#gonna be blocking so many people showing thier asses over this.

[maidservant-hecubus]

Some of you just love dead Jews and it shows.

[alexthepartyman]

Fine Line

Chapter Two: Hold it, focus.

“I was teaching an in-serivce at the Baltimore field office when this came in,” Derek tells us as we walk through the house. “Baltimore PD’s seen some pretty grisly stuff, but never anything like this. We got two bodies ID’d as William and Helen DiMarco.” I look around, the house seems very antiqued. “Retired, lived here for thirty-seven years, no kids.Neighbourhood reports a white male, twenty to forty years old, fleeing the scene, and I quote, hopped up on those damn drugs.” 

“Eyewitness accounts are notoriously unreliable.” 

“So far, it sounds like a standard double homicide. Why are we here?” Aaron asks as we walk up the stairs and into the master bedroom. I note the blood smeared on the walls. 

“Massive overkill.”

“You don’t say.” 

“Helen DiMarco was found here, tied to the chair in front of the vanity. No defensive wounds. Ligature marks around the wrists, one clean lacertation from ear to ear.” 

“She was either too weak or she knew she wouldn’t make it,” I comment. “But that is a weird amount of overkill.” 

“Looks arterial. Probably the carotid,” Elle says. “At least she went quickly.” 

“The husband, William, was found in the shower. But he wasn’t quite as lucky.” I look into the bathroom, noticing the shower floor covered in blood, dried blood splattered on the glass sides and door. Yikes, it looks like the aftermath of the shower scene from Psycho. This amount of blood outside of a human body makes me nervous. “Ligature marks on the wrists and ankles and one long laceration up the abdomen through both layers of muscle.” 

“Evisceration - that’s typical of disorganised behaviour.”

“Despite all the blood, this crime scene shows method, order, control. I’d say it’s pretty organised.”

“There was also evidence of torture with the husband. Burns, contusions, lacerations. You name it, this guy tried it.”

“If torture is the unsub’s signature, the methodology is usually unique. A person who burns someone usually doesn’t use a knife.” 

“So maybe he have more than one killer, or we have one killer with more than one personality,” Aaron says. 

“We also have three victims. Blood on the vanity, wife’s body was found there, husband was in the shower. From the looks of the level of the ring in this tub, whoever was in it lost thier entire blood volume.” 

“I’d say that about all of the victims,” I add, peering into the bathtub. 

“Approximately ten point six pints.” 

“Which means the victim was dismembered.”

“Pints?” I ask. 

“It looks like our guy took all the parts with him.” 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Okay, so I’ve got Helen DiMarco tied to the chair,” Derek says. “He probably killed her first.”

“To prove to the others that he had no mercy. Psychological torture before the physical pain.”

“Only there was no satisfaction from her death.”

“The death was too quick. Arterial, jugular, trachea, she died within seconds, especially with a cut like that.” I answer. 

“The husband...with him, he took his time. There doesn’t seem to be any wasted effort, no hesitation on the unsub’s part. I mean, Gideon, look around. What he did...it’s a lot of work. We’re either dealing with a professional or -”

“A pure psychopath.” Uncle Jason stares blankly at the bloody shower. “Nothing more we can do here until the third victim turns up. I’m guessing there’s a connection to him.” 

“He doesn’t want that victim identified.” 

“Have Garcia go through open files in Maryland, see if any of the involve this level of torture.”

“Got it.” 

“Have her check the surrounding states as well. If...the guy’s a pro, why do jobs only close to home?”

“How far back do you want her to go?”

“At least ten years. Guy’s no rookie,” Uncle Jason answers, walking out of the bathroom. 

“Where is he going?” I ask.

“I don’t know, kid, but you should stick around here.” 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Third victim was positively ID’d as a low-level mob guy,” Derek reports. “Frederick “Freddy” Condore. He was the nephew of the older couple. Body parts were found in seven different trash cans two blocks from the crime scene.”

“Were they able to completely reassemble the body?” Spencer asks. 

“Killer didn’t keep any trophies.” 

“Is there any evidence he got off?”

“No.”

“Garcia has a number of unxolved murders in DC, Virginia, and Maryland over the past fifteen years. Many of them have ties to organised crime, all different MOs.” 

“What’s the connection?” Elle asks. 

“Torture. Marks on the ones are consistent with the same cutting tool.” 

“Tortured victims, most tied to organised crime...no signs of sexal sadism.” 

“Hitman,” I answer. 

“Excuse me?”

“You’re looking for a hitman.” 

“No, a hitman doesn’t need to torture to get the job done.”

“Two things - Baltimore just forwarded a sketch of the man running from the scene, and uh, you’ve got some agents out there who think you’re poaching on their turf,” JJ cuts in, hanging Jason a sketch. 

“I’ll handle it.”

“Doesn’t federal trump over local?” I ask, looking up from my book again. 

“Come on, we’ll set you up in my office,” JJ offers, grabbing my backpack.

