How he abused the disabled today

   
   "How he abused the disabled today"
   
   He sat there, like Bill Cosby, always putting pills in my mother's pudding, and Bill Cosby, remember, is a wicked old man; moreover, a dirty old man.  
   Then, he gave me the middle finger, so silently, smiling.  Just smiling.  That's the type of guy he is.  
   I've endured it for years.  Does he have any scars?  I do.  A plethora.  

They plot again

   
   "They plot again"
   
   In two days, they will come for me.  I am beaten and bruised.  Face bloodied, at this moment.  Just showered my mother, changed her, anointed her with lavender, brushed her hair, her teeth, clipped her nails, and placed her, ever so gently, in bed--my dog rests next to her, not her husband, and my face bleeds today, because of his hands.
   Wasn't the notary fraud enough?  Or the caretakers bullying me and throwing my mother around, dropping her in the shower, offering my dog peach pits, with those grins?  Then, the false medical reports, and they know.  All to rid themselves of an elderly woman and her disabled son; plus, a little dog too.
   I watch as he sits and drinks his whiskey, smiling.  Plotting.  Again, I took my mother to the Church today, taking her out of the car, up to the Virgin Mary statue, asking for help.  I take her out, talk to her, and they instruct me not to talk to her.  I can't talk to my own mother?  That's what he has told me, many times.  
   So, I wait.  They'll come.  And I still love God, through it all.  I never complain about my life, nor pity my mother.  I just love God, and I love my mother.  While they have millions, and I eat out of cans, along with my mother, feeding her, making her smile, and they hate me for it.  They always did.
   It isn't enough that I'm diseased and in physical pain?  It isn't enough that I'm shy?  It's only enough to shuffle the money, shuffle the law, and make sure I don't get up this time.  And for what?  To make me feel shame once again?  To make me feel guilty at the illusion they fabricate?  What are my crimes?  I'm the one with scars, not them.  I'm the one that bleeds, not them.  How much longer will their lies persist, until . . .

Last Detail, 1973

   
   "Last Detail, 1973"
   
   Everywhere I go, I am reminded:  Everyone wants to kill me.  They want to kill you too, allegorically.  You think your friend is your friend?  The devil is living right under your own roof.
   Yeah, I see that piece of steel behind the bar.  You know who I am:  "I am--the goddamn Shore Patrol!!!"
   They say, flame on.  I say, virgin on.  It's good to be a virgin.  So much pinned up energy.  Hell, a virgin can kill a legion with a mere wink.  And we all know what King Solomon wrote concerning the wink.  
  That's all.  Nothing fancy.  Cracker Jack Uniform.  Enlisted Man.  Good for him.  Because the enlisted man takes the bullets, mostly--while you officers sit and smoke cigars, mostly.  But we love you; you only make us more like G. Gordon Liddy, and he is a good man.  Always will be.  

Detention Center Shootout - A New Hope [1080p HD]

Simon

Jango, Obi-Wan, and Jesus Christ

   
   "Jango, Obi-Wan, and Jesus Christ"
   
   Jango against Obi-Wan, with hints of God, not like the Disney bullshit.  Verily, a mere man against an angel.  Who won the fight?  Draw.  Who won the cult and cool--Jango did, in my book.  
   A laser gun can melt an angel's essence off.  Aquinas was wise.  Beyond all demons.  To start knowing wisdom; next, fear God first.  Fear your Father, a true gentleman who will not touch you incorrectly.  Don't let them smear your Father.  He is beaten, battle-scarred--you think God has it easy?  No, He has to put up with all of our shenanigans; plus, that of the somewhat fallible celestial hierarchy.  God is a mere man, so strong, without the witching way, but can crush it, with a shot to the face, technology, like stormtroopers marching through the streets, coming again, in corporeal form, to kick your ass and make us all get it in line--we all have it coming, our portion.  
   Act like a lady!  Even if you have the angelic gifts.  And the Father knows your playbook, hell-He wrote it.  I'm terrified that I pissed Him off, and you should be too.  There's always a bigger fish, and He's watching all of us.  Just a man.  Who could architect a Multiverse save a mere man?  And let the Virgin be the angel.  And Jesus Christ--half angel and half man.  The Son of God; also, the Son of Man.  He is both savage and saint.  Don't get on His wrong side.  You cannot fool him or enchant a Priest by whispering charms into their ears, nor lather them with gifts--the game of fools, for the wise man fears the Father, and only is made to love by a loyal lady.  Hell, I didn't write this, this isn't even my house, they tell me.  But I like to watch SIMON & SIMON reruns.  Too, I watched Magnum the other night.  T.C., Higgins, Rick, Zeus and Apollo; plus, hot babes and beer-drinking, resurrecting John Barleycorn every goddamn day.
   And, out of honor, I remind you, him like unto God, being a great soldier, the brother of the modern King of Israel--Yonatan, I beleive, for I am not a scholar, nor ever will be, just a mere serf.  He died, in battle, but lives, as do all of the Father's people, if they can love their way into Atomic God.  You cannot metaphorically hack into Atomic God.  And this man was a beautiful soldier.  Can soldiers be beautiful?  He was.  The Southern Baptist Church taught me a very smart thing, even though I'm Catholic, which is:  Salvation is of the Jews.  As Christ boldly declared.  And in my book, they deserve a free pass, being the first slaves and all; moreover, hated by all you schmucks, and for what?  Because they are of Him?  Good for them.  We can have it too.  If we love the Father's Hebrew Son.  

Obi-Wan vs Jango Fett - Attack of the Clones [1080p HD]