When You Used Your Own Offspring’s Death to Make More Money…

And yes, there are still MANY, MANY, M-A-N-Y MORE unfitting parents such as these…

Other than that Konjac jelly case, there’s this current one where the father intentionally LEFT his own young son, who’s JUST a toddler too, inside a car, after he’d researched the temperature that the car would RISE up to, AFTER being under the sun, and, now the young child died, and the father is acting ALL sad and shit, and he’s scamming the motor vehicle company for a faulty design.

When you used your own offspring’s death to make MORE money, I mean, it is understandable, you’d already suffered the losses (the DEATH of your kid???), and, IF you could SCAM some money, to make ALL your lives easier, than, why N-O-T, right?

When you used your own offspring’s death to make MORE money, you have the chance of getting charged with M-U-R-D-E-R, because you will NOT get away with it, like this father who HAD researched the temperature it takes, to kill his own young son, in a locked up vehicle.

 

 

For Thirty-Five Years, a Mother Never Gave a DAMN About Her Own Son, and Now, She’d Fallen Ill, She’d Filed for Her Poor Son to Care for Her

And so what RIGHT have you, to ask that kid you’d ABANDONED, to take care of you?  Exactly, and yet, this is still happening, from the Front Page Sections, translated…

A woman, Wang, thirty-five years ago, left her husband and abandoned her children, married someone else, and now, she’s found to have multiple debilitating conditions, and living in poverty, she’d asked her younger son, to pay $15,000N.T. as alimony to her, to make her life better, the woman’s son stated, that his father is elderly now, his wife has cancer, and his older brother is diagnosed with schizophrenia too, and he has three kids of his own that he needed to care for, and, everybody in the house relied on his $30,000N.T. monthly wages to live, and, the mother who’d abandoned him back then, came out of the blue, and asked him to pay for her livelihood, he just couldn’t accept this.

The Shihlin District Courts believed, that when Wang divorced, she’d neglected to even bother to ask about how her children were, and so, the judge said that the son didn’t need to pay for the mother’s care.

Wang originally married her husband, Jiang, twenty-five years ago, she divorced, and then, remarried.  She stated, that she had surgery on her left hand, couldn’t work, had been diagnosed with carpal tunnel syndrome, along with other illnesses, and now, she lives with a friend, and is having a hard time getting by.  Last May, Wang had filed for alimony payments from her children.

She said, based off of the statistical department, the monthly expenses of a person in the city of Taipei is a little over $25,000N.T., and she’d only asked her second son for $15,000N.T., that’s not being unreasonable.

The mother who’d gone missing thirty-five years ago, and showed up and asked him for alimony, the second son felt awful, and, Jiang said, that his father is already seventy-nine years old, his older brother was diagnosed with schizophrenia, and his wife with laryngeal cancer, and his three kids are still young and in school; he’s making $30,000N.T. per month as a chef, and, he shouldered all the living expenses, “I could barely make ends meet, and I’m supposed to pay her alimony?”

Hearing her son’s words, Wang changed her words, “I don’t expect you to take care of me”, but hoped that the social services department would offer her some assistance.  The judge believed, that Wang didn’t have a justified reason, and she’d abandoned her children, not even showed an inkling of care or concern, that she had lost the case.

And so, in this case, because the mother never gave a FUCK (oopsy!!!) about her children, and now she’d fallen ill, she wanted him to take care of her?  The son was already barely surviving, with HIS chef’s wages, and, he not only has to take care of his own nuclear family, he still had to look AFTER his older brother, and his aging father, and his three young kids are still ALL in school, and, all of that compiled on top, how the HECK can he possibly also keep the mother who’d never even gave a FUCK about him in his younger years?  No wonder the judge ruled that the woman lost.

Turn the Corners, a Little Empathy Goes a Long Way

Written by the owner of a bed and breakfast, from the Front Page Sections, translated…

On the twenty-eighth, I went to the train station at Guanfu, to receive people who are coming to stay at the bed and breakfast I owned and operated, all of a sudden, I’d heard the attendant on the platforms yelled out, “All who are waiting for the trains to Taidong on the Second platform; because there is a passenger in a wheelchair on the train coming in, she must alight on the first platform, so, the train needed to change tracks”.  I was moved upon hearing this!  So, the rules of the game CAN be changed with humanity.