“Why?”

“Because you’re gettin distracted from your school work, and Aaron said you can’t be here if you can’t get your work done.” 

“JJ, I can do my work, I promise,” I tell her. Kids don’t steal my assignments and cheat off of me for nothing, you know. 

“So, we just going to drop it?” Derek asks as Jason comes back and approaches the whiteboard. I slip my bookmark in place and put my book away. 

“These guys don’t know what they’re dealing with.”

“Our unsub is male, intelligent, organised, and methodical. He has the confidence of a man who’s been killing for a long time. Only victim removed from the scene is Freddy Condore, indicating some tie to him. Elle, you and Reid stay on Condore’s background with Garcia. Dig deep, see what turns up.”

“Condore worked as a supervisor at a scrap metal yard in Baltimore. It’s owned by a guy named Michael Russo, boss of a small mob crew. I’m gonna grab Hotch and go check him out. Jamie.” I nod and throw my bag over my shoulder, jumping from my chair. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Michael Russo?” Aaron asks. “Agents Hotchner and Morgan, FBI. This is our intern, Rossi.” 

“What do you want?” Michael asks.

“Freddy Condore.”

“He didn’t show up for work today. He didn’t call, nothing.” Well...you can’t exactly make a phone call when your body is divided between seven trash cans. 

“Probably because he, his aunt, and his uncle were murdered last night,” I state. 

“Really? Too bad.”

“Yeah.”

“I can tell you’re all busted up about it.”

“Look, I don’t speak smart-ass, so you got something to say to me…”

“It was a professional hit. Either you’re in charge of your business or you’re not.” 

“What kind of business do you think I’m in, huh? Look around. I’m in scrap metal. It’s all about recycling. That’s where the money is, my friend. Saving the earth.”

“You’ve got a big problem. You know, the mob isn’t what it used to be.”

“Ain’t easy always fighting for respect, is it?” Derek steps closer to Michael. “You always gotta fight for what’s yours. One of your boys steps out of line, tsk, tsk, tsk. You hit him hard, you make it count, right? Is that what happened to Freddy?” The man chuckles.

:Look. You got a case to make, run along, get your papers, and come back with the bracelets. Otherwise, I got a business to run.” The two men walk away from us.

“They don’t dress scrap metal,” I retort.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Derek kicks the door in, and he and Aaron storm in, guns pointed. “CLEAR!” Aaron yells. 

“Copy that.” 

“It’s clear here.” 

Aaron and Derek holster their weapons. “Morgan, this is weird. There’s nothing here.” I step into the room and look around, finding a barren home. “It’s like nobody lives here...guess he wasn’t expecting company.” 

“Something’s wrong?” 

“Yeah, I know.”

“Look at this place. It’s an artifical dwelling...to match an artifical past.” We start searching through everything, and I hear Derek tapping on a wall, before a loud thud. 

“Derek, what the - what the fuck? Why did you punch that?” I ask, peering up from the other side of the oven. 

“Hotch!”

“Yeah?” 

“We got a hot weapon. Jamie, get back.” Derek gently pushes me away as Aaron approaches us. He pulls out a towel and sets it on the stove, unwrapping it to reveal a gun and a cartridge. “Oh, no.” 

“What? What is that?” I ask.

“It’s a Glock nineteen. And this round is standard law enforcement issue.”

“So you’re saying Baker’s an undercover cop.”

“I’m saying I did eighteen months deep cover, and this place has got all the makings of a crash pad.”

“That does make a lot of sense. You can tell a lot about a person by how they decorate their house and if you just have nothing...then they can’t figure you out.” 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What the hell is wrong with you people?” A guy with a yellow tie bursts in, slamming the door behind him, I can hear him over my music.

“Sorry?”

“I told you, this is my case!” 

“Alright, first of all, don’t shout at me,” Aaron says, rising to his feet behind his desk. I sneakily pause my screamington playlist so I can hear this whole thing. “And secondly, you don’t decide what cases the BAU works on.”

“You ran my agent’s gun through IBIS?” I look out of my periphreal and see Uncle Jason standing outside the office door with files in his hands. 

“Cause I wanted to know who he worked for, and now that I do, I’d like to talk to him.” 

“You don’t have him.”

“No. You don’t know where he is?”

“He’s missing,” the man says, sitting down by me and sniffling. Uncle Jason opens the door and lets himself in, closing it afterwards. 

“How long?”

“Twelve hours.” 

“Before or after the murders?” I look back to my book, scanning the words to pick up where I was.

“You think Jimmy’s a suspect?” 

“Well, there’s a sketch of someone who looks an awful lot like him leaving the scene.” 

“That’s because he was there. After. Look, he ran into a couple of Baltimore detectives, and they made him while he was with Condore. Now, Jimmy tried to play it off, but he didn’t think that Condore had bought it, so he wanted to  go back and talk to him. When he saw what was left of the DiMarcos, he called us for a pickup. We showed up. He didn’t.” 

