Anyway.....I saw this at David's site and well, it made me mad.
Before lawyers could begin opening statements Tuesday, the teens pleaded guilty to charges of aggravated assault and battery and second degree lynching.
South Carolina legally defines lynching as a mob attack against an individual where the victim survives.
These kids attack a boy because of the color of his skin and then think "I'm sorry" will make it all better?
Each of the defense attorneys asked for mercy, one calling his client a churchgoing boy who made a foolish mistake. Another attorney repeatedly referred to the incident as a fight.
You know when you're doing the crossword in red ink, and you misspell fjords but don't realize it until you are 2/3 of the way done the puzzle and completely screwed? That is a mistake. Here is another one:
Beating the shit out of someone because you are a racist pig does not make you a young, helpless innocent; it makes you a worthless piece of shit.
Speaking of worthless pieces of shit, my sister-in-law just discovered that her husband of 5 1/2 years has been engaging in some extra-curricular activities of the divorce-worthy kind. Which is terrible in itself, but made worse by the fact that he has left dear R to tend to his child while he does it. She came here for the new year, and brought the 9 year old because her father, T, had to work. Had to work turned into a quick 2 night trip to Seattle to see his buddy. See his buddy turned out to mean fuck his girlfriend while his wife tends to his kid at his in-law's house. Sadly enough, the only thing T seems to be less interested in than fidelity is parenting. He still wants R to watch his daughter. R loves the kid enough that I bet she will. Jerk.
One more thing. Monday marked 14 years since I've seen my mother, brother and sister. I will spare you the details, but on January 7th I was asked to leave her home with an astonishing bit of force, and January 9th I became a citizen of the Mile High City. I used to have a party every year to mark my "escape", but it seems the longer I am away, the less saddened I am by it and therefore feel less of a need to mark the occasion. Not that I don't remember every moment of those 2 days, because believe me I do. No one was sure I was going to get out alive. (Mom really doesn't like me) And between you & me...when no one's looking, and I don't have to be all tough and brave about it, I really miss her. Well, maybe not her so much, but the idea of having a mom. Something, anyway. I miss something. The last thing she ever said to me was, "You know you can never come back, right?" Well Pat, I never did. I never wanted to. Last year I spent that night at a bar, watching a boy I love play with his band, while standing next to his mother, father, sister and brother-in-law, drinking a beer, smoking way too many cigarettes, and feeling like I was right where I was supposed to be, with the people I am supposed to be with. I'll take that over a crazy mother any day.
I think that's all I've got for tonight. So I guess I'll stop typing.