excuse for a Jamaican accent that you predictably don to try to get into my good graces when I tell you where my family is from. It would be laughable, if you weren’t so damned ignorant. On that note, I am not growing dreadlocks because you think that “it would look cool”. You obviously have no clue what they represent, and no, I do not think that it is okay that you grew them. My culture is not to be used as your fad, and your culture being devoid of soul, irrevocably unoriginal, and fundamentally vapid is not our fault. Come up with something on your own. I will not freestyle at your parties. My culture, my people are not here for you.

My last name is Freeman, not motherfucking Bojangles.

News Flash: Black people have been in America since the early 1600’s. Guess what? We have been speaking English for almost the entire time. In 2008, I have found that my speech surpasses yours, but don’t you fucking dare assume that I will lower myself and speak as if I was some caricature that you wish to emulate on television as if I didn’t have any class. I understand that you were raised by your television, and that reading books is gay, but unlike the bullshit that you are trying to blackface yourself into, I promise that we are capable of far more than “damn, shit, and that is wack”. This I promise to you. I have seen myself do it millions of times.

What kills me is that I have to endure this in professional situations as well. I have since completely abandoned the club scene, because the American lust for conspicuous consumption and “shine” sickens and bores me, but more on that later. I work in admissions for a university. I expect to be around people whom even if they are lacking, could pretend that they are of some modicum of breeding. An iota, please. I dress professionally, I wear little, if any jewelry, and I speak with impeccable diction and grammar. So why, goddamnit pray tell, do you believe that it is even remotely acceptable to address me as if I was your drug dealer? Never mind the fact that white kids are asking me if I am carrying drugs to sell everywhere I go, I can’t even get the respect that I have earned in my own office!

I bet that I know how I am beginning to seem to some of you, and I am sure that I am coming off as the stereotypical “angry black man” (one can only hope for so much), but you would be too. If not worse, that is. Allow me to explain; consider for a moment, that during your formative years, any depiction found anywhere of the people whom you most resemble are pimps, street hustlers, addicts, cowards, idiots, thugs, gang members, or worse. Now with that negative stereotype galvanizing the perspective of said people, how will you feel when one day, you find an intelligent, respectable, driven, worldly youth of the same culture? I mean this person would have the skills that it would take to make a successful life for themselves as an adult, right?

Geeeyaaaaaaadayum.

Please tell me that you are fucking kidding me.

Growing up, because I used an authority of speech, and read books, I was called an Uncle Tom, and worse. I had to deal with being ostracized by the only people in my community that looked like me because I refused to idolize gangsta rappers and act out with thuggish behavior. I guess my common sense gland was a tad overdeveloped at such a tender age. Getting shot or shot at? No thank you. Living off of the state with no income? Hell no! Eschewing knowledge and success for a family that I could not support and a life of self-hatred and drudgery? Are you insane? Losing my freedom, and going to jail; effectively ruining my chances to live a long, happy, and productive life, not to mention forfeiting my right to vote? Pass.

Don’t you dare try to relate to me with your childish attempts to mock me.

-jack

"This is a farewell... you dog!!"

Damn, all that coke must have given my nigga some superhuman fucking reflexes.

-jack

State of the Nation Pt:1

The one key component that almost all politicians glaze over without any consideration: the home. If you can teach your children the benefit of taking care of themselves and being a contributing member of society, they WILL ALMOST NEVER LEARN. There are a few inconsistencies, situations in which the child had a great opportunity to do NOTHING with their life. Us, for example. I very well could be in a lee county jail for drugs like 60% of everyone that we grew up with, and if you weren’t born with your entrepreneurial spirit and independence (not to mention inhuman work ethic), you would could have become the greatest Lehigh Special of all. For those who were not born with it, there needs to be less of a safety net, and more of a support system. Children need to learn to stand on their own, and work, for Odin’s sake. Seriously. I hate listening to kids (and adults, for that matter) these days. They don’t care. The entitlement that they believe that everything that they want, they deserve, regardless of whether they worked for it or not. Even worse, is those who are beaten down by their surroundings, their family, dragged down by their peers, and never learn to believe in themselves. They spend their entire lives just barely surviving and waiting to die. It makes me sick, and it makes me want to cry.