“You think he ran?” Aaron asks.

“No. Jimmy’s too experienced to run without contact.” Contact, contact, contact, con...con...con-tact. No, that can’t be it. Con-ca...that sounds even worse. “If he’s not calling in, then someone’s keeping him from doing it.” 

“Who’s Jimmy Baker’s target?” Uncle Jason asks. 

“Michael Russo. We’ve been after the guy for three years. Jimmy’s been under for almost two.” 

“We talked to Russo yesterday. He seemed genuinely surprised by the murders.”

“And you bought that? Let me tell you a little something about Michael Russo. The guy is a liar, and a good one. If he didn’t do it, then he knows who did. Oh hell, you know what? I’m wasting my time with you. You obviously don’t get it.”

“Agent Cramer, we’re not the enemy. Please sit down,” Jason says, blocking the door. Agent Cramer sits at Aaron’s desk, and Jason joins him. “We;re dealing with a very dangerous killer here...and we need your help. You know these people better than we do.” 

“This guy - if he is what you say he is and he has Jimmy, did he kill him already?”

“We don’t know.”

“I’ll help you in any way that I can. You help me get this man back to his family.” I pull off my headphones and put my book away again, grabbing my bag to go hang out with someone else.

“If it’s any comfort, Agent...I knew he was lying. They didn’t dress scrap metal,” I say, before walking out of the office.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You’re gonna need a bigger board,” Penelope says, bringing in a cardboard box. 

“Please tell me you brought some breakfast.”

“Huh. Trust me, sugar, you’re not going to want to eat when you see what’s in here. What is Jamie still doing here, I thought he had school?” Penelope asks, turning to me.

“Two day weeks for the rest of the month. Doctor wants me to take things slowly,” I answer. 

“This place is not slow, Jamie. You should be staying home with your dad.”

“He thinks it’s good that I get out. As long as I’m with one of you guys, I’m fine.” 

“How many more are there?” Derek asks Penelope. 

“Well, I’ve gone back fifteen years, and there’s over a hundred.” 

“A hundred unsolved murders?”

“Yeah, that we know of. And then there’s more coming in.”

“I can help bring in boxes,” I offer.

“Sorry, little noodle. You have to focus on school, and you can’t do any heavy lifting.” I pout at Penelope, who ruffles my mop of hair. 

“Torture’s consistent. You know, we thought this guy might have been at it a while, but this many victims, Garcia?” Derek sighs. “John Wayne Gacy killed at least thirty people. This guy’s more than tripled that.”

“Yeah, but this guy gets paid for it. He’s a hit man.”

“No...he’s more than that. Not all these victims were mob hits. You know, my guess is that he started hunting when he was really young...perfected his craft...moved on to bigger prey. Garcia, look at this, there’s no hesitation in the wounds, one clean cut through flesh and bone.” 

“Okay, so what does that tell us?”

“Most people wouldn’t imagine doing something like this to another human being, but this guy, he doesn’t even flinch. He’s got no conscience.” 

“Is that psychopathy or sociopathy?” I ask. 

“Sociopath. We’ve got ourselves a serial killer with the perfect career. Russo has no idea what he’s dealing with. I think we can shake him. Keep looking. Jamie, stay with Penelope and do your work.” He says, ruffling my hair and walking out of the room.

“Do I really get that distracted that easily?” I ask. 

“Yeah, you do.” My phone beeps and I peer at it, finding a text from Cal. “Give the phone. Ooh! A text from a boy!” 

“Penelope!”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Is this gonna work?” Elle asks.

“The beam is reflected off the pane according to the law of optics.” 

“Yeah, the angle of instance is equal to the angle of reflection.”

“Uh-huh. Is it gonna work?”

“Hey, it’s me.”

“We’re gonna find out right now,” I comment.

“I need to see you tonight. I’ll call you from a secure line.”

“Apparently, it does.”

“Hey. Listen, you brought a lot of heat taking down Freddy like that...What - I’m dealing with the feds...Listen, meet me here at the office...they don’t know nothing...I’m dealing with them...stop being paranoid, Vinnie…”

“Bingo.”

“No. Vinnie.”

“Look for either VIncent or Vincenzo. Mob members are usually Italian, so focus on names of Italian origin...and keep it around Baltimore, look for a rap sheet indicating sociopathy to this level,” I ramble. 

“Well, he’s got eleven associates named Vincent,” Spencer says, collecting files. 

“No, make that ten. Vincent Cellito died last summer,” Elle corrects him. “You know, here’s something. What can you tell me about Vincent Sartori?” Elle then gives Penelope a look of surprise. “I was still drinking that.”

“Not only is this equipment expensive, it’s also extremely sensitive.”

“Don’t leave your coffee on the files next time,” I reprimand her. 

“Vincent Sartori.” 

“Currently doing six at Dannemora for racketeering.” 

“How about this Perotta? There’s not much on him.”

