Rss

Archives for : Reign

It’s Been A Long Time… I Shouldn’a Left You…

I promise, I only left because… because… let me do this right. 

I’d love to say that I left because our Ruthless Leader decided to take a different path, but that would be a lie; I was mostly MIA quite a while before that happened. Y’all know I’m not much for lies, duplicity, or feigning optimism, so I’m going to apologize in advance if I shatter any false ideas you’ve cultivated over the years. The simple version is that I was pulling my life together. Unfortunately, the simple version never quite does it for me, so here we go:

I was busy being depressed. I couldn’t keep telling you to “Do More. Require Better.” when I barely wanted to do anything at all. I’ve been open about my depression, specifically because of what I believe to be my 50 percent, but I haven’t been open about how useless and ineffective the proverbial voices in my head tell me my writing is. I recognize that maybe once upon a time I had a legitimate following  before I started slipping. I also understand, or believe, that in all things, there must be balance. My depression makes it so I can’t see how anything I do means anything. Regardless of my efforts, there will still be pain, suffering, malice, disease, famine, poverty, discord, racism, sexism, and all other forms of unpleasantness. I was left asking “What is any of this for?” The only logical answer I could find: “Naught.”

So what’s a Reign O’Change to do?  I certainly couldn’t keep writing things I no longer believed. There was no Change on the horizon. I was incapable of believing that Justice would actually prevail. Thus, I stopped. It really wasn’t a conscious decision. I kept thinking, “I’ll come back to this one…” or “this issue doesn’t need my voice…” and “Do I really want be one more person blogging about Donamir Trutin’s ineptitude?” Lots of things to write about, but no drive to lend my energy to what seemed like yet another unwinnable battle.

So why are we here today? We’re here because I lost a friend. He’s still very much alive. He’s just not invited to the table anymore. Now, let me be clear: this young man literally came to the cookout. He brought deviled eggs and they were delicious. He tried to teach me how to play HALO. I promoted his craft as a Tattoo Artist. I defended him in public forum against an overzealous supervisor. So when I tell you “I lost a friend.” I mean I lost someone who I thought would be a permanent resident in the complex place that is my heart. How? It all started because of this story I shared on Facebook.

Truth be told, I didn’t even read the article. I figured the least I could do was continue conversing about things Requiring conversation. It’s yet another example of Hollywood deciding that Brown people are better represented by artificially tanned white people.  #RepresentationMatters is a battle cry for those of us who remain unseen and misrepresented by the media. How was I supposed to know it would devolve into “a friend” accusing me of hating white people. If anyone had told me that he would conclude that I was one step away from being a terrorist, I’d have laughed them to scorn. We had Jon Snowed our way through our friendship: we knew nothing about each other.

In my anger, I wrote this entire post, and in doing so, I realized that I needed to come back. That should’ve been–and might still end up being–an addition to The Letter Series. It could’ve been a head-first dive into Decorum Deficiency Disorder. I would’ve gotten so many more hits and shares if only I hadn’t forgotten the purpose of my mission.

#DoMoreRequireBetter is about me doing my #50percent more often and better. So, here’s how this is going to work: I’m back. I’m not mincing words, holding hands, faking the funk, or coddling Anyone. I won’t promise to be here every week, but I’ll be here with all the passion and vigor I can muster… because the conversations still need to be had. We will #RESIST and continue #NotBackingDown because the Cheeto in Chief has earned my wrath. In short: I’m here to Do More & Require Better.

And now we come to…the end of an era

Today, oddly enough was supposed to be the pay off FINALLY for a number of posts about relationships that I thought might be better than all my previous ruthless on relationships post. And indeed I’ll get to that later.

 

Instead,

Today is a day I bring us to a place I knew could happen, but was happy every time it didn’t. Today we end the hour for the last time. What do I mean? Today is the beginning of a goodbye party. For this blog. Oh it will continue to exist, but a transition is afoot. And so with all transitions, some things remain the same, while other change or are left behind.

If you would have told me 3 years ago as I was studying for the bar that we would be here I would be shocked. But if you would have told me that we would get here after 450 thousand views I’d also be shocked so much attention happened. Words Don’t Do It Justice started as an idea, a bit of fun, and a lot of me. I have buried hatchets with enemies because of this blog, reconnected with old friends, and made new ones because of this blog, found meaning in the midst of my own personal depression because of this place. I have consumed it, and let it consume me. I love it. But loving this blog means knowing what to do. And taking a good long look I know the thing to do is let it go.

