September 28, 2007 | Tags: none
I’ll be honest: I’ve purposely refused to throw my own gauntlet down when it came to the case of the Jena 6 because quite honestly I can not lean towards one particular side. On one hand, I can’t help but feel some remorse for all the teenagers and families involved, as it was ridiculously insipid to attempt to try kids who haven’t even developed enough fur under their chins to be considered an adult as adults. For no legal action to happen to the idiots who thought that throwing nooses in a tree was a joke was retarded, and essentially gives that city’s denizens the notion that it’s also alright to chain someone to the back of a rusty pickup and drag them a few miles.
At the same time, I don’t really feel sorry for the shit the Jena (Gina? Jenna?) 6 are going through in the first place. Call me heartless, but the simple fact of the matter is that these kids stomped out the ever-loving shit out of another human being. Whether the victim was white or not, that’s still wrong on all kinds of levels. While the initial punishment was extremely exaggerated and unnecessary, comparing the following protests to the Civil Rights Movement four decades ago was just idiotic. I never saw Dobermans biting chunks of ass out of those protestors, but then I’m fucked up like that.
In actuality, the entire fiasco brought back memories of the circus act that was
Detective Nordberg's murder case that happened in my city some thirteen years ago. I’m not comparing the two trials, mind you; I find it interesting how people will instantly jump to conclusions on some random-ass issue when it’s glaringly obvious they don’t know the half of it in the first place, like the time all those asscunts ran up on the freeways holding “Free OJ!” signs during his rather fruity low-speed chase. The fact that every channel broadcasting it cancelled out my TGIF programming, but I digress.
Interestingly enough, as soon as OJ was acquitted, many of his supporters were quick to push duke – who had long ditched Blacks for White people and Hertz commercials, before he went all liquid swords to Nicole’s tonsils – to the left, once they realized they let a killer walk free, disowning him like deadbeat parents do their children. And now with his
latest foray into the Ski Mask Way not really helping matters, it makes me wonder if they start to ignore Mychal Bell, now that he recently
got sprung from the pokey, once Sweet Daddy Grace inevitably decides to direct his wallet toward the next “racially motivated” case. Not to sound like a racist or anything, but in the rare case I get sent up the river on some pent up, exaggerated charges, I wouldn’t want A Pimp Named Slickback trying to get me off the hook. I can barely afford my rent sometimes; Lord knows I couldn’t even spot his premium.
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