“Can you get into those records?” Elle asks Penelope. 

“Despite the fact that they were probably expunged, she can find the faintest echo of deletion and successfully re-create the file, thereby sending us all to prison for computer felony fraud counts.”

“We can make bail. Garcia?”

“Already in. Alcohol addiction at fourteen. Violent outbursts. Assaults. Once threw a molotov cocktail at someone sitting in their car.” 

“That sounds like a party,” I comment, not looking up from my book.

“Several notations for aggression. He once scheduled a visit to an infirmary to gain access to a boy who looked at him for too long?” 

“No hear, no remorse. Quick temper. And he was smart enough to stay off the radar as an adult. Paranoid personality. He could be our guy.” 

“There’s absolutely no information on him as an adult. No driver’s license, no utility bills, nothing. It’s like he became a ghost.” 

“Let’s just hope that they can catch them.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“This was all in his van?”

“Yep. The guy wasn’t exactly neat.” 

“Classic anti-social personality.” 

“What are these tapes?” I ask. 

“I don’t know. Why don’t Reid and Garcia take a look, let us know, alright?”

“Yeah. Movie night. I’ll make popcorn.” 

“I’m gonna join movie night,” I comment. “I’m not innocent, Derek, and I don’t need to tell you how.” 

“You’re twelve.”

“Fourteen. In case you haven’t forgotten, I’m not like the other kids, either.” My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out to see an image from Jasmine, a drawing of us and our friends. 

“Is that the boy?” Penelope asks.

“No,” I remark, typing back a quick ‘looks awesome!’ before tucking my phone away again.

“A boy?” 

“Derek! It’s not a boy!” 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You got that address?”

“In Glen Burnie like you thought.”

“Yes.” 

“It looks like Frank Perotta died in a suspicious hunting accident with Vincent, he was seventeen, it was like, thirty years ago.” 

“My guess is that it was no accident.”

“Well, you said he was looking for bigger prey, and it looks like he found it.” 

“Garcia...you’re my girl. Thank you. Jamie, keep it up, get ready for school. It’s Thursday morning.” Derek kisses her head and then leaves, closing the door to the cave behind him.

“I’m gonna need, like, five energy drinks to get through today,” I groan, throwing my head back and taking a light spin in the chair. 

“What are you even doing on my system?”

“Helping. I heard you say Frank Perotta and I just...did it. I’m gonna head to the bathroom, try to look like I haven’t been awake for the past three days. Gym class first thing in the morning fucking sucks ass.” I tell her, kissing her head and walking out of the cave with my bag on my shoulder. I stop at the glass doors to the bullpen, watching as officers take a man away in handcuffs, before stepping into the bullpen and heading to Derek’s desk, nicking his 3-in-1 from his go bag. 

“Why are you stealing Derek’s...soap?” Elle asks me from her desk. 

“Is he coming yet?” I ask.

“He’ll be a few minutes. What are you doing?”

“I was going to use the gym showers so I don’t go to school and people think I live in a cardboard box and then hitch a ride to school from Grant, but if you’ve got better ideas-”

“Come shower at mine and tell your dads.” 

“I only have the one dad.”

“You mean Hotch and Gideon aren’t your dads, too?” She jokes. “Just come on, I’m headed home, anyways, I’ll take you to school.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I insist. Besides, Grant and Spencer are probably going to want some time alone.” I sigh and pull out my phone as Elle grabs her things. 

“Hey, Dad, so I’ll be home tonight...I’m getting ready at Elle’s house this morning...the case just ended…”

“Make sure you eat, and tell Aaron and Jason where you’re going. How long was the case?”

“It started Monday morning, and I’m so...I’m gonna need a nap when I get home, we had to deal with the mob in Baltimore, and… I slept, I promise, I’ll make Elle get me an Egg McMuffin or something.”

“Alright, piccolo, just make sure you’re taking better care of yourself. I left yesterday to go to another signing, so go home after school and feed the dogs, and if you need a ride home, call one of yourr brothers or the BAU. And get a decent night’s sleep.” 

“I will. I love you, Dad, I’ll see you next week.” I hang up and put my phone in my pocket and climb into the passenger seat of Elle’s car. “Let’s go.”

“You don’t eat breakfast. Something’s wrong.” 

“Nothing’s wrong!”

[whimsically-ominously-auspice]

I heard about the 64% of all lives matter wanting the blue lives matter to do the bottom breath exercise

Compared to the, especially much lower 41% of black lives matter positive response out of only 1/3 of the voters saying yes they would exercise. Thier 41% was for anyone else to, not just blue matters

These numbers are broken down from bigger numbers

I really like this. This anger and revenge and hate from all lives matter people

Remember the conversation was, "please stop killing us, our black lives matter"

"Shut up nigg** we will kill you all, blue lives matter"

Then all us went all lives matter. Some in shock and so on and what have you. Some to settle, some to continue the fight.

So I'm glad to see so many continue the fight.

And that is what I am saying.

