Fast Eddie Friday...Fear and Loathing in Kansas City

Stop the spin and let me off. It's been a busy week here and around the city. The levels of stupidity and thick headedness have reached epic proportions. My bloggy business is pointing out and ridiculing the perpetrators of moronic behavior. And baby business is BOOMIN!!!

I've got a couple of points I want to make on the Waldo Rapist thing. But first let me just say that this will be my last post on the subject until something actually happens concerning the case. When KCTV 5 lead the news with the famous scary voice guy, promising to take us inside the mind of the rapist, in all his scary voicedness, for me that was the breaking point. The media has finally managed to strip away any semblance of responsible reporting. And while I could give a shit less how many middle class reactionary people I piss off, I don't take rape or any form of sexual abuse lightly. So out of respect to the victims, something that has been lost among the more militant segment of the Waldo activists and media, after today I'll keep my dog out of the fight, unless the guy is caught, or in the event that another attack takes place, or god forbid, should some Vigilante screw up.

That said I would be a major hypocrite and a bigger douche bag than normal, if I failed to comment on the two latest bits O news coming out of Waldo.
There was a prayer walk/vigil thing in Waldo last night. Not for nothin, but that's been done to death already.
Prayer walks are about as useful as a condom at a convent. Folks have walked holes in the sidewalk in areas that have more crime before noon , than Waldo sees in a year. I suppose it's a nice sentiment and all, and hopefully it makes someone feel better, but you can't pray away a rapist, and everyone in the Metro, including the rapist is well aware that everyone is watching. All he needs to do is read facebook and watch the news. I'm going to guess that all of the attention will push this guy to a different part of town. Good news for the folks around Waldo and Brookside, bad news for his next hunting ground. There is always the possibility that he will strike in the area again, but he is gonna need to get a wig and some face paint. Same goes for any chubby bald black Jehovah's witnesses.

Now to our Hero.

The genius who chased a guy over to Quindaro has broken his silence. Well actually his wife did it for him first. But to his credit, I did read that he admitted he was overzealous and made a mistake. As it turns out, KCTV 5 interviewed the man who was followed, this would be the same guy who was referred to as " another scumbag" over on the Lets get this prick Facebook page. There has been plenty of talk about how he had warrants, turns out he had a couple of traffic warrants. It also turns out he was just as scared as the douche that followed him to his home. Oh, and other than being black he doesn't fit the description. Still the self entitled morons continue to call the hunter, a hero. It's important to note that other than claims by the man who followed the guy to his home, there is no evidence and there have been no charges of gun fire. I could spend the rest of this post ripping into the numerous knuckleheads over on Facebook who are still busy talking about cutting off peoples meat whistles, and showing each other pictures of their guns, much like little boys crossing swords while peeing their names into the snow. But that's too easy.


However, as you all know, I'm still in my transitional period, and I don't want to hurt, I want to help. Based on the composite sketch, and the numerous comments on Facebook and in the news, I think I have some suspects the police should take a look at.
This first suspect is clearly trying to be all incognito and shit. But he does loosely fit the description.
This next guy I saw on TV just last night. I have no idea who he is, but he was sitting in between two white ladies and some smarmy British prick. And he was using street slang, he kept saying "kind of pitchy Dawg". I'm sure this fucker is The Guy. Besides, he was wearing epaulets on his jacket, and I hate that shit.

This cat is obviously a good candidate, he has priors, a deep voice, and a bald head.

And last but not least, there is this dude. As you can see he is stalking that nice Norwegian lady.
Say what? None of these guys look like the suspect? What can I tell you, seems to be a lot of that going around these days. While none of these men are really the Waldo rapist, if you toss them in a car, have them drive through waldo after dark, you can bet your ass someone will call the police or worse, take the law in to their own hands.

I actually have a point, one that seems to be getting lost in the frenzy. One that is of little importance to the facebook lynch mob and street vigilantes. There are 5, count em, 5 victims . Unlike the tools who are playing tough guy with a gun on face book, these victims want the right guy to be caught. The 5 victims deserve justice, and they also deserve some dignity and respect. Turning the horrific crime these women were subjected to, into an excuse to spout racially charged, violent, one liners, from the safety of facebook and comment sections, is disgraceful and it's disrespectful to the victims. While popular sentiment seems to be that anyone loosely fitting a composite sketch is fair game, it sets a bad precedent, and it invades the privacy and lives of innocent people. This isn't a game of cowboys and black guys. Lives have been forever changed, and contrary to the media hype and facebook ramblings, this isn't about citizens chasing random black men through the streets. Nobody is going to catch this creep by being a facebook killa, or by playing whack-a-mole and knocking on the doors of every black man in Waldo.

Stay safe, have a good weekend.

Charlie Bronson comes to Waldo.........

Just when I am giving credit to the folks in Waldo for taking a proactive stance on crime, namely the Waldo Rapist, some nimrod tries to play Charlie Bronson. This self appointed vigilante, and yes Virginia, THE GUY IS A VIGILANTE, chases a random black man who he figured fit the description. Never mind that the black guy is in a car, no need to be bothered with shit like height and weight. Our hero chases/stalks his prey, from I'm guessing the Waldo area, across the state line in to Kansas, the Dot no less. He follows his target to his home, and apparently sits there long enough for the hunted to become the hunter. Dude comes out of his house with a gun, allegedly, and allegedly shoots at our hero. Lets forget for a minute that it turns out that the guy is not the rapist according to the cops. No need to worry about minor details like innocence or guilt. And this lynch mob mentality extends beyond some random knuckle head who decided to play street cop.

You need look no further than the facebook page entitled,
Lets Find This Prick is on Facebook.
I'll admit, it's a catchy title, and an understandable sentiment. The facebook page was a good idea, now it's in the running for it's own reality special, When good ideas go Bad!!!

Here are a few gems from the Wall of the page.

Travis Sanchez This mother fucker needs to be lit on fire then while he is screaming in pain, needs to be shot in the back of the fucking head. LOW LIFE PIECE OF SHIT.

Nice! It's good to see folks are keeping things in perspective and productive.

Michael Muller his face bothers me... just wanna stab him in his neck.

Not to be outdone

Maria N Smith it wasnt him sorry guys. but the guy we were concerned about that was doing the shooting has been caught. so.... one more scum bag off the streets..... yay as for the rapist, if your on here, you better watch it. people are tired of you shit. you are going down one way or another!!!!

and again

Russell Taylor I'M PRETTY SURE I WOULDN'T CALL THE COPS IF I SAW HIS MUG IN PERSON!!!

And finally this gem

Caren Klebenstone Smith He better pray the KCMO Police find him before someone else does! If you do see him, be sure to drag him on your property....justifiable homicide.

The thing these people have either overlooked, or ignored, just seeing someone who looks like a composite sketch, does not make that person the perp. There is a very real danger that the wrong guy could get shot by one of these genius types who are posting this shit.

As if that wasn't enough, the KCK chapter of the Guardian Angels are trying to get in on the act via the same facebook page. They have had zero effect on the East Side and in KCK. If they get involved in Waldo it will only create a carnival atmosphere.

I'm sure they will all show up in one little tiny car that does wheelies and has a OOOgah horn.
And yes that is actually them in the photo.

And the hits keep coming. But you can go to the link and read them for yourself. This facebook mess has more rubs to it , than a group of fat guys in an elevator. The thing that bothers me the most, isn't that some clown is following random people, who vaguely fit a composite sketch, from within the confines of a car, in the dark, that may or may not fit a sketchy description of a car, that may or may not have been involved........whew! Do you see where that run on sentence was headed?

3,000 members plus, 2 moderators, and not a single person has called these people out. There are however lots of thumbs ups, and comments of the same ilk.

