It just so happened that strange acts of vandalism had happened near, and around his apartment. Yet the neighbors always seemed to want to point the finger at the boy, since after all- since birth, he had “looked suspicious”.
Now was the time for some anti-racist enjoyment.
View attachment 1175
The apartment was hit with racist propaganda against Hispanics, claiming a Mexican invasion; gangs, rapists, all the typical Trump lingo.
Nothing happened. A small response was posted, claiming that “once Trump has been impeached, racist bigotry will be a thing of the past!” To which there was a sassy retort, claiming “Trump or no Trump, y'alls racist AF.”. No further responses were seen. No actions were taken. Nothing happened. Weeks went by. A month went by. Nothing.
Next they were then hit with racist anti-christian propaganda, as well anti-christian poetry...
View attachment 1176
Unable to withstand but a mere micro-dose of their own medicine, Neighborhood Racial Watch cried out, “surveillance!”. Instantly the apartment was placed under “police surveillance.” Nothing changed. No officers moved in. No police car was present in the compound.
Now it just so happens, that the boy drove in with his nice new vehicle, perfectly, coincidentally, nicely right into the police surveillance! The boy's vehicles had been vandalized for years, with no action from police, so what an excellent opportunity this was!
All the Cosmos rang out in laughter.
Karens melted down worldwide.
Kassem Sulemani was killed.
Infuriated, the woman above the boy's apartment had another Neighborhood Racial Watchmen approach the boy, this time intercepting him as he parked in the lot. The boy sensed this person was of the “George Zimmerman” flavor. The man slunk up to his car and began by pointing out that his 2nd floor apartment had been robbed. It was bullshit. The boy detected it right away. Sensing the boy was onto him, the man's heart rate quickened. He realized this wasn't just some dumb n****r, to which he could point his finger at and accuse... The boy recommended, “surveillance!” and the conversation ended.
Upon reentering his household, once again he was intercepted by Karen. This time she walked proudly and victoriously, smiling as if she'd defeated him.
Soon after, however, the boy was seen calmly, peacefully walking Lulu to his car open carrying an AK-47.
“Zimmerman” now having been thwarted, having viewed the boy as a “threat”, yet having been able to do nothing, due to his racist cowardice – Karen was furious. She shrieked out to all corners of the globe, “shoot this man!”. Hoping for murder by proxy, she eagerly called the police (though no crime had been committed). Police were most wise and expedient in their response. They intercepted him wherever he went, finally pulling him over twice in the span of twenty minutes.
In the dead of night, at The Devil's Canyon, after being questioned, the boy asked,
“What're you guys doing out here?”
The officers responded, “Looking for a suspect.”.
“What kind of suspect?” The boy asked, grinning.
“Nevermind.” Was the response...
The boy then took his vehicle to the dealership for a routine inspection. The mechanics were caught stealing his title from the glove compartment. Once again police refused to show up. The boy waited ten minutes. He waited thirty minutes. He waited an hour....
FOUR AND ONE-HALF hours later, he was finally speaking with an officer. By then most of the staff had left. Corporate scum.
From then on there was a campaign against the boy, orchestrated by the Neighborhood Stasi. Initially they'd tried to go to his social media account to snoop. Most unfortunately for the bigots, they found his old outcry against racist bigotry, at the very job they were hoping to get him fired from. Everywhere he went, from his home town, to a faraway city, everyone looked at him with a strange fear. Unable to retaliate, Neighborhood Racial Watch began spreading the propaganda, claiming that it was the boy who was the bigot.
At night Zimmerman was witnessed interacting with the boy's vehicle, near the wheel well. The boy found that Zimmerman had punctured a covering, to expose the vehicle's VIN number. Though finding it was not stolen...was certainly a racist tragedy.
Karen then obsessed nonstop over the boy and his vehicle. She reported incessantly (over brief minutes-long periods of time) that it was parked in her spot, where no car was ever kept. She harassed the boy's mother a multitude of times; bullying her, hoping to somehow control his actions. She even reported the vehicle when it was in their own spot. A group of harassers followed the boy constantly, from the moment he left his front door, doxxing, intensely hazing in traffic, with multiple attempts to cause car accidents. The boy even caught them directly following him from the complex. Wherever he went they tried to harass him, in hopes of reactions....
Though none ever came. The boy was at peace.
After several months had passed, the boy was suffering greatly. He didn't feel welcome in most places, and his vehicle was being constantly harassed with vandalism. Yet he held fast. Lulu also suffered greatly, since much of the intense harassment made it very difficult for her to get walks and exercise, necessary for her ailing legs. Karen had even placed onions and bread crumbs around the boys yard, presumably to poison her. Zimmerman had followed the boy home on his police chopper, riding into the lot just to circle in front of the boy and leave. A scare tactic, though it had little effect. Karen had brought in her “black friend” to assist in the noise harassment, maintaining noise in shifts, in order to do it daily, for twenty-four hours.
The boy began to suffer strange symptoms. He couldn't sleep. He couldn't eat. He wasn't hungry. Each time he went to bed, his heart rate seemed to skyrocket, pounding in his ears. He broke out in cold sweats. And all the while this constant thumping and banging around from noise harassers. This lasted weeks. Soon the boy began to feel seriously ill.