I obviously am All Lives Matter. I prove that. But I took my time and watched the conversation and listened to myself and felt the arrogance. And i took sides.

And i said Black Lives Matter. Because of what was said.

But I defend blue lives, criminal lives, illegal alien lives, all lives. Because all lives matter

I'm just black panther to the core.

And that's how they are:

a life is a life

A life paid is a life cost.

They taught me that.

My richest most developed understanding of the world was taught to me by negros

My most in depth acceptance of kindness and love and myself was taught by the Harringtons.

The world gave me the black Panthers

My mom directed me to the Harringtons.

They are what gave the black Panthers depth.

Not words. Not soldiers on the streets.

Humans.

Like I said the other day, same as for with criminals and so the Harringtons allowed me to embrace what I hated myself most for. To give others a chance. Like,Jesse James. Others.

Unfortunately they've pushed me so far I can no longer

Love like what I got from the Harringtons has been pushed so far away

By criminals like Jesse James and i will say Jesse in particular m he also for by Malcolm.

So these movements and protests they help people get together and like Seattle's Mayor says, with love.

Its not about anti-others.

Black Lives Matter or all lives matter.

It's about being around love. Acceptance. Protection. No matter who you are or where you been or where you'll go.

It's like being with the Harringtons.

It creates calmer and happier people.

Sure the white supremacy are out with a vengeance and not y'alls business, but we relabeled our SMS to help our planet with that problem

Fun oddity... I saw a video of this guy randomly picked to check the system. Bec it's fairly new and it's not SMS: brightgady but another because of the limited people and rarity of people allowed to kill with permission.

Its called The Brightside of Hell. Because that's where it sends people. LoL.

And so.

This guy all skinny and in all black in an umbrella was breaking windows and he's been driving me nuts since day one i saw that guy. I wanted to kill him,but at the same time i knew i should not.

So, today they tell me he was checking the routing system of people dressed similar and people with big afro hair was the reason for the umbrella.

And they went into a group in a building. Left their bank and credit cards. Phones. All everything traceable. Some others had the same exact umbrella. All skin tones. Big afros also. Because that was a concern for me... An afro being thought of as something else. Just because i seriously seriously love afros

Only African Americans can wear an afro. True story.

So I really treasure it.

So they all left in a mass. Like in a line and then walked around. Some traded the umbrella off and so on. Changed clothes. They did anything possible to confuse the system. Changed gender type clothing and put on wigs. And did stuff they never ever did before.

So then the guy breaking windows was actually on my own shop front.

And turns out the system is perfect. Its God driven and I hear "hey! And tree!!" From tree himself.

So we have an amazing platform. And i wanted and I would assume the world would want it tested to an Extreme.

The guy that broke the Windows is a little nerd, to himself guy and would never ever do anything like,that and he said He thought he would go home and,cry but he,said instead he felt such a rush and enjoyed it

SMS put out a serious alarm on him and when the kill team went to "interrogate" him of his crimes the actual system screamed at them all rrrrrrl rrrrrl so they knew not to harm him. It has an override to override all sounds blocks so if its turned on vibrate it will do it still.

It said "warning warning. There is something wrong! This is not a normal criminal: proceed with caution, check computer before leaving!"

Obviously he was having a mental break and the internet history would say so. What has he been reading or watching? What kind of help does he need?

And/ OR someone is threatening their life to commit such crimes and the SMS hasnt seen or been notified of anyone.

And they actually had that alert after i attacked Denise and busted her head open.

And it auto downloaded my internet history and the phone numbers contacting me frequently and people from chat apps.

So i was chatting with someone new and so it could been presumed it was due to them telling me to or their influence.

He had been annoying me all fucking day and raging me. -.-

But she tried to throw me out the car in 100° heat. She deserved that shit.

But it also showed i blow up and can't tolerate her and will lose my shit every 4 to 6 months on her.

But it was more violent than usual. But its because of my younger brother. She's all scared of him and treats him wirh respect and shit and he told me how he pulled her hair when she was driving and so that is where it came from. More so than anything. That is exactly what was in my mind. I was all he did it. So can I.

Watch me now. Bitch.

So,fucking tired of her lies!! Fucking throw me out the car. Fuck you.

You think I'm not crippled? Well I'll show you what I can do Because walking ain't one.

Had i been in a happy loving relationship or even in my own house all clean with water and electric then I probably wouldn't done that because I would just been all. Well first take me back to my house. But i would been all I'm bout to get out the car and away from her so i can just ignore her till then.

But it ain't that way, I'm unhappy and im angry and she just wanted to fucking look at me like her stupid eyes were gonna mind control me.

Yeah sure if what you want is a beating.

Tired of people trying to control me.

So movements and protests

Yall stupid white supremacy you think you know shit, all you know is you.

When the rest of us get together in life, in the world, its church. Love and peace and shit.

You stupid ass white niggers don't know love. You know fear. Fear once they finish paying their debt to be shipped that no one will work for you.

