Rest in peace to Garry George “Jellybean” Johnson of Prince’s pioneering party posse out of Minneapolis, Minnesota. Honestly, I’m just waiting on a few more actors, artists, or anyone with an alliterative appellative to bite the dust so I can say, “I told you so.” Jim Jones (allegedly), rapping and rambling around all rough and tough and stuff is cool, but simple susceptibilities could snuff out someone strong and sturdy like a silent sniper—metaphorically speaking. Anyhoo, Jasmine Crockett (allegedly), in my opinion, you’re a primary part of the professedly permanent partisan problem in politics, ma’am. You could win all averse and aggressive arguments for the rest of your congressional career, but that wouldn’t set you apart from anyone in the history of what I’ve called the “forever fight for freedom” who has drudged with dedication and determination to futilely fight forever. Why the fuck are folks still fighting? Is it because bitching and blithering, no matter how hard and harsh it gets, isn’t effective in the end? Well, obviously! Like I said, the folks that Crockett constantly complains about made her the fresh face of the futile forever fight because she’s good at selling the show—promoting the puerility and pettiness that pressurizes people and prompts them to pick a side. Essentially, Jasmine Crockett (allegedly) is the Don King of the political ring, but the fights are forever “fixed” until folks figure out how to brawl in a bout where the rules and regulations are changed to work against them whenever they’re winning. For the record, I don’t respect anyone aligned with or acting alongside the assholes in authority, including chatty Crockett. And to said antagonistic adversaries, again, fuck y’all, kill your motherfuckin’ selves, and I hope all y’all die before you can enjoy the holidays! Get the fuck outta here! Diverging slightly, I bet that Burna Boy (allegedly) bullshit, where he condemned and cast out a casual, cranky concertgoer, was as bogus as the rest of the shammed shenanigans that the Feds are fabricating and forcing to the forefront to fuck with me. Side note, shout-out to the Bailey beauties, again. Y’all, I promise I’m not crazy. But I wonder, did they tell y’all that I’m writing because I’m bored, burned out, and bound to give up for good—like I’m liable to let go of living—if y’all don’t keep doing dumb shit to drive me crazy enough to crash out or submit my soul to Satan? Make this stupid shit make sense, please! If you’re suggesting that I’m soft for spurning star-studded stupid shit because everyone with status is subjected to sad and sadistic scolding scrutiny, to the point where the punk-ass police and people with pretended power stalk and surveil them to steal their secrets and scare them into submission, while having everyone they interact with—for years—do deeds designed to direct their decisions, in the middle of a massive mental manipulation mission—made specifically for them—that includes hidden messages in mainstream movies and music, and much more, get your stupid “I wish I was worthy of such wicked wrongdoings”-ass out of here! Also, fuck all the “now he knows how we feel” face-ass fools, too. And like I said, virtually valueless vermin vowing to live vicariously through me will be treated like the pesky pests that they are. With that, to anyone who thinks they know me, if I haven’t spoken to you in the past, let’s say, several seconds, good luck with your lives. Move on and mosey along. Once again, the goofy-ass government’s authority agencies have been stalking and surveilling me since sometime before I began blogging. I’m conserving certain confirmations for court, but I’ve known from the genesis of this goofiness what was going on, with the escalation of the endlessly evil events of the eternal enemy being bits of my best evidence. Basically, the allusive attacks and subliminal slights that countless celebrity co-conspirators have conducted and carried out under the command of the country’s most crooked cops are traditional torture tactics used to stimulate suicidal thoughts. I recently shared a spooky clip of Crockett (allegedly) reciting rehearsed rhetoric aimed at antagonizing me, and she knew exactly what she was doing. In a nutshell, when I chose the third option in the bitch-ass badge boys’ “get down or lay down” ultimatum, they tried to paint me as the perfect picture of a psychotic and perverted psychological profile placed on innocent idiosyncratic individuals, and it was all premeditated and painstakingly planned out. I was never supposed to get far without their acceptance and approval, they’ve been fucking up and failing to fix it because they’re stupid as fuck and also didn’t expect me stand strong, and soon…
Omniscience