Dr Legion True WINS BACK FULL CUSTODY ... ... 'cept
... ... except she is deceived.
It is easier to lie and to deceive --- it most certainly soooo is ---
inside an American court of family law --- either inside a district one or inside an appellate court ---
than it is to lie and to deceive ... ... even one's own self !
" ... ... we're a family !" And then ? ... ... Then, we weren't:
... ... http://www.imdb.com/title/tt3553976/videoplayer/vi3819942937?ref_=tt_ov_vi
My closest
friend in the World –– you, Jury, know of her from back within Chapter Five / Friends and from within Chapter Thirteen
/ Finishing School (her Listening
College) for Fathers –– told me when
she, Ms Grace Portia, read Hypocrite Herry’s chatty hooking blather exactly one
month after it was published, “I guess Herod needs to profess what
he’s done ‘to protect’ children.”
Friend Grace
is referring to not only that one OUTRAGE of Patriarch Edinsmaier’s
androcentric, asinine and criminal entitlement of
himself near Chapter Twenty – Nine’s conclusion whereat he, an adult male modeling
an allegedly accountable fathering role, literally leads Dr. Legion True’s two minor
Boys, Jesse then just labeled with bipolar brain, and Mirzah, right into, onto
and throughout another woman’s property, not only without her permission but
also without the DEhuman even being present at her own residence, for his and
the teenage Boys’ motherfucking, dissing – of – all – women’s and mocking purpose
of home invasion, stealing and subsequently absconding with my
(from AmTaham True’s) guns kept and stored there in Friend Linda’s basement
–––– but Grace also refers in that one wee profundity of hers regarding King Herod
and his ‘fatherly protection’ … … to absolutely all.all.all of The
Opera: We Were Mothers Once, and Young,
that is, to what Smug Thuggish, Elitist, Terrorist and Savage Herod Edinsmaier
has unconstitutionally and criminally perpetrated upon me and upon my Three
Boys within, and outside of, the states’ custody court system throughout all of
the many decades’ worth of Hypocrite Herry’s comings and goings and thinkings
and doings.
Within the
scathing dissent of Appellate Judge Pansy Shawshank’s first page’s first half and
immediately succeeding Legion’s second appeal (Act Three, Part Five of The Opera !) completely written,
all of it printed off in to its mandated ! 21 total copies ! with Dr. True’s never
missing in the appeal’s unfolding sequence even one correct document’s file –
stamping nor even one deadline therefor and orally argued by herself –– ! pro
se ! –– before the three – judge panel of Tuesday, 07 June 1994’s Iowa Court of
Appeals, Judge Shawshank states thus: “LOOKING
AT THE RECORD BEFORE US IN THIS APPEAL,
I DO NOT THINK WE COULD HAVE BEEN MORE WRONG
WHEN WE
PREDICTED HEROD WOULD HELP THE CHILDREN DEVELOP A STRONG RELATIONSHIP WITH BOTH
PARENTS. I CAN ONLY CONCLUDE FROM THE
RECORD BEFORE US THAT AFTER HEROD RECEIVED PHYSICAL CARE, HE AND HIS CURRENT
WIFE ENGAGED IN A COURSE OF CONDUCT DESIGNED TO TOTALLY CUT LEGION OFF FROM HER
THREE YOUNG SONS WHO HAVE CONTINUALLY DECLARED THEY WISH TO BE IN THEIR
MOTHER’S CUSTODY.”
Ms Pansy
here, of course, writes of the “verdict,” the decisioning about children’s
parenting and their well - being by three men of the State, only one of whom had
heard Legion True’s second appeal. Yes,
you, Jury, guessed him: Allen Donnellson. Donnellson, the dirty dude who had perped That
Very B I I I I G, Big Mistake from The Opera’s First Appeal (Act Two Part Three) wherein all three of
those men had unconstitutionally decided that Hypocrite Herry actually be
the Truemaier Boys’ custodial, read that, ‘protecting’ … … daddee.
Know this especially
though, Jury: that of those three appellate
judges’ verdict after Legion True’s second appeal? TWO of those three, Judge Pansy Shawshank and
the quite newly appointed Judge Barry L. Crowrook, rule in favor of restoring
full custody back to Dr. True. 2 to 1 the
Truemaier Boys’ mama prevails!
Dr. Legion True WINS back full custody of her three
Truemaier Boys: Jesse, Mirzah and Zane !