Instead of calmer voices prevailing, rather than having a little respect for the serious nature of what the victims have been through., Never that, we have a group 3000 strong, condoning what is tantamount to a lynch mob. As each comment sinks further into a mob mentality, not one person has addressed them. Suggesting that someone kill a guy who happens to resemble the physical description, then drag him into their yard, so they can get away with it, is a level of fucked uppedness that defies all reason. I still want to believe calmer heads will prevail, and hope whoever is moderating that facebook page gets their shit together before somebody ends up killing an innocent man, or winds up getting a Full Hood Monty Beat Down for following random black dudes to places folks from Waldo shouldn't be going. So here's a few tips and advice for the people who think Falling Down was a documentary.


1. You can't, I repeat can't, shoot a random black guy just for being fat, bald , black , and on your block. My postman is fat, bald, and black, so stay out of my neighborhood with that bullshit. This guy gets my mail to me between 9 and 10 A.M., like clockwork. Anybody fucks that up, and we are gonna have issues. You also can't stab someone in the neck because you don't like his face. For starters it might be the wrong person.


2. If you do see a guy who fits the description, and you do shoot him, dragging him into your yard won't keep you from getting a murder beef. It's like the old myth that if you ask a guy during a drug deal if he is a cop, and he says no, then turns out to be a cop, it's entrapment. Again, and I really can't stress this enough, you cant shoot a guy because you think he Might be The Guy. If you catch him prying open windows or jimmying doors, blast away. Otherwise cool your jets.


3. Self appointed trackers, bounty hunters, and Bruce Willis wannabees, you can't just start running around tailing every blue car that has a bald headed black guy behind the wheel. Take a license number, get a description, call 911. Tough talk of stabbing folks in the neck because you don't like his face is one thing. Taking your milquetoast ass in to the heart of KCK in pursuit of some guy who is from that area, will result in what we saw tonight, or worse. And by worse I don't mean that you might get killed or put in traction. By worse I mean that one of you hot heads will end up killing an innocent person.


4. Let the police do their job. There are more detectives involved in this case than most metro squad murder investigations. A dozen or more detectives do not need some nimrod to muddy up an investigation by playing vigilante. This isn't a real life version of Grand theft auto, or some Facebook Mafia wars rpg. It's real life, and 6 hours of handgun training, and watching a couple of NCIS marathons, does not fucking Columbo make. It just makes you a dick head totally out of your element. As the guy in the KCK incident found out, "Your a long way from Starbucks homie".


Last and most importantly, the mentality that has taken over a once well intentioned grass roots effort, is disrespectful to the 5 victims of this creep. The facebook page has sunk to the level of an internet chat room. Macabre jokes about stabbing a person based on how they look, or dragging bodies into your yard, do not resemble a group of concerned citizens, so much as a scene from Blazing Saddles, minus the humor. The focus should be on bringing a community together to stop a predator, not trying to one up one another on how to kill someone, or blow their beans and franks into vapor. The whole thing is reminiscent of sophomore boys puffing up out back of the school, in order to impress one another.


To the folks in Waldo who are taking proactive steps, absent of a mob mentality and junior high false bravado, keep up the good work. You should be pissed off, and you should be doing what you can to help catch this creep. As reasonable people, I'm certain you understand the difference between justice and a lynch mob.

To those of you who are whipping each other into a frenzy via Facebook, cracking jokes about what you would do if you saw the guy, try having a little respect for the 5 women who deserve some justice and peace of mind. Justice and peace of mind that won't be attained through some moron chasing random men through the streets of Kansas City. Or a mob mentality reminiscent of the bad old days, when a rope and a mob of white folks was a substitute for justice. If people really cared about the victims, it would serve them well to act like rational concerned human beings, rather than a torch carrying mob from an old Frankenstein flick.

What gets lost in the Waldo Rapist coverage.......

I chimed in on the Waldo Rapes when the count was at 4. Now it stands at 5, and the story dominates the news, it has become fodder for blogs, advertisement for gun shops, a boon for the security and self defense industries, everyone has an opinion or a hand in it. Short of being killed, rape is the beast every woman fears more than any other. If you are old enough to remember the heightened sense of fear and barely controlled panic during any of the Westport rape sprees, then the cases coming out of Waldo give a sense of Deja Vu. We have been here before, and it's an ugly place to be. Cases like this drive the news, the tail wags the dog. As if the crime itself weren't bad enough, the waters have been thrown in to a muddy tumultuous frappe, because race has entered the equation. So let's talk about the 250 pound pock marked elephant standing in the room.


The rapist is black, the victims have been white, the race is on. Anyone who thinks that race isn't a part of the equation is naive at best. This is a city that is divided along racial lines, always has been, and it always will be. The way you view these crimes depends upon what side of the line you reside on. If you happen to be black and living in one of the city's war zones, you probably feel some resentment toward the media coverage and the police response to the waldo rapes. If you reside on the white middle class side of the line, you probably are of the school of thought that says, black on black crime is usually a case of one thug killing another, just another causality in an ongoing war that has nothing to do with you and yours. Both schools of thought have some validity, how much depends on which side of the line you are on.

The most important part of the equation in the Waldo rapes gets lost in the media hype and the racially charged squabbling.

The victims.

The 5 women who have had the safety of their homes forever compromised don't care about disparity in coverage. They aren't concerned with the perceived racial disparity. The fact that 5 rapes by the same perp makes the odds astronomical of ever even crossing paths with rapist, doesn't matter to the 5 women who have. They have crossed paths with him, and it will impact the rest of their lives. Anyone who believes otherwise needs to check their self. For the people decrying the disparity in coverage, comparing apples to oranges, just ask yourself one question. What if it happened to my wife, my mother, my sister, a friend? Would I be appalled over the media beating this dog to death?


Let me answer that for you. No. Of course you wouldn't. The odds of meeting up with the Waldo rapist are a moot point where the 5 victims are concerned. They have met up with him, and for a very long time to come, they will continue to meet him in their nightmares, in the dark hours before dawn and in the light of day, he will always be there. The friends and family of the victims are now focused on the impossible task of trying to restore some sense of security to a person they care about. Nothing else matters, nothing else should. It's easy to lose sight of how crime effects us, until it lands in our own yard. We are a clannish people, despite our claims to the contrary. We will always care more for our own, than for someone we share little in common with. Sure, there will always be exceptions to that rule, but by and large, we only care about those we share a commonality with. People who are just like us. We will continue to fain concern for others, but it's only a way to make ourselves feel like we are a little better than the guy next door.


Five women have found themselves to be in danger, in the one place they should be safe. Their lives have been irrevocably changed for the worse. It happened to THEM. And it's the only thing that matters now. It consumes every second of every day. They didn't ask to be in the place they find themselves in, they didn't get to choose. All of the odds, the media hype, and blogger babble, including my own, might as well be taking place on Mars. Five lives have been reduced down to one terrifying moment in time. It's all there is, nothing else matters. We would all be well served to remember that fact, and if we find ourselves about to inject our own baggage, prejudice, or opinion, we should ask ourselves, what if. What if it was someone I cared about? My wife, sister, mother. What if ?

Family values take a wrong turn up a Lakeland Florida dirt road.

We live in a time where PS3 and Xbox are parental substitutes, guidance counselor, and baby sitter all rolled into one. Parents get divorced, Dad more often than not is an absentee sperm donor. Sadly, the family unit is as outdated as that bottle of Penicillin I still keep as a memento from a case of clap I contracted from a Hippie chick in the late 70's. So it warms the partly clogged arteries of my mostly jaded heart to hear of a family that still does stuff together.


Enter Edward George Weise II, and wife Ann Marie Weise, parents of 9 year old Edward George Weise III. Sure they had their problems, in fact their marriage was on the rocks, but they were able to put whatever marital problems they had aside for the sake of the kids. Ann Marie has a new beau who lives with her, young Edward III, his 20 year old sister, and Edward the II. You heard me right, even though Edward and Ann have split the proverbial marital sheets, and despite the fact that Ann was cohabitating with a new lovah boy, they still all reside in the same house. Nothing says devotion to family and preservation of the 2 parent home like listening to your wife and her new dood bang the headboard against what was once your bedroom wall.

