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Temporary Sanity
John Allen Muhammad temporarily lapsed
into temporary sanity today, and fired himself as attorney. "I am totally
inept," he complained. "I certainly deserve better representation than I am
able to give me."
John Allen Muhammad agreed with this
assessment. "Look at the facts. John Allen Muhammad may have killed a dozen
people, and terrified an entire region with his so called sniper shootings,
but John Allen Muhammad is not able to get half the press coverage that Kobe
Bryant is getting. That gentleman never killed anyone."
John Allen Muhammad then turned and
smiled. "Or did he?"
"What is the truth?" queried John Allen
Muhammad. "Well, let me give you an example. A small round example. It's
kind of like this. If I say I don't like basketball, that's my opinion. I
don't like basketball. You got a problem with that? It's the truth. But if
Kobe Bryant come along and say, I like basketball, then in actuality what he
just said is what I said, but it's not the whole truth of what I said. He
left something out. Therefore, it cannot be considered the truth. It's a
lie. Because I don't like basketball - I love basketball. See the
difference. So you see how the truth becomes a lie."
"That's exactly right," replied John Allen
Muhammad. "I love basketball too. Almost as much as my favorite daughter
Taalibah loves chocolate cookies."
"Oh that's a good story," said John Allen
Muhammad. "Tell the story about the chocolate cookies. It illuminates the
fine line between truth and illusion. It's a very good story, because it's
the truth, even though it's about a perceived untruth, otherwise known as a
lie."
"Well, Taalibah, she loves chocolate cookies.
As I was leaving one day, going somewhere - but where you do not know with
any certainty - she said, "Daddy, can I have some chocolate cookies?" and I
said, "Sure. I come back, we'll go to the store, and we'll get some
chocolate cookies, but don't go in the cookie jar and get no chocolate
cookies until I come back." She said, "I won't, Daddy. I won't."
"Uh oh, I know what's coming next, sure as my
name is John Allen Muhammad."
"So I leave. I come back about an hour later.
I see my baby daughter out in the yard with cookies in her hands and eating
chocolate cookies."
"Bet you whipped her ass, didn't you John?"
"You don't know if I whipped her ass. You
never saw me whip her ass. Anyway, I am upset now because from what I see,
she disobeyed. I got the evidence in her hand. I got her eating cookies. I
even got her sister saying she saw her going in the cookie jar; so I'm very
upset now because my baby daughter have lied to me. That's what I am
thinking, . . . and she starts hiding the cookies. That is more proof. She
is being deceiving now, so I tell her I want to see her in the house."
"Is that where you whipped her ass, John? May I call you
John? I guess I am you. But maybe not. Who can say?"
"Well John, in truth, you are a very sorry representation
of me. You don't recognize the truth when it kicks you in the nuts, do you?"
"Fuck you! Strike that remark."
"Well, fuck you too. You're just not good enough. Moron."
"Oh man."
Can't deal with it. Can't deal with it. Can't deal with
it.
"Well, You're fired. You can't judge me."
"No, you're fired. You sniping asshole."
"I quit!"
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