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[Rhymes/Poetry]
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Damn Me?!

There’s this confusing aspect I’ve never quite been able to understand about christian morality. You see, I’ve sat alone for three years in the solitary superman control unit sensory deprivation dungeon. Where every emotion is sharpened a hundred fold but every avenue to share or express this feeling is cruelly taken away. Except mail. And my pen.

So it irks me to receive these fancy gilded colorful christmas cards from total strangers where they tell me they love me but damn me to the depths of hell in the same breath. Because I’m a sinner my soul is in limbo and its time for me to repent and prostrate myself to the all might glorious one, or burn!

But I love you. Brother. Take care.

Is this what a motherfucker needs? Maybe if you all got together out there and started chanting and holding hands these walls that hold amerikka’s 2.4 million political prisoners would crumble and we could join you with a psalm.

Well?

We’re waiting…

Of course, maybe because we are top notch “sinners” in your books the last thing you want is for us to be released. Does that thought frighten you! Is it a whole hell of a lot easier to pray for someone’s soul than it is to minister to their torturous mindfucked life? Because, in reality, christians and “criminals” are both mindwashed masses. I’d be surprised if one could exist without the other. The former needs the latter to lord over and condemn. And preach to from afar. (The further the better - no?) and what would a “criminal” do without the piles upon piles of guilt, shame, sense of inferiority and hurt his brother christian bestows? In shiny christmas cards.

The time has come to turn the tables.

Your religion and those U$ concentration kamps; your steeples and the judges pulpit; the church and the courthouse are one and the same. Tools of oppression. Both are filled with bigotry, racism and egotism. The priest and the judge. The gangster, the killer and the dope dealer. Who are the real sinners here? Who’s the bad guy? The true gang?

I heard once that to interact with the true insanity in a person one has to be aware of the fact that craziness likes to jump ship. Meaning a crazy person has the ability to make you feel like you’re the one that’s nuts. And I’d say the same applies to unjust systems in power. They have a way of mindwashing you into a nazi or a ‘mexican-border-fascist-crazed-minuteman.’

So father-elder-sister-brother our struggle is a fight to survive. Day to day. Minute to minute as human beings. Your creed and country are killing us as you pass around the collection plate and mail form letters to us to ease your consciences. Our struggle attempts to raise our fellow captives self-esteem and heal; not guilt-trip and destroy as your church does, the living, right here and now, interest us. Not some idealist bourgeois bullshit afterlife.

It is your imperialist system that must lay down and prostrate and ask for mercy. And not from the almighty or some winged man. But from your fellow man you’ll kneel in supplication.

And I”m going to go there. I must.

Why are we the ones hated? The prisoners. We who sit and study and starve to death. And why are they the ones supported? The soldiers. The ones who drop bombs on innocent people for a paycheck. Maybe because all we do is keep beds full and a handful of you employed we’re inferior? At least compared to those that keep your gas tanks full and new amerikkan colonies occupied we are. no?

But I digress.

Brother christian, I’ll wish you a merry christmas also. And I send my love. But please note I’m not parting with some “beefed up scare tactic ultimatum” that might leave you in tears tonight fingering your pistol. I understand that your kind, who keep medical science in a moral chokehold and evolution out of the elementary schools, are escapists and weak. I know a person who’s a citizen of earth’s most ‘murderous-racist-atomic-imperialist-hypocritical’ nation feels a need to bury the old head in the sand. I feel you. I used to hide beneath the needle myself.

I just ask you keep your demons to yourself. Please. Never once did I try to push my dope on you. So give me the same respect.

And as you stand bent over with your head in a stale hole. Know the rest of us have woken up and changed the CD. That bass beat you hear as you lose consciousness isn’t the stars and stripes.

We’re rocking the anthem of international socialism round these parts. The international!
Let no one build walls to divide us,
walls of hatred nor walls of stone.
come greet the dawn and stand beside us,
we’ll live together or we’ll die alone.
in our world poisoned by exploitation,
those who have taken, now they must give!
And end the vanity of nations…
we want no condescending saviors
to rule us from their judgment hall…

And comrade christian…comrade!
nighty night.