But I said this was transition not destruction.

And indeed it is. I’ll be taking Words Don’t Do It Justice away from our blogging past into a show based future. For me, the question was one of logistics. Was it better to end everything and walk away from these years of effort, or find a way to keep the place alive in the hearts of all of you who have supported us? I choose to believe that you will keep supporting us, and I chose to keep this place alive in a new way.

That means giving you what we planned. Give No Quarter, The Wrath of Ruthless, and Words Don’t Do It Justice are the three pillars of Ruthless Radio. 3 shows with different formats that bring you many of the topics you might see written about here, but in a new form and with some new and old faces/voices. Over the next few weeks as we ready to for the relaunch of Words Don’t Do It Justice as a podcast, you’ll get to read some farewells from various alums, and hear from the incoming folks for these shows. You’ll also see the Words Don’t Do It Justice site itself undergo various changes. With plenty of hard work, luck, and you listening in, I hope to earn your trust for these new shows, and continue to hold our interest.

SO! What about Weekend’s Don’t Do It Justice?

Well I’m happy to say our little casual interest site is growing well. And it is going to continue. We had a nice response to the sample chapter from Project 13, and now that game of thrones is done you’ll see a lot of other reviews, news, and related content there. Our gamers are doing their thing, and if Vantinel’s CEO appearance is any indication of commitment, we will only continue to grow over there.

As I end for now I just want to say thank you, and of course to keep watching what we do. But more than that, thank you for being a force for us. We continued to push because you were there with us. 100,000 visitors, 450,000 views, and 3 years of growth, While things must change, I am glad to have made it to this point. A point that let’s me look back and say that YOU made us more than I imagined. And though Words Don’t Do It Justice…Thank you.

 

“THE Ruthless Wonder” Matthew Elisha Williams

Founder of Words Don’t Do It Justice

Manly Men are B*tches

Good DaddyI’m a girl. I’m a lady. I am a woman. I am strong and delicate, fierce and gentle. I get to be both. Unfortunately, the world demands that men… that our boys choose a side. What it means to be manly… just one more thing I don’t have any business really speaking on. There’s a lot out there about the messages we send to little girls, and make no mistake, that’s important, but not what this here is about. I need to talk about men, how we raise men, how we program boys, and how important it is that we make some real changes if we’re going to make moves in the right direction for all of our futures.

Sometimes I don’t know what’s more damaging: I understand the importance of teaching boys to be Suck it Upstrong, but for some reason, it’s like they’re not allowed to be balanced. Why are any displays of non-aggressive emotion considered weak? I’d ask why Any indication of weakness is automatically considered feminine, but that’s not what this is about. We raise boys to hold everything in, hide their true feelings, and show only a supposedly manly variety of strength, but expect men to be honest, caring, and sensitive as lovers, compliant, subservient, and malleable as employees, and then be tender, gentle, and patient as fathers… all while maintaining an impermeable armor of masculine strength. Then we wonder why they die younger, are more susceptible to violent outbursts, and more likely to go on killing sprees that end in their own death.

Pink OnsieThe pressure to be manly men starts when they’re born. The suggestion the dressing a baby boy in supposedly girly colors–colors they haven’t even learned to recognize–will somehow make him gay. The assertion that letting a boy play with girls weakens him. The idea that boys have to “toughen up” and can’t cry. In my conversations with guys and gals about what makes a man manly often has more to do with what he does than who he is. Does he work? Does he spend time with his family? Does he act like a man? I honestly don’t really know what that means: “act like a man.” As a matter of fact, it doesn’t seem like most other people really know what it means either. How is it then, that we expect our boys to grow into strong men when we can’t even come up with a definitive answer for what it means to be one?

