Well, maybe it’s time to rethink my stance on eugenics*, because when the right people cleanse the earth of those who shouldn’t breed-is that a bad thing??

Three year old boy shot by his father-his father, a cop.

Are eugenics really a bad thing? I don’t know-I am rethinking my position right now (and also thinking about how that coon that was in a trap last night, was gone this morning! )

But my oh my–I have been shot, died and woken up robbed after my interactions with law enfarcement and their associates–I have been Tasered–shot in the back–, beaten, and jailed so many times my head can’t count them all-and every time I was found innocent/ which is never innocent in pig naration–and innocence means nothing, to  very little in America-innocence is GUILT!

Innocence is proof that:

1) ‘dirty rotten am-byoo-lance chasing lawyers stick up for the bad guys, and the bad guys weasel out of it all the time!’ (those weasels!!! I remember being forced to wrestle with boys who were twice my weight in gym class–it seems that the sadist who ran gym class either had great intentions of affirming or re-inforcing my gender, or, he merely wanted to create a humiliating spectacle for the other boys to leer upon, as I hefted fat fuckers, one after another, off of me, and won matches based on creativity alone.

Oh-I lost my share too…but I often wonder what the stories of these ubermen and women would look like if they opened up-and broke the thin blue line–broke the silence barrier, and told us what is it in them exactly that feels that they must be loyal to sex and gender programming at any cost? Isn’t freedom, after all, about choice–about being FREE to NOT be bullied into gendered narratives? How about just–not being bullied? Maybe not–says CHelsea Manning, maybe not…)

2) some tricks were done–we don’t know what tricks, but, yeah–some tricks were done to fuck up the cases of good, realy altruisticaly good cops with god cop narratives,  law enfarcers who were just doin’ their jobs! AND, the millstone: if you are truly innocent-why did cops GET YOU for something in the first place!!!!!!!!!! Yeah, innocent alright (did I mention the cop who wrote my 12 year old sister love notes? NO? Did I mention the cop whose daughter abused my daughter? NO? How about –the cops wife who was fucking my barely post pubescent brother? No? Well, so much how about, that I have been sick over it for decades!

3) When innocence is an option–the cop narrative ALWAYS defaults to “not for long’ They will do everything and ANYTHING in their power to corrupt the records that corroborate innocence–EVERY time. And that, for decades. Meanwhile, they will avoid the more dificult conclusions, and alow real actual suspects to skate–because they donlt fit the profile, or because the case would be more difficult to make (I am remembering one such case, where I watched the daughter of a cop do horrible things to a defenseless person–and that daughter saying ‘if you call the cops, I will call my dad, and he will say he witnessed x an x and x. ‘ And so forth.

It’s a tough life, going to trial and it’s your ex’s dad in the court room as bailiff. Could Mamasota be any more incestuous? Sadly, as time will tell the answer is ‘yes. without a doubt, yes.’

And–they ‘got’ me every time alright-because, of course I am and was innocent of everything-nothing in me will or ever has been able to subvert truth, or destroy my own trust in words enough to adopt the methods of CYA and so forth. Nope. someone has to be a holdout for end product, right?

Yup–maybe this raccoon? No? How about this one? No? Fruitflies? NO? Well, you are on your own-subvert away! I live to trap-I trap to live.

AND-the trap of that night had been moved four feet. It’s a mystery-but I have observed elsewhere that raccoons make attempts to free one another once entrapped-I think their is a thick black mask of subterfuge involved, but yes, coons try to free each other once they are soundly, and most often definitively entrapped.

Here is a bit about that.

Well, you get the picture–for some of us, racoons are cute little creatures of nature-cute rascals that sneak around at night, but generally don’t harm anyone. Except once in awhile, and that, rare–extremely rare, the experts tell us.

And, coons chewing kids to bits? EXTREMELY MORE RARE-say the experts, or something like that–because, most likely, the experts aren’t in the field studying coons more often. Or, because most kids sleep atr night, when coons sneakaround and do their coonie bidness.

Apparently, just not enough political interest to generate press about coons mauling kids in America–apparently, there is no voice either, and little ‘taste’ involved in showing what it looks like for Americans killing children  overseas, either, though, sometimes these narratives hit the papers: one little girl gets a new ear to hear with, after coons chewed off her face, and then some.

Girl Mauled by Raccoon to Get New Ear on Thursday

Really–I am not that much different than the average bystander–I think coons are cute, too. I wish I could hug them, and squeeze their lil fat bodies!

But the problem with coons? They are wild animals–think they own the night–that they are impervious to the exact kinds of things that they perpetrate on us-tearing up my bulbs, and my seedlings; rooting through my compost pit and leaving all the watermelon rinds in the yard–and killing my potted sunflowers!