Now that's dedication and devotion to the family unit. and it was probably that same sense of family values that prompted George the second, to include his 9 year old son in the making of an explosive device.

What? You thought this was going to be a heart warming story? Sorry, wrong blog.

Ann Marie Weise, 39, bought at least one inert grenade from an auction on U.S. Highway 98 in Lakeland about two years ago. The Lakeland Florida Sheriff's Office said that sometime around July 4, 2009, the boy and his father, 44-year-old Edward George Weise II, removed black powder from firecrackers and put the powder into the grenade. A wick also was installed in the grenade to detonate it, according to the Sheriff's Office. When the father and son attempted to set off the grenade at the time, though, the device didn't explode.


In a perfect world, or even an imperfect one, we would all breathe a collective sigh of relief, figuring that these two stellar parents would have disposed of the grenade, or at the very least pulled the wick out of it and stashed it in the closet. Then again, a former couple who still live in the same house, which I suspect is a mid 1970's single wide, probably don't go by the same play book as the rest of us. So it really comes as no surprise that Ann Marie placed the still loaded grenade in a flower pot atop the entertainment center, probably right next to a fiber optic spinning Christmas tree, or one of those wolf picture clocks made out of a slice from a tree limb and covered in shellac.

And this is where the story turns serious.

Ann saw her 9 year son playing with a lighter this past Friday. Most adults would have taken the lighter from the kid. Ann just told him to put it up. He didn't. What he did do is get the grenade down from the shelf. Unfortunately this time it worked. The 9 year old was airlifted to a local hospital with critical injuries.

No charges have been filed as of this writing, and there has been no court order issued to castrate the boys father or tie the mothers tubes into a double square knot. But there should be. Hopefully the kid will survive, and the parents will be driven from the trailer park. Every time I hear a story like this, where the home environment is more dangerous than holding a Cub Scout Jamboree in the same hotel as a NAMBLA convention, it's amazing the kids ever manage to survive as long as they have.
*** A strange thing in the news story on this incident. Apparently some of the boys classmates drew pictures, made get well cards. Not to take away from the serious nature of what transpired, but here is a money quote from the story that should leave you scratching your head.
" Kids drew pictures of Eddie playing football, digging, or riding a go-cart."

Digging? WTF?

Fast Eddie Friday...

You might recall my recent post about 120 day shock and Missouri courts routinely handing out probation, time and again. Read Pt 1 and Pt. 2 if you haven't already. So it comes as little surprise that once again, second and third chances don't mean dick to someone who doesn't have their mind right. The Star reports : A Kansas City police sniper shot and killed a suspected carjacker this afternoon as the 18-year-old man held a knife to his mother’s neck in east Kansas City.

Read more: Police sniper kills knife-wielding man in east KC - KansasCity.com

Shit gets deeper. This son of the year, who held a knife to his own mothers throat, had just received probation, twice, in the past month. A tampering case, a burglary case, a resisting case, and just for good measure, a Robbery case. After the police sniper took this prick out, his mother yelled, "You shot my son". Then went back in the house herself before coming out 10 minutes later.
Prediction time boys and girls.


It's important to note that there were domestic violence incidents on record, the son had apparently attacked his mother in the past, according to fox 4.
Mom probably paid major cheddar to keep her baby out of prison. Baby boy repays her by attempting to use her as a human shield. If the all too familiar script is played out, Mom will be coming out in the near future saying the cops shouldn't have killed her boy. A lawsuit will probably be filed for wrongful death. Much like the case in KCK where some young knuckle head got blazed by the cops after making a decision to point a gun at them. Parents let their kids run amok, then blame everyone but themselves and their spawn, when junior gets his ticket punched. While I don't discount the genuine grief people feel over losing one of their children at the hands of the police, their reaction is very telling. When it comes time to affix blame, it will be the cops , society, schools, something or someone, but never the perpetrator, never his upbringing. Never that.

Update*** I copied the mugshot of Blake Bowman, the deceased 18 year old from the KCPD website. Normally I wouldn't have taken the time to update a post with a picture unless there was something special about it. Click the pic to enbiggen. Is it just me or is there an Ironic tatt that says Mom on his neck?***

It's a wonderful world we live in.......

That's it for this week. Have a safe weekend. See you next Monday.

Kevin Smith, too fat to fly,... skinny enough to tweet.

Everyone and their cousin, and at least one Russian, have put in his two cents, or three rubles, on the Kevin Smith fiasco. For those living in a cave, Kevin Smith is the semi famous director who just became slightly more famous after being tossed off a Southwest Air flight for being too fat. Smith went on twitter and began a campaign to shame Southwest into............., well I'm not exactly sure what his goal is. Since he got kicked off the plane several days back, he has tweeted non stop about it. What I am certain of is this, Smith is a bit of a tator hog, he has a hard on for Southwest Air, a boner he is too fat to see by the way, unless he straddles a mirror. And like every other attention deficit clown in the free world, he Twitters. I know, I know, most of you Twitter as well, and if I haven't pissed you off by now, I probably will by the end of this post. I don't twit, or tweet, and I think Twitter is ruining America. Twitter should be banned like a fat guy flying coach, along with skinny jeans, political correctness, and Lady GaGa. And trust me, that's just the short list.


I know what you are thinking, Double M doesn't like Smith because he is kind of hipsterish.
Not true.
Okay, maybe that has something to do with it, but it goes deeper than that. I will say that Dogma was one of my favorite movies, probably in my top 20 of all time. I even thought Jay and Silent Bob was funny, in a Juvenile stoner way. Beyond that, the guy has gotten rich by putting out tripe like Clerks and Jersey Girl, while giving false hope and sugar plum visions to the doofus crowd of twenty something angsty types. So in the spirit of full disclosure, I will amend my earlier statement and concede that I think he is kind of a douche bag. He also has over a million morons following his every fart and tweet, confined to however many characters a twit is comprised of. Which is too many by half. At least.


I should chime in on the fat people invading their seat mates air space, since that's what ticked off Smith in the first place. I have never personally flown next to a fat person. I have however been shackled and belly chained in the back of a plain unmarked prison transport van, next to a fat guy. While I admit to not being to thrilled about it, there are worse fates. Like being shackled and belly chained next to a guy who hadn't seen toothbrush nor soap in many, many, moons. I'll take a fat guy over a skinny one who smells like ass and spoiled buttermilk, any day of the week. That said, being fat, marginally famous, and comfortably wealthy doesn't mean you should be free to spill over into the next persons seat . If middle class fat folks have to abide by a particular set of rules, then Kevin Smith shouldn't expect to be treated any different.


Now back to twitter, which is really the bone I am chewing on in this post. Since when did the excruciating minutia of peoples lives become worthy of reading? And before you start citing isolated shit like the recent tweets coming out of Iran and Haiti, the same thing could have been accomplished with phone calls and text messages. Revolutions and Natural disasters aside, do we really need up to the second reports on every trivial minute of someones day? Apparently we do.
Maybe it's just me. I'll admit to being a little slow to catch on to the latest craze. I was still using pay phones when people were running around with those cell phones in shoulder bags. I was still jamming matchbooks under that REO 8 track when my buddies were all cutting edge with cassettes listening to emotive angsty shit like REM. Of course now I realize how shitty REO sounds on 8 tracks or 16 tracks, and REM is considered classic rock, or something . So maybe in a few years when everyone has moved on to the next mode of communication, sending brainwaves via chips implanted in their ear drums, maybe I'll get a twitter page. But for now, I'll do shit the old fashioned way. A self serving blog. With too many words and too few one liners.