Fear of African Americans doing what they want and living their dreams

Well there ain't plantations no more.

So you fucking white supremacy have a problem. And it's me. So you better stay in your fucking houses. You get out ane mix in with any other protests and cause shit and harm ill find you

You have another big ass KKK rally ... Your hoods will be removed.

I ain't gonna say all I'd fucking do to you ignorant white ass fools in need of a REAL NIGGER because i don't want you all doing shit to my people. The ones you don't think belong here.

When Venus joined our human race, we all changed skin color. To Negro. Black. Before we were pink, green. Halo (a shade of white) and blue. Few were purple. Those were mean ones. Like the ones I'm sending out with the Brightside.

So for us all to hide the Venetians because they were as Snoop Dogg shows and as the Egyptian pyramids show, they had dog heads. So we changed to human heads and we all hid in Negro skin.

It was a trick that worked

We told space invaders that had,came to attack us before that we had came and killed everyone and we were a totally different race.

Shit worked man.

So these white supremacy. They're afraid of that black skin.

They really are. And they hate it because they want to take over.

And then compound how the entire North America was fucking empty except for some invading settlers from outer space, they really feel that the Nigger have taken over

Cause they aint been to New Mexico. Because they dumb white trash and they ain't seen how black people aren't all over and didn't take over.

But guess whose fault is that? Plantation owners with the bright idea to get people from all over the world to visit or move to the "new world" and not worry about sea fare, just work for your food and you can explore.

So definitely not the Nigger's fault.

Most African American just came to visit

And some were rich but wanted to work for food doe the week or two to see the feeling

And a lot more paid half or more to do part work and part true vacation.

They never returned

So then they got more people to come search.

And it went on.

Like I said we went to Africa to stop it. Returned Africans and so on.

Shit by the time Harriet Tubman came along there was full blown families here. Ma and pa come to vacation. Brother comes to look for them. Then son then sister then their ma and pa and ya got 5 generations.

And we taught the word Nigger in Africa to be respect.

But we warned "if you hear a white man say nigger he may have your family"

Then they ask the Negro "do you know any niggers? Where they are?"

There was HUGE legendary lessons on how to use the word.

In Africa it meant teacher that was all.

On the long ship rides to America the truth was told about how the word was used. So they used it proper.

No ome trusted outsiders. So if a black boy with a thick accent said "nigger to a black slave asking for help in,secret to find his family, then he would know the boy was a slave and would protect him and hide him for wandering the streets as he was.

We're smart. Every thing was intuition. Few code words.

We knew a Negro slave. How far and much they would protect. How they would risk their own lives.

It would get the search party on the plantation. They could search then leave in secret, have food and rest.

Then off to the next plantation.

The word nigger is sacred. To people like Snoop Dogg and others that say nigga.

They continue to keep the word in use to show love as it was initially used.

As I said before it stemmed from,the word Negro the Spanish word for black.

You need to know the whole black skin culture... They called each other blackie and so on

Like i said we all were Negro once to protect the Earth from invaders. So,we were all happy to be black.

We were invaded and we worked a system to accept other planets 32 other races.

We got lax. We thought we were safe

The walls of Jericho? That is in the Bible. It was am alien sect we were observing to see if we could accept their style and way of life. We could not. We killed them and destroyed their village.

Some like Zulululu had observed us and lied during their observation period. To be perfect like us.

They aren't

Just like people in the white supremacy movement.

Like those in the walls of Jericho they will be killed.

They don't belong under the heading of all lives matter.

They don't fit our world and they are out numbered.

So I will say nigger but as you see I block it out when it's used harmfully against others

Except when I say white bigger because there ain't anything a white supremacist hates more. And there ain't much I hate more than a white supremacist.

[vrheadsets]

VR vs. Some Very Stern Words

It’s odd what some people get bent out of shape about. Spending your career (I think I can call it that at this point) in an online role means you see plenty of it – and if you’re involved in social media you’re going to see a heck of a lot of it.  You’re also going to get a lot of it too. Over the last decade or so I sort of fell into social media as it rose to be a marketing tool and I’ve had all sorts slung at me down the years. Threats, abuse, slightly too interested in my personal life girls (and guys), people ringing up the office to ask the legal team personal questions about me. The works. So, if you’re gonna call me an idiot just know that, well, I’ve had worse. In fact, I’ve said worse about me myself, so, there you go.

Recently there was an interesting two and eight in the comments about a post where a virtual reality (VR) videogame was announced and someone was very angry it was listed on the ‘PSVR feed’ when it was not a PlayStation VR title. The reason why it was tagged as PlayStation VR was because the developers expressly said they had plans to bring the title to Sony’s headset. News about PSVR? That’ll be tagged PSVR then. Except, they insisted, that was news “not relevant” to PlayStation VR at all. Any title could come to PlayStation VR, so we shouldn’t tag that. It was an interesting argument, one I couldn’t understand for the life of me. The developers expressly mentioned Sony’s headset but it isn’t news about it? Huh?