Was he being poisoned..?
He felt unable to slow his heart rate, and, having not slept more than several hours for weeks on end...
The next day the boy set out on foot. He had no idea where he was going. He just knew he was going. He had no choice. The torture on his health was too much. He walked for twenty minutes, until he arrived at a small plaza. As he walked he noticed a strange arrangement. A small cone was set atop of some wires on a concrete lamp-post cylinder. It looked strangely suspicious to him. To him it seemed like a trap, perhaps an explosive device. He set Lulu down and grabbed some pebbles to test it. Nothing happened, so he approached it. He carefully lifted the cone, which was oddly bolted down on the concrete cylinder, with a large hex-bolt. There was nothing. Simply wires and plating. The boy breathed. It was odd, but it was nothing.
Still the boy decided to report it anyway. Someone had called in a fake bomb plot at his work the year before. He asked around for a phone; his was dead. Though, having forgotten the earlier smear campaign against him, he'd forgotten his status. Most people refused or seemed unwilling to help.
Then a stranger pulled up, right near the “device”. This person drove a large black pickup. The paint job was spray-paint. The man who hopped out was wearing a black shirt, with black gloves. As the boy walked over to a store front, the man from the pickup followed him, some distance away. The boy asked the store clerk if they were open, and if he could use a phone. The clerk said no. As the boy walked away, he felt a slight push against his backpack. Initially, he thought nothing of it. Yet when he checked his bag and found disorder, he took no chances. He strode up, and told the man to “Freeze!”. The boy had drawn his firearm, and told the man to lie flat, and keep his hands on his head, and visible. The man did so. Presently, someone drove up and asked “would you like us to call the police?”, the boy smiled “yes.”
Police, arrived instantly. They gave the boy the usual orders, putting him in precisely the same position as the other suspect. Eventually the boy was taken away by police.
An officer's voice drifted into his holding cell,
“...I was like, 'shoot him, shoot him!'” …
Stiffled laughter.
“Well who knows... Maybe he'll be a hero someday...” Said another.
He was imprisoned for days,
and endured the psychological tortures of prison.
He was released after a multitude of minor rights violations.
He'd even been in a prison fight, attacked by three gang-bangers. Though he remained, still, strangely confident.
Destined for victory.
Thus went the story...
Of the bigots who could not accept their defeat.
Of the boy who refused them their bigotry.
Of the gestalt that sought his destruction,
yet instead brought about its' own.
Of the Nation divided by faction;
Of the State broken through its' inaction...
And China saw it all.
Now was the time for some anti-racist enjoyment.
View attachment 1175
The apartment was hit with racist propaganda against Hispanics, claiming a Mexican invasion; gangs, rapists, all the typical Trump lingo.
Nothing happened. A small response was posted, claiming that “once Trump has been impeached, racist bigotry will be a thing of the past!” To which there was a sassy retort, claiming “Trump or no Trump, y'alls racist AF.”. No further responses were seen. No actions were taken. Nothing happened. Weeks went by. A month went by. Nothing.
Next they were then hit with racist anti-christian propaganda, as well anti-christian poetry...
View attachment 1176
Unable to withstand but a mere micro-dose of their own medicine, Neighborhood Racial Watch cried out, “surveillance!”. Instantly the apartment was placed under “police surveillance.” Nothing changed. No officers moved in. No police car was present in the compound.
Now it just so happens, that the boy drove in with his nice new vehicle, perfectly, coincidentally, nicely right into the police surveillance! The boy's vehicles had been vandalized for years, with no action from police, so what an excellent opportunity this was!
All the Cosmos rang out in laughter.
Karens melted down worldwide.
Kassem Sulemani was killed.
Infuriated, the woman above the boy's apartment had another Neighborhood Racial Watchmen approach the boy, this time intercepting him as he parked in the lot. The boy sensed this person was of the “George Zimmerman” flavor. The man slunk up to his car and began by pointing out that his 2nd floor apartment had been robbed. It was bullshit. The boy detected it right away. Sensing the boy was onto him, the man's heart rate quickened. He realized this wasn't just some dumb n****r, to which he could point his finger at and accuse... The boy recommended, “surveillance!” and the conversation ended.
Upon reentering his household, once again he was intercepted by Karen. This time she walked proudly and victoriously, smiling as if she'd defeated him.
Soon after, however, the boy was seen calmly, peacefully walking Lulu to his car open carrying an AK-47.
“Zimmerman” now having been thwarted, having viewed the boy as a “threat”, yet having been able to do nothing, due to his racist cowardice – Karen was furious. She shrieked out to all corners of the globe, “shoot this man!”. Hoping for murder by proxy, she eagerly called the police (though no crime had been committed). Police were most wise and expedient in their response. They intercepted him wherever he went, finally pulling him over twice in the span of twenty minutes.
In the dead of night, at The Devil's Canyon, after being questioned, the boy asked,
“What're you guys doing out here?”
The officers responded, “Looking for a suspect.”.
“What kind of suspect?” The boy asked, grinning.