***Be sure and check out Meesha's post on Kevin Smith, it has visual aids. Besides he rarely blogs anymore, probably too busy tweeting.****

Fate always trumps stupid.............

I was watching a show on melting icebergs last night, and no this isn't a post on global warming. I'll leave that to the big thinkers on both sides of the debate. Visually it was pretty fascinating, these guys were walking around on these big ice shelves which had giant holes. The holes were hundreds of feet deep. Most of the time the main ice guy is tethered to a line, but at one point he walks up to the edge of this huge hole. He gets down on his belly and hangs his head over the edge, no lifeline, no safety net. He tells the person behind the camera how dangerous this is, that he shouldn't be doing it, how the shelf could collapse and he would be gone for ever. Hey, it was making me nervous just watching him. Then there was that other voice, the one that said "Hey dumb ass, if you fall in that hole, it serves you right". Of course I'm not hoping the dude takes a tumble, but if he does, it's on him. When you tempt fate, push the envelop, try your luck, give it a name, you take the chance of having some dire consequences jump up and bite you on the ass.


Which brings me to the climber who got swallowed up by the Volcano Gods at Mt. St. Helens. Joseph Bohlig, 52, who was posing for a picture on the rim of the dormant crater when a snow overhang gave way beneath him. Let me repeat that. He was posing for a picture, standing on a snowy ledge, near the edge of a fuckin volcano. Bohlig had climbed Mt. St. Helens 50 or 60 times over the years. He knew he wasn't supposed to be near the edge. He tempted fate, and it bit him squarely in his ass. He also risked the lives of the rescuers who tried, but failed to save him. While I don't wish death on anyone who makes bad decisions, tempts fate, I'm not real broke up over it either.

I smoke, and I do it knowing that the shit can kill you. Should I die, or get sick because I made a stupid decision, it won't be any ones fault but my own. Should I find myself sitting in a doctors office one day, god forbid, while he tells me I've got the big Casino, and just months to live, I promise not to run out and sue Phillip Morris. Here's the rub, and the thing that exemplifies how retarded we all are. Knowing all I know about the risks of smoking, if I get sick from it, it will shock the shit right out of me. Despite my super human brain, I'm human, barely, and as such, I am retarded. Despite all of the risks, the warnings all over the pack, I don't believe it will happen, not, To, Me. It's that thing we all carry to some degree in our DNA. I like to call it, The Retarded Gene. We all have it, even though we pretend we don't.

The Retarded Gene. It is responsible for Russian Roulette.


It's the reason drunken Chinese keep getting bitten by Gu Gu the Giant Panda. Gu Gu has sunk teeth in to 3, count em, 3, morons who tempted fate and climbed over the barrier to the fluffy Pandas enclosure. Here are the money lines from Gu Gu's latest meal on heels.

"The panda is a national treasure, and I love and respect [him], so I didn't fight back," Zhang said. "The panda didn't let go until it chewed up my leg and its mouth was dripping with my blood."

Zookeepers needed to use tools to pry open Gu Gu's jaws.

Zhang said he never imagined a panda could be so vicious.

"I always thought they were cute and just ate bamboo," Zhang said.

Clearly the guy knew that pandas aren't giant Teddy bears. Gu Gu had already sunk his panda teeth into 2 previous tools. The first guy was drunk, and he bit the Panda back. So the Panda probably had it in for tourists anyway. The retarded gene can be found in the woman who tried to get up close with a polar bear at a zoo in Berlin. and hey, who doesn't want to swim with Polar Bears? They didn't kill her, but they sure as hell made her rethink the wisdom of her actions. A tad too late, I might add.

Bernie Madoff tempted fate. It eventually bit him squarely in his greedy ass.

Marie Antoinette. Note to self, never tell starving people to eat cake.

I'm tempting fate in this post by using the word retard. Even though everyone agrees it's a bad word by virtue of what it implies. Which seems, well, a little retarded, since it's my intention to describe stupid people in a totally derogatory manner. Seems like a derogatory word would be a good choice. Still, I know it will offend someone. The point is, I'm tempting fate.


It seems to me there is no escaping the retarded gene. So run out and stare into a 1200 foot hole, or get your family xmas picture taken at the mouth of Krakatoa. But when you hug that bear, or fall off that icy ledge, don't expect me to call it a terrible accident. You tempted fate, and fate bites like a bear. Or a Panda. Or a Volcano.

Fast Eddie Friday.....The way we were

Mmm. Mmm.
Memories, light the corners of my mind
Misty watercolor memories of the way we were........

The words above are the opening lines to the Babs Streisand tune, The way we were. If you are thinking, " Damn M M listens to that shit", you are wrong. Although I will admit that I like watching her sing because she has that one crazy cock eye thing going. While I find Babs singing to be an aberration, I can't look away when she sings. Chalk it up to the train wreck hypothesis , or whatever. Actually the reason I robbed those opening lines from the Marvin Hamlisch tune was to highlight this installment of Fast Eddie Friday, it's a trip down memory lane. I'm going to take you rubes and hoopleheads back, way back. I've been writing some somber shit this week, and frankly it's time to lighten things up a little. The last thing I want is to throw all of you in to some kind of depressed funk. So let's lighten up, take a walk down my memory lane. Just watch where you step, you don't want to get any of that on your shoes......................

If you are a long time reader, or if you had the good judgement to search through my vast archives, you may recall a guy who went by Bird Dog, or Bird for short. He garnered some mention in chapter one of my non award winning series Ruthless, Worthless, and Clueless. Bird was as crazy as the proverbial Arizona Road Lizard. He was also kind of dangerous, but crazy is funny, and funny trumps dangerous any day of the week. Bird owned a salvage yard which is just criminal code meaning he fenced stolen cars. Bird was a big guy, 6' 5" or so, probably tipped the scales around three fiddy . He had one of those white boy fro's that were popular back in the late 70's. The 3 biggest mistakes of the 70's were, the Vietnam war, Watergate, and the White Guy Afro. Birds fro was about the circumference of a small umbrella, or a large pizza. So now you've got a mental image of this walking train wreck, let's move on.

Bird was legend for the crazy shit he had done. He lived in Waldo, for all I know he still may. Waldo being a fairly quiet neighborhood back then, people didn't really take kindly to the late night shenanigans of the Bird. All night parties, working on cars and motorcycles all hours of the night, and an overall lack of consideration for folks within earshot, meant that the cops were called on Bird Dog on a fairly regular basis. Criminals, especially criminals who are bullies with a mean streak, do not take kindly to having the police called on them. So one night in a drunken stupor, Bird staggered up and down his block firing a pistol in the air, and probably yelling some generic threats. The cops were called. A police Sargent in the Waldo area at the time whose last name was Schultz, and a major prick in his own right, showed up to the scene. The official report stated they told Bird to put down his weapon, Bird later claimed they just started shooting. Whatever the case, Bird ended up with a couple of new holes and one less lung in his body.


A few years later Bird managed to get shot in waldo once again. The same guy getting shot in Waldo twice has got to be some kind of record. Being shot one time in the Waldo Neighborhood is as rare as a black guy at a hockey game, getting shot twice in Waldo is unheard of. I covered this story in the earlier mentioned post, but I'll give you a brief rundown. Bird was shooting craps after hours at a bar called Ronnies Rabbit Hutch on prospect. Also in that game was a guy we will call Joe. Joe killed people for a living, collected debts for other nefarious characters, and was a card carrying member of the "Not to be fucked with" club. In other words, you didn't want to piss him off. Bird had been on a hot roll, and at some point Joe called him out as a cheater. Bird beat the cowboy shit out of Joe. A few weeks later Joe came calling. This is where the story gets a little strange, and downright hard to believe, but it's true, at least most of it is verifiable, and some of the finer details, I just had to take as true from word of mouth.