I think the idea of manliness that we’ve been shoving down our boys throats is Abuseactually feeding a bitch-made mentality. When I say bitch, I don’t mean anything feminine. I mean that we have been raising boys hoping for men, and instead ending up with bitches. They’re over sensitive, homophobic, and moody. Unfortunately, because they’ve been conditioned to hold all of their emotions in, they’re prone to spontaneous combustion. They have a tendency to interpret everything as attacks against their manhood. Of course these are very general statements, and I know that #notallmen are like this. Unfortunately, we’re living in a social climate where everything is taken personally and indifferently at the same time. Every conversation is an opportunity to get defensive or accuse someone of being oversensitive. Even when trying to address and fix these kinds of social problems, we run into this–as the kids would say–bitch-made mentality that makes it impossible to make progress. Here’s my attempt…

A man’s manhood cannot be measured by how many women he beds, hours worked, or dollars spent on material things. Manhood cannot be challenged by anything, if the man in question is truly a man. A an who knows his position, knows his worth, and is fully secure in his manhood does not allow trivialities to diminish his manly swag. A man is honorable, kind, and diligent in all of his undertakings. He keeps his word and is sure to mirror his words with his deeds. He knows his strengths, and does not allow his weaknesses to define him. He understands the importance of partnerships, team work, and family. He works hard, and plays hard. He is balanced. He most certainly strives to Do More & Require Better.

Decorum Deficiency Disorder: Respect. Respeck. R-E-S-P-E-C-T – Have Some

Respect. I have no idea what happened to make Birdman demand “respeck” on his name and I’m not going to go looking to find out. I honestly don’t care. What I do care about is that someone requiring others to show them respect has been made into a joke. I imagine it’s because of the way he said it, or maybe because of who he is. In either case, I think it’s about time someone said something constructive.

I Require Respect. I demand Respect. I command respect. Not because I’ve earned it, because how would anyone who doesn’t know me know what I’ve earned? Not because of my age; because I look young as fuck. Not because of my degrees; because I required respect before I had them. Not because I’m a “strong Black woman;” because Blackness nor womanhood are prerequisites for deserving respect. No; I require respect specifically because you don’t know me, don’t know my struggle, and if you did, you’d know I earned it and I wouldn’t have to explain anyway. When Aretha Franklin sang the song, I imagine she was thinking about some dude who tried to dull her shine with his dick in his hand and oral diarrhea so he was talking out the side of his neck. In my experience, people test people’s limits. Sometimes you can just look at someone and know exactly how far you can’t push them. Apparently, I’m the kind of person who you assume has a short limit, get to know and find the limit isn’t where you thought it was, then have to spend the rest of your relationship with me trying to figure out the limits of my Equalizer of Tolerance. For some reason, even when I am clear about what I will and will not tolerate, people still feel the need to test me. I imagine Aretha and Birdman were being tested, and had to remind people to put some respeck on it.

I don’t think disrespect is a laughing matter. Where I come from, disrespect is grounds for consequences and repercussions of the violent variety. Even at home, any form of disrespect was met with harsh unpleasantness. My last ass whoppin was random and unprovoked because my mother wanted to make sure I knew “which side of my bread was buttered.” It was a preemptive strike just in case I was thinking about disrespecting her. My very literal brain still can’t figure out what buttered bread was supposed to symbolize, but I knew better than to question her about it, in case she’d feel the need to reiterate her point. I know for a fact that most people from my generation and cultural background know exactly what respect is all about, and why a man demanding it is probably not something that should be laughed at.

Yesterday, someone implied that I wasn’t an actual person. He didn’t have a damn thing to say after I corrected him. I don’t expect he’ll have anything to say to me for a very long time. A few weeks ago, a former friend made several statements against my character while defining me as a demon after I explained why she was no longer worthy of my friendship. I might add that moniker to my title so people can have an idea of who they might meet if they catch me on a bad day, or worse, are the catalyst of one. I was commenting on a thread a few days ago that instead of telling little girls that the boys are mean because they like her, we should be teaching little boys how to be respectful and teaching little girls to command respect in turn. People disagreed saying that it shouldn’t be on the little girl at all. No, this isn’t a story time, this is just me providing examples to prove the importance I place on respect. So when I don’t laugh at Birdman’s demanding his name be sprinkled with respeck with everyone else, understand that it isn’t because I don’t have a sense of humor, it’s because I think people have forgotten how this shit is supposed to work.

Today’s atmosphere of thumb thugging, and the imaginary shield that the internet provides has people forgetting that there are limits and levels to this, and that crossing these lines–much like changing lanes out of turn–may cause death. Don’t think that kindness or patience are mandatory. If you receive either, consider yourself blessed, and act accordingly. Don’t take it for granted. Don’t think the the nice person won’t change clothes and get fist-ical. Just because someone knows that violence isn’t the answer, doesn’t mean it isn’t one of the multiple choice options.

Respect.

Do More. Require Better.