THE DECEIVING ! = Only when
that Court of Appeals’ Chief Donnellson, similarly pillared in the eyes of the Iowa
community as the Good and Wonderful Dr. Edinsmaier considers himself to be so
statured, … … only when Dastard Donnellson, because he as daMan possesses the corrupting,
aprovechar – taking and blindingly absolute power in his little “justice” –
system keystrokes to do so, invokes and hooks in to this second appellate
decisioning two more additional but different judges, also patriarchs
and who previously had had nothing at all to do with the True appeal and who had
heard of it no arguments whatsoever and because, primarily, To The
Cuntly DEhuman, Dr. Legion True, There Is No Mother – Fucking Way, Ever, That Judge
Donnellson of the First Appeal Is Going To Admit Having Committed Such a Carnage
– Wrecking Mistake as His Declaring Herod Edinsmaier Any Kind of An Actual Father,
… … is Vengeance – Taking and Hypocrite Herry through years and years’ worth of
his trying to hoodwink and hook You, the Operatic Audience – Jury, in ––– actually
“legally”
capable of causing the children who are the three Truemaier Boys and all of
their lives ––– now by an androcentric “verdict” of 3 to 2 against Legion True
––– to be lost to the mother and causing their mother, the DEhuman, to be for
all of their youths invisible, then never existent to Mirzah,
Zane and Jesse.
Daddee
Herry Edinsmaier’s Gutting – of – the – Bitch Butchery, Jury. C o m p l e t e !
The bones
of this
Displaced Wartime Refugee’s True Father who is Righteous Ancestor AmTaham … … rest.
But only
because, now, they are of osseous ash and carbonaceous dust.
Not
because, Jury, of any justice at any time anywhere done to or for this matter, My
Case: The Opera, of the True
Father’s Child: the Ancestor – in –
Training and, now, One Woman Well Put Together, Legion True.
True it is.
O, so head – bangingly true it is !
“Nobody puts Baby in a corner.”
--- Patrick Swayze
portraying the film role of Johnny Castle in Dirty Dancing, 1987
- fin-
--- Epilogue - excerpt of pp506 - 507, the Trilogy of Mother - Fucking: the Saga of One Fucked Mother
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
I
could
do something, however, about the remainder of Youngest Son Mirzah’s
high school experience. Immediately I made an appointment for the 22nd
of August, with Mirzah’s former pediatrician’s office to have done for
him that very vaccination pronto: the MMR. School –– Mirzah’s
sophomore year at Ames High –– could commence then … unobstructed. As
the two of us inside the beater – wagon turned the Teacup’s corner onto
Havencourt Drive along around 4 that Tuesday afternoon and after just
concluding less than an hour earlier this so simple chore over to the
Clinic, Mirzah and I smiled about the ease of this particular visit to
the doctor –– in contrast to those of tiny children when they have to
periodically go in for their shots. Almost simultaneously, we together
spotted in the distance sitting alongside the curb of 6143, our
condominium, something looming there about which I had such the ominous
and threatening flashback: a Ryder rental truck.
Ol’
Black crept closer and closer to our driveway, and the smile vanished
from my mouth. I cast a jerked and frightened gawk at Mirzah who
exclaimed as he leaned forward toward the dashboard, “It’s Herry!”
“Om’god!
A truck just like when he first took you all away, Mirzah!”
Immediately thrown right back into hypervigilance mode, I remembered out
loud that horrible Saturday morning of the 13th day of October almost
five years previously! “What’s he doing here?! What’s he doing here
with a truck, for chris’sake!?”
“I called him.”
“You called him?!”
“Wull, yeah. But. Um.”
“You
called him an’, and … an’ right away out he comes?! But why?!” I was
stunned. “What’s he gonna do?! He’s got a truck, for chris’sake! What
does that mean, Mirzah?!”
“Well, ah, I … I, um, I think it means I’m going back to West Virginia, Mom.”
I
was sick! Literally … sick. Nauseated and throat – choked, my
breathing ceased again! Sure enough. “In and out in about an hour,”
just like that television commercial beckons a viewer to go get himself
fixed up with a pair of new eyeglasses of that hawking store’s
particular brands.
“In and out in about an hour,” my
whole life was stolen from me … yet once AGAIN! By now –– Daddee –
Herry’s so infamous bait – and – switch gutting of the Bitch’s whole
essence. And of at least two of those three Truemaier Boys’ beings, of
course, as well. Yet once AGAIN!
As much as my
remembering that so twisted whirlwind of those 60 – some minutes’ worth
of both of these Truemaier Boys’ last moments beside me there on
Havencourt Drive, I recall Herod Edinsmaier’s … signature snide
smirkface. The Good and Wonderful Doctor – Daddee was on … The Take
again! From specifically me –– on the prowl and on His Take … AGAIN!