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[Rhymes/Poetry] [ULK Issue 17]
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Silent Accusation II

Give us rest, give us time
To sort out why our country doesn’t realize
Torture laws and racism exist
And there’s more to life than
Those Seinfield reruns you missed
As long as you have a Mazda Miata
With a full tank and a pack of smokes
You couldn’t care less about 500,000 dead Iraqi children
Less names to intrude on your child’s
Santa Claus naughty or nice list!?! folks?
A dead man hangs from an air vent
As a bunch of cowards laugh at him
But this man’s dying breath
Pleaded for me to seek justice for him
And the justice will multiply a thousand fold
Because my strength is endless
I’ve chosen to pick up a revolutionary cause
And the world’s vendettas
Against my supposed country
I’ll carry the progressive red flag
And your overweight greedy amerikkkans
Will finally understand the meaning of sad
It’s a true emotion that bubbles from within
Totally opposite than your sugar come down
And more human than your bullshit “sin”
Ring around the rosey and pop goes the weasel
Is that spittle on your lip Mr Vegetate?
Dialectics is jet fuel to your racist diesel
Give us rest, give us time
To sort out this mess we’ve made of our lives
Give us a chance to pay for our crimes
You have our bodies, some of our minds
What more do you want?
More pain and some fines!
Take his rigid body and cut it down
Call him worthless, call him clown
I called him friend, his mother’s son
Look at his face, look what you’ve done

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[International Connections] [Rhymes/Poetry] [Utah] [ULK Issue 18]
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One Love

Cats and dogs raining down my window
Dust bunnies roaming around my floor
Learned worms crawling around my stomach
Telling me I was taught to want more
These measly maggots at war with science
And what’s before us as real and true
I pump my blood until the skin stretches
Sweat drips onto the concrete like Chinese tea
Searching each repetition the puddle’s reflection
For truth
The same as I do each USW study lesson
For a MC’s guidance into deeper realms
Blood starts to puddle and pool with my sweat
I question from where but continue my pace
Letting the itch of it linger on my face
Three cold meals and denials at mail call
Four cold walls and a solitary cot
One man alone with only one thought
Your punk denials will breed lawsuits
And my stomach turns cold to hot
We, comrades, are part of something larger
More human than “Jesus” dying on a cross
Steering the people through minefields of hate
Aware it’s a privilege we even ate
A species on the sad cusp of extinction
One vanguard, one chance, one reason
As planet Earth spins out the seasons
Survival of the fittest as Amerikkka weakens
One love comrades — Our species

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[National Oppression] [ULK Issue 50]
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Black Panther or Aryan Soldier

With extreme I compose this essay in hopes to shed light on a prison-related issue of national oppression and prison organizations. The Black Panther Party (BPP), and similar organizations, are not entirely made up of Blacks. Far from it. This is because the BPP’s whole creed and politics center around non-racism and equality. Whereas you must be 100% white to become an aryan soldier (AS). And an AS’s whole creed revolves around that fact. Literally the 14/88 of the aryans stands for “we must secure the existence of our people and a future for white children.”(14 words) and the 88 precepts are set at that exact number because the eighth letter in the alphabet is “H.” and “HH” stands for Heil Hitler! And I’m sure readers are familiar with the Nazis.

Aryans believe in and support such myths as Valhalla (palace in which the souls of slain heroes feasted for eternity) and Valkyries (maidens who selected heroes destined to be slain in the battle and escorted them to Valhalla) geared from ancient Norse mythology. Whereas Panthers believe in and support science and a thing called “materialist dialectics” which basically states contradiction exists in everything [everything that’s not a fairy tale or myth] and in order to embrace reality, or change it if you wish, one must understand these contradictions inherent in things.

If we were to look at the reason why an aryan has time for nursery rhymes and fictional deities we’d see it’s because the white imperialist elite system these aryans live in already supports such idealist metaphysical ideals. And in truth, a person who doesn’t oppose a system thereby supports that system, as silence is taken as acceptance of that system.

