Executioner’s Song

I have worked in the criminal-defense field for something like 16+ years, and before that, I wrote, as a reporter, about “crime” and “crime news,” for an additional 25 or so years.

The first and most important lesson I learned, in this realm, and when again and again and againstill in my very early 20s, can be summed up thusly: “all cops, always lie, about everything.”

There is, at root, something seriously and medically wrong about any person who would voluntarily giddy-up to a job where one’s entire being is dedicated to roaming the streets in order to scoop up other beings and lock them away in a cage.

Such people are sick. Deeply sick. They require medical attention. They are deeply, mentally ill.

Directly below, is a live video capture of the killing of Kajieme Powell, by deeply sick motherfuckers, deeply sick motherfucking cops, who swagger around all day, and all of the night, white, with badges and guns, ready to shoot any motherfucker, they might just feel like shooting.

And that’s just what they do here.

They are barely out of their car, hoisting their pants up above their donut-asses, before they are firing bullets into and killing a mentally disturbed young black man.

Because they can.

Because they don’t give a fuck.

Because this country says they can.

Because this country don’t give a fuck.

They are literally mentally ill, these donut-assed white cops coming out of the car to immediately fire nine shots into the sick black man.

All cops, everywhere in this nation, are literally mentally ill. For they have voluntarily signed up for a job where their focus in life is to kill other human beings. By either riddling their bodies with bullets, or locking them away in cages.

All these cops, must, immediately, be relieved of their badges and guns, be discharged from “the force,” and be diverted to immediate and intensive medical treatment. Only after a minimum of six medical professionals have determined that these sadsacks have been resocialized so that they no longer regard a fellow citizen as a target, may they be released back into the World. And none of them—ever—will be permitted to lay hands on a deadly weapon again.

As I said at the outset, it is an absolute fact thatall cops, always lie, about everything.”

We see this in the execution-video embedded above.

Originally, here, the pig chief, as always, as always covering for his dutiful piglets, who killed the black man, the chief pig, he oinked loudly, and publicly, that the executed, and ill, black man, had “come at” his little donut-addled oinkers, with a knife, and a knife wielded in an “overhand” position.

This is a lie.

The video, reveals it to be a lie.

Pigs—killer pigs—they are not used to citizens filming their lies.

They are used to getting away with—all the time, every time—”all cops, always lie, about everything.”

The Reality of Ferguson, Missouri, and environs, is waking not only the nation, but the world. To the fact. That there is nothing. More disgusting. More de-evolved. Than a police officer.

Except, perhaps, rat shit.

Or, more precisely: rat shit, bearing plague.

Or, maybe, a serial killer. Deploying to a foreign land. There to kill, for money, for penile purposes, people who are not him.

All, sick motherfucking you, you are over. Cops. Plagued rats. Shitheaded shitheels hooraing to go kill in foreign lands.

We are no longer in your hands. We are free.

We—free—feel this now.

And, so, you, all you all, are done.

Sing it!



I write along a single line: I never get off it. I said that you were never to kill anyone, and I meant it.

Don’t you understand? I have arisen not from the dead but from the living. I am not a voice crying in the wilderness. There is no winter here. No dark. No despair. The lights are going on in my house. I shall not allow the President of the United States to enter here. There is no darkness anywhere. There are only sick little men who have turned away from the light. I have all my lights on. And it is my own face I see in the blazing windows of all the houses on earth.

—Kenneth Patchen


1 Response to “Executioner’s Song”

  1. 1 nancy a August 21, 2014 at 9:32 am

    Not a lot of Words Left ..:/

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When I Worked

August 2014
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