Sunday, June 15, 2008
John Kass can go fuck himself in his hater ass
As buoyant as my spirits have been since June 13th, 2008, when the American court system produced the greatest triumph in the history of criminal justice (Robert Sylvester Kelly's NOT GUILTY verdict on all 14 of the bullshit counts of child pornography he was charged with), I just read an article that really pissed me off. John Kass, a columnist at the Chicago Tribune, penned a craptastic piece of garbage today entitled "R. Kelly verdict adds to his lawyers' list of greatest hits."
Kass then goes on to suggest that the men on the jury were a bunch of misogynistic pigs who weren't thinking of their female family members when they concluded that reasonable doubt existed. Surely if they had any modicum of decency or respect for women, they would want to convict R. Kelly just because they should share John Kass's paranoia that a big scary black man like Kells might despoil their daughters.
After these baseless, idiotic claims providing nothing save the knowledge that John Kass considers Kells guilty even after being proven innocent, he then goes to provide even more damning evidence. In addition to the notorious media mogul-turned-mail fraud perpetrator Conrad Black and drunken Walgreen's trespasser Shia LaBoeuf, Kells's attorneys have represented mob bosses, assassins, and murdered informants. Surely with such an unsavory client list under their belts, R. Kelly's legal dream team must have represented only guilty people. Ergo, R. Kelly must be guilty too. John Kass really has to stretch to find whatever dubious circumstantial evidence he can rework into a suspicious context, even if it means suggesting that R. Kelly's right to a vigorous defense alone proves his culpability.
After wading through several paragraphs of self-congratulatory attempts at coming up with catchy Cochran-esque rhymes like "If the mole's not a zit, you must acquit" and "If you don't see a mole, you must take a stroll," John Kass immediately launches into a deeply flawed analysis of how R. Kelly--portrayed as a certainly guilty dirtbag--was acquitted thanks to his dirtbag lawyers, who have built careers on releasing also assuredly guilty dirtbag mob hitmen back onto the streets to terrorize the Windy City.
Chicago R&B star R. Kelly—who also calls himself "The Pied Piper"—was acquitted of child pornography charges because of a mole or the lack thereof on a grainy video.John Kass obviously doesn't put much stock in fact-checking, because not only does R. Kelly call himself "the Pied Piper OF R&B," the mole was not the central issue that decided this case for the jury. When the defense gave its closing arguments, they pointed out that the prosecution had failed to identify the girl in the sex tape. If you can't prove the identity of the alleged victim, then you can't prove her age, and you can't prove that the tape constitutes child pornography. The jury actually cited the prosecution's failure to establish the alleged victim's identity as the primary reason why they acquitted Kells after only seven hours of deliberation. John Kass either doesn't think very highly of his Tribune colleagues' accurate reporting of the trial, or is so simply determined to hate a player that he is willing to overlook the fact that while neither the girl or her parents testified in the trial, both denied that the alleged victim was the girl on the tape before a grand jury in 2002 and the alleged victim's family were deeply divided regarding whether or not she was the girl from the tape. He also ignores the fact that the prosecution's star witness, "the woman" he mentions involved in the "plethora of perversions" (threesomes on R. Kelly's Space Jam-themed indoor basketball court), was largely discredited by the defense for attempting to extort Kells into buying her silence and to get leniency for her fiance who was facing felony gun charges.
The mole or mole deficit was a big issue in the trial. A tape of purported sex acts and a plethora of perversions involved a minor, a woman, and a man prosecutors said was Kelly. Defense lawyers said it wasn't a mole on the tape, therefore, it wasn't their client.