Bird was banging the married lady who lived next door to him. Said lady was confined to a wheel chair. Fact. Her husband worked nights. Every now and then Bird would wheel her over to his place, do whatever unthinkable shit they did together, then wheel her back home. He called her Wheels, it was a pet lovers type name, like snookums, or hunny bunny. According to Bird they were in the throes of sexual nirvana in his bedroom, when he hears a click. The click was Joe's pistol either misfiring or hitting on an empty cylinder. Whatever the case, Bird says he grabbed the woman mid coitus, and started to roll. He claims he was trying to protect her, but knowing Bird, I'd say she was a human shield. Long story short, bird picked up three new lead body ornaments, miraculously the crippled woman escaped being shot.


Bird Dog recovered from the shooting, but he was never right in the head, not that he was really right in the head to begin with. Case in point, the night Bird dog pissed in Crazy George's ear.
There were about a dozen of us standing out front of a now defunct Wornall road strip joint called A B's. A B's was famous for exceptionally ugly peelers. Seriously, the women in this joint would make a freight train take a dirt road, we're talkin mud fence ugly. There was one exception, and as with all exceptions, there was a rub. The rub in this case? The girl, while hotter than donut grease, was stone deaf. True story. She looked like Selma Hayek, and talked like Patty Duke in the old Helen Keller flick from the 60's. Oh, and because I know you are curious, she danced like an epileptic on crack. But that's a politically incorrect train wreck for another time, I just want to give you a feel for the place. So, we are all standing around outside when Crazy George pulls up. George was sort of , kind of a friend of mine, despite his name he was mostly harmless because he was mostly too drunk to ever be dangerous. He drove drunk, but he only drove about 20 miles an hour, so the occasional slow pedestrian or dog aside, George didn't pose much threat to anyone.


A couple of us are talking to George through his car window when Bird Dog staggers up. He doesn't say a word. He unzips, whips it out, and pees through the open window of Georges car. He peed first into Georges ear, George in shock turns to look at the source of urine, mouth agape, and I'll leave you to your imagination as to how things went from there. George was crazy, but he wasn't stupid. When he gathered his wits, he put his car in reverse and got the hell out of there. When I asked Bird why he pissed in Georges ear, he looked at me like I had three heads. Then he said, "who is George?" Long story short, Bird was so drunk he thought George was Joe, the guy who had shot him while banging the cripple lady. Never mind George drove a 55 chevy, and had long hair, while Joe was bald, 20 years older, and drove a caddy.


Last I heard the Bird Dog was still alive, not sure if he is still in the salvage business, or if he still lives in Waldo. After I get this overly long sentimental stroll down memory lane posted, I'm going to take a drive through the old hood. Every now and again I like to just drive through the old spots even though most everything has changed. A B's is long gone, the building now houses a sign business or something like that. Most of the guy's I ran with are dead and buried, in prison, or playing in their pudding at some nursing home. Time marches on. In retrospect it's a wonder I'm not as fucked up as a soup sandwich myself.

So there it is kids. A light hearted romp through what once passed for my life. If that don't cheer you up, make you feel good about your own past, I don't know what will.
Have a safe weekend. See ya Monday.

The Reel.........

People can really surprise you. Acts of courage or compassion, selfless acts that make your throat get a little tight with pride, because we are, after all, in this thing together. Right? Maybe most of us won't ever be faced with a life or death decision, run into that burning building, or give a kidney to a complete stranger. Still, we can take a little pride in knowing we aren't much different than the people we read about. If faced with the same situation, we would respond with that same selfless bravery. Right?

In those hours before dawn, when sleep won't come, or it only comes in brief spurts, laying in bed , staring at the ceiling, wondering what it all means, news reels playing in our brains, one tragedy after another. Thinking about the hard truths of our own lives, or those close to us, we all have our moments of doubt. Don't we?
What's it all mean?
Why am I here?
Is this all there is?
Why are people so fucked up?
Those are questions that could drive a person insane, or at the very least, send them plummeting into a deep dark abyss of depression. Especially at 3 in the morning. So we reach inside ourselves for some consolation, something to substitute our mothers soothing hand and calming voice that gave us comfort when we had bad dreams as children. Something to make the doubt and fear diminish. Some find that comfort in their God. Some find it in their memory of family members or friends, either still among us or long departed. If we are lucky we roll over and curl up against the warm body in our bed, the familiar rhythm of breath somehow connecting us to earth. When all else fails, I think about some story I read, or some bit on the nightly news. One of those feel good stories, one of those stranger donates a kidney, or dog saves family from house fire stories. If I replay that reel in my head a few times, things don't seem so bad. All of those late night fears about my own mortality or our capacity for doing horrible shit to one another, fade away into the dark. And even though things may not be ALL right with the world, at least they don't seem all bad. With a little luck, sleep comes, if not there's always coffee and a keyboard. Shit evens out. There is still some sense of hope and purpose.


I had one of those nights last night. The local news had been covering the death of a one year old girl. Any time a baby dies it's a tough thing to get your mind around. When the child dies a violent death, it becomes impossible to really grasp it. When that child dies at the hand of a parent, it becomes unfathomable. I'll never be mistaken for a Mother Theresa, and don't get me wrong, I don't lay awake nights due to the worlds suffering. But when I can't sleep, it always seems like I'll get around to considering one bit of bad news or another. This case just happened to the one.

From the Star:

A Lee’s Summit man has been charged with assaulting his 1-year-old daughter, who died this morning at Children’s Mercy Hospital. Mark A. Guenther, 22, was charged Tuesday with three counts of first-degree assault for allegedly hitting the girl in the head with his hands, hitting her head against the floor and choking her.

As bad as that is, the act alone doesn't shock the senses like it should. Parents killing their children is pretty common these days. The devil is in the details, and the details played on the reel last night.

After initially telling police that she had fallen while standing up in the bathtub, striking her chin and neck before landing on the floor, Guenther allegedly told police he had punched the girl twice in the back of the head while she was in her high chair.

Twice, because once just wasn't enough?

She continued to cry, so he took her out of the chair and struck her head on the carpeted living room floor three or four times.

He told police that the bruising around the neck was caused when he held her down with his hands on her neck as she struggled during a breathing treatment for asthma.

The devil is in the details, and the details will keep you awake.

As the days and details unfold there will be the typical interviews and comments from people who knew Guenther, and like reading from a generic script, the commenter will say they never saw it coming, or, they will claim he doted on the child, was a loving father.

But there were signs, there are always signs.

A few years back he was convicted of Domestic Battery. Maybe he smacked around the mother, or a different woman. Whoever it was, whatever the details, it's a sign that he had it in him.

There's always signs.

So the reel plays in the dark, as a wild haired lady televangelist paces across the stage on the television, giving the room a somewhat comforting glow. The reel finally stops, until there is just the glow from the Television, the drone of the woman's voice coming from the speaker. Maybe there will be a kidney donated to a stranger story in the morning.

Shocked yet? part 2

Almost everyone in Kansas City is familiar with the Curtis Mertensmeyer case. Curtis was the over privileged young cake and steak eater from Mission Hills Kansas. But just in case you forgot, I'll refresh your memory. Mertensmeyer admitted to being drunk, speeding on Ward Parkway, when he hit and killed a pedestrian, Daniel Reimann, 25. Mertensmeyer's mother is a lawyer, according to court documents, it was Mertensmeyer's mother, Attorney Jane Stafford's idea to evade arrest. The judge, John Torrence, said it would be unfair to punish Mertensmeyer for the acts of his mother. And as if blaming a 20 year old mans mother for his decision to leave his murder victim laying in the street wasn't enough, Torrence had more to say.
The judge also stated this unbelievable pile of horse shit, "Daniel Reimann’s blood alcohol level was three times the legal limit as he walked in the street, an extreme intoxication". The judge said this hindered his ability to avoid Curtis Mertensmeyer's speeding car. That's right, it was the victims fault. So the judge in his infinite wisdom sentenced young Mertensmeyer to 5 years, then he gave him 120 days shock time. Curtis Mertensmeyer is a free douche bag, drinking soy lattes and dining on hummingbird wings and gold infused vichy sous, or whatever the little prick eats, meanwhile Daniel Reimann is as dead as he can be. One life=120 days, seems a little out of whack doesn't it?