Taking back –– from me, the Kiddos’ mama –– both Mirzah and Jesse!
“SONS, YOU HAVE NO MOTHER! MOTHER, YOU HAVE NO SONS! I say so!
Therefore, Pussy, it is so!”
As with very many a hating
and violent man, I am thinking now as I type, Jury, that if joy ever
comes to this guy from anywhere or from anything, –– ever, truly –– then
its emergence for him must almost always be tied to: how great is the
pain and the grief and the sorrow –– how great is the vengeance –– that
Dr. Herod Edinsmaier can manage to reign in and to rain down upon Legion
True. What an insecure man! Dry – Drunk and Addict Herry’s happiness
depends, daily, upon taking –––– upon his taking away … mine.
Pretty
much the exact same assessment of and sentiment expressed about Herry
–– precisely as a father –– by Iowa Court of Appeals Appellate Judge
Pansy Shawshank –––– within her six – page majority decision! … … ah,
er, that is, inside the one which, of course, became … because of sexism
and chicanery by that court’s Chiefy Donnellson plus a couple other of
his specific judiciary’s hench –– ah, er, um, … bench – men … the
woman’s dissent, instead! She, naturally its one and only token DEhuman
jurist, so saw Hardhearted Herry for who he was, too –– and she did so
in far less time and scope than most other folks who come into Dr.
Edinsmaier’s sphere have had at their disposals in order “to measure”
him. Him … daMan. A destroyer doctor. “First, do no harm?” As so
decrees the very first dictum to which all health care providers pledge
themselves? This one also an alleged daddee, granted the M.D. degree in
March of 1980, when Mirzah Truemaier was but a wee six months of age
and Brother Jesse a 19 – month – old, is not an honorable and healing
lifter – up of humankind but, instead, an insecure, ruthless –– and
measurable –– rot who denies, ruptures and annihilates.
I
had already forgotten about the disagreement Mirzah and I had had
sometime during the previous week. And, now, I cannot even remember the
cause at that time of my vexation with my so soon – to – be sophomore
Son nor the scrape in which the two of us must have earlier engaged. I
am said to have been so ireful at whatever it was that Mirzah did or
said or wanted or decided on his own that I locked him out of the
condominium declaring as I did so the directive, “My house. My rules.”
I don’t believe the squabble could have been focused on something
Mirzah said and certainly nothing that he did to people whom he
considers his friends and acquaintances. He is just too sweet – natured
a human being, then and now, to have purposefully and calculatingly
with nefarious motive, hurt any one of his contemporaries intentionally.
Except for one matter –––– pornography. What hath Herry Edinsmaier wrought?
With
his gonzo mind and his snide mouth and Corrupt Herry’s dastardly deeds
against women, I suddenly remembered about, as Ol’ Black inched into the
condo’s driveway, those two DEhumans whom Dr. Herod Edinsmaier had not
even cared enough about to have bothered himself to get out of bed in
time to show up for the women’s breast biopsies as their frozen –
section pathologist whom he had been hired by Kansas City’s Downshim
Laboratories to be! With Herry’s bestial (literally, –– Jury, remember
the cows – / dogs – / pigs – / chickens – / and cunt models – fucking)
view of womankind –– that same contaminating contagion which he had
inherited from Detanimod’s Grand – Dominating Poker – Patriarch Juggern
Aut Misein Edinsmaier and the one which both That Old Mother – Fucker
and the sooooo, so christianizingly DEhuman – fucking Martin Luther
King, Jr. held about aaaall of us females, –– why, Daddee Herry had
easily, readily –– and happily –– passed woman – loathing and his
concerted DEhumanization of well over half of the World’s populations
anywhere on … to all of the sons. And, most especially, Model Parent
Edinsmaier, relying upon for his “excuse” to do so the Truemaier Boys’
and his most entitled of “cultural” speech freedoms, could voluminously
secure as he so desired to procure for his own addicted neediness then,
more and more and more pornography, “Stupid – Ass Heifer, now doncha’ be
a – messin’ with my and m’boys’ First Amendment Right, You Whore!”
Exactly
the very escape from accountability –– this paternal – filial
pornography – ‘sharing’ camaraderie is –– as the alcoholic father who
purposefully places himself in situations in order to be able to drink
with his kiddo. And jokingly but yet loudly terms it to them and to all
the World as … “bonding” –– instead of as the addiction it actually is!