John Kass gets worse. He then goes on to mock R. Kelly's art, and suggests that the melodic ambrosia better known as his next album will include songs gloating about his undeserved freedom and hoodwinking of the justice system:
But now that he has been acquitted, he'll probably release a new album, titled "Mole-ishus: Daddy's Home!" Apparently, he loves being called "Daddy," and because he's being hailed as In-no-¢ent, what better way to celebrate Kelly's freedom than with song?Again, John Kass, if you had bothered to do the quickest of Google searches you would know that his next album is actually called TP: Fourth Quarter, and the obviously sublime (if the first single "Hair Braider" is any indication) tracks for this most recent installment in Kells's seminal Twelve Play series have already been laid down in the Chocolate Factory. They probably don't have anything to do with his trial, except to possibly excoriate haters like John Kass who are unfairly persecuting R. Kelly via media trickery and legal shenanigans. Furthermore, while in some R. Kelly songs he does answer to the term "daddy," if the lyrics to "I'm a Flirt" can be considered a reliable exploration into Kells's preferred pillow talk terms, he also makes women call him by his actual name since after a tryst with him, they tend to slip up and call their significant others "Kelly" when their name is "Tommy." Furthermore, as long as he's mining R. Kelly songs for pro-child fucking themes, he could at least acknowledge lines like "show me some ID before we get too deep" which indicate that R. Kelly complies with laws defining the age of consent. John Kass thinks that he is so goddamned funny that his readers won't notice that he has no grounds for implying with that strategically placed "¢ent" that R. Kelly bought his freedom in spite of overwhelming evidence of his guilt. There IS no evidence, and that's why John Kass has to resort to using punctuation and bad parodies of the R-uh in R&B's lyrical genius.
Kass then goes on to suggest that the men on the jury were a bunch of misogynistic pigs who weren't thinking of their female family members when they concluded that reasonable doubt existed. Surely if they had any modicum of decency or respect for women, they would want to convict R. Kelly just because they should share John Kass's paranoia that a big scary black man like Kells might despoil their daughters.
Nine men were part of the R. Kelly Jury of Liberation. You've got to think some have daughters, or sisters, or nieces who are young teenagers. If not, let's just think on it a piece, in a parallel universe.It never occurred to John Kass that the jury was actually going to do its job and decide R. Kelly's fate based on the evidence rather than a groundless sense of protectiveness toward their female family members. Instead, he'd rather paint a portrait of an alternate universe in which R. Kelly is having a creepy pedophile tea party and children justify flocking there by quoting chronologically inaccurate butchered "Ignition (Remix)" lyrics (come on, idiot...after the show it's the afterparty, and after the party it's the hotel lobby, and round about four you gotta the lobby and then you take it to your room to fuck somebody) to their ironically unhappy chauvinist pig juror fathers powerless to do anything except ruin dinner. Shut the fuck up, John Kass. Your lame fantasies about how the jurors should reap their ironic karmic reward for not ignoring evidence of reasonable doubt and participating in a legal lynching of R. Kelly do nothing save make the Chicago Tribune look like a shitty paper for employing witless demagogues like yourself as columnists.
Consider the daughter of a juror, coming up to dad in the back yard, humming "I Believe I Can Fly" as pops finishes grilling several thick steaks. And maybe, she asks:
"Daddy? Can I go over to the R. Kelly's Acquittal After Party? You know what R. Kelly says. He says, 'It starts in the hotel lobby, and then on to the after party.' "
That's about time the old man stabs the steak with a fork about 52 times, saying "No. No. No. No. No!," leaving it dry and tasteless as his princess goes off to hang with the Pied Piper, acquitted on all 14 counts with the aid of his stupendous defense team.
After these baseless, idiotic claims providing nothing save the knowledge that John Kass considers Kells guilty even after being proven innocent, he then goes to provide even more damning evidence. In addition to the notorious media mogul-turned-mail fraud perpetrator Conrad Black and drunken Walgreen's trespasser Shia LaBoeuf, Kells's attorneys have represented mob bosses, assassins, and murdered informants. Surely with such an unsavory client list under their belts, R. Kelly's legal dream team must have represented only guilty people. Ergo, R. Kelly must be guilty too. John Kass really has to stretch to find whatever dubious circumstantial evidence he can rework into a suspicious context, even if it means suggesting that R. Kelly's right to a vigorous defense alone proves his culpability.
I called this acquittal months ago on the grounds that there was no evidence to prove R. Kelly guilty beyond a reasonable doubt, and that was long before John Kass's own newspaper began publishing exhaustive accounts of the entire sordid legal drama. It's a pity that now, with all the information about the case and the trial at his disposal, John Kass is determined to spread the word that Kells is guilty even though a reasonable jury disagreed. Rather than give credence to facts supporting an acquittal, John Kass prefers to play on people's fears that R. Kelly will piss on their daughters simply because he wants to believe that R. Kelly is guilty. I can't help but wonder about John Kass's motives. If John Kass is so determined to manufacture non-existent evidence of R. Kelly's guilt, he must have some reason. In fact, I'd wager that there are two reasons.
