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Ku Krux Klan

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the loathometer readings are pretty high for the KKK people
well, if you work as hard as Barb's done at driving their loathometers well up into the danger zone,
they're going to act loathsome! :devil:
 
well, if you work as hard as Barb's done at driving their loathometers well up into the danger zone,
they're going to act loathsome! :devil:

tn_03.jpg I really didn't work very hard at it at all ... insolence and rebelliousness just come naturally to me ... :rolleyes:

Took a break today, next episode ... the hanging of three of my "freedom rider" friends at high noon ... should be ready by tomorrow ...

hang 201.jpg I will personally get my just rewards, along with my other three "friends", at the hands of the "loathsome" in a later episode ...
 
I really didn't work very hard at it at all ... insolence and rebelliousness just come naturally to me ... :rolleyes:

Took a break today, next episode ... the hanging of three of my "freedom rider" friends at high noon ... should be ready by tomorrow ...

I will personally get my just rewards, along with my other three "friends", at the hands of the "loathsome" in a later episode ...
I would like to say I am sorry that Barb is going to meet her end but her incessant complaining about her rights being violated and escaping naked so she could flaut her body before good people of the South makes pity for her hard to come by...

'T-Rex' Herman Tree
 
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I would like to say I am sorry that Barb is going to meet her end but her incessant complaining about her rights being violated and escaping naked so she could fault her body before good people of the South makes pity for her hard to come by...

'T-Rex' Herman Tree

d2e31b4facf01fd90933ee052f272b4c1.jpg Otherwise known as the Grand Dragon?
 
Blimey! :eek:

They do have rough politics on the other side of the pond, don't they, Eul? :eek:

Rough politics, you say? You missed last night's Republican debate ... so many idiots calling each other names on one stage ... what a sorry spectacle. Ducking now, before THT sees this post :peep:
 
Rough politics, you say? You missed last night's Republican debate ... so many idiots calling each other names on one stage ... what a sorry spectacle. Ducking now, before THT sees this post :peep:
Au contraire, it's been all over the British media. Came straight to mind as I observed this exchange, but I won't say who reminded me of who.... :rolleyes:
 
Rough politics, you say? You missed last night's Republican debate ... so many idiots calling each other names on one stage ... what a sorry spectacle. Ducking now, before THT sees this post :peep:
Au contraire, it's been all over the British media. Came straight to mind as I observed this exchange, but I won't say who reminded me of who.... :rolleyes:
Tree is a mere student of politics. I will respond on my 'conversation' PM thread. If anyone wants to join they can be added...
 
Rough politics, you say? You missed last night's Republican debate ... so many idiots calling each other names on one stage ... what a sorry spectacle. Ducking now, before THT sees this post :peep:

Funny thing is, they'll spend a year of character assassination like this in these endless debates, slinging mud left and right, pointing out every flaw. Then when they choose a candidate they'll be all lovey dovey and tell us how wonderful this person is. Weird :confused:
 
Great story Barb. haven't been in touch directly but heard from Eul you were thinking of doing some for my pics, hope to hear from you and Sis on the writers for Damian thread! xxx
 
14. High noon. The work details have returned to Crux Hill Correctional Farm, but rather than proceeding directly to the mess hall the prisoners have been drawn up in neat ranks on the parade ground ... everyone facing the gallows, women on the left, men on the right.

tumblr_mrf2b1gIBK1s71ja2o1_1280.jpg They lead me out across the parade ground, passing between the ranks, positioning me out front of everyone at the very foot of the scaffold, Clem at my side, holding my arm in his iron grip, a fellow guide close by. I am naked, and in shackles.

Three hooded executioners wait above on the scaffold as my three "freedom rider" friends ... condemned to die for allegedly helping me escape from the "Farm" last night ... are led up the steps on the right side. They are naked, wrists bound tightly behind their backs.

The executioners take charge of the condemned as they arrive, positioning each of them over one of the three hinged trapdoors in the scaffold decking, slipping nooses over their heads, and tightening the nooses near their left ears.

