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by Brent Kellogg
October 6, 2009

Let's hypothesize. You have everything you could ever need. Lots of love, good sex, non-toxic food, healthy teeth, a home, money, health care and kids who don't hate you. What would you do? Be happy? Or would you do what the rats who don't want for anything do?

Similar to lab mice put into a maze with all the conveniences a modern rodent could desire, at the far end of the maze, was a hallway with an electrified grate on the floor that led to another room the rats could not see otherwise. To get there, the rats would have to walk across a grate and suffer a painful jolt of electricity. Would happy rats do it when they want for nothing? Sure enough, one by one the rats began to sniff around the grate, and every single one chose to endure the pain of crossing over just to see what was on the other side.

So it must be when you've got mostly white people falling all over themselves worshipping the dead. To show that it's not a KKK rally, you get an old while man named Murphy to do the heavy work of arranging chairs while the young inject themselves with cholesterol via assorted fatty finger food and milkshakes loaded with sugar. Then you invite a black man - and his transplant of a son - to offset the unbalance and to make a really good impression allow the man to speak during which he praises the dead white girl going so far as to kowtow that Colleen Carlton was considered part of his family. See See, as she was known in her final daze on earth, and the black man's cancer-riddled daughter even went shopping together for wigs.

How nice to be rich when poor cancer patients must wear beanies to cover their bald heads or nothing at all. Yes dear white folks, deep in his heart the black man knows that Colleen will continue looking out for his baby girl. Given her assent to Heaven, Colleen may replace Cassie Newman as the angel of mercy flying high above. The way these people carried on it won't come as any surprise when the next time someone sneezes others will say, "Colleen bless you".

Nice to see too that someone was planning ahead. How young was Brad Carlton that he anticipated his early demise and had purchased a plot of land in a local cemetery where not only could his bones be placed to rot, but that when his daughter died her bones would go in the plot next to him! Brad did not, it would appear, buy a plot for his wife because he never knew from one year to the next who that would be or whether she might want to be cremated upon death.

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