1. This is John Kass:
2. This is Robert Sylvester Kelly:
John Kass is a fat, poorly-equipped newspaper columnist known primarily for his hatred of Chicago mayor Richard Daley and his love of beer can chicken who drives a Passat, while Kells is black, handsome, sings, plus is rich, and is a flirt. I don't have enough to time to document all the cars that Kells purports to drive, since his musical repertoire describes a veritable container ship's worth of automobiles in his garage. Needless to say, R. Kelly's fleet of Lexus coupes, Jeeps (which actually refers to luxury SUVs of all makes and models such as the silver Lexus parked outside his beach home that makes you think he's from the swamp the way he steps out with them gators on), Maseratis (color: smurf blue), Benzes, Rolls Royce Phantoms, Maybachs, Hummer Vees (see "Jeeps," supra), Cadillacs with D's thrown on them, and "old schools" makes John Kass's Passat look pretty pathetic.
I also doubt that John Kass has had the pleasure of doing things like having fun on the freakin' weekend, Cristal-poppin' in the stretch Navigator, having girls up in his room screaming "Hercules, Hercules!", making the room go black with his love jones, throwing hundreds up for grabs with mama, walking out the club with a shitload-a women, putting women on the counter by the buttered rolls, promising that it will be painless when he journeys to Uranus, or being frozen thanks to Jacob the Jeweler. John Kass is not a dog on the prowl when he's walking through the mall, he cannot remind you that he is the king of R&B, he doesn't require three honeys just to make him feel rizight, and nobody is running their hands through his fro while he bounces on twenty fours. John Kass isn't putting the D on chicks like Wallace, he isn't making anybody's body come like the CTA, he's not doubling up with two chicks both got dizzy legs, and he can't think of anything cooler than red bikinis and some pump-heel shoes while he's lounging around at his rule-free crib butt naked in sweat socks and house shoes. John Kass's voicemail does not suggest that he's sure to get right back with you if he's not asleep, smoking on some trees, in the middle of having sex, if he's not faded, or making a baby. John Kass is not in the Prada spot or the car lot being like "two of these, player." John Kass is not a marching band, and he is not the people. John Kass is not three's company, bitch, and you can't call him Jack Tripper. While John Kass has a club date, Kells is fucking with arenas. John Kass is jealous of R. Kelly, plain and simple. R. Kelly is a player, homie, and that's a well-known factor, as is the fact that John Kass is not. That's why John Kass is hating because Kells is about to fool like he's fresh out of jizail. John Kass does not have cash money, isn't rolling on them things, he isn't drunk off in the club, he's not a motherfucking thug, he's not smoking on some dro, he's not off that Ecstasy, he's not sipping on some Cris, and he's not throwing up his shit, so by definition he cannot possibly feel this shit.
John Kass owes Kells an apology for continuing to bastardize Kells lyrics and play on his readers' latent racist fears to smear him as a pedophile--excuse me, a child pornographer--even after the not guilty verdict was rendered. I'd advise John Kass to call up RSK at the Chocolate Factory and offer a personal mea culpa in exchange for some real talk along the lines of "bitch, I wish you would burn my motherfuckin' clothes with your triflin' ass...Milton!" but if John Kass thinks Kells is screening calls he's motherfucking right. That's for the haters; Kells returns calls to all the girls he likes.
Labels: assholes, crime and punishment, legal drama, retard rage, Robert Sylvester Kelly, scathing indictments
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Simply answer this question: Did Kelly marry an underage girl? Did he begin the relationship with said girl while she was 13? Does he have a history of "managing" underage girls? The whole "I loves me some R. Kelly - he's the World's Greatest!" was a funny schtick, but you're starting to come across as irrational creep.
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# posted by 
: 6/15/2008 6:05 PM
: 6/15/2008 6:05 PM Links to this post:
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