“How can ya’ come between a man and his dad when they’re just out
enjoyin’ a coupla’ brews together at the ballpark, Bitch?” Pops gets
what he wants, doesn’t he, Jury? More and more and more booze. And the
adult child? Why, the kid also gets what Bucko – Pappy –– and Attorney
Jazzy Jinx some time back had counseled that Slacker – Slick Daddee ––
always wants: Father as the picture – perfect “parent who just likes to
have some fun, ya’ know. To show ‘his good, good buddy’ a mighty fine
time, that’s all!” But it –– the sham –– is soooo not all –– at all, is
it, Jury?
The one child likely most influenced by the
twisted yet so commonly “accepted” recesses of Dr. Herod Edinsmaier’s
deviance was the one child actually with his mama the least amount of
time –– Mirzah.
If the quarrel had been about print
pornography or videotape pornography run and viewed upon my
condominium’s VCR machine or if I had come across other formats of woman
– loathing, then I certainly can see where I would have acted on the
“my house / my rules” declaration. I had explained –– repeatedly and
try to do so to this day –– how the production and consumption of
pornography by any person is the purposeful and intentional harm and
destruction and loathing of female human beings –– 53 percent of and,
therefore, the majority of the entire Earth. A DEhumanization with
proportions not equaled by any other matter in the whole wide World; but
I was with Mirzah, and, therefore, to date his maternally parental
influencer, … the least amount within his lifetime.
And
Herry? Herry, as husband and as ex – spouse, has plied his addiction
and purposefully involved his minor children with it in quite the
silenced and secretive way that that alcoholic daddee carries on with
his hooch, “The more my sons drink with me, the more I can, too!”
Whether that juicing jag takes place at home or in bars, in cars or
during a day at the beach. Anywhere. “The more my kids use porn and
think it fun, humorous and entertainment, then the more of it my brain
gets to have?! Well, that’s just A – okay, too! After all, we’re
bonding! Me an’ m’boys! Father and son –– we’re buds! Jus’ engagin’ in
a … ‘bonding’ … activity together, for chris’sake, Twat!”
When
those 12 issues of Playboy had, regular as the moon’s cycles, crept
into his Othello Drive bachelor – pad starter castle under the
subscription Daddee – Herry had corrected for nine – year – old Zane
Truemaier’s ordering of it and all four of its household’s males had
retired together to King Herod’s den with any one of the particular,
newly arrived issues of it … “to check on the Boys’ development,” Mirzah
and Mirzah’s brain had been only six years old. When the separation
and divorce was pending and Addicted Herry, right straightaway, ‘chose’
Ms. Fannie Issicran McLive with whom to start keeping company, it was
Mirzah, barely seven and eight years of age, whom Herry took with him
when he went to buy for her a gem – studded condom and a “hormones are
raging” greeting card. All three Truemaier Boys were present during a
mandatory visitation (Of course! Of course, these sojourning soirées
were androcentrically and sperm – exaltingly … daddee – mandatory!) with
Herry when Daddee Dearest, smirkingly I am sure, told Ms. McLive a
three ducks’ anuses’ joke inside a booth at a Fatlantic café –– that
particular tarriance of the Wooing and Courting King Herod’s having been
the Boys’ –– any of my three Truemaier Boys’ –– very first time meeting
The Other Snide Person who in such short order was to become their …
so, so unwilling to – step – back – from and to – step – out – of – the –
Real – Mama – position’s step – mother.
And through
the years, there had been more. So much, much more. The Boys had been
inundated when they were still in and then, even more frequently, just
passed the primary grades and going, going, going, … then finally
altogether … gone from me. Gone –– Zane, Jesse and Mirzah –– from me,
their mama.
All crimes, of course. Every instance a
crime. All of it criminal and perpetrated by one abusing, violent and
violating man, their own biological father, that Great and Wonderful
Healer, Dr. Herod Edinsmaier.
With Mirzah always then
the youngest –– both in terms of the Daddee Herry – “approved” and –
facilitated exposure to and use of pornography and of a child’s
perception with regard to the whole and utterly complete disappearance
so fashioned and brought about by that same father of the kiddo’s own
mother –– there came into existence then the altogether determined
wiping – out, the absolute erasure and deletion of a so inconveniently
protecting mama who would have tried, had she physically been around, to
put a stop to Daddee – Herry’s (and, generationally, to Juggern Aut
Misein Edinsmaier’s) insidious inculcation and passing on of woman –
hating to her children, all of them happening to be, of course, in Dr.
Legion True’s case, … male children. That is, the World’s women’s worth
of at least three of its very next generation of marrying and / or
fathering and / or ancestoring … men.
