Who's Watching Who? by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview

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Chicago

Chicago holiday crowds rocked by teen violence as mayor responds

How does a city joyously celebrate holiday traditions in the face of the sudden shock of youth gun violence on its busiest streets? That has been the question confronting Chicago this past weekend as a night meant for festive lights and family gatherings unraveled with scenes of chaos and grievance.

Within a few hours of the city's official Christmas Tree Lighting Ceremony in Millennium Park, on Friday evening, two separate shootings broke out in the Loop. The first incident occurred near the Chicago Theater on North State Street and injured seven teenagers between the ages of 13 and 17. Officers on routine patrol heard gunfire and saw a large group scatter, with bystanders running for cover. Most of the injured teens were treated at local hospitals and are expected to recover.

The tragedy has renewed calls for both stronger enforcement of curfews and expanded youth programming. Some city leaders, such as Ald. Brian Hopkins, have pushed for "snap curfews" to quickly disperse unruly gatherings, while others emphasize the need for prevention through safe spaces and job opportunities. Johnson has resisted measures he believes could infringe on rights,

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instead urging investment in programs that engage young people constructively.

For residents who are unsettled by such violence, experts recommend grounding routines and community connections. According to the National Child Traumatic Stress Network, consistent support, clear communication, and availability to safe environments help youth who have been exposed to community trauma. Parents are encouraged to openly discuss events, validate feelings, and connect children to trusted mentors or programs.

The holiday season should be a time of cheer in Chicago, but city officials now have the unwelcome task of balancing safety with the spirit of the season. Armani Floyd’s tragic death only serves as a stark reminder of just how urgent that mission is-and how it needs every entity in the community to play its part in safeguarding young people.

This Chicago crap is really quickly getting to be a very old story. B&B Mayor “Let’s Go Brandon” continues to blame everyone else for his stupid, crime-supportive failures. That now has passed the White blame boundary into the area of B&B parents. Like all commie libtards he is quickly running out of other

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people’s money and other people to fault. If these “teens” feared any possible degree of punishment, this bullshit would be diminished, if not eliminated. End of story. What remains is only for the exodus of the decent people still in Chicago, for it to be totally comprised of violent bums and Brandon.

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It’s Dark Again

The sun has been under the horizon for thirty minutes now. Ranney is getting excited. The drab posturings of the libtard programmed domination of the net is pre-empted by a useful nothingness.

Time to go downtown and pop a few B&B’s. Ranney walks briskly. He doesn’t use a traceable car. He is really hot for it tonight, and rather than monkey with any foreplay, he is anxious to go right to the ATM machine, brandishing his Rolex.

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He doesn’t dawdle by the pond as he walks through the outskirts of the small neighborhood park where any follower would be obvious, donning his mask. He sees none and momentarily thinks; “This is an acquired taste.” He quickly buries that thought with its footnote of; “Ain’t no cause to wonder why. Whoopee, they’re all gonna die.”

He reached the ATM and rolled up his left Rolex sleeve; an item and area to which the B&B bums are irresistibly attracted. To add some appetizing sauce to the B&B bum delicacy he withdrew $500, and stood still to slowly count it.

It was too much for the grungy B&B posse which worked the ATM at night. Five surrounded him in a flash, and a few voices called out more or less at the same time; “Gibbs me dat,” the echo effect reminiscent of a 21st century disdained 1960’s psychedelic studio effect. “Incense and Peppermints” had to give way to “Gangsta’s Paradise.” It’s like when the grass and acid head trips gave way to the crack and booze, dirty body manifestations of the mid eighties.

Ranney was confused for a split second. He momentarily wasn’t sure who to give it to first. This worked out more or less well, as he dropped the twenties on the ground, and as the five B&B bums dived for it, he withdrew his gun and gave each of them a

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shot in the back of the head. The blasts had sufficient force to turn the bums on their back to expose the gaping exit wounds at the front of their more or less remaining faces. Ranney was pleased, but to be sure, and perhaps in search of a further thrill, he put another slug in each of the wide eyed, still bodies.

He admired his work to a fault. After all he was human. It was difficult for him to just leave the product of his late game art just lying there, where no one would appreciate it the way he did. But, he had to get out of there before some no-life-asshole with a cell phone movie maker took an interest. He took one last look, simultaneously praying to his God, and then walked briskly back the way he came, leaving the $500 “haul” with those who worshipped it; unable to try to retrieve it from the B&B bums who had contaminated it with their dirty touch.

He walked back home through the little park, removing his mask upon arrival. An old lighthearted song came to mind.

Itchycoo Park

Small Faces

Over bridge of sighs

To rest my eyes in shades of green

Under dreamin' spires

To Itchycoo Park, that's where I've been

What did you do there?

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I got high

What did you feel there?

Well I cried

But why the tears there?

I'll tell you why

It's all too beautiful

It's all too beautiful

It's all too beautiful

It's all too beautiful

I feel inclined to blow my mind

Get hung up feed the ducks with a bun

They all come out to groove about

Be nice and have fun in the sun

I'l tell you what I'll do (what will you do?)

I'd like to go there now with you

You can miss out school (won't that be cool)

Why go to learn the words of fools?

What will we do there?

We'll get high

What will we touch there?

We'll touch the sky

But why the tears then?

I'll tell you why

It's all too beautiful

It's all too beautiful

It's all too beautiful

It's all too beautiful

I feel inclined to blow my mind

Get hung up feed the ducks with a bun

They all come out to groove about

Be nice and have fun in the sun

It's all too beautiful

It's all too beautiful

It's all too beautiful

Ha!

It's all too beautiful

It's all too beautiful

It's all too beautiful

It's all too beautiful

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It's all too beautiful

It's all too beautiful

It's all too beautiful

Written by Steve Marriott and Ronnie Lane.