He was a child molester

A serial child molester, who preyed upon the young with methodical premeditation. Sure, we all know and understand the mechanisms. Which transform a victim, to a victimizer. None the less, we never were able ... after the mask was ripped off. To listen to the music of the man again. We still do however keep a couple of albums of the youngster, Michael. Listening to the innocence, and enjoying those wonderful pipes.

All too often, in the pantheon of famous Hollywood shooting stars. They explode. Some ever so spectacularly in the night sky. Others never attaining much of a rise in their trajectory. Not leaving the horizon before shattering upon the earth. Having been chewed up and spit out, by their enormous fame and success. Leaving nothing but a bedraggled, drugged, demonic mess for Mephistopheles to claim. Entirely predictable. No one stepping in. Forcefully stopping the loading ... of the rocket's liquid fuel. Part and party to the launch. Queitly standing to the side, idly, hands in pocket. Or of course ... hands in the star's money making machine. While watching the emminent destruction, perhaps indifferently enabling it. Some merely caught up in the potent prideful hipness that comes with money, power, and illicit drug use.

A celebrated star, one that shone ever so bright so brilliant, is no more. A tragic, epic, yet timely stage play. From this story, we can pick up some of the small pieces. We can analyze the hallowed particles. Still see, still know that wrong doing must be stopped. Evil must be confronted. When self destruction obviously is near (if we care?). But more importantly, the safety of any potential victims.

The toady Barrack Hussein Obama, the lackey, the errand boy for the Muslim Brotherhood (and his growing army of retainers, handlers and enablers, who are complicit in the cover up of his crimes). We WILL stop him. We will turn him back. We will turn him out. If you think that I will remain silent, while he rapes America in the ass. Think again.