-jack

Caylee Marie Anthony

July 15th, 2008, a 911 call was placed by Cindy Anthony. She showed concern that she had not seen her granddaughter for several weeks, and a strange smell gave her cause for alarm.

July 17th, 2008, Casey is charged with child neglect, lying to investigators and interfering with a criminal investigation.

July 22nd, the judge sets a $500,000 bail. Not bad.

August 9th, Caylee would be three.

August 20th, Leonard and Tony Padilla post Casey's bond (what the fuck?)

August 29th, Casey is rearrested on unrelated charges.

Aug. 30th, Casey's new bond is set for charges other than Caylee's disappearance. Regardless of wether or not the new bond is posted, she remains in jail.

Sept. 5, Anonymous $500,000 bond post releases Casey Anthony.

Sept. 15, Casey again is taken into custody, though not for charges concerning her daughter.

Sept. 16, Again, she is released on bond; again, she is fitted with an ankle bracelet.

Oct. 14, Casey Anthony is indicted on seven counts, including murder one, aggravated child abuse, aggravated manslaughter and four counts of providing false information.

Oct. 15, No bond.

Oct. 24, Hair that resembles hair from her daughter's hair brush and chloroform are found in her trunk.

Fast forward to December 11, 2008.

"Judge Stan Strickland postpones the murder trial of Casey Anthony. A new status hearing is set for Jan. 15. Jose Baez files motion to preserve and inspect evidence and forensics in Thursday's discovery of remains found one-quarter of a mile away from the Anthony home."

December 12, authorities state that the remains are possibly that of Caylee Anthony based off the age, size, measurements, and location (less than a half-mile from the home). DNA results should be in within the next 14 days.

I had to listen to that child sing. If your daughter was dropped in a bag in the woods to be pissed on by a meter reader, burn, bitch. I hope you fucking burn. I will smile as you burn, you fucking pig bitch.



***I took all of my info from a Central Florida news website
http://www.cfnews13.com/News/Sidebar/2008/7/17/caylee_marie_anthony_disappearance_timeline.html?refresh=1

-jack

I know just enough to know that I don’t know shit.

In twenty six years, I have found that though smarter than many of my peers, I still don’t know a damned thing. There are entire worlds of knowledge, and disciplines of thought that I will never even hear about in my lifetime. There are songs from genres that I will never hear, books authored by people from countries that I will never be able to find on a map. There are approximately 6.7 billion (with a fucking capital goddamn “B”) people on this planet. I will meet, maybe- one hundred thousand, to pull a number out of my ass, but that is 1/60,000!!

Keep all of that in your bean for a second; with all of that knowledge, and wisdom, and experience- much predating modern memory by thousands of years, what exactly gives anyone the gall to say that their religion is the one true Way?

Do you know? I’ll wait…

…

Nothing? Really? Huh. You don’t say… Here’s where I make it about me again. For some background, I was raised in a Christian household. My mother is a Jehovah’s Witness, and much of the rest of my family is either non-practicing or Agnostic. I hold on to my Judeo-Christian beliefs at the core, but I realize that there were religions LONG before mine, and even though I pray to Yahweh, I don’t ignore similarities between the nine biggest religions on Earth (link)- not only do they share messages, many of them have the same figures at the core!

If you couldn’t tell before now, I am not the best representative for any religion. I drink, I used to do drugs, I profane, and I don’t really care about how others see me. I don’t attend any particular place of worship, either. I had one last bad experience, so I am wary. More on that later. I don’t want to be the guy who plays the pious man in public, but is a heathen in private. I am always honest about my faults and failings. It’s painful, but the other option is being a discredit to my faith. No reason to lie.

What really bugs the hell out of me is when people try to do the holier-than-thou, but is just as much of a secular bastard as I am. If you are hellbound, on Monday, don’t bother being heavenly on Sunday. Own it. I just hate to hear people talk about love and acceptance and kindness… as long as you are a member of their religion, or their church, or on the particular board at the church, or worship on the right nights. Honestly, truthfully, and with my entire heart…

Fuck you.

-jack