Closed Captioning for the Jive Impaired: Scarecrow & Mrs. King

Dear God,
41°46′47.23″N 87°38′41.2″W / 41.7797861°N 87.644778°W / 41.7797861; -87.644778

These are the coordinates for an area of Chicago's southside, where if the heat doesn't get you, the bullets will. The babies are getting killed while jumping rope. Sucking down freeze pops. In this land where fire hydrants serve as refugee centers for those escaping the unforgiving sun, I'm asking for your swift justice and mercy. There seems to be some confusion amongst your children. Instead of shooting marbles, people are shooting kids. Now lord, you know I'm not here to tell you what to do. I won't "meddle" as my mother used to say. I'm not a god fearing woman, rather a god loving woman. You know my heart, and it's broken right now. I'm not a prophet, but perhaps a shepard trying to lead a flock out of the killing fields. I've got my compass and rations of food, and I'm praying to survive the hunt. But I'm a bit misconfused. When did it go from Cain and Abel to a 5 year old boy accidentally murdering his twin brother with a hand gun? Jonah walked out the belly of the whale, the Hebrew Children from the fiery furnace, and didn't you deliver Daniel?

Despite your decrees and sacred laws, no one seems to be listening. So I'm going to ask that you allow
William Peter Blatey come help us perform an exorcism on all of Chicagoland. The Excorcist scared the hot steaming stool out of people. I'm no sociologist, but I'd be willing to bet that crime rates lowered when the novel and film came out. I think this author might know how to get the demon out of Chicago because gun control laws, politicians, and this NO SNITCH bullshit culture ain't working.

Hell I don't even think frogs and locusts will make these fools cease fire.

Oooh! I know! Perhaps we can call upon Rod Serling? Clearly we're living in The Outer Limits. There is no regard for human life in Chicagoland, and I am terrified for my friends, loved ones, and family. I'll make a deal with you. You send us an army that includes Stephen King, he will take stock of what's going on and then he will create a solution to stop the monsters! Me? My plan was a dud. I constructed and mounted a scarecrow, to ward off the evil birds, but it isn't working.

I talked to my brother yesterday. "What in the fuck is going on in Chicago??" I lamented. "They're killing kids--these little girls can't even jump double dutch... I mean shit, we usta play Duck Duck Goose, Red Light Green Light, do Pop Lockin Cheers all night (well until the street lights came on) without getting shot...Fuck fuck ass snot pussy dick blah blah I'm angry blah blah I live in Southern California and I'm a ghetto ex-pat so I have the right to cry foul! Ass mothafucka blah blah...member chic-o-sticks?...block club parties...curse curse lament...glad I don't live there anymore...I'll make Soul Plane 2 if I have to make money to get my people the fuck out of Chicago!... blah blah fuck cunt fuckwad curse curse curse..."

My brother, whose charming qualities include sarcasm and sardonic tones, let me get it all out. He listened quietly and patiently while I spewed my ex pat guilt ridden bullshit. You see, there are so many murders happening in Chicago right now, you may become a bit apathetic and turn away from the news and continue to munch on your macrobiotic gluten free salad. Tuesday night cousins Ariana Jones 7 years old and 8 year old Tanaja Stokes were outside jumping rope, when two gunmen on opened fire, fatally wounding Tanaja. "They killed an 8 year old girl," I said.

After a few moments he finally spoke "I heard those gunshots you know." And suddenly I my heart stopped. I mean, we all grew up hearing gunshots. But he heard those gunshots. My brother lives nearly a mile from where the execution happened. Can you imagine that cacophony of sound? How it travels through like a sonic boom and tears at your soul. When you are accustomed to hearing gunshots one of two things happen. You shrug it off and go on about you business OR you crack a joke and quickly get in your car. Unless its right in front of you, you just keep it moving. He said he recalled hearing the succession of rapid fire, and that something about it struck him in a way he couldn't articulate...these shots gave him pause. Then he kept it moving. A couple of hours later he saw the story on the 9 o'clock news and connected the dots. Those gunshots that he heard, were the bullets that struck those little girls.

So God, please round up Ogun, Shango, Kali, Lakshmi, Zeus, Aries, Poseidon, Venus and every other diety like they do in the DC comics Justice League and send us rescue.

In the meantime, I'll continue to channel the spirit of Rod Serling. He and I will smoke cigarettes and tap on this typewriter until we can figure out how to live life, here in the Twilight Zone.