“Nevermind.” Was the response...
The boy then took his vehicle to the dealership for a routine inspection. The mechanics were caught stealing his title from the glove compartment. Once again police refused to show up. The boy waited ten minutes. He waited thirty minutes. He waited an hour....
FOUR AND ONE-HALF hours later, he was finally speaking with an officer. By then most of the staff had left. Corporate scum.
From then on there was a campaign against the boy, orchestrated by the Neighborhood Stasi. Initially they'd tried to go to his social media account to snoop. Most unfortunately for the bigots, they found his old outcry against racist bigotry, at the very job they were hoping to get him fired from. Everywhere he went, from his home town, to a faraway city, everyone looked at him with a strange fear. Unable to retaliate, Neighborhood Racial Watch began spreading the propaganda, claiming that it was the boy who was the bigot.
At night Zimmerman was witnessed interacting with the boy's vehicle, near the wheel well. The boy found that Zimmerman had punctured a covering, to expose the vehicle's VIN number. Though finding it was not stolen...was certainly a racist tragedy.
Karen then obsessed nonstop over the boy and his vehicle. She reported incessantly (over brief minutes-long periods of time) that it was parked in her spot, where no car was ever kept. She harassed the boy's mother a multitude of times; bullying her, hoping to somehow control his actions. She even reported the vehicle when it was in their own spot. A group of harassers followed the boy constantly, from the moment he left his front door, doxxing, intensely hazing in traffic, with multiple attempts to cause car accidents. The boy even caught them directly following him from the complex. Wherever he went they tried to harass him, in hopes of reactions....
Though none ever came. The boy was at peace.
P A N D E M I C.
The Virus of the Crown
The Virus of the Crown
After several months had passed, the boy was suffering greatly. He didn't feel welcome in most places, and his vehicle was being constantly harassed with vandalism. Yet he held fast. Lulu also suffered greatly, since much of the intense harassment made it very difficult for her to get walks and exercise, necessary for her ailing legs. Karen had even placed onions and bread crumbs around the boys yard, presumably to poison her. Zimmerman had followed the boy home on his police chopper, riding into the lot just to circle in front of the boy and leave. A scare tactic, though it had little effect. Karen had brought in her “black friend” to assist in the noise harassment, maintaining noise in shifts, in order to do it daily, for twenty-four hours.
The boy began to suffer strange symptoms. He couldn't sleep. He couldn't eat. He wasn't hungry. Each time he went to bed, his heart rate seemed to skyrocket, pounding in his ears. He broke out in cold sweats. And all the while this constant thumping and banging around from noise harassers. This lasted weeks. Soon the boy began to feel seriously ill.
Was he being poisoned..?
He felt unable to slow his heart rate, and, having not slept more than several hours for weeks on end...
The next day the boy set out on foot. He had no idea where he was going. He just knew he was going. He had no choice. The torture on his health was too much. He walked for twenty minutes, until he arrived at a small plaza. As he walked he noticed a strange arrangement. A small cone was set atop of some wires on a concrete lamp-post cylinder. It looked strangely suspicious to him. To him it seemed like a trap, perhaps an explosive device. He set Lulu down and grabbed some pebbles to test it. Nothing happened, so he approached it. He carefully lifted the cone, which was oddly bolted down on the concrete cylinder, with a large hex-bolt. There was nothing. Simply wires and plating. The boy breathed. It was odd, but it was nothing.
Still the boy decided to report it anyway. Someone had called in a fake bomb plot at his work the year before. He asked around for a phone; his was dead. Though, having forgotten the earlier smear campaign against him, he'd forgotten his status. Most people refused or seemed unwilling to help.
Then a stranger pulled up, right near the “device”. This person drove a large black pickup. The paint job was spray-paint. The man who hopped out was wearing a black shirt, with black gloves. As the boy walked over to a store front, the man from the pickup followed him, some distance away. The boy asked the store clerk if they were open, and if he could use a phone. The clerk said no. As the boy walked away, he felt a slight push against his backpack. Initially, he thought nothing of it. Yet when he checked his bag and found disorder, he took no chances. He strode up, and told the man to “Freeze!”. The boy had drawn his firearm, and told the man to lie flat, and keep his hands on his head, and visible. The man did so. Presently, someone drove up and asked “would you like us to call the police?”, the boy smiled “yes.”
Police, arrived instantly. They gave the boy the usual orders, putting him in precisely the same position as the other suspect. Eventually the boy was taken away by police.
An officer's voice drifted into his holding cell,
“...I was like, 'shoot him, shoot him!'” …
Stiffled laughter.
“Well who knows... Maybe he'll be a hero someday...” Said another.
He was imprisoned for days,
and endured the psychological tortures of prison.
He was released after a multitude of minor rights violations.
He'd even been in a prison fight, attacked by three gang-bangers. Though he remained, still, strangely confident.
Destined for victory.
Thus went the story...
Of the bigots who could not accept their defeat.
Of the boy who refused them their bigotry.
Of the gestalt that sought his destruction,
yet instead brought about its' own.
Of the Nation divided by faction;
Of the State broken through its' inaction...
And China saw it all.