The train stations at the less developed regions usually only had staircases, and when there are elderly, children, or pregnant women, lugging along heavy suitcases, it would be gruesome.  For the Guan-Fu Trains, the passengers must take the escalators, then, walk a couple of blocks, then, climb up over ten flights of stairs, to get to the second platform, why couldn’t the Taiwanese Train Transportations just allow ALL passengers alight on the first platform?

This reminded me of how Chih-Jun Chang came to Taiwan for a visit, and had paint poured all over him, and people are blocking his path, to show that they’re angered by his presence, couldn’t the public who are assembling use a bit more empathy, and treat the man with a little more courtesy, and, wouldn’t it be nice, if the whole thing ended well too?  Turn your minds around, and, you will be able to see a beautiful scene!

And so, these are TWO contrasting things, and, unfortunately, IF you want to see these small touching moments in life, you MUST travel to distant places, where the urban living style hadn’t set in yet, where people still treated each other kindly, with courtesy.

He’d Made Abusing Her into a Habit, But This Night, She’d Fought Back with a Knife

Finally, taking matters into HER own hands, from the Front Page Sections, translated…

A man, Lin, with a history of domestic violence, met a woman who’s of Chinese descent at a karaoke, they’d dated, but Lin didn’t change his abusive ways, would often hit his girlfriend, two nights ago, the two got into an argument after getting drunk, the woman got furious that she’d taken up a kitchen knife, and hacked Lin over twenty times, his left arm was almost detached, the police described it as “like how you’d chop up pork at a market place, so deep”, it’d given them the quivers.

The police pointed out, that the forty-one year old woman of Chinese descent, two nights ago, was at a karaoke, drinking and singing with her boyfriend, Lin, she’d claimed that Lin had an argument with someone who was there first, and returned home, early morning yesterday, and started taking it out on her, and went to the kitchen to get a knife to hack at her, and she’d gotten the knife from him, and, hacked him down.

The woman said, that Lin was chasing after her with the kitchen knife, she ran to the stairways to hide out, told Lin, “if this is how you behave, then, let’s DIE together.”, and she’d taken the advantage and got the knife from him, and started hacking him, Lin begged, “honey, I’m real sorry”, but she’d already carried a grudge toward him, and still kept hacking at Lin nonstop.

Lin’s mother pointed out, that after her son and his girlfriend returned home, they got into an argument, she’d tried to resolve it, but to NO avail, and so, she went upstairs to sleep, ten minutes later, she’d heard her son howled, and went she’d gone downstairs, she saw his girlfriend, hacking at him in the stairways, she ran outside to call for help.

After the police arrived at the scene, they saw that there was blood everywhere, and, they rushed Lin to the hospitals right away, and his girlfriend, was dumbfounded, on the floor.  The police took her blood alcohol, it was at 0.84, and Lin’s was 1.5, “the two of them were totally wasted.” The police said, that Lin’s left hand was hacked like the way that pork’s feet was chopped up, the multiple wounds showed the bones, broken tendons, and, his scalp was lifted up too, and he is in stable conditions after he was rushed to the hospital, but still needed to stay in the hospital longer for observations.  Lin’s head, and left arm, had only minor scrapes.

Lin’s mother decided to press charges on the damages to her son; Lin’s girlfriend stated, that Lin was the one who started hitting her first, and cut her left forearm with the kitchen knife.  The police booked Lin’s girlfriend on attempted murder charges yesterday.

And so, this, is what happens, when push comes to SHOVE, and, because this woman was NOT smart enough to file a complaint with the police the first time he used violence against her, that, is why she is now, charged with attempted murder, and this still just shows how mothers will always hover OVER their sons too.