And why not? The 14 million children who starve to death annually and the over 500,000 Iraqi children who’ve died because of U.$. sanctions aren’t white children. If one of our white baby Jessicas slips down a hole we aryan nation amerikans pull out all the stops. And I say aryan nation because history has shown the U.$. leaves these aryan gangs and organizations alone. At least compared to what the U.$. government did to the Black Panthers. Has anyone ever heard of a COINTELPRO (counter intelligence FBI program) roundup of aryans? Inside of Amerika? Just look at how long it took the U.$. to step in and oppose the nazis.

So why isn’t an aryan soldier deemed a threat but a Panther is?

Is it because the Panthers actually voice dissent at a system that allows millions of children to starve to death? At a system that wars for profit and imprisons for the simple fact you are not white, or rich enough to dodge the bullet? Because the Panthers use statistics and percentages:


U.$. Black incarceration rate per 100,000: 1,947
U.$. white incarceration rate per 100,000: 306(1)
Iraqi children killed because of U.$. sanctions (1996): 500,000 (2)

Not folklore and myth to attempt to grasp reality, they’re “dangerous” and deemed a threat to the white elitists who run the amerikan military, and prison industries.

A Panther seeks an end to all wars. What is the aryan soldier’s take on the issue of war? They don’t have one. Unless it’s the willingness to join the U.$. military and fight for “their” country. A Panther will not join the military out of moral and ethical beliefs.

And then we come to “choice of words” or “manners” that these two groups have adopted over time because their environments have forced such polarities. A person in the aryan soldier brotherhood has time to write about and justify his tattoos. He could be seen as a man who isn’t in no hurry at all. No danger for this man or his people is imminent. He thinks of tattoos. And justifying himself and his gang.

But a panther worried about the deaths of his friends, loved ones and comrades, at the hands of an aryan system, will speak with an entirely different tone of voice. Because he must hurry, it’s life or death for him, his family and 15 million children annually. His people. The ones oppressed and dying because of this white elitist aryan system of government.

It’s like this. You and a friend are walking toward the Grand Canyon. 1,000 yards away your buddy turns around and walks backwards smiling at you. You say, “funny, but we’re far away from the cliff. nice tattoos.” At about 500 yards you say “well dude, better face forward or you’ll walk over the cliff.” At 5 yards you’re not going to smile and say “please”; you’ll grab him; or if he’s too far away, you’ll scream “stop! now!” even if it hurts his feelings or upsets him.

Unless you’d rather talk about his hair style or tattoos. Unless you don’t care if he (15 million children) die. Would it make a difference to an aryan soldier what color this man’s, 5 yards from a cliff’s edge walking towards it backwards, skin was? Most certainly it would. Read the 14 words.

Even though I’m a white “redneck,” I am very put off by aryan soldiers. I personally am ashamed and embarrassed when anyone tries to support or stick up for “14/88” or “skinhead($)”. And, i guess, this makes me a race traitor to these people, and a captive that sticks up for “undesirables.” But I don’t care. I’m already deemed a “threat to the community” and a “terrorist” in most people’s eyes. What’s a group of Nazis ‘hating on me’ going to add to the state of Utah’s and government’s already dislike for my anti-imperialist person? Nothing.

To justify a Black Panther and their beliefs is progressive and correct. To (attempt to) justify a white supremacist is backwards and frightening to the world’s majority.

Notes:

1. MIM Theory 11: Amerikkkan Prisons on Trial, p. 59.
2. Arundhati Roy, “Power Politics”, p. 111.

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[Control Units]
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Home Sweet Home

Go to your bathroom door and kick a hole in it. Now lock yourself in tight. Throw all your hygiene items, except a toothbrush and toothpaste tube, out the hole. Everything. Now go sit. The light switch disappears and the shower splits. A little speaker replaces them. It listens and sometimes speaks to you, laughs at you, taunts you, tells you your sufferings entertaining. You can’t shut off the light with no switch and you’ll have to shower using the sink. As you sit you hear ten or so voices outside the door. That’s funny, sounds like that guy who robbed my mother’s house last year and put her in a wheelchair after brutally beating and raping her. It can’t be! Is that the judge that let the man run free too? And his twisted attorney? Why they here?