Right in line
soooo Catholic Edinsmaier’s christianizing of my three Sons is ––
exactly as had been the schooling of Ms. Soraya Manutchehri’s two eldest
boys (out of her nine – born children in 14 years’ time … rather
precise shades, not so Jury? Anyone? of Juggern Aut’s perpetual poking
of Detanimod … ) by the woman’s sharia “law” – spewing Sperm Donor,
Ghorban – Ali Manutchehri. Wanting to mawwy another much, much younger
DEhuman, a teenaged schoolgirl actually, and to support only one wife,
Mr. Manutchehri, the mama’s two oldest sons and her very own father ––
in full and hooting view of the entire town and right alongside all of
those ‘educated’ males of ‘The Court’ which had just condemned Ms.
Soraya, falsely accused of infidelity but such for that specific daddee …
The Inconvenient Wife so by its islamic “law” on “these matters” so, so
easily manmade now “no longer a human being” –– “freely” set about
murdering her, this suddenly made Non Human, by hurling stones aimed in
1986, right at and striking her head, throat and thorax until this
battered, eviscerated and unrecognizable corpse of a cur –– “That
Bitch!” –– she, the mother, altogether stopped breathing. Gutted. Made
gone … she. In and out with ‘The Court’ ’s ruling on the woman in
about a dusty and bloodied hour’s time –– is all.
In an’ out –– literally, –– in and altogether out of life –– in about an hour!
‘Member,
Jury, how it is that Dr. Herod Edinsmaier had, as well, wanted quite
dead ... Dr. Legion True? Only difference? Offing the True Twat
himself –– in this christianizingly patriarchal country –– may have cost
him his doctoring position and, thus, his money. So Daddee – Herry ––
as have as well so many, many spousal daddees including Ghorban – Ali –
Daddee –– simply “used” the most willing men of ‘The Court’ … ‘alone’ …
to kill her off. Apparently … “quite constitutional” –– and within
aaaaall of their very, very manmade / “We tell ourselves thus and so ––
cuz we, DaMen, sooooo can” ‘laws,’ too!
It would be no
wonderment to me at all that a clash which the now nearly 16 – year –
old Mirzah and I evidently had had … may have centered around something
woman – loathing such as pornography. Mirzah had plenty of friends, of
course, as agreeable, as kind and as amiable as he always, always
appeared to me to be with other guys his own age. But it was also true
that for almost seven preteen and adolescent years’ worth I had not a
physical clue –– I hadn’t been (allowed !!! to be) around him since he
was nine! –– about his dealings, about Mirzah’s … comings, goings,
thinkings and doings … with that same age group of girls. And I do
recall, with both Jesse and Mirzah back in Ames and Jesse’s so recent
threat of alcohol toxicity, having laid down some parameters about the
perimeter of 6143 Havencourt, one of which –– for a fact I know, ––
would have been that no pornography of any kind exist on those premises
for any reason nor possessed under its roof by anybody.
That
summer of 1995, in Ames the Truemaier Boys and I certainly had had no
home computer and, therefore, no easy internet access. The passageway,
that is, to web – based pornography. It was not until the next
February’s Leap Day as I cleaned out the Havencourt condominium in my
preparations for altogether leaving behind our Teacup subdivision that I
came across, wedged down behind what had been Mirzah’s mattress, a
computer – produced ‘business card’ done up on cardstock – quality paper
and sized appropriately to any general ones which I have ever seen. On
white in simple, black – inked font were the words, “Your Friendly
Neighborhood Ho Service. Dial 666 – 5678 for a really, really good
time. ––– Signed, Mirzah and Matt, Pimps. Confidentiality GUARANTEED.”
By 5 o’clock that hot and humid August afternoon, Mirzah and Jesse –– again … viciously made no longer Iowans –– vanished.
The
yellow truck pulled away; and with its doing so, I remember most …
Herry’s smirkface. I also know that the pillared Dr. Edinsmaier took
away with him more, however, –– that aprovechar of his again! –– … more
that late afternoon than my two Truemaier Boys.
As I
had scurried around the condominium, to its three bedrooms upstairs and
down to the basement, rounding up every bit of clothing and equipment
and treasures I guessed –– in my concurrent and profound sorrow! –– that
the two Boys would want with them when back in West Virginia, my one –
vehicle garage went … … ‘unguarded.’
And, a couple of
days later, when I needed that pliers? The one in the vessel resting
upon Mirzah’s wooden changing dais painted bronze with its so easy – to –
clean Formica tabletop, the sturdiest ever with baby supplies’ drawers
built in underneath, the table which AmTaham True had, just 16 years
earlier, constructed from leftover scraps of remodeling materials when
he first learned I had become pregnant for the third time and Mirzah’s
Grandpa had not wanted his Legion’s backbone to ache anymore from my
repeatedly crouching down on the floor multiple times a day to change
his grandbambino’s diapers!