The Taste of Lychee, Changing Tracks

Translated…

“Wow, this, is the sweetest, the coolest taste of this summer…”

Before the Dragon Ship Racing Holidays, my eldest niece, May came home to visit my eldest brother, she’d brought with her, ten cases of “Yu-He-Bao”, wanted the five of us, brothers, to share it.  I’d just shelled one, placed it between my teeth, the sweetness, it exploded in my mouth, I’d exclaimed, “So sweet!”, and started talking to May about how her and her husband are brave in pursuit of their dreams, and the twists and turns of their lives.

May and her husband, Wei who’d originally sold stewed meats at the night markets, they’d felt that their lives of getting up early, working until late nights is too tiresome, and they couldn’t manage to take care of their young kids.  Even though, their business was doing well, and it brings in a LOT of money, but, for the sake of the wellbeing of the entire family, they’d given up the stand that has a LOT of business at the night markets, started planting fruit trees on Wei’s family farm, and started living the dreams of becoming fruit farmers that they shared before they wed.

Wei graduated from an agricultural school, and was already familiar with planting, other than planting mangoes, he’d planted lychee.  May said, that in order to fulfill their dreams, she and Wei had put all their hearts and souls on their plants, especially for the lychee trees.  They’d treated them like treasures, bagged them, and used organic fertilizers, at the same time, in order to improve the quality, they’d watered the lychee plants with milk, that, was how they were able to produce such amazing tasting, high-quality Yu He Bao.

“The lychee is delicious, and it took a LOT of work, planting, they must be expensive then?”, I’d asked, out of curiosity.  “It only looks and sound expensive, the five kilogram packs are between $350 to $750N.T.s, I’d sold them to Japan mostly.”  Wei said, with a sense of pride.

With this sort of a result, it’s all because of May and Wei’s hard work for over a decade’s time, and that, just shows, that we can take our lives, into our own hands.  And, from interacting with the two of them, I’d realized, that so long as we’re willing to chase our dreams, and take the steps toward our dreams, one day, our dreams will be fulfilled.

And so, this, is a success story in changing tracks, the couple had returned to the life of simplicity, to planting a fruit, and, they’d used their hearts to plant the fruit, and that, is why their produce tasted so very sweet, because the buyers can taste the hard work that’s put into the agricultural produces.

I Don’t Believe that I Just Can’t Master the English Language

The growth of a woman, translated…

Master Cheng-Yen from Tzu-Chi said, “You don’t work for a day, you don’t eat for a day”, and, she’d done what she’d preached, and had never broken this rule, no matter what.

I saw it, and, I’d used the same methods of approach to learn the English language, if I don’t study it one day, then, I’d NOT eat anything, and, because I don’t want to starve, my most important thing of the day, is honing up on my English skills, whether it be the radio, television, internet, or magazines, I can have access to English at any time; no matter the topics, no matter it was easy or difficult, I’d gobbled up anything English, to maximize my exposure to it.

The reason I’m doing this, is because I wanted to study abroad after my retirement.  I originally thought, that I just had to pay for the cram school sessions, and I’ll be okay, but, as I’d gone to the cram schools, and hired me a tutor, I’d felt beaten even more.  The students in the cram schools had a certain level already, and for someone who hadn’t gone to high school like me, I couldn’t understand what they are talking about.

As for my tutor, he’s a student of the National Education University, he’d told me, to NOT be afraid to ask him questions, otherwise, he wouldn’t know what to focus on to teach me.  He’d bought me vocabulary and study guides for TOEFL, wanted me to go over it ahead of the lessons.  So many thick textbooks, I’m barely surviving, I’d gotten nothing, I’d asked my younger sister who taught English at a middle school, she’d pointed out the obvious, “The students in Taiwan had studied English for over ten years, they couldn’t master it, and you want to master it, after studying it on your own for just one year?”

I’d finally realized, that it was a combination of nature and nurture that my English skills are so bad, if I don’t start from the very beginning, I couldn’t get myself into the game, and, learning a foreign language is an accumulation, it doesn’t happen overnight.  The teacher also told me, that we must study a vocabulary word eight times, and practice it in sentences on a daily basis, that we can’t find help anywhere, we must do it ourselves.

In the three years, I can already use English answer and ask questions in class, and in essay writing, even though I couldn’t write those long essays, but, with this kind of progress, I’m already very happy about it.  I just wanted to turn English into a part of my daily routines, to keep practicing, I don’t believe, that I won’t be good at it, so, my dream of studying abroad, should be happening soon.