Story Time: Hood Mentality

It’s been a long time since I lived in the hood. Even when I lived in the hood, it wasn’t theG.Ma's House kind of hood that I had to look around and feel some kind of way about. I lived in an area of Brooklyn with mostly Caribbean home owners. They took pride in what was theirs; swept the sidewalks in front of their stoops, picked up litter and trash, made sure the block was clean after the garbage truck passed. The area I went to school in on the other hand was a different story. The common theme–the mentality–was “no one cares.” It’s the hood. It’s supposed to be dirty. People occasionally complained about how infrequently the garbage was collected or how the so-called street sweepers only wished the dirt around, but they never seemed to care enough to not drop trash on the ground in the first place.

I wish this was going to be one of those simple pieces where I point my finger at an issue, give a brief history lesson, and provide a clean solution. Unfortunately, this is one of those times where the issue goes so much deeper than simply “clean it up.” There’s something about the hood mentality that makes everything about being from the hood the kind of struggle that even hood people don’t really understand. It’s goes Aristotle and Kant deep. It’s knowing that the hood is set up to keep people down, thinking you’re beating the system because you’re “living well” in the hood, then seeing how people live outside the hood and having one of those #awkwardmomentwhen. It’s trying to describe how deep it is only to find that Words Don’t Do It Justice. Let’s see if I can put this into perspective.

ChevronI stopped for gas at a Chevron the other night. I knew I was in the hood, and as such I was appropriately cautious and carefully observed my surroundings. I was with friends, one of whom is an equally–if not more so–hood smart young man. He pumped the gas, I surveilled. There was a woman begging at the door to the convenience store and one or two other gas station patrons. What was I most bothered by? That all but 2 pumps were fully functional. It’s the hood. There are supposed to be poor people, drug addicts, and cantankerous arguing patrons. What I don’t accept is that a multi million dollar corporation would allow it’s gas pumps to remain in disrepair or be left empty for more than a few hours. East Point, GA is no less worthy of services than Buckhead. Corporations shouldn’t be allowed to treat their patrons differently just because of a zip code. I’ll go deeper.

When I mentioned that I was irritated, my friend assumed that it was because of the Homeless at Chevronbeggar by the door asking him for change repeatedly. I don’t think I explained then, but I’m not generally bothered by people begging. A closed mouth won’t get fed, whether what the body needs is a meal, a roof, or their favorite chemical alterant. I’d rather her be begging than out stealing or hurting herself for what she needs. I don’t know what circumstances lead her–or any other person–to that position, but it probably wasn’t part of their life’s plan. I have a hard time believing that anyone grows up striving to be homeless, a drug addict, or mentally ill. It happens, but I highly doubt that it was planned. I also wasn’t bothered by being in the hood. I come from a hood that probably isn’t very different from the hoods of Georgia, or any other hood for that matter. When I did explain that I was upset about the state of the gas station, his first reaction was to remind me that the hood mentality dictates that the people who live there don’t consider themselves to be worthy of “nice things.”

So here’s the thing: it’s hard to believe that you’re deserving of things like a fully functioning gas station when everything in the social construct tells you that because you didn’t get the good job you were told you’d get after college or after serving in whichever branch of the Armed Forces… because the job you did get barely pays enough to keep a roof over your head which also means your income is low and thus a you’re in a low tax bracket. Less tax contribution–by means of property taxes, not income–means less service (i.e. road maintenance, garbage collection, public school funding, etc.) The lesser services means the hood children don’t have access to the same standard of education that other children in more affluent neighborhoods do; larger class sizes taught by underpaid, stressed out, inattentive teachers… and even if the children get into college, the cycle often continues. But wait! There’s more. What happens to the kids who don’t make it into college? What happens to a child who has one or two working parents who are too busy trying to make ends meet and keep the utilities on? What happens to the kids who basically have to raise themselves because the adults in their lives are absent? What happens to the kid who only gets attention when they act out? What happens to the kid who gets convinced that his life isn’t valuable? What happens?

No one cares.

Do More. Require Better.

Happy 4/20! Yay Chemical Dependency

Happy 4/20!!! Let’s talk about drugs. It’s kind of hard for me to really talk about drugs from a fully informed point of view because I’ve never used them… not the illegal kinds anyway. So with that in mind, let’s put all the drugs in the same category: chemical alterants.D n' A We’ll define them as compounds or substances used to cause a change of state. By this definition, I hope you’ll understand that I mean to include liquor, antibiotics, and everything else we have become accustomed to using for good and bad purposes.