Unforgivable, that last one. Slightly less forgivable than eating some 50% of my bulbs, but, in some small way, understandable.

Now–the eugenic problem: modern coons, especially in America, think they are impervious–unapproachable, and above the law. THere are too many of them. I can’t say it any more plainly.

Which makes me look twice, every time one of them-or in this case, a couple of them, implode upon their own-I have never done that, though the thought of it tempted me at times;-)

Married police officers arrested in fatal shooting

In the story above, we have local law enfarcers gunning down the mate of their daughter–and even shooting at the daughter, who survived. And, ironically-sardonically–I cannot think that this is wrong. I am moray bankrupt in this area–I have no feelings of negativity associated with such acts, when they direct those acts at their own, and each other.

In fact, I laugh out loud, like a psychopath every time a cop kills one of their own, or their kids! Why, as a bogeyman, I am ‘just doin’ mah job…’

What I find most striking is this–and it is an open ended question, for those who are knowledgeable: why, oh why, do police officers fetishize their daughters so? Why do they inhabit the mental space to presume that they can, or should or “ought or must” control who their daughters love-or breed with–who their daughters seek dialogue with, about their daughters own vaginas–and the conversations that vaginas have amongst themselves, about breeding?

Put another way-why are cops obsessed with ramming breeding narative bullets up the cunts of kids? And sometimes, their own?

I really am at a loss on that one–but I can tell you from anecdotal experience? I have in my life banged a few cop daughters (crazy in the head, crazy in the bed)–a few cop wives (“He’s crazy! So controlling!” I am scared every day that he is there!” And my personal favorite: “When I was pregnant, Iwaited for him to come home. He never came. He didn’t even care that I was pregnant. The baby died in my stomach, and I weighed as much as a child when the baby died”*)

Never was I there simply for the banging, if you get my drift (Google search that phrase, you ardent linguists in the crowd). No–I was there for the stories. For the glimpse that I got from inside the bedroom windows of the people who spent decades looking in my own.

How did I do that, you ask-after all, I was under your watch the whole time right? That is a later conversation.

Nope-since my teens and beyond, I was stymied in my research in one particular area of law: the privileged narratives of the locally owned wives and daughters of cops; the privileged narratives of child abuse survivors who somehow escaped the scrutiny of upper echelon law enfarcement, and the ‘care’ that was a purported ‘duty’ of these cops–which, on my research reveals less than care, and more of demented narratives of power, and that power which destroys the innocence of their own daughters–the survivors of inter-genrational pimpology–who first brought such narratives of power to my attention.

Well, anyways, raccoons-this guy is the murderer, if you have followed along thus far. The murderer, below:

DSC00406

The murderer, below
Compare his eyes to the murderer below–and even then, ask yourself the imperative question: ” Exactly why is it that I should study raccoon behavior??” Of course, for the wizened, the answer always comes down to : “Because if you don’t, morons-complete morons– will write blog posts mocking your ability to remember faces–and some of those faces? Even after ten years, I personally have not forgotten. I could pick them out of a lineup. So, here, for the mockers, is a face. Have fun kids-and stay SAFE!

First: the MAP!

Then: the other murderers–clowns! let’s argue about his(….his?) features; and why?

this:

98031-john-wayne-gacy

Happy hunting, coons!

note to self: remember–when you hitch-hiked across America, and encountered weird, “othered” narratives?

Yeah–go back there, and also remember how many homeless youth you sheltered; how many homeless shelters you slept in; but NEVER, NEVER forget the narratives you have learned since-those narratives of power that cause others to donate to charities that shelter the homeless–and me, too.

Go fuck yourself, internet threateners_ I am not alone, nor was I ever;-)

Now-piss off, and UP THE IRA! Either way you wanna have at it? I will rob your pockets blind. And give it all where it needs to go–as I did just today-again, and again, and again.

Why DO YOU stalk me anyways-it certainly isn’t for the hunting–is it? Which is neither here nor there–I Know you, and you think you know me, which could be dangerous, in a court-room–wouldn’t you agree? Because YOUR narrative has been stopped in its tracks-and time is indeed on my side, killer.

Killer. Hey, killer-where you been? Yeah–I have a steady stream of narratives that will, and can, and do discuss that, in real life, not just in some honeypot.

Doesn’t even matter–but to this guy (see above picture of coon caught in trap) I imagine time is of the essence, right–he might do ANYTHING to get out of it.

Yeah.

That’s why I am NOT a coon. I am patently adverse to the idea that entrapment is a necessary, or even wholesome enterprise.

Why? Because who the hell knows what coons think anyways? Maybe–just maybe, the coon in the trap has been here before-and it depends upon democracy to free him, or allow the trapper to deport him.

I trust Demos, despite my own precautions, and proclivities to dismiss them categorically.

 

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