Curtis Mertensmeyer probably won't re-offend, unless they take the interlock off of his BMW, then he might tie one on and see if he can bag another pedestrian. That possibility isn't too far fetched, felony DUI offenders aren't always one and done. What is certain, 120 days locked up in a diagnostic center won't have a lasting effect. Being killed by Mertensmeyer on the other hand, is about as lasting an effect as there is.

Edward Tseona is currently under consideration for 120 day shock time, by,....wait.....here it comes....., Judge John Torrence. Tseona, who was 18 at the time of the offense, killed one of the founders of the Arabia Steamboat Museum, Greg Hawley, while Tseona was racing his car along 291 highway. Tseona already had racked up a string of speeding tickets prior to killing Hawley. Torrence gave Tseona only 3 years, and has left the door open for 120 day shock time. Even if he doesn't get called back by Torrence, as a first offender Tseona will be out in about 9 months. Hawley on the other hand received the death penalty for driving along minding his own business.

Lionel R Henderson violated his probation for the 4th time in July of 2009, he was reinstated on July 30th. He violated again in December. Before he could be picked up and most likely have his felony probation reinstated for a 5th time, a warrant was issued charging him with the murder of Ashley Thomas as she sat in her car on Armour road in front of her apartment. Ms. Thomas was 9 months pregnant at the time of her death. While Henderson is innocent until proven guilty, it's worth noting that had he been serving his sentence at the time of Ashley's death, she might be alive today, teaching her child to take it's first steps. Henderson has a lengthy rap sheet out of St. Louis. He violated the probation on his most recent case 3 times in 2009 alone.

The list goes on endlessly. Shock time, probation, violation, reinstatement.

120 day shock sentences, and felony probation have their place in the legal system. The kid that gets busted for some low level felony, might be able to turn things around. Sometimes you can scare someone straight. Roughly a little less than half of incarcerated felons re-offend in 5 years. Those same numbers also can be applied to 120 shock recipients. The probation numbers are a little better, but not by much. I don't have the time or resources to dig deeper, but it's a safe assumption that a large percentage of violent offenders are either currently on probation, or have been in the years leading up to their most recent offense. I'm not saying we should just lock everyone up and do away with probation, and 120 shock time. But is probation a good alternative for someone like Steven Wayne Burgess? The former Jackson County deputy who was sentenced to 14 years for Statutory Sodomy, child molestation and several other sex related crimes involving a 15 year old girl, then given probation. What kind of message does it send to the families who lost their loved ones to the hands of Mertensmeyer or Edward Tseona, when they are given light sentences, and even those sentences aren't carried out.


I ended a criminal career that spanned over 25 years. It wasn't because I had a spiritual awakening, there was no defining moment. The system wore me down, period, end of story. I watched guys who I grew up admiring, as they turned old and gray in prison. I was as wrong headed as a person could be. In the end, I knew that if I didn't hang it up, the system was going to break me off a slice of time that I couldn't possibly serve. So I walked away from the life. Once I'd removed myself from it all, I slowly came to grips with a life wasted and misspent. I turned it around slowly, and the end result was the opinionated, sanctimonious prick you waste your time reading today. Somewhere along the line I changed. So what was it that changed me? It's simple, nothing complex. Five years and several months behind walls and razor wire, and the knowledge that the system wasn't going to fuck around with me. They were serious, they weren't hardly bullshittin. While that may seem like a no brainer to most of you readers, when you are caught up in a particular life, it more often than not takes some drastic measures to give a guy a wake up. It takes years, not 120 days, or a revolving cycle of probation violations and reinstatement's.

A Shocking Expose.....or....Call me in 120 days.

This is part one of a two part post. I'm going to school you rubes on what constitutes a deterrent to crime. Consider it corrections 101, you'll thank me later. Part two, and the actual reason behind this world shaking , ground breaking, piece of gonzo journalism, is about what doesn't work. In the not too distant past, over the last year or so, there have been a number of criminal cases where lives were taken, or irrevocably shattered, and the courts have handed out swift justice. If by swift justice you think I mean lengthy prison terms, you would be wrong. If you think swift justice means 4 months and a wake up, then back on the bricks, you would be right. In part two I'll tell you about some guys who killed people, some of them committed unthinkable acts, short of murder. The thing they had in common, they all got shock time.


Part One

Prison. Everyone in the square world has an opinion about it, what works , what doesn't. It's a country club, it's a warehouse. Depending on who you ask, they will either tell you prison is a house of horrors, or a grad school for budding criminals. I suppose there is a little truth to all of those opinions, and like most uninformed opinions, there is an equal amount of misinformation. That's why you have guys like me to set you straight. So let's get to debunking a few myths for starters.

Prisons are too soft. Those fuckers are living the high life with cable and room service. It's a goddamn country club.
If I had a dollar for every time some uniformed chuckle head made that statement, I wouldn't exactly be rich, but I'd definitely have enough money to make it rain at the local strip joint. Rest assured , even the softest prison in America is a long way from the Indian Hills Country Club. Trust me, the people who claim American prisons are too soft, would immediately change that opinion if they ever ended up in one. They would do an about face if one of their kids screwed the pooch and ended up behind bars. Anytime you cram 2500 people into a space designed for 1500, the conditions will be far from desirable. Prison sucks, and don't get me twisted, it should suck.

Prison is a breeding ground and finishing school for criminals.
No shit Sherlock. Here's another newsflash for you, so was the lifestyle the newly incarcerated felon led prior to getting locked up. You don't end up in the joint because you failed to turn in your choir robe when you left that Mormon Tabernacle gig . The occasional wrongly convicted innocent man aside, people end up in the can because they spent a lot of time and effort getting there. You could track the criminal history of most guys in the joint, and for the most part you would find a long string of offenses, brushes with the law, probation, etc. By the time most people fuck up enough to get sent to the slammer, they are already well versed in being a criminal. Going to the joint isn't going to be the thing that turns them from forger to serial killer.

120 day Shock Time really works. Four short months will reverse a lifetime of irresponsible, anti social behavior.
Anyone want to buy some beach front property in Death Valley?
The truth is, recidivism rates for people who get shock time is about the same as the rates for people who actually serve their sentence. Here is a link to the study from the Missouri Sentencing Advisory Committee where I got my numbers, just so you don't think I'm pulling them from my ass or thin air. Page 46 has those numbers. I didn't need to read the study to know that shock time doesn't work any better than prison time. I've seen the proof time and again in prison. I've seen countless guys get out on shock time, and make it back on a violation or new case in a matter of months. Here is what that study doesn't tell you. More than a few of those cases where the guy re offends after doing shock time, might have been prevented if they would have made him do his original sentence. More important, there would be a few less murder victims today if some of these shit heels had been forced to serve their sentence rather than set free in 120 days. More on that later.

There are more than a few theories about what works in prison, what will turn the offender around. Most of those theories are bullshit, they are designed to promote a particular approach that will keep the coffers full of one organization or another. Don't get me wrong, there are some good approaches. Education, job training, drug treatment, all of these things can help a guy stay out of the joint, but they aren't the end all, be all. It's really simple, no big surprise when you think about it. The thing that will keep a guy from coming back to prison is the same thing that keeps people from sticking their hand to a hot iron the second time. Experience. Sending someone to prison for 120 days isn't going to make a lasting impression. You have to experience a total loss of freedom. Sometimes it takes more than one trip, sometimes it never sinks in. The thing that will keep you from returning to prison is valuing your freedom. We criminals need to reach a point where the potential loss of freedom outweighs the desire to commit a crime that could cost us our freedom. 120 days just doesn't give you a good taste of losing that freedom.