In the end I apparently failed to explain to their satisfaction that, well, 1 = 1 and we’ll obviously tag a story with whatever it is about. Instead I was a jackass who didn’t know what they were talking about and I should take my “condescending attitude” and “shove it up your Mod ass”. Rather un-phased by the whole thing I just responded that “my ass is glorious and majestic. Thank you for noticing.”

And it is. Very.

All of this got me to thinking about another set of comments we once got on VRFocus. Which had me heading over to YouTube to ‘relive’ what is quite possibly the most epic and, frankly, unhinged rant a channel I’ve had a hand in has ever received.

Now, YouTube is as YouTube does at this point – am I right? Being a channel owner on YouTube is like spinning the wheel on Wheel of Fortune. Who knows, you may have a big hit. At the same time the way YouTube is setup and ever changing its own rules you know there’s the chance all your had work will ultimately be for naught and your channel lost to the ages. It’s felt for a while that YouTube’s ‘Wheel of Fortune’ has been adding more and more ‘bankrupt’ sections as the years roll on. It has also been on a bit of a redesign kick in recent months and a Beta of YouTube Studio is waiting in the wings to fundamentally change the back-end experience for YouTube channels. To that end I got thinking about whether or not the aforementioned rant was still there as I’d been ‘saving it’ for a special occasion.  In that way Social Media Managers always save messages that prove points or are so outrageous as to be something to discuss at later events, panels or what have you.

This rant was particularly special in that it came, of all things, at the expense of the poor Samsung Gear VR. It’s terrible crime? It launched.

Back on November 23rd 2015 we put up the Gear VR Launch trailer aka “It’s Not A Phone, It’s A Galaxy” as Samsung celebrated the launch of their smartphone-based head mounted display (HMD) and showed both it, and some of the Gear VR experiences that you could enjoy at the time, off.

One man though was very, very angry about this and his name was Chua Neng Lis. I know very little about him. He used to work in a plastics factory in or near Minnesota. He also got very upset about North Korea, America and South Korea once on a CNN video, so I imagine wherever he is now he’s been pretty miffed about the last few months. Lis was not pleased about the situation with the Gear VR at all – especially as he seemed to think he’d come up with the idea in the first place.

I should point out that I’ll be posting the message text as is without changing any punctuation, spelling or presentation.

“thats still not virtual reality. your. just. mocking. and. manipalteing. my. ideas.

and. you. think. its. so. fa faaaanny. cause. the. poor man. can. get. wealthy. off. of. the. poor. mans. idea. so. you. stoled. it. from. him. and. kept. the. poor. man. poor. so. you. can. point. fingers. and. laugh. at. the. poor. man. to. do. something. about. it.”

There is of course something to be said about corporations and capitalism and the ability of the rich and poor to earn a fair living, and on reading the first time I honestly thought up until this point that this is what Lis was trying to convey.

“when. i. take. your. brains. out. youll. understand. how. the. world. goes. round.”

Oh. Okay it wasn’t that at all.

That was just the first of nine messages left on the video by Lis which proceed to get more and more bizarre.

“HOE. WAS TELEPATHY. STEALING MY IDEAS FROM TELEPATHY AND TELEPATHY CHANNEL. OH RIGHT. I CAN DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT. BUT WAITE. TO KILL YOU AFTER IM DEAD.

AND NOW YOUR TRYING TO STOP THAT. LOL. NOW ASK YOUR GHOSTS THOUGHTS STEALING FROM. YOU. IS IT EASY OR HARD TO KILL ME AFTER IM DEAD. OR ALIVE.”

Whose ghosts? Ours? Samsung’s? I should point out that no he’s not referring to ghosts as in spooks/spies, but actual ghosts. It seems Lis has a BIG thing about ghosts. Also vampires. According to him America is full of cults and vampires. I blame Buffy. She’s slacking off.

“AND THATS STILL NOT VIRTUAL REALITY. YOUR USEING THAT DEVICE TO STEAL MORE IDEAS. FROM PEOPLES BRAINS AND HEADS. EVEN USEING AND STEALING OLD DATA AND INFORMATION. YOU ALL TOOK PART HACKED. AND STOLED. INTO YOUR OWN MINDS BRAINS AND DATA. TO ACT OUT LIKE ITS YOURS. WHEN YOU KNOW IN YOUR BRAIN AND MIND. ITS NOT YOURS. EVEN IF YOU WOULD. “LIKE”. TO THINK SO.

OH YEAH. ASK YOUR GOVERNMENT. “GHOSTS”.

THEY KNOW I CAN KILL YOU. USEING THAT DEVICE.

NOW HOW ABOUT THAT ARE YOU GOING TO STEAL. AND UPLOAD WHAT I JUST SAY AND SAID. AND MY BRAIN. UP TO THAT DEVICE ALSO TO. CONTROL AND KILL THOSE PEOPLE AND MINDS.”

