Have I crossed a line here, y'think?
WARNING* :
Blatant grave-dancing and what some might see as racist references ahead. If you are thin-skinned and easily offended, please DO NOT read further.
Once upon a time, in a faraway land called Los Angeles (where there live many, many Fairies, but that’s beside the point), there was a man named Stanley Williams, whose nickname was "Tookie", and whose favorite color was blue.
He liked the color blue so very much that he made it the official color of a club he and another man started for young, disenfranchised blacks. The name of that club was the "Crips".
Now, the members of the Crips had lots of fun together; they had all sorts of cheerful, community-oriented activities to keep them busy. Let’s see…..there was burglary… robbery….murder….drug dealing….prostitution…..all sorts of nice things.
The club was so popular and got so big after a while that it was dangerous to wear blue anywhere in the whole city, or else you could be shot by their rival club, the "Bloods", or even by the Crips, for wearing their colors "unlawfully".
About 20 years ago or so, Tookie killed four people in cold blood during a robbery, and later laughed about it as he related it to others. He was arrested, and was sentenced to death for it.
Ooooooo. Imagine that….punishment for doing wrong.
Now, Tookie was a model prisoner; he had great fun joshing the guards, at one point playfully throwing chemicals on one or more of them, and even having occasional pick-up wrestling matches with a few.
Ever loyal to his club, however, he continued his Crips-related activities for years, even inside the prison walls. Tookie was true to his friends. But sadly, as he got older, he did get away from the club. He was out of the picture for so long….and they didn’t need him anymore, anyway. He had helped start a machine that couldn’t be stopped!
While he was in prison, Tookie wrote several children’s books…..perhaps you’ve read "Curious Leahroi the Crack Monkey", or maybe Keeshawn and Shaniqua jack a Caddy"? What about "Work clothes work clothes, who done got m’work clothes? (Oh, forgit it, I ain’t got no job, noway. Where’s the damn mailman with check?)"? All were instant classics in the ‘hood.
And so it went…..until December of 2005, when aaaalll of his appeals were exhausted, and he was destined soon for the Execution Chamber. As his time came near, some people spoke up for Tookie, trying to get his sentence reduced to life imprisonment. He became the "pet cause of the moment" for several bored celebrities, most of whom won’t even remember him by this time next year! Wasn’t that nice!
When their pleas went unheeded, they stood outside the prison and held a vigil, protesting to the end, as did Tookie, that he was innocent.
At 12:01 AM PST, December 13, 2005, Tookie Williams was executed by lethal injection.
But he’s not dead! No siree! Tookie lives on….he may indeed have shed his mortal coil, but since he died at this time special of the year, Stanley "Tookie" Williams was magically transformed……
He was made immortal, and will be back, returning every year at this time as "Kwanzaa Tookie"!
Perfect for Kwanzaa….that fake "African" holiday created some years ago (maybe even right about the time Stanley went to the joint!) by a violent ex-con from LA "so brothers could have another reason to party".
How fun! And so deep and meaningful!
Yes, it’s Kwanzaa Tookie, with his merry, prison-issue orange jumpsuit, his jolly blue bandana and his cheery, jingley-jangley handcuffs and shackles. Don’t forget his thickly-callused trigger finger, his spotless, almost completely unused work boots, and, most fun of all, the handmade shiv in his ‘fro, painstakingly wrought from a toothbrush thoughtfully provided by one of his supporters.
Every Kwanzaa, forever and ever, Kwanzaa Tookie will return, bringing oversize FUBU pants, ballcaps with the beaks pre-mounted on the side, thick, showy gold chains with huge medallions, gold teeth, guns and drugs to all the good ‘bangers and bitches in the ‘hood. It doesn’t matter whether you’re Crips, Bloods, MS-13, Jets, Tarantulas, T-Birds or Pink Ladies, if you’re in a club like his, Kwanzaa Tookie loves you just the same.
If you’re really, really good, and you riot over nothing, destroying your own neighborhood at least once a year, if you knock over just enough liquors stores, and sell just enough rock to 5-year-old kids, maybe you’ll be lucky enough to look out the window on Kwanzaa Eve, and see Tookie’s pimped-out ’76 Caddy drive-by. Duck!
Bye-bye Tookie….I hope God gave you more of a chance than you gave those four innocent people you killed, then laughingly bragged about.
"But I’m innocent!" you protested, right to the end. And some people actually believed you; mostly short-sighted, starry-eyed Lefties and other liberal types who think justice is only truly served when the guilty go unpunished.
Seems now your mushy-headed supporters are circulating the story that four new witnesses have come forth to support your claims of innocence. Convenient coincidence, isn’t it? And where were these four people for the last twenty years you were deservedly rotting on Death Row?
Oh, that…..well…..seems their consciences started to bother them the closer you came to your date with death.
Strange, though, that your defense attorneys never rushed them in, even in the last second, in an attempt to corroborate your tales.
Now, why didn’t they do that? Why? I’ll tell you, Tookie…..because your four witnesses don’t exist. The whole "new witnesses" story is just that, a story…..pathetically dreamed up by your liberal supporters in a futile effort to fool everyone into thinking that the justice you were met with was undue and cruel. Too little and, unfortunately for you, too late.
One more thing, Tookie…..I hope that by now you’ve been faced with the souls of all the people, guilty and otherwise, who were killed by or because of the Crips. They can be laid at your doorstep, too.
Goodbye.