Tomorrow, I'll introduce you to some guys who got 120 day shock time. Some of them killed people and received shock time for that crime. Worse yet, some of them killed people after they got out.

Fast Eddie Friday.....Brother can you spare a cow?

The local media in Kansas City has gotten a bad rap over the years. I'll be the first to admit that I'm as guilty as anyone, even more so than most, when it comes to poking sticks through the bars of the monkey cage that is KC media. They aren't all bad, James Hart of the KC Star blog, Crime Scene Kansas City, is always a good read. He is even handed, has a sense of humor, and as far as mainstream media goes, he gives more support and links to gonzo wanna be journalists than anyone in the local media, myself included. Fox 4 has a pretty good morning news program, Mark Alford, is probably the funniest news anchor to ever come down the pike. So things aren't a total bust where the media is concerned. And shit is looking up. Two recent examples of award winning journalism and responsible reporting have given me hope that KC is rising above the "Country as a chicken coop"
stigma.

Case in point. Ink KC, which is actually the Kansas City Star, with skinny jeans, shallow writers, and hair that looks like it was combed with a pork chop. Think The Pitch, except without any actual talent or worthwhile content. It's the star's attempt to reach the young and tragically hip 20-30 somethings. In the latest edition of Ink KC there is an interview of a local blog and one woman show entitled The Man Fast. Here is a money quote from that in depth hard hitting bit O journalism:
"I don’t want to say it’s ruined relationships, but I think what happens is we go from friending to fucking in two seconds."

That's right boys and girls, Kansas City's paper of record ran the word "Fucking" on their website. Now don't get me twisted, I say and write the word Fuck , often and in all of it's various forms. Then again, I'm just an innerweb hack, and not a serious source of news. The Pitch also uses the word fuck, but they are an alt paper, and gratuitous cuss words are a given in the alt rag business. The other huge difference between the Pitch and Ink KC, one of them actually runs some meaningful stuff, while the other waxes philosophic about dating dilemmas and uses made up words like Frink. So the Star in it's attempt to reach the young hip doofus crowd has decided it's okay to say a word that would profoundly offend most of it's paying customers, the folks who still actually pay for a subscription.

The second gem comes by way of KSHB 41. It's the heart wrenching and just in time for Valentines Day story of a Sundanese immigrant, Adier Deng and the woman he wants to marry.
Problem is he has to come up with the money for 60 cows, or some other guy might marry her if he gets his cash together first. He needs to raise 15 grand. Enter local white folks, of the New Life Ministry, who are helping to raise the cash. According to the website, Deng has a Masters degree, working on a Phd to boot. KSHB 41 has gotten on board and they are directing folks to his donation page. Now, the skeptical sour prick in me has to ask why a local News Station would help advertise what is tantamount to slavery. Last I checked, buying and trading humans, much like they are cattle, is illegal in this country. While that shit may be perfectly acceptable in a third world country, here in This Country, the buying and selling of women is a federal offense. But it is Valentines day, so go ahead, buy a cow for a guy who has a better education than most of us can afford, so he can buy himself a wife. Since I've yet to find any statements from the woman saying she wants to be sold to Deng, we'll just have to take his word for it. It warms the heart whenever I see local folks reach out to help a people whose culture they don't understand, and whose morals run contrary to their own beliefs.

Speaking of culture shock. Note to self; Do not try to kidnap Haitian kids by the busload. As more news comes out about the group of people under arrest for trying to illegally take kids out of Haiti, you have to wonder what's really going on. The leader of the group, Laura Silsby, 40, is the subject of several lawsuits accusing her and her Boise-based company, Personal Shopper.com, of failing to pay her employees. She also has a history of failing to pay debts, and the $358,000 house at which she founded her nonprofit religious group, New Life Children's Refuge, was foreclosed upon in December, according to a report in her hometown newspaper, the Idaho Statesman. The Boise newspaper said Silsby has been named in at least eight civil lawsuits and 14 unpaid wage claims.

It is starting to look like the woman leading the group might be up to some shady shit, at least in my eyes. I wonder what the going rate is for Haitian orphans, who aren't really orphans. Seems most of these kids were turned over to the group by their parents, under the assumption they were just going across the border temporarily, for food and shelter. I've got a feeling once they got those kids over the border and in to the Dominican Republic, they would have been moved to the U S, and adopted out. Look, I know people are claiming these people are just good Samaritans, and maybe most of them are. That said, the woman leading the group is up to her ears in legal woes, definitely having money trouble, and she lied to Haitian authorities, which is what landed them all in the pokey. It's one thing to help needy kids, taking them out of their country under a shroud of lies and deception is another thing entirely. something doesn't smell right. On the bright side, they can always move their act to Sudan, where you can pick up a kid for a couple of goats and a machete.

And last but not least, I would be remiss, and a total hypocrite if I didn't mention the non stop news coverage about the Waldo Rapist. While I believe the folks in Waldo have done everything right in bringing attention to this creep, and their pro active efforts should be applauded, there comes a point when media coverage becomes media hype. That point has been reached. The folks in Waldo aren't to blame, it's the media who is playing on the fears of people. Rape is a horrible crime, and there are few things that strike fear in the hearts of women like the possibility of being raped. That said, enough already. Constantly running news bits about self defense, home security, and a police sketch that probably looks little like the actual perp, won't help catch the guy. Anyone living in this city is well aware of the Waldo rapist by now, everyone in Waldo has been given ample information on how to be defensive. The coverage at this point is nothing more than fear mongering and hype. Give it a rest.

That's it for this week. Be safe, have a good weekend, and if you happen to have an extra Holstein or Hereford laying around, there's a guy from Sudan who could put it to good use, or you can just drop it off here and maybe I can trade it for a Haitian beh beh.

Got a light?... or ...Change is never good.

Anyone who is paying the slightest bit of attention is well aware that I'm kind of a dinosaur. I'm always waxing philosophic about how it was done back in the day. Parents whipped your ass with Hot wheels track or a belt, unless you were unfortunate enough to have Joan Crawford for a mother, then you got a coat hanger beat down. You could open the door for a strange woman without getting the fish eye, or a face full of pepper spray. Disgruntled wives and girlfriends took their anger out on you by keying your car , breaking it off in you in divorce court, or telling her friends you were hung like a field mouse. In the words of the worlds worst singer and most overrated song writer, times they are a changin. Contrary to what you might think, change is bad. One little change in the program, a seemingly isolated incident, reverberates through the years, like a snowball rolling down a really steep hill, shit builds momentum.

Huh? What are you babbling about now, MM?

Hang with me imaginary Italicised antagonist guy, I'll get there.

For starters, lets take disgruntled women. There is a new form of payback afloat, and it can all be traced back to little miss scissor hands, Lorena Bobbitt. You all remember Lorena, the sort of attractive women, with kind of an accent, who lopped her husbands meat whistle off and chunked it out a car window. Sure we all thought it was kind of funny, it was an isolated incident. Or so we thought. Next thing you know, women are not only trying to circumcise their other half's bait and tackle down to the pelvic bones, they start free styling. Dudes are waking up with their junk super glued to their belly button. Yes it sounds funny on paper, yes the guy was probably a douche bag, still, tampering with a mans kickstand is no laughing matter. Shit gets deeper. There is a new movement afloat, and I'm convinced it all started with one Lorena Bobbitt. And change is at the root of it.