I want to be clear that I’m one of those crazy people that believe that all chemical alterants should be legal. There will be those who decide to try stuff, and they’ll probably be the same people who’d try them even now while they’re illegal. I think they should be taxed and used to generate productive revenue, as opposed to being used to criminalize people who are often participating in the economy the only way this system allows them to excel in. I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it again: the so-called “War on Drugs” has done more damage to this countries than allowing natural selection take its course ever could have. And since I’ve already told you all about how wonderful legalizing chemical alterants would be for the nation, I want to talk about the kinds of drugs I wish we would start moderating.

US of PharmaWhy is it that GMO foods don’t have to be labeled? Shouldn’t I get to decide if I want to eat chicken that has been injected and tampered with? Shouldn’t I get to decide if I want to eat apples that have been modified to be less attractive to insects? Why do corporations get to decide that I’m not intelligent enough to make my own decisions about what I eat and most important to them, what I spend my money on? I was having a conversation with a friend many months ago about how people would feel differently about GMO foods if they had a better grasp of science, how chemicals work, and how many of them actually occur in nature. My response: “Arsenic occurs naturally… as does lactose. I prefer to limit my intake of both.” Of course I said more, but this is the result of that conversation:
[soundcloud url=”https://api.soundcloud.com/tracks/242947106?secret_token=s-KwYZz” params=”auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_comments=false&show_user=true&show_reposts=false&visual=true” width=”100%” height=”100″ iframe=”true” /]

So if you listened to my mini rant/argument against GMOs, you’ll understand that I think our use of chemical alterants are diminishing our ability to evolve in a positive direction. Imagine how many more people would have died from polio if we hadn’t come up with the vaccine. Add to that the fact that  it has been argued that people are now being born immune to polio. How much longer would it have taken for us to evolve into polio immunity? How about the flu: how many different strains of the flu have there been? Is it just me or do they seem to be getting more resilient? Why do people still bother getting flu shots when there’s supposedly “no way” to tell if it’ll actually work against whichever flu virus is being spread this week, month, year? How many people run out and get an antibiotic every time they get sick and find themselves sick again after a few weeks of “getting over” a cold?

We’ve become a chemically dependent lot. Not just on pills that have loose bowels, cerebral hemorrhage, and death as side-effects, but on the antibiotics they put intoModified Corn our vegetables without telling us, the hormones they feed cows before they grind them into hamburger meat, and the high fructose corn syrup they think should be included in everything. Why would anyone want to take an antidepressant that will cause suicidal thoughts? Counterproductive much? People seem content believing that all they have to do is “say no to drugs” to stay chemically safe, but have become completely complacent about medicating their ADHD afflicted children into oblivious zombies. Jailing people for marijuana possession has become big business, meanwhile Wal-Mart has its own liquor store… but more people have died at the hands of drunk people and from alcohol poisoning than I’ve ever heard of dying from smoking a joint.

No War on DrugsI’m not the only one who sees it. There are meme’s all over the internet about the disparities. I’m just saying that on this 4/20, we should make sure they know that we’re paying attention. Well, we should actually start paying attention. Not just to the legalization of weed, but to the decriminalization of marijuana selling AND to the release of the people who have been imprisoned for possession and intent to sell/distribute. We should be paying attention to their willingness to medicate us into compliant obedience.

We should care that there are more medications that mask symptoms out there than there are cures for what plagues us. These things are important. Its not just about being a liberal animal loving tree hugger. This one is about wanting to make sure that we’re fighting for the right things for the right reasons. There’s a reason why they added the word “medical” on to marijuana. I’ve heard it described as medical grade marijuana as a selling point. Is it really stronger? Do they add extra stuff to it to make it safer? Or is it just so they can continue criminalizing all the street corner pharmacists? Why aren’t we more concerned about doctors who’d rather write a prescription than actually treat a patient; like really listen then properly diagnose and possibly cure whatever is ailing their patient? Why aren’t we criminalizing Pfizer, Norco, or Purdue for manufacturing, marketing, and selling chemical alterants that are addictive and actually cause death? Why do they get to pay a fine and keep doing business as usual? I’m sure some of you are out there looking at your pill bottles and medicine cabinets; feeling like you need to take another puff to save you from the anxiety attack that the thought of your favorite pill’s not being available to you will cause. Last time I checked marijuana grows everywhere. You can drink it, smoke it, put it in some brownie mix and bake it… I read somewhere that there are weed gummies. People have told me that they focus better with marijuana in their system. I can honestly say I’d rather give a kid with ADHD some gummies than a chemical cocktail that dulls their shine, their senses, and their creativity, and has the potential of delayed growth, sleep problems, and tics among other things… but that’s just me.