Well, my pliers? All of
my tools had gone missing, too suddenly, as suddenly and at exactly when
as had Jesse and Mirzah! Including the galvanized metal, standard –
sized toolbox in which Grandpa AmTaham had collected them all for me,
the general genre of receptacle which any respectable repairperson owns!
* * * *
This man was not
done with that particular day’s worth of taking. Still. Of Herry
Edinsmaier’s taking away from Legion True. With my Boys’ taking and
with my tools’ taking, the man still had more –– much, much more of
aprovechar –– on His Agenda to accomplish.
Here I had
been left thinking that the Good and Wonderful Healer had swung my two
Boys right out onto Interstate – 35 and was spiriting them out of Iowa
as fast as that Ryder could possibly sprint, the entrance to that
freeway merely a half a mile from the one to our Havencourt Drive! But I
was wrong on this assumption!
Dr. Herod Edinsmaier,
Mirzah and Jesse Truemaier –– my Boys –– and his Ryder took a wide, wide
detour –––– one so wide its width matched that of my mouth’s gaping.
And of both Grace’s and Lynda’s, too!
What bulk, what
mass of unmitigated effrontery, insolent entitlement and flippant,
filliping arrogance the entire bunkum of Dr. Herod Edinsmaier is ––
especially when it comes to us … DEhumans. Lynda Kincaid lived
approximately five miles from me on Havencourt –– through some of the
most tangled web of streets and tortuous thoroughfares Ames possesses,
particularly … at rush hour. It was to her home’s INTERIOR that Corrupt
Herry Edinsmaier’s entitlement and arrogance –– his taking –– next
appeared. And it did so … right away within that very same hour as when
he had pilfered way away from me … both my two Kiddos and all of my
several tools.
“I can’t believe it,” I gasped. “You have to be kidding, Woman. Are you sure, Lynda?!”
I
am still incredulous as I am thinking on it right now. All ––
absolutely all –– of my girlfriends remain so to this day … as well. It
was a stunning performance by Herod Edinsmaier. Positively utterly
staggering.
We –– my friends and I –– we were never
“used” to his taking, to Pillared Father’s Rightster Herry’s snatching
up of my Boys whenever and wherever the time and the venue seemed to
suit him; but we women, at the least, knew that So Predictable Herod
Edinsmaier was entirely capable of this androcentric egregiousness, this
patriarchal cruelty. We just never expected, although so very well –
trained all of us should have been by now! we just never expected
Exalted Sperm Donor Edinsmaier’s next fucking flagrancy. Let alone, so
very, very mother – fuckingly soon! Within this very same –– “in – ‘nd
– out – in – about – an” –– hour! that “Fuck you, Bitches” – hour!
“O,
JYeah, Legion, I am sure!” Lynda Kincaid exploded. “They’re gone.
They’re all gone. The guns. They are gone from the basement, Legion.
Every last one of ‘em. Outta there! All of them! Taken.”
Months
later, Jesse himself confirmed this home – invasion crime for all of us
women: That Herry had actually driven up and out of his own gettin’ –
outta – the – Gutted – Bitch’s – town route is one thing in and of
itself. But Dr. Herod Edinsmaier had done so … for forbidden guns that
he did not even own. –– And never had!
As soon as
Absconder Edinsmaier pulled his rented transport, UNconstitutionally yet
domineeringly –– and criminally –– loaded up both with Legion True’s
two younger Boys and all of Legion’s garaged toolbox’s contents, out of
my driveway and back on to Havencourt’s street headed, I had so
incorrectly presumed, immediately on out to the interstate’s entrance
quite proximally nearby and bound, yet again, through those same five
states on back to Grubtrop, West Virginia, I had telephoned Lynda at her
National Animal Disease Center desk. She had been the first friend to
know –– to know of daMan’s same – style abduction … yet again! And …
yet again! … of another of Legion’s ripping heartbreaks. Lynda left
work to come to my side straightaway and, after cups of late –
afternoon, hot sage tea and as much head – banging truisms together
about our passions and our struggles as could be emotionally borne, had
driven not back to work since it was now eventide but directly on over
to her own home on Douglas Avenue.
I had not asked her
to –– to do so; Friend Lynda Kincaid had thought all on her own to
check. She told me on her commute on over to her street, a revelation
had come in to her brain, “This is Herod Edinsmaier Legion’s dealing
with. Of course, he just might do this. He just might! I’d better
check the shelves downstairs. Just in case.”