I came across, heh, this article. A woman in Australia lit her mans prick like a candle wick, dude woke up, ran around screaming, like a human torch, setting the house on fire in the bargain. Oh, and he died too. He must have had some major cheddar, because the house fire damage came to almost a million in Kangaroo coins, or whatever passes for money in the land down under. Point is, she destroyed not only the guys junk, and his house, but she killed him in the bargain. Her response was pure gold.
"I'm a jealous wife, his penis should belong to me, I just wanted to burn his penis so it belongs to me and no one else ... I didn't mean this to happen."

What the fuck? What kind of logic is that? What could she possibly think was going to happen? When you douse an appendage in flammable liquid, it's not like you can blow it out like a birthday candle. Unless it's one of those trick candles, you blow and blow, and they never go out.

Now I know what you are thinking, it's an isolated incident, right? Wrong.
In August a Greek woman poured alcohol on a British man's genitals and set fire to them after he allegedly made sexual advances on her at a bar. The unidentified woman has been charged with causing bodily injury and endangering private property.

n 2007 a Montreal woman who poured fondue fuel on her sleeping boyfriend's genitals and set it on fire was sentenced to four years in prison .

Sure , sure, 3 incidents do not a pandemic make. But where there is smoke, there's fire, and it might be some unsuspecting dudes lil smokie. You never heard about this kind of shit until Lorena Bobbitt got the bright idea to snip her doofus husbands prick off with a pair of scissors. Next thing you know, women are running with the idea. It's no longer good enough to just hit the guy in the wallet, or key his sled. Ch....ch....ch... ch.....changes. And you know there was some serious thought process taking place. They reattached John Wayne Bobbitt's junk, so that's no good. To much like the traditional means of revenge. You can always make more money, you can get your car painted, surgeons can reattach your severed penis. I'll change the method of attack. So some disgruntled wife decides to up the ante, they start out super gluing, because as we all know, super glue will rip your skin down to the pink meat when you try to get your finger unglued from your eyelid. Just imagine what it will do to your meat whistle. As soon as they figured out how to separate flesh from super glue without peeling your junk like a banana, that form of revenge was deemed unworthy.


So some woman in Australia is sitting under a Thorn Tree, eating a Vegemite samwich, and she has an epiphany.......I'll set his dick on fire like a Tiki Torch. I shudder to think what they will come up with next. My point is, Change isn't good. It comes about when people take an already fucked up idea, and make it even more fucked up. Think I'm grasping at straws? Obama campaigned on change. I know what you are thinking. Ol double M has finally succumbed to the Alzheimer's curse those Hyde Park Hipsters put on him. He goes from some unintelligible rant about dick mutilation, and segues to the president.
I say it's not that big of a stretch. Heh x 2... Barrack was going to make sweeping change, change we could believe in. Nothing has really changed for the better, in many ways shit is worse than before.
Change.
Anyone remember New Coke?
Child proof medicine caps that you cant get off ?
Flame retardant cigarettes?
I could go on all day, but I won't. The point is, change never helps in the long run. Even when it might seem like a good change, people will keep changing it until it's far worse than the original idea. Doesn't matter if it's penis mutilation, or the political strategy of a one and done president.
Change is bad. And things only get worse the more they change. Now close your mouths, stop scratching your heads, and get back to work.

The more things change........The more they stay the same.

Mattie Green was probably as high as a Georgia pine when she did it. That is if you believed the rumors, and rumor was she had a habit. Mattie wouldn't be the first otherwise normal housewife who spent her days shrouded in a misty haze of opiates. A woman gets bored at home, just the kids to keep her company, unless they were in school or off playing. He was home most evenings , unless he was away on business, or seeking treatment for the illness that plagued him. When he was home he might have noticed Mattie's face looking flushed, like she was running a couple of degrees over normal. If he did notice, maybe he just assumed she had been busy in the kitchen. Maybe he happened to notice her eyes seemed a little glassy, a little off, bright and tired at the same time. But that could easily be chalked up to the demands of 3 kids and a sickly husband. Maybe he didn't notice at all. Maybe he knew about her crutch in the closet. It's hard to say, and anyone who could speak with first hand knowledge is dead and buried. What is certain, Mattie's life, just like everyone else, was far from perfect, but it wasn't too bad, at least not on the surface. It was better than most. On the surface.


On an early Wednesday morning on the 26th of August, her husband was away seeking medical treatment, with the 3 children still in their beds, she did it. The kids would have been out of school for the summer, and probably accustomed to sleeping a little later than during the school year. You have to figure Mattie took a trip to that closet beforehand, or maybe she was out, maybe that's what pushed her over the edge. Whatever the case, she walked up to each of her children as they lay in bed, and shot each of them one time in the head. On an otherwise unassuming August morning, she did the unthinkable. She killed her 3 children, then stepped into the hallway between their two bedrooms. Charles 10, lay dead in one room, while 13 year old Willie and 7 year old Mary turned their pillows red in another. While it's impossible to say what went through her mind in the silence that followed, one thing is certain, those thoughts were her last. She put the 44. caliber pistol to her own head, and nothing else ever mattered again.


When the bodies were found Mattie was in the hallway, her head near the entrance to one bedroom, her feet near the other, almost like she was pointing the way to her unfathomable crimes. On the day of the funeral the bodies were transported in 3 white hearses. I wonder if the Mother rode in one, and the children were split up between the other two, like they were in the bedrooms. Charles in one, Willie and Mary in the other. Even though Charles was younger than Willie by 3 years, his marker was the first next to the mother Mattie. You would think the oldest would have had his own room, been the first marker in the line of 3. Maybe Willie was a girl, people have strange names for kids. Three white hearses, one sad story. A million unanswered
questions.


As sad as this story is, it's nothing new. Hell, most of us got over being shocked a long time ago. Susan Smith pushed her car in a lake drowning her children. Mothers and fathers kill their children with such frequency it rarely garners more than a few days of coverage, unless Nancy Grace or some other circus ringmaster takes interest in it. Then we are inundated with every single detail.. So much information that the tragedy and finality get lost in the hype and minutia.
The Internet brings us news almost as it happens, 24 hour news, we are on an instant and constant feed. There is no buffer anymore, we don't have time to digest one tragedy before we are bombarded by a dozen more. So the story of a seemingly normal woman, with a slightly scandalous secret, who murders her children then kills herself, it's hardly news.


This story is different. It happened in Kansas City, just west of main on 34th street. Not exactly an area that is a stranger to bad things. What is different is when it all took place. August 26th, 1896. I came to find out about Mattie Green and her 3 children when I wrote a piece about the Elmwood Cemetery for KC Free Press. I mention them in the story, but only in passing, and only to say that I wondered what their story might be. I knew a tiny bit, but not enough to write more than I did. But I've been curious ever since then, I really wanted to know what secrets were buried there. I asked Leigh Ann Little, a lady who knows more of the history behind this city than the clowns who run it, and the vast majority of people who have spent their lives here, myself included. Leigh Ann pulled up the old press accounts, which are linked here. So she is really more responsible for this story than I am.


What struck me first when I read the accounts was that I am still capable of being shocked, if only a little, at the horrible things we human beings are capable of. But the second thing is what really stuck with me. I've always liked to believe that the bad shit that occurs with such regularity is relatively new. When I read that last sentence, I can't help but think how stupid that sounds, it's beyond naive. We have always done bad shit to one another, the difference now is there are just more of us, victims and perps. And the news travels at hyper speed, from every corner of the globe. The stories stay out there in hyperspace now, they aren't buried in dusty boxes, or like the story of Mattie Green, hidden away under six feet of earth and a roll of microfilm. One hundred and fourteen years after the fact, Mattie, her children, and that otherwise ordinary day have taken their place in perpetuity. If there is a lesson to be taken away from this little piece of history, it's this; We haven't really evolved much, certainly not as much as we like to think. If anything, we've just become harder to shock.


**** The News clippings can be found here. Visit Leigh Ann Little here and at The One Hundred Year Old Weblog.