<$BlogRSDURL$>

Thursday, June 08, 2006

news today, oh boy 

"Looks like I picked the wrong week to quit drinking." - Steve McCroskey

Not that I really tried all that hard. At the time it sure seemed like a good idea.
I'm not ready to make nice,
I'm not ready to back down,
I'm still mad as hell
And I don't have time
To go round and round and round
Yes, yes, I know. . . it's The Dixie Chicks

I quote them primarily in honor of my dear friend Bishop Groove, who if by chance is reading this stone-cold sober will wretch in disgust while intentionally forgetting that recently in a grassy 40 soaked haze I briefly convinced him that the album was worth buying because Rick Rubin produced it.

It was a very brief moment, but still. . . maybe next time.

None the less, the sentiment fits.

I am still mad as hell.

I don't even know where to begin. And that's just part of the fucking problem.

This morning while leaving for another day of teaching during the first week of summer school (ESY for the special educationally inclined), I stopped to check yesterday's mail. It was still fresh in the box.

A letter.

"A letter? In the mail? How shocking!" you are doubtlessly thinking to yourself right now, my dear reader. Well please spare me your fucking sarcasm 'cuz it's been about fifteen fucking hours and I'm still really not in the fucking mood.

It was from the State Board of Nursing Examiners (the BNE). It was about the fate of Ms. von Munchausen.

Wait. No.

I don't want to fucking do this. I don't want to think about it, and I don't want to write about it. I'm tired of feeling like I'm trying to slay a fucking windmill.

Or like I'm sounding like that one kid in the teen slasher films who knows about the killer but just sounds fucking crazy talking himself blue in the goddamned face trying to convince the other kids there's a psycho-crazy-assed killer outside.

But today's letter made it official. The System failed.

Government failed. It failed totally. It failed miserably. It failed most dispicably.

And it failed at it's most precious responsibility: protecting the children.

Yes, the children. You remember the children? You remember those same damn kids that the self-fellating politicians are always chattering on about saving, educating or protecting with each passage of their increasingly totalitarian and Draconion legislation.

I have long since lost faith in the regulatory and law enforcement agencies given the power and authority to put things right. They never found enough evidence of wrongdoing and outright fucking evil because despite press reports at the time, they neither really fucking looked nor asked those who saw. My screams for help fell on deaf ears.

The bastards.

But until this morning, one small glimmer of Hope remained, timidly standing on the edge of the Pandora's box that began this whole affair.

The BNE. The BNE will not fail us. They are quite hard-core. I have heard from other nurses that they are not to be trifled with. We know nurses whom they have stricken down for far far less offenses.

You may recall, my dear reader, that 2 fucking years ago, yes two fucking years, The Wife and I wrote a rather lengthy and highly detailed complaint outlining the crimes of Ms. von Munchausen against The Boy.

We sent it to the District Attorney. He is doubtlessly a good man, but in the interest of his legacy in his waning days, he chose to focus a large portion of his attention and his assets on catching the big fish apparently at the expense of some of the smaller ones.

So nothing happened. Even after my angry phone call. Ob-la-di, ob-la-da.

But the BNE, yes the BNE. They read, they called. They listened. There were meetings and subpeonas for records. There was a tone of guarded and cautious optimism in our cause.

Over the months the investigation more than doubled in size from our original complaints and involved literally tens of thousands of pages of documents on dozens of her victims, the children.

And quarterly, every three months since, I received a letter in the mail informing me that it was still a very active and ongoing investigation and I would be notified with the results at the end.

Well. . .

The results came today.

Fuck. Bitch. God Mother Fucking Damn.

The Bitch got off.

She got off with what a reassuring investigator described to a borderline irrational and quite angry caller this morning as the adult equivalent of something that "will go down on your Permanent Record".

Like that was a good thing.

Remedial Education? What the fuck is that? She has to take a fucking class!

And I am angry. And I am tired. And I am frustrated beyond words at the incompetence, ineptness, and inability of our governenment to do their damned fucking jobs.

And I fucking need for this to end.

But it won't end. It can't end because the memory of her nearly fatal attack on The Boy is still as fresh in my mind as though it happened yesterday. She gagged him with a suction catheter, a long narrow tube connected to a vacuum and literally sucked the air out of him until he stopped breathing. She hurt him. She hurt him bad. She hurt him with malice and cold-hearted reptilian intent. A few months prior to that she burned his arm with a curling iron and then lied to investigators and falsified documents to conceal her behavior. She has not been held accountable for her crimes.

Justice delayed is Justice denied.

And it's been accruing interest for two fucking years.

It is now 100% official that in the eyes of The Man this case is closed.

No, damn it no! It is not closed, but what options remain? I do not know. I am disheartened.

The Man is a Rotten Bastard.

And The Bitch, well. . . she can eternally fuck off.

As always, now and forever. . .

All for the love of The Boy.

|
Comments: Post a Comment

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?

Weblog Commenting and Trackback by HaloScan.com