My telephone rang not more than 20 minutes after Lynda had exited my condominium’s front door.
These
were all of the guns given over to Jesse after … after … the divorce
and, more importantly, given over to him by his Grandpa AmTaham but …
but … but with one huge caveat: Given over from Grandpa AmTaham to
Jesse by way of me, … first. That is to say, Jesse’s grandfather had
made crystal clear to Jesse that his mother’s rules ruled … first!
First and foremost. “Only when Legion says you may, can you have any
access for any reason, for hunting or for target practice that is, at
all, Jesse! You must obey your mother on this, Jesse. Verstehen?
Verstehen, Young Man? I mean it. Do you understand me, Jesse?”
AmTaham
True, as a matter of fact for years before this date of 22 August 1995,
and when quite the Cinqué – of – the – Amistad style Ancestor – in –
Training, that is, when the man was alive, and for years before Jesse’s
freshest – ever 17th year (since his latest 15 August birthday had just
passed) had tried and tried and tried to have all three Boys understand
that the ownership and the use of any gun was far, far unlike the
ownership and the use of any other item which the Boys would ever, ever
possess.
Grandpa AmTaham had instructed all three
Boys that at no time in their teen years’ development of “a
relationship” between themselves and their firearms were any of the guns
and / or their ammunitions to be brought out of safekeeping and handled
by, or even just shown to, anyone else. As one may a new volleyball or
a new bicycle or how it is a kiddo gifted with a used, let alone a new,
vehicle might take her or his friends for a spin in it, for that
matter. Developing an adult mindset circa the ownership and the use of
firearms, AmTaham True taught, was akin to the learning of no other
lesson. And all –– absolutely all –– of one’s minor years when she or
he is still a teenager are to be determinedly spent up in the maturation
of this relationship between the person and the owned firearm. By the
time the person becomes 18 years of age, a parent or a grandparent ––
and no other adult, that is –– needs to have instilled in this child
enough then: enough protecting wisdom on this firearms’ ownership
matter. AmTaham had stated, as had Dr. Powell during the several hunter
safety session hours which Jesse and Zane had both enthusiastically,
and some time ago by then, attended in Storm County, that the properly
licensed parents and grandparents held entire and utter accountability
in this endeavor because at no time did any other adult in the kiddos’
lives –––– not their Uncle Mark, not Daddee’s Pal Kevin home on his
university’s semester break, not High School Voc Ag or Shop Teacher
Dick, –––– actually care about the muzzles’ locations and the emptied or
filled status of the guns’ chambers … as much as … does the children’s
own –– properly licensed –– parents or grandparents.
* * * *
“And
now … most importantly, … Jury, for the FLIP / REVERSE clincher on this
specific Tuesday’s events: What woman do you know, Folks, can get
clean, slick away with entering in to, home invasion – style … thus,
with the criminality of it all, her ex – husband’s friend’s home ––––
and abscond with daMan’s owned property, with all of his guns there for
example, being stored inside his pal’s premises? Huh, Jury? Name one
woman for me, please, –– anywhere in the Whole World –– who can get away
–– clean, slick away –– with this act? One woman who can, in addition,
TAKE with her inside this ex – husband’s friend’s home … her very own
daughter, too?! Take the teenaged daughter criminally inside the
residence, too, to serve as mama’s accomplice and as mother’s carrier –
of – Daddee’s – guns back out to the truck parked outside?! With this
mother – modeled ‘Fuck you, Bastards’ action of Mama’s and have back on
herself for her having done these several crimes absolutely NO
consequence whatsoever, Jury?! Name one woman anywhere who can do these
very same deeds as Herry Edinsmaier’s, please. One.”
Because
that is what Narcissist and Passive – Aggressor Herod Edinsmaier who
“is above the law because he tells his pillared self –– and my three
Truemaier Boys –– that they all are!” … did! And then, and by now well
in to the 21st Century, daMan is known to have gotten his modeling self
and my Boy Jesse –– with my Boy Mirzah serving as lookout sentry inside
the truck’s cab … clean, slick away with it. Ex – Husband Herry took,
aprovechar – style and criminally, whilst demonstrating for both of my
teenaged sons then, how it is that men, just whenever and wherever they
wanna, … can … simply take from women. From multiple women. “Because
He Can.”
We all know this, do we not, Jury? Because he
can. “These are mere women, conscious these two happen to be and not
anesthetized,” Corrupt Herry reckoned, “but females, none the less. How
utterly UNimportant … DEhumans are! And to her Boys, Jesse and Mirzah,
as well! I will demonstrate these very same thinkings and doings,
these comings and goings about women to them, too! And absolutely
looooove doing so!”