I have never witnessed a hanging. I watch the preparations with morbid fascination, but also with gut-wrenching guilt and a gnawing sense of regret. These our my "freedom rider" friends, girls who left their quiet and secure college campus life and joined in the cause of combating racial injustice with a commitment as deep as my own.

I feel guilt over how my own rebellious impetuousness has put them up on that scaffold to die for me. They are innocent. I regret the fact that I never got to know them well. Sure, we rode the bus, sang songs, protested together, but I never really talked with them.

I turn to Clem and say, "You know they had nothing whatsoever to do with my escape last night. Executing them as accomplices just isn't right. Isn't there anything I can do or say to save them?"

"No, nothing. Warden says they must hang, as an object lesson to all prisoners."

"Even sweet, innocent Thessela over on the left?"

"No exceptions, Moore"

"But what about me?" And what about my other three friends?"

"I wouldn't be so quick to assume you have any friends here Moore. But to answer your question, you and the other three will die tonight."

"Why not now?"

"Two reasons. First, there are only three nooses up there AND second, a special "after dark" execution awaits you and the other three. Now, shut up and watch!"

The time has come. The girls on the stage know it. The fidget nervously, shifting their feet and twisting around nervously to look up at the long ropes that lead from the nooses around their necks up to the heavy gallows beam overhead.

One of the executioners passes in front of them, offering each a drag on his lit cigarette. He gets no takers, shrugs and nonchalantly walks over to the lever that releases the trap doors under their feet.

The moment has come. Tears run down cheeks. The one on the right, who had spoken to me so harshly in the cellar, begins to blubber and beg for mercy. The one in the center, stares straight ahead, a tear running down her cheek. Thessela opens her mouth to bravely declare. "We have no choice, but we shall overco.......awrkkkkk."

The trap doors fall open with a snap and a bang and all three plummet through, but their drop is abruptly cut short by a lack of slack in the suspending ropes.

kkk 019.jpg I watch in horror as they dance the slow dance of death, silhouetted high above me against a bright blue Mississippi midday sky.

Their movements are desperately frantic. They kick, twist and jerk about wildly. Sometimes they move their legs like they are running a race; at times they rest and hang limply, only to resume their desperate struggles once again.

They bump against one another. Their breasts and ass cheeks shake and quiver with each frantic move. For a while the one in the middle locks her legs around poor Thessela and tries to leverage herself up to relieve the pressure on her neck.

Gradually the girls weaken. Sweat sheens their nude panting bodies, their faces contort and redden. All movement finally ceases, as one by one they give up the struggle and three still bodies slowly twirl at the end of their ropes.

The smell of pee and excrement drifts slowly in the heated still air. I wretch, close my eyes tight, and hang my head.

The warden appears, struts across the scaffold, pokes at each corpse with his little riding crop. Satisfied he turns, comes to attention facing the silently cowed prisoners on the parade ground below, and bellows, "Dismissed."

The ranks dissolve, though few head for the mess hall.

"Come with me Moore," says Clem, tugging at my arm, "it's back to the cellar for you until dark."

TO BE CONTINUED
 
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Funny thing is, they'll spend a year of character assassination like this in these endless debates, slinging mud left and right, pointing out every flaw. Then when they choose a candidate they'll be all lovey dovey and tell us how wonderful this person is. Weird :confused:
It is sort of like dating... You try to fuck every girl you can then tell the women you many she is the only one that matters...

...of course after the honeymoon she starts having 'headaches'...

T:doh::doh::doh:
 
14. High noon. The work details have returned to Crux Hill Correctional Farm, but rather than proceeding directly to the mess hall the prisoners have been drawn up in neat ranks on the parade ground ... everyone facing the gallows, women on the left, men on the right.

View attachment 321031 They lead me out across the parade ground, passing between the ranks, positioning me out front of everyone at the very foot of the scaffold, Clem at my side, holding my arm in his iron grip, a fellow guide close by. I am naked, and in shackles.

Three hooded executioners wait above on the scaffold as my three "freedom rider" friends ... condemned to die for allegedly helping me escape from the "Farm" last night ... are led up the steps on the right side. They are naked, wrists bound tightly behind their backs.

