Windy City Maelstrom
When I was a just a little baby Scathing growing up in the cesspit formally known as Chicago, I would often fall asleep to the sounds of gunshots and sirens. If I were to try and sleep there today – probably next to a man-ass loving sex offender sharing my hotel room at the taxpayer’s expense – I’d probably only hear the gunshots. And the screaming, and the explosions, and some fucking terrible rap with the bass cranked way too fucking high to be enjoyable even if it were good music.
Yes, Chicago is a fucking disaster and everyone who lives and votes there is at fault for electing Lori Lightfoot in the first place. That Abe’s Odyssey lookin ass bitch.
I hate to break it to the debatably great Jesse Jackson but it’s FAR too late for BLM to not be primarily associated with the bullshit going on in your city and other cities like it. Because the past few times you deemed it necessary to “fight back against oppression” that also resulted in a great amount of damage to your supporter’s communities. It typically does. So much so that places like Baltimore and Ferguson still aren’t back in top form after all these years.
And it’s just that much more embarrassing this time around because the man you chose to rally behind died from an overdoes and his alleged killer is probably going to walk despite easily predicable consequences. Man, you’ll really be begging for claim then, Jackson.
I know you don’t want to hear this, Jesse, but the politicians that don’t live in or represent Chicago aren’t responsible for Chicago. They aren’t responsible for the Ronald McDonald House being attacked while it was full of invalid children. They aren’t responsible that impossibly inept prosecutor Kim Foxx doing everything other than prosecuting the people ripping your city several new assholes. You are.
You and Lightfoot, and Foxx, and every other piece of shit so-called leader in Chicago who thought an already shitty city needed a few less cops and a little more street justice are reaping exactly what you and your bygone movement have sowed.
Let me ask you something, Jesse. What can I do, that you legally cannot?
Sorry, it was a trick question. There isn’t anything you’re shut out from doing that I can do. Your last-century struggle ended, Jesse. But you and all the other so called warriors for social justice just love to struggle so much that you keep larping – you like to pretend you’re marching across Selma Bridge everyday. You get so distracted that that boulder you’re marching up that hill with is starting to roll back down. You wanted to see how far you could push the envelop, and now that you know you want to run back to where you started.
How does it feel, Jesse? Lightfoot? Foxx? To be failures? To be anathema to everything you claimed to be fighting for – if you ever believed in it at all. Well, welcome to the word that you created. The one that you will be remembered for, cursed for. And when someone from out of town comes to clean up your mess, you won’t be remembered at all.
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