Noooo different. The very same
this is as … the two, elder boys who ‘helped’ their daddee, Ghorban –
Ali Manutchehri, murder stoned – to – death Soraya, their very own ––
and siblings’ –– birthing mama. Not a human being … she; their laws so
state, the laws the men themselves “make” –– particularly as any of
these, on the whole of them all, pertain in any way to us DEhumans’
general slutlery. Remember, Jury, that so common Arab maxim regarding
the insatiability of graves, deserts and, of course, all … cunts? The
males? The men and the boys? They are … The Human Beings. And … The
Only Human Beings.
Just exactly how UNimportant is …
specifically … the one DEhuman, Dr. True? Whose first name, Legion, is
never to be Edinsmaier – uttered?! –– Ever?!
Consider
–– yet again! –– that I had admonished us all, hadn’t I Jury, from
deeeeep within Chapter 28, to be certain to so nota bene the following
phraseology out of Herry – Daddee’s 02 July 1994, quite queer letter –
thingy mailed to me?! That grammatically incorrect missive, displaying
its stupendously stupid sentence structure, which had been sent to me,
the woman whom all of DaMen of ‘the Court’, an American court –– it
needs to be marked, remarked and so, so … well – remembered, an American
court! –– had ascribed as the Crazed and Whoring Mother –––– yet, as
well, to whom Herry – Daddee, that flouncing and professedly accountable
father!, suddenly and right then so very, very soon after Jesse’s
release from hospitalization at the Blue Hazelnut Ridge, had decided to
entrust to lovingly and correctly shepherd one minor teen, Jesse, with
as well in such a short, short span of time thereafter another, second
one, Mirzah?!
“#8. Should … any matter arise … which
we cannot settle under the terms of this agreement, … we both agree … to
immediately return to the present arrangement as set forth by the
existing divorce decree with modifications,” yada, yada, yada and so
forth.” Signed, “Sincerely, Herod Edinsmaier” …
Only
it is most clear, isn’t it Jury, that i) from Mirzah’s one wee,
apparently whining telephone call back to Daddee – Herry when the Evil –
Mother Monster quite torqued him off some –– “she pissed off daMan” (as
with Ms. Soraya’s sons, Mirzah equaling this particular male this
particular time) and ii) from Jesse’s desiring for himself Legion True’s
guns back in West Virginian woods, it is most clear, isn’t it, that
none –– utterly none–– of Proviso #8 had to its “declaration” any
“sincerity” or any Truth … WHATSOEVER?!
Because it did
not have to. Whether inside a courtroom with daMen’s status as “under
oath” there or with their promising or their avowing –– or even with
their “evidence” – and witness – wowing there! True it is. O, so head –
bangingly true it is: Depending upon who you are, it is easier to lie
to and deceive anyone inside an American civil court of law and get
clean, slick away with it than it is to lie to and deceive one’s own mom
and dad. It is easier to lie to and deceive an American civil court of
law, which, we all know from long back within Chapter Eight, is a judge
or nearly an entire state’s district and appellate court system’s worth
of them! –– circa 23 or so of them! than it is to lie to and deceive
your own minister, your own teacher, your boss and co – workers, your
spouse or even all three of your own children. It is, mind you, easier
to get clean, slick away with lying to and deceiving an American civil
court judge about anything, depending, of course, upon who you are, than
it is to lie to and deceive yourself, Corrupt Herry!
Or
outside of one. Outside courtrooms. As with Liar Herry’s mid – 1994
letter to me regarding “our both agreeing” if “any matter arises.”
“Heh. Heh. Heh, Woman!” I am yet again! reminding my own brainy self.
“These are men making ‘the rules’, the ‘laws.’ And no amount of, no
accounting of Flip / Reverse as to how these same men would feel or as
to how the humans would like the trashing and the smashing, the utter
mucking up of their Constitutional rights to, O say, … breathing … if
the DEhumans’ mother – fucking –– if, O say, father – fucking –– is
visited down upon them … matters … squat at all to them!”
"I
ask, Jury, only one thing about the aprovechar – absconsion of my Boys
and of my tools and guns, about this home – invasion crime, on all of
this one particular day’s worth of mother – fucking –––– all of it
perped by Hosing Herry, the Pillared Dr. Herod Edinsmaier, against Lynda
Kincaid and against me, Dr. Legion True, as well as against all three
of my Truemaier Boys,
… … the fucking outrage?! Where is the OUTRAGE?!" "
--- Chapter 29 - excerpt of pp 502 - 505 from
Mother - Fucking, the Saga of One Fucked Mother