We don’t have to be chemical dependents. Our fruits, vegetables, meats and grains were good without chemical alteration. It has been argued that GMO foods could help end starvation in places where they have issues accessing food. If that’s want they’re striving for, why are the corporations Flicked jointhoarding the seeds? Why aren’t they letting starving nations with fertile farm land grow the food themselves? They gave some of the food away for free? Was that when people started getting sick and dropping dead of “unknown” causes? It’s like my mother says; “Piss on my head and tell me it’s raining.” Believe what you want folks, but *takes drag from imaginary joint* I’m not buying it. Don’t get me wrong, I have benefited from pharmaceuticals throughout my life. On the other hand, I have to acknowledge that there are some things that we shouldn’t be chemically altering. And until someone starts a company that can be trusted to put #AllLives ahead of profits, I’m going to keep shaking my fist and raising my voice on behalf of my personal interests…

… because #DoMoreRequireBetter

The Letter Series: Religious Bullies, Keep Your Jesus.

Let me start by saying that I do not claim any particular religious faith as my own, nor to I particularly approve of any organized religion. I wouldn’t consider myself to be an atheist, as even that requires an acceptance of theism that I am not willing to participate in. I don’t have anything against folks who have accepted a deity or follow a specific religious doctrine, Like Jesus Bull Shitit simply isn’t for me. Now that we have that out of the way, you’ll understand a little better why I’m particularly annoyed by folks who are religious insisting that scrolling passed a picture of Jesus will guarantee my seat in hell, or that clicking “Like” on a post will bring blessings unfathomable.

People, the last time I checked, Blessings, come from God, not clicks. Your daring me to scroll isn’t helping to improve my perspective as far as your religion is concerned. Neither is your challenging my love for Jesus. Guess what: while I think that if he existed he was a good man, I don’t accept him or any other man as my “Lord and Savior.” I don’t think my dressing a certain way will please or displease Allah, because if he’s as omnipotent as you want me to believe, he even sees me naked in the shower. There’s nothing about me, my thoughts, my feelings, and most importantly my beliefs that he doesn’t know without me having to anything. Thus, if he is omnipotent, I can scroll passed with Jesus as my savior, or click as a blaspheming sinner and be fine either way. That click, comment, or share isn’t about Jesus, it’s about you; its about making you and others like you feel better about your faith.

Dear Religious Bullies,

Here’s a thought: if your faith was as strong as you want people on social media to believe it is, you wouldn’t need support from social media… the same way I think God doesn’t need our support… wait, let me explain.

I believe that if the Gods (yes, all of them) do exist, their power waxes and wanes with the strength of the faith of their believers. So of course, if I am being honest, God doesn’t require our support, God requires believers. I imagine it’s like they’re all singing that song…

They need us to need them… because Gods forbid we find our way through this life… andTo Hell with Them apparently through social media without them. Gods forbid we learn to have faith in ourselves and each other. I grew up hearing “Si Dios quiere” from my elders at the end of almost every sentence. “I’ll see you tomorrow… if God allows.” “If God allows, you’ll have a good day.” God doesn’t like ugly. As if an omniscient being really sits around plotting, planning, and paying attention to our petty human Facebook posts. Or who we’re friends with. Or who we share our beds with. Or who we sell flowers to… who’s bathroom we use. There are people starving, wars being fought, and you religious types think using your twisted understanding of a book written by men to treat God’s other children with scorn. But I guess you only have to follow the teachings you like right? “Love thy neighbor” came with a footnote that explained all the times you didn’t have to love thy neighbor. Somewhere in The Book it says “If you don’t click Like and share, you’ll go to hell.”

You’re all bullies. You need to take the time to learn the teachings of your so-called Savior. Maybe then I’ll take your religions seriously… because you followers, you make me laugh with your feigned piety. Keep your Jesus. I think the “real” one would take issue with his name being used in vain… or something along those lines. In short

Do More. Require Better.

Indignantly defiant,

Reign