The worst enemies you could imagine, or put a face to, have just moved into your house as you sit in the bathroom. These people wish you harm of the utmost, and your death would be nothing but joy to them. All your food, and any mail you might be expecting, will have to come from these “squatter-enemies.” Good luck!

To make matters worse, these enemies of yours control all your heating, air conditioning, water form your sink and to your toilet. And to top it off, if they see you sleeping they’ll kick the door and yell at you, then laugh.

You can hear these men day and night right outside your door. You smell them Bar-B-Qing and smoking. You’re hungry. You can hear these men torturing people. Sometimes other people in similar bathrooms next to yours are pulled out and placed in body bags. To these “squatter’s” amusement.

A day passes this way.

“My god,” you say “what have I done to deserve this?”
A week passes
You cry
A month
You attempt suicide but your vein closes up before death
A year

You are now talking to yourself and running around naked. You are convinced the food you seldom receive, that’s halfway edible, is poisoned. As you eat the rotten “meat” your beard and mustache get in the way of the teeth chewing. You couldn’t cry if life depended on it. And it used to. But you’ve forgotten why.

Two years.

You can’t remember. You’ve forgotten. Forgotten what? You don’ know. The “squatter-enemies” come around and you look at them. They look at you. They laugh. You start to laugh too. You forgot why. But you do.

Three years.

You sleep 20 hours a day. You can’t help it. But your floor’s clean. You keep it spotless. You don’t know why. But you do. You’re skinny. You’ve lost an easy 60 pounds. Your skin’s turning yellow and your legs cramp up and atrophy. You don’t want to die anymore. Why bother? You’d rather sleep and dream. The dreams are so vivid. More real than these walls.

Five years

You go home, you leave your bathroom, this year they tell you that. But why? Where do I go? I don’t want to leave now. I like my tub and sink…


MIM(Prisons) adds: This comrade vividly describes the torture that is found in control units in prisons across the U.$. The criminal injustice system uses the torture chambers as tools to break the will of politically conscious prisoners. It is one more weapon in the criminal injustice system’s work of social control. For more information about these units and what you can do to join the fight, see our campaign against prison control units.

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[Mental Health] [Medical Care] [Utah]
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Say No to Escape Drugs

It’s funny because back when I was more of a knucklehead escapist I wanted medications to help me zone out or sleep through this Auschwitz. And they told me I wasn’t crazy enough then for drugs. Now that I’ve discovered reality, and am snapping them in the ass with it daily, they’re crying for me to be medicated and psychologically tested!

Well, they had their chance to turn me into a zombie. Now it’s my turn to show them they’re hypocrites. I do not believe forced medications are in the picture. But I wanted to give everyone a heads up just in case some curve ball comes my way. If you start receiving letters from me, talking about UFOs and my new brand of comfy diapers, writing in a child’s hand, you’ll know something’s up.

They’ll have to wrestle the poison into me each time though. Maybe I shouldn’t be dwelling on this, or even speaking about it, but I’ve spent my fair share of time force medicated, cramped up and yelling/moaning uncontrollably on the cold cement for months at a time, as COs laugh and kick you in the side. Sweating, being spit on and only fed a sandwich bag of dry cereal and an apple a day. Not being even able to chew with your jaw locked up from the Haldol.

The pigs do this sort of torture to break a person. But what they don’t know is a small percentage will always become very still inside after being treated like that. So still they perceive him/her as broken. Silent. And they’ll move on to the next victim.

But this quiet one will wait and learn and watch. He/she’ll smile when they expect a smile. And laugh when they see something as funny and need verification it’s so. But this person’s not… there’s not the same individual “in there” anymore. I mean, how could there be?

There are two roads one can take. One is of poisons and suicide. The other is of sweat and a sort of intelligent number$ where everything petty, insignificant, small, and worthless is what it is and rolls off his/her back.