And so, do NOT think, that you can master anything overnight, even IF you’d had previous encounters with whatever it is you’re now, taking up, because of the years of NOT using that particular skill, things are bound to become rusty, and, this person still worked hard, to learn English, because she has a goal of studying abroad.

Even if the Child Did Poorly on Her/His Exams, Love Her/Him Just the Same

A lesson in parenting, showing love and support for your child, even IF he’d not done well on something, translate…

The summers heating up, is the season for the hot examinations, the various entrance exams are coming up.  The expectations from the parents, the pressures the children face already, plus the hotness of the weather, there would be a LOT of unhappy families.

My daughter is in her last year of middle school, she’s on the train of the education reform, and, the examinations are turned over, it’d caused us, the parents, to be drained in the body and the mind, and we are all, very anxious about it too.

The day before the grades were posted, even though my husband and I kept our lips shut, but we could both feel one another’s worries.  And my daughter started having headaches, for NO reasons at all too, could it be, the aftermath of the examinations?  And so, I’d told my husband, “No matter what the grades showed tomorrow, we will both love her, just the same.” Still recalled how when I was a test taker, the bad experiences, back then, there are very little ways for someone in technical high school to get into community colleges, and, the day that my grades came in the mail, I’d opened it up, I didn’t get in.  My father glared at the grade sheets coldly, pulled down his face, without a word of console or encouragement, he’d turned away from me, coldly, then, left me, crying my eyes out, as if the world’s coming to an end.  The reason why I was crying, was NOT because I didn’t do well enough on my examinations, but my father’s cold and aloofness, and abandonment of me.

Back then, getting good grades became the way I’d gotten my father’s love, but, the real kind of love is unconditional, I love my daughter, whether or NOT she’d made the good grades, she would always be a treasure to me, and, the worth of the child is always way more important than the grades.

Parents, do NOT fall into the blind spot, and destroy the relationships you have with your offspring, getting bad grades is NOT the end of the world, there would always be a way, I believe, that you can use your love, to encourage your offspring, to dry their tears, to get back up again.

With the parents’ love and blessings, the children will have the courage, to face ANY challenges they may encounter in life.

And so, having EMOTIONAL support is still a very important thing, but, how many parents out there, in this HIGHLY competitive world, would NOT get upset when your child brings home a C, D, or even, an F?  And, grades still aren’t everything, I’d made mostly C’s and D’s in college, and, I’m still an OUTSTANDING person, and I know it, and that, is still NOT my HUGE ego talkin’ there!!!

Rebellion is the Only Thing You Need Not Rebel On

The second part of the literary relativity, translated…

The South African Writer, Coatzee, in his “Enemies”, rewrote the famous “Robinson Crusoe”.  He’d written a female character, and put her on this island, and, took up the perspective of a witness, turns out, that Robinson was an incapable of handling anything, an INCOMPETENT white person, and the native, “Friday”, was a non-English speaker whose tongue had already been cut out.

The feminists and the colonial theorists would often use Coetzee’s tale, because in the past, women and colored persons didn’t have the right to speak, and, Friday’s tongue became a sort of a metaphor, symbolizing the right to talk, getting taken away from a person.  They both believed, that the language is powerful, and once you’d lost the right to your own languages, the suppressed can only become submissive, with absolutely NO chance of getting what one had lost back again ever.

I’m in complete compliance with what you said, rebelling, was the writer’s primary motive for writing.  That stemmed from the writer’s inability to change, feeling trapped, and it’s also because language itself is the most primitive form of rebellion.  Do you still remember the chewing gum commercial, “I have something to say”, from way back?  When we were younger, almost everybody WAS moved by this commercial.  I have something to say, so I must speak.  And, what I have to say, it may be what the adults, with the rights to politics, don’t want to her, it may also be something we thought that nobody had spoken on.  Whether it was mature or not, it was, a voice of truth that came from within us.  Isn’t it the heart that the writers carried at the very beginning?