He can kill ghosts with VR? Literal ghosts working for or with the Government?

“yeah i can kill you with that device of yours. AND IM NOT JOKEING.”

Well, that clears that up at least.

“MISTAKES. ARE MADE. AND PROBLEMS. HAPPEN. AND YOU DONT THINK. I DONT ENJOY OR HAVE FUN. KILLING PEOPLE ON MY OWN. LOLOLOL.

YOU SHOULD LOOK UP YOUR NEWS MEDIA FEEDS. AND HOW MANY DEATH IS OCCUREING. DEFINETLY NOT YOU HOOKING ME UP. ITS YOU HOOKING YOUR SELVES UP. TO. SOMETHING. THATS KILLING YOU. AND WAITEING. WAITEING TO JUST NAB YOU AND KILL YOU RIGHT AFTER. YOUR BRIGHT IDEAS AND SHOWS. ^_^. NOW WHOS WATCHING AND LISTENING TO ME OVER THIER. HRMMMMMMMMMM.”

Yoda’s changed a lot over the years, hasn’t he?

“HONESTLY THOSE GHOSTS GIVEING YOU IDEAS. AINT SAVEING YOU OR YOUR ASS.

YOU CANT CONTROL THEM. THIER CONTROLING YOU.

LOL. CANT HELP YOU THIER BRUHHH. YOU CANT STOP THEM. LOL.”

So if you’re keeping track on this and I can’t blame you if you’re not. Either we, Samsung or the American Government (I assume) are in league with the undead who are stealing minds potentially via VR which isn’t VR and he invented it.

“NOW. WHO CAN STOP THEM. THAT YOU HEARD. YELLING AND TALKING ON TELEPATHY CHANNEL. HRMMMMMM. 2013. was. the. DATE. LOOK IT UP YOUR SELF. I HAVE THE SECRET CODE TO KILL YOU YOUR CULTS RELIGION GOVERNMENT AND RACE OFF. AND YOU THINK. YOUR GOING TO BE RECORDEING MY THOUGHTS ON TELEPATHY.”

Well, no… I mean you’re kind of telling everyone your thoughts via a YouTube comments section. Not really the same thing as telepathy.

Incidentally though reader, those thoughts you’ve been having? Demonetised.

“NOW HRM HRM HRM. WHY WOULD YOU GO AND SAY THAT. YOU CANT EXTRACT THOUGHTS YOUR SELVES. AND WORSHIPING A GHOST TO.

HOW ARE THOSE GAY CULTS. AND GAY VAMPIRES AND VAMPIRES TREATING YOU. HUNTING THEM DOWN VERY WELL. ARENT WE.”

Ah, there are the vampires I mentioned earlier. And yes, he also has something of an issue with homosexuality too. Because clearly we needed some issues with homophobia in the rant as well.

“ALSO YOUR STEALING MY MORES CODE FROM ME. STEALING FROM. TETRIS. AND. ASIANTOWN.NET.

EVEN MY PERSONALITY MORE CODE. WHERE I CREATED MULTIPLE PERSONALITYS. HRMMMM. NOW WHERE AND HOW DID YOU GET THAT FROM. HRMMMMMMMMM. FOR SURE YOU KNOW YOU STOLED. IT. AND FOR SURE. YOUR PLAYING THE BLAME YOUR SELF TO CLAIM GAME. NOT YOURSSSSS. FOOO.”

Yeah, foo. That L block’s got it coming.

“yeah,. to. bad. you. couldnt. kill. me. and. interrupted. my. cause.

AND NOW YOU HAVE TO LIVE WITH IT. KNOWING. I WILL KILL YOU ALL OFF. FOR GOOD. AND HUMANITYS SAFETY. BECAUSE OF YOUR OWN RULES AND LAWS. YOU STATED. ON TELEPATHY CHANNEL. AND IN YOUR MOVIE SCRIPTS SCRIPTS. AND DOCUMENTS. ABOUT ME. AND MY KIND. AND PEOPLE.”

Well, er, I think killing us all off because Gear VR launched is a bit over the top. I mean, why can’t you just write a grumpy petition on Change.org?

I won’t go into the next bit too much because he just descends into ranting about whoever his targets are at this point being gay and getting their comeuppance (I guess?) by being violated by the supernatural. Needless to say, it all comes to a universe redefining climax with the inadvertently hilarious phrase-

“SPIRITS. UP THE BUTT HOLE FOR YOUU. FOO;”

And to prove I’m not making this all up…

Yes, these did get reported by the way and I’m very much hoping someone got to speak to them.

But when you get upset with me or us online just bear this in mind: I’m really not that phased, and that’s because honestly you are not in the same league as someone like this guy. Hell, you aren’t even in the same dimension, probably. And here you were thinking people getting bent out of shape over exclusivity periods was over the top.

More FOO you.

from VRFocus http://ift.tt/2EDAmxe