You continue. But not for you do you do this. Something deep inside understands when nine suited up weightlifters beat a chained soul, your soul, inside you’re turned into this time bomb. Sort of. And of such a magnitude, that if you learn to control it, so it doesn’t detonate and destroy yourself, it works wonders at getting you through. Through anything. You walk and the sea of people part because they feel and see what’s inside you.

It’s dangerous. But it’s so dangerous not because it seeks to hurt. Oh, It’ll hurt, but only if it’s to help another in the same type of the situation where he/she was tempered. Seeing totally outnumbered people being beaten. Whether in groups of ten, or nations of ten million. These numbered captives who were raised as parasites, only to be fed to fellow parasites, are dangerous, are in my opinion the true revolutionary force in this nation of $nake$.

We just gotta get to them before they explode. Before they manipulate themselves some Seroquel or Effexor [psych drugs]. Before they stop caring and actually start becoming entertained by the simple, mundane, petty-pussy-patriotic slogans and shiny bloodstained third world baubles dancing merrily in front of their questioning eyes.

This is coming from one saved by the scruff of my neck because of MIM(Prisons) and comrades’ tireless work ‘out there’ to pull the wool from captives eyes ‘in here.’

I owe my life to the anti-imperialist struggle. I just hope, and train my body and mind, to contribute positively each day, and in the future, to the struggle.

Because I must, or I’d already be dead.

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[Rhymes/Poetry] [Utah] [ULK Issue 16]
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Apologetic Subterfuge

February 21st, 2010: a three car convoy of Afghans were traveling to the market and then to a hospital for medical treatment. U.$. forces saw Afghans traveling together and launched an air to ground attack. Women jumped out waving their scarves to communicate they were civilians. The U.$. helicopter continued firing. 21 killed. 13 wounded.

December 26th, 2009: U.$. forces raided a home, pulled eight young men ages 11 - 18 out of their beds and gunned them down execution style. U.$. forces and distraught villagers later learned all were innocent of any wrongdoing. An apology was issued by the U.$. military.

Apologetic subterfuge?!

You can love me if you want
Feel free to hate me if you need
Just keep away from me your ignorance
Your racism and patriotic greed
Believe in your jesus
Your superiority and programmed ways
If it helps you sleep at night
Keep preaching your ‘end of days’
Seven comes eleven its a crying shame
When the last time you did a pushup
you fucking lames!
Our bodies were built for sweat and love
minds wired for compassion not drugs
Turn off your fucking TV zombie
unplug that phone and those radios
Now listen, you hear it? ‘crunch crunch’
That’s those red white and blue imperialist goblins
eating Afghani wives and children for lunch
and the ticking sound that’s increasing slowly
it’s that capitalist system you love
slowly imploding
I’ll shed no more tears for you Amerikkka
I’ll never forgive you for what you’ve done
chewing on pregnant mothers and sons
killing unarmed little girls for fun
I’m an anti-imperialist communist poet
and we’re winning motherfuckers
Fox 13’s just not letting you know it.

February 12th 2010: U.$. forces raided a home and killed five people, including two pregnant mothers and a girl engaged to be married. The New York Times even uncovered Amerikkkan troops engaging in a deliberate cover up in an April 5th 2010 article.

According to a March 3rd 2010 report “The U.$. ignored the deaths of more than 850 Afghan children from treatable/preventable diseases as they focus warring on the second poorest country in the world”

Fuck you Amerikkka!
Straight up.
no apologies.
and no more hiding.
we’re watching,
waiting….
tick tick tick!

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[Rhymes/Poetry] [Utah]
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Firing Squad

I’ve seen them walk in with the bleach
Goose stepping out with the rifles
Bloody fragments and bone in blonde hair
Brand new Casio watch, new shoes, clean underwear
The traces of the dead man’s Prozac
Ulcer medications and ibuprophins
Mingle loosely with the trigger mens viagra
with their cocaine and caffeine grins
Where you off to now Mr. Executioners?
After you’ve lynched in the most disgusting way
you are off to your grandchild’s christening
to her prom night or school play
my sweat drips on to the cold concrete and I chant, i say, “you can’t stop us,
it’s inevitable. Soon all you know will fall.”
Tattered socks scrape and squeak as I motion
I raise my arms and tap my chest, “ten”
counting out the sets and counting down the days
here’s a promise that I believe the people support
we won’t blindfold you, we’ll allow you to watch
you’ll need to see the ones now holding the rifles
are the very same you’ve oppressed, starved and stifled
and we will pull the trigger out of social conscience
not out of your racism, greed or chauvinistic pride
and it will not be a secret, the world can watch
nothing will need to be hidden or secret
because we’ll explain why, to our children we’ll teach it
that the reason we kill you pig isn’t out of hate
it’s that food you stockpiled that the starving masses never ate