Back then, we have things to say, but we couldn’t say it aloud, so, we’d written it all down.  Back then, there was NO blog or Facebook, the words we’d written are mostly stored inside our dresser drawers.  In order for us to be heard, we worked hard, to perfect our writing skills, and even so, there were only a miniscule number of us who are able to get published, outside of the school journals.

Nobody had heard MY voice, but I still kept writing, because writing a book IS a form of rebellion.  Rebelling against what?  Rebelling against ANYTHING that’s imposed upon us.  We don’t want to follow the rules of the authority, don’t want to follow the roads set forth for us by fate or the environment.  During the day time, we’d become truant, gotten into fights, gotten chased by the disciplinary officers at our schools.  At night, we’d locked ourselves up in our bedrooms, using the pen, to talk to the papers.  We put everything on the line, but we’d all practiced talking carefully, like how in the poem, “Say it All”:

Do Find the Voice Back, You Still Have a Ton to Say

If You Must Speak, Make the Dead Come to Life Again,

To Keep Living, To Wrap Up the Words and the Sentences Up

Writing is for the sake of rebellion, and, honing up on the writing skills is to amp up the volume of one’s voices.  Sometimes, we’d speak on other people’s behalf, but, mostly, it was for ourselves.  In rebellion, we’d gained our freedom, maybe, in a Forrest Gump kind of way, but we’d still won.

The writing during puberty is for the sake of rebellion, after we’d infiltrated into the adult world, then, we come to realize, that there are a LOT more things we need to rebel on, that, was the primary force for us to keep on writing.  A lot of intelligent and early blooming writers, quickly realized that there are other ways, and left this twisting and turning path.  Those who were left, most are somewhat dumb, even IF they’d managed to ruin their health, spent all their money, destroyed their own self-confidence, they’d still believed, that the literary world is their one and ONLY battleground, and, that every single act of rebellion, should be happening here.

It’s just, that those who believed this is declining by the numbers now.  As we’d gone into midlife, other than fighting our constantly declining health, we MUST fight the information technology age.  Everybody walks into the chat rooms like they’re dueling in the Roman arenas, then, we’d all become bees, with our separate quarters, now, everybody has two faces.  I got something to say, why don’t you say it for me, someone is bound to give me a thumbs up, and, just be careful, NOT to add your mother’s friend as yours.  If you don’t have enough friends, then, you can go to someone else’s pages to leave a message.  Who do we tell our sorrows to?  The people in the 21^st Century NO longer have the thinking problems of Chekov anymore.

I’d often written in the cafés.  The cafés are noisy, rarely quiet.  It’s strange, when everybody is talking at the same time, even though the volume is loud, it’s NOT bothering me at all.  Because the voices and sounds from all over would interfere with one another, and, it’d canceled one another out, becoming a sound wave in the backgrounds.  Even if the noises are getting loud, I couldn’t hear any single thing clearly.  Instead, when there are NOT many people in the café, so long there is a table of customers, engaged in conversations, even IF they’d lowered their voices, the voices would still interfere with my thinking.  I’d sometimes listen in on them, and when I didn’t want to hear them, I’d have to put on my earphones.

In this world when the voices from the public is getting loud, but you can’t make out a single voice clearly enough, the new way of rebelling is a way of blocking out the speed and straightforwardness of the words.  I’m fearing speaking more and more these days, like how the stars would expand, and quickly become smaller again.  I don’t want my voice to get lost in the crowd, and so, I chose rebellion, and I’m constantly rebelling.  What we persist on, may be the next thing that the next generation fight and rebel against, just like how we’d reacted to the older generations.  What’s constant, is that we’re all fighting, rebelling, without the generation differences.  Rebellion, is the ONLY thing we don’t need to rebel about.

And so, in order to MAKE our voices heard, we MUST talk L-O-U-D, but, the problem with that, is that a LOT of people are trying to SILENCE us up, because the things we’re saying are NOT according to other people’s liking, and this, would be when YOU need to decide, whether or not, to BACK down, or to keep on fighting, rebelling against whatever it is you’re rebelling against, so, which’ll it be???  Rebel, or NOT to rebel, that, is the question!!!

