The chronicle of a dark and dangerous journey through a world gone mad.

Saturday, July 19, 2014

"Fudamentally Transforming America"

Barrack Hussein Obama said that he was going to "fundamentally transform America." He has. It became apparent to me in the past few days.

Last night as we drove to the movies, two fundamentalist Muslim young women literally stopped traffic on 41st street between Southroads and the Promenade during rush hour. They were clothed from head to foot in full Muslim regalia. They chose to ignore the crosswalks and jaywalk. They walked slowly with an attitude. Their total indifference to the situation they had created was apparent. It was a demonstration of utter arrogance.

Later, as we were driving to Sheila's office to take care of an errand her boss had emailed to her during the movie, a young black woman in a tiny Nissan, suddenly changed lanes in front of me from the the right to the center lane of 21st street.  I narrowly missed rear ending her.  She then proceeded to make an illegal left turn from the center lane across traffic and the center turn lane put there for that very purpose.  It should be noted that the Tulsa Police Department remains under close scrutiny because statistically it has had too many encounters with people of color and not enough with Caucasians.  I guess that means this gal has become accustomed to getting a pass on dangerous and illegal maneuvers in traffic.

At lunch yesterday, Sheila and I were watching Fox News in our neighborhood Chinese place. We didn't ask for the set to be tuned to Fox.  The Chinese proprietors watch it as matter of choice.   A story about secret relocation of illegals was airing.  I said something about it to Sheila.  I didn't say it in a loud voice or with any animus.  I was just talking to my wife across the table in a restaurant in my own neighborhood.  A middle aged Mexican man was walking close to our table.  He immediately began "harrumphing" loudly, over and over.  When I looked up, he gave me a go to hell look.  I returned the look and raised my right elbow enough for my waistband to show. His throat immediately cleared and he decided to go back to his table.


Last Saturday. I decided to suspend my boycott of Cracker Barrel for a day and have lunch there. As Sheila and I were walking in, a younger teen-aged black boy was sitting in one of the rockers and working it pretty hard. As we walked up, he stared intently at us. His look was pure hatred. I know that look. If we had been walking down a lonely street or a dark alley there would have been trouble. Older white people are often seen as prey to young blacks.  As I kept my eyes on him, I was reminded that there have been several violent incidents in the parking lot of this very Cracker Barrel and armed robberies are common at Cracker Barrel locations around the nation. I had a gun in my front pocket and was carrying a cane that is guaranteed to break a knee cap or split a skull if necessary so I wasn't worried about him. I was just saddened and wondered what in the world that child had been taught that could make him hate people he had never seen before and who had taught it to him.

Well, upon reflection the answer is pretty simple.  Barrack Hussein Obama has fundamentally transformed my America.

Thursday, July 10, 2014

Methland

A while back, I read an absolutely fascinating and incredibly frightening book titled "Methland."  The book tells the story of how the illegal sale of methamphetamines literally took over a small midwestern town. The book also makes the point that this town is typical of many if not most small towns in America.  The manufacture and distribution of meth has become part of the culture.

I was reminded of this yesterday.  I was working a suspected identity theft case.  Information had come to my attention that my client's identity information had been used to attempt to purchase prescription drugs in a nearby town.  I instructed the client to go along with the pharmacy. I would then show up to pick up the drugs and demand the transaction information concerning the person who actually placed the order.

As is my habit, I made a courtesy call to the local police.  I told them that I would be in their jurisdiction shortly, where I intended to go and what I intended to do. One of the their narcotics detectives agreed to go with me when I attempted to finalize the suspected "buy."

When we walked into the pharmacy, I took a position to the left of the two cash registers where I could see what was going on behind the pharmacy counter.  The detective took a position to the right of the pharmacy window where he was partially hidden by sales displays but could still see the transaction if it took place. While the odds were extremely remote that anything bad was going to happen in this little drill, it was still comforting that the young detective had also taken a position that "covered" me nicely in case somebody did get stupid.

Of course, the pharmacy disavowed any idea of the alleged prescription and could find absolutely no information about it in their records.  They were at a loss to explain how my client's name got into their prescription system at all since he lives in another city, does not and has never used that particular pharmacy. As we were winding up our little exercise in questions and denials, a second cashier showed up and began taking customers.  What I saw next stunned me.

She was a blonde of about twenty.  She wore very brief shorts, a sleeveless top and flip flops.  She was still a beautiful girl but the marks of her future were already visible.  Her skin had the sallow pallor of a meth addict.  Her arms were tightly gripped across her chest as she tried to control her shivering on ninety degree day. Her eyes were already showing the first signs of the living dead zombie stare of a meth addict. She produced an Oklahoma state ID card that clearly indicated that it was not a driver's license.

Imagine this scene.  You walk into your small town pharmacy and two armed men are standing on each side of the counter, an aging PI in a suit and young narcotics detective in his shirtsleeves with a service weapon and cuffs showing. Our appearance screamed "cop" from a mile away.  She had to know that we could see her condition.  And still, she walked right up to the counter between us and ordered the legal maximum of generic pseudoephedrine.  While it was a perfectly legal transaction at that point, the young detective rolled his eyes in amazement as he heard it.

These folks often work in pairs.  As soon as I saw her and "made" her as an addict I looked around and, sure enough, a slightly older woman with a family resemblance, pushing a baby carriage, was about ten feet behind her.  This person was obviously in more control than the girl making the buy because she looked very worried.  But, she was also not about to have anything to do with her partner making the buy.  As we walked out the door, the young detective laughed and said something to the effect that we both knew where those allergy meds were headed.

Welcome to Methland, Oklahoma, USA.