The executioners take charge of the condemned as they arrive, positioning each of them over one of the three hinged trapdoors in the scaffold decking, slipping nooses over their heads, and tightening the nooses near their left ears.

I have never witnessed a hanging. I watch the preparations with morbid fascination, but also with gut-wrenching guilt and a gnawing sense of regret. These our my "freedom rider" friends, girls who left their quiet and secure college campus life and joined in the cause of combating racial injustice with a commitment as deep as my own.

I feel guilt over how my own rebellious impetuousness has put them up on that scaffold to die for me. They are innocent. I regret the fact that I never got to know them well. Sure, we rode the bus, sang songs, protested together, but I never really talked with them.

I turn to Clem and say, "You know they had nothing whatsoever to do with my escape last night. Executing them as accomplices just isn't right. Isn't there anything I can do or say to save them?"

"No, nothing. Warden says they must hang, as an object lesson to all prisoners."

"Even sweet, innocent Thessela over on the left?"

"No exceptions, Moore"

"But what about me?" And what about my other three friends?"

"I wouldn't be so quick to assume you have any friends here Moore. But to answer your question, you and the other three will die tonight."

"Why not now?"

"Two reasons. First, there are only three nooses up there AND second, a special "after dark" execution awaits you and the other three. Now, shut up and watch!"

The time has come. The girls on the stage know it. The fidget nervously, shifting their feet and twisting around nervously to look up at the long ropes that lead from the nooses around their necks up to the heavy gallows beam overhead.

One of the executioners passes in front of them, offering each a drag on his lit cigarette. He gets no takers, shrugs and nonchalantly walks over to the lever that releases the trap doors under their feet.

The moment has come. Tears run down cheeks. The one on the right, who had spoken to me so harshly in the cellar, begins to blubber and beg for mercy. The one in the center, stares straight ahead, a tear running down her cheek. Thessela opens her mouth to bravely declare. "We have no choice, but we shall overco.......awrkkkkk."

The trap doors fall open with a snap and a bang and all three plummet through, but their drop is abruptly cut short by a lack of slack in the suspending ropes.

View attachment 321030 I watch in horror as they dance the slow dance of death, silhouetted high above me against a bright blue Mississippi midday sky.

Their movements are desperately frantic. They kick, twist and jerk about wildly. Sometimes they move their legs like they are running a race; at times they rest and hang limply, only to resume their desperate struggles once again.

They bump against one another. Their breasts and ass cheeks shake and quiver with each frantic move. For a while the one in the middle locks her legs around poor Thessela and tries to leverage herself up to relieve the pressure on her neck.

Gradually the girls weaken. Sweat sheens their nude panting bodies, their faces contort and redden. All movement finally ceases, as one by one they give up the struggle and three still bodies slowly twirl at the end of their ropes.

The smell of pee and excrement drifts slowly in the heated still air. I wretch, close my eyes tight, and hang my head.

The warden appears, struts across the scaffold, pokes at each corpse with his little riding crop. Satisfied he turns, comes to attention facing the silently cowed prisoners on the parade ground below, and bellows, "Dismissed."

The ranks dissolve, though few head for the mess hall.

"Come with me Moore," says Clem, tugging at my arm, "it's back to the cellar for you until dark."

TO BE CONTINUED
Somewhere in the sweltering heat in the middle of Mississippi a phone is ringing.
d1.jpg
On the line is Mrs. Cassandra Moore, a socialite from what decades later would be known as a 'blue state' and mother of Barbara Moore. She fidgets waiting for her nephew Thomas 'Teddy' Hickory Tree to answer.
phone 001.jpg
In 1961 there is no 'caller ID' or voice-messaging let alone texting (like that would have mattered). She says to herself 'come on you imbecile, pick up the damn phone! Your cousin is in big trouble... I just know it!"

Unfortunately 'Teddy' was at a remote moonshiner's still picking up 'supplies' for some big thing happening that night!!!:eek:

Tree
 
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