Every Time I’d Written, It’s a Small Kind of Escape

This, is someone’s “way out”, I suppose, translated…

When I thought about rebellion, the images of my parents came to mind, they were total opposites.  My father is very straightforward in his temperament, honey, and, when he was younger, he was supposed to catch fishes, he caught fishes, in middle age, he was supposed to sell the fishes, and so, he’d done that, he didn’t have a head for business, there were six of us children, and, he didn’t seem to get stressed out about not making enough money, not that he wasn’t hard working either, before the dawn cracked every morn, he’d rode out with his boxes of fish to the marketplaces, day after day, he never even thought about how he could battle poverty.

My mother, is quite the opposite, she’d done a TON of jobs, including going to Tainan on her own, to set up stands to sell the fishes my father caught, shouldered up the entire household economy, when confronted with a difficulty, she’d always faced it with optimism.  My father had never caught on however, that it was, my mother who was helping him FIGHT poverty, the children are able to grow up safe and sound, and it still wasn’t because of the heavens, looking down on my father, the honest man.

In your book, “The Gloom Over the City of White”, you’d mentioned, “the difficulties will come at you nonstop, it would show itself in various, upsetting forms to people, as a fighter, all I can do, is to never STOP battling it, that way, I can survive in this world.  That, is the truth of a warrior, it’s an undoubted value.”  Often, I’d feel, that all mothers in the world are warriors.

Fighting, seems to be more meaningful to you, in “The Book of an Outer Island”, you’d used humor to describe how someone fought against the ridiculous rules of the army.  As for “The Tree House on Flower Street”, it was all about fighting one’s own fate.

What sort of rebelling is done by poetry writing?  Recalling how as I’d worked as a reporter in Kaohsiung, and met a TON of older poets, in order to fight for the army campsites to become a metropolitan park, they’d written poetry to rebel; there are also the poets that I’d looked up to who’d written about how the government was building nuclear plants onto the wetlands, but, toward the justices in the environments, poems doesn’t seem to do much.

Because poetry in form, is over-romanticized on, and, the symbolisms cause a distance between the public and the poet.  And, the poetry often just posed a question, not theory.  In the past and the present, there were many poets who’d become revolutionaries, because they found that poems are useless that writing them don’t make any difference at all, and so, they’d internalized the words of their own poetry and began rebelling, they wrote about how they stood on the streets and fought, wrote on the society, and the era of instability.  There are a TON of cases where poets became politicians too, they’d gone straight into the systems, to change it, and NOT use those soften words to sigh about their life situations.  And so, “poets, revolutionaries, and rock n’ roll, are often placed together, because of the rebellious nature of the poetry, on the inside.

Resistance, is an important concept in the theory of literature too, for instance, in “Fighting Memories” by Foucault, there are scholars who made a huge deal about “fighting literature”, using crossing the boundaries, to show that there are OTHER forms that aren’t mainstream at all, or, to go UP against the mainstream openly.

The techniques of poetry writing, stated plainly, is the process of rebellion.  Fighting oneself on a day-to-day basis, to keep oneself from repeating, use passion, to fight against the lack of emotionality, wrote on life’s normalcy, and write well on it, write about the spirits, using the traditional skills, to fight the fast-forward ways of the world.

Fighting the speeds!  Some would openly state how they HATE things are speeding up, I’d just read up on a line by an author, Jay Feng, “In an age where speed is everything, the speed comes at us so fast, and, the fast speed is NOT a good tempo, the bad kind of speed is with the signs of death.”  In the world of the internet, writing, is using the slow, fighting the fast, to allow life to slow down, slow down some more, so we can enjoy the scenes.  With one extra poem written, I can allow time to pass by slower.

Writing, we must fight the outside, the temptations, and the inside, our own depressions, otherwise, we can’t do it for the long run.  Even though, Hemingway got wasted the night before, he’d still gotten up at the crack of dawn, and picked up his pen, he’d used self-discipline to defend against laziness, and, those who’d used the same methods are Oden, Simon, Beauvoir, Stephen King, and the like.  Kafka, in order to make his ends meet, found a job at the Insurance Department, he had long hours of work, and, only at night, did he find the time, to write in his small apartment, to help battle the depressions he’d felt and being bound by life, he said, “if we can’t get a happy life easily, then, we MUST find ways, to help us move forward just the same.”