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[Rhymes/Poetry] [Utah] [ULK Issue 15]
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Catacomb Reversal

Unwashed bodies
mortal stink
scrunches your piggy nose
to your moral wreak
you do not smell
anymore than our torture
you do not feel
anymore than they tell you
bloody bodies
necks twisted from nooses
carted off like junk
our chests blown out
our backs
by four all-amerikkkan chumps
you must hurry and get away
pass out pills then scurry away
cringe and laugh
be disgusted
it’s not your mind and body
lying here busted
we suffer because of you
cursed U.$.
not in spite of you
and these racist tests
worsen worsen
extend and crumble
lay down in your fucking grave imperialism
lie down beast
stumble, sputter and mumble

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[Organizing] [Peru] [Utah]
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Fuck you too Amerika

In just days our comrade Ronnie Garner will be shot to death by trigger happy pigs at the Utah state plantation. Line upon line of trigger happy swine congregate. Just itching to be one of the five to open fire on an unarmed, seated, shackled and waist chain and cuffed human being. Tickets are sold out with standing room only for one of imperialist Amerikkka’s favorite shows. A lynching. High def, surround stereo sounds reports of five rifles, four loaded, just what the ignorant chauvinistic piles of racist shit needed to return the old bounce to the abusive, greedy step.

Settler nation. Thieving cowardly nation. As those rifles hollow-pointed slugs tear through an unpremeditated killers beating heart. As five premeditated murderers slay a man who was threatened with such a demise for centuries. As the state treated all his ills for this long, from ulcers to dandruff, and now sees fit to just blow his chest out his back for sport. All you across this doomed Americur$e know this. I scream anti-imperialism with two fingers in the air. Fuck you too Amerika!

As the Mexican border walls get higher and higher to keep starving people off Amerikan streets, Amerikur$e ships/flies ton upon ton of military might and fattened U$ soldiers to Iraqi/Afgani streets. “Hypocritic swine,” I scream. You rich fucks in the oval office who smoke “illegal” smuggled Cuban cigars and have sex with children, prostitutes, each other. I scream socialist proletarian justice and have your spots chalked out in my mind for your firing squad$.

As all eyes turn to this Utah lynching of a tied, seated man. Dandruff and cavity free. Let us not forget the masses toothless with lice who sharpen blades in leaky lean-to. Let us never forget the millions who starve to death yearly because the U$ snakes see fit to not feed them as there is no profit in it.

As I approach release from USP after two plus years down in this UINTA One control unit. And bid ‘fare-in-martyrdom-well’ to a fellow political prisoner of war I scream again. What do I yell you ask? Is it revenge at the cost of my life or a light show on the ten-o-clock news? A blaze of glory?

Fuck no comrades. It’s to the library I go and to your piggy drug abuse classes. It’s to the parole office I go smiling. Because there isn’t a dope pipe or ‘pigs-brains-on-concrete’ that can get me as high as this anti-imperialist struggle does. I’ll play your games and beat you at them you cowardly pigs and then some. No more will I be your puppet to dance and justify these wars on crime/drugs. To justify these killer fascist koncentration Kamps.

You’ll lose Amerika. You will. And on that day we’ll truly see who gets the firing squad. Might even give your overweight, liposucked fat racist asses a running start too.

Power to the people!

MIM(Prisons) adds: Ronnie Garner is scheduled to be executed by firing squad on June 18, 2010, but his lawyers are working to appeal. We do not know Mr. Garner or the details of his case.

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