Move forward just the same—from another angle, I’d explained it as “making a small escape”.  In order to move forward in life, you must “make a small escape” every now and then.  Some treated traveling as that, writing serves the same purpose too, Flaubert, after writing for many years, stated, “After all, working (writing), is the best way to escape from my life”.  Making a small escape is NOT equivalent to being on exile, it’s leaving, to get some fresh air, but, you will carry that freshness that you’d gotten from the escapes you’d made, back to work again, coming back, to fight!  So, making a small escape, is a sort of rebellion too, to allow oneself to take a breather, to make one realize, that there’s more than ONE way to approach life, that there are alternative routes.

Whether or not you face it straightforward, or, in a round-and-about kind of way, “rebellion” is like the “primary motive” we’d talked about for the writers, and, rebelling is deep, in the nature of the creators.

And so, you are writing, to make an escape, to escape from reality, because, when you write, you’re immersed, in your own imagination, and, NOBODY can get to you there, that, is why writing works for a LOT of people, and, writing is a more passive form of rebellion, it’s a safer route, compared to heading outside, and speaking out loud.

After the Break-Up, He Killed His Ex, and Told Her, “Never Again”

Not a “good” bye at all, I’m afraid, from the Front Page Sections, translated…

A man, Hsu, fell in love with a married woman, Wu, the two had been dating for almost two years to date, Wu wanted to break up.  Before Hsu committed the crimes, he’d was asked by the residence of the woman’s building, “Why are you here?”, he’d replied, “I won’t come here again.”

The forty-five year old Hsu is a mechanic, his girlfriend, Wu, who’s three years old works as a salesperson for a technology company, she was married twice, the second husband, just passed away because of cancer on the 22^nd, Wu took care of a pair of middle-school aged twin daughters on her own.

Hsu said, that he’d invested ALL his emotions into Wu, he’d given her $12,000N.T. out of his $30,000N.T. paycheck each and every month, to help her household expenses.  Last year, the two had argued in front of Wu’s daughters, Wu felt it to have been improper, asked him to move out, but, they’d still spent nights at one another’s place from time to time.

Hsu claimed, that Wu has a ton of male friends, and would often hang out with her friends, and he suspected that she was unfaithful toward him; awhile ago, Wu told him, “We’re over”, that, was what made him decide to kill her.  But, Wu’s neighbors said, that Hsu is an alcoholic, and would often get into fights in the community with Wu, and got too loud, forced the neighbors to call the police, it’d made the other residents headachy.

Two nights ago, at around seven, before Wu went out to work, Hsu waited for her at the basement, saw Wu walked out of the elevator, he’d hacked her chest, her abdomen nonstop, Wu fell to the ground, and, there was blood everywhere.  Hsu claimed that he’d only hacked her four times, but, the police found six to eight knife wounds on her.

After Hsu assassinated Wu, he’d tossed the knife in the corner next to the elevator and left by foot, he claimed, that he wanted to kill himself then, but he didn’t have the knife anymore, after wandering in the parks, he’d turned himself in at the Sanming Subprecinct at three in the morning yesterday.

And so, this, is how love CAN kill, because she wanted to break up with him, and he wasn’t willing, because he felt that he wasn’t done with her yet, and that, was his primary motive for murder.

The Former Dominican Republic’s Ambassador of the Pope Was a Pedophile, and Was Found Guilty of Sexually Molesting Boys

Another “specimen” of a LIAR that preached about the love of G-O-D, from the Front Page Sections, translated…

The Pope’s representative to the Dominican Republic, Jozef Wesolowski was found guilty, of sexually raping many boys, the Roman Catholic Church, on the 27^th, mandated that he be alleviated from his duties as a servant of God.  This, is the harshest punishment that the Roman Catholic has ever had, toward a high ranking member of the church in history. On the twenty-seventh, the Reason Department punished Wesolowski to return to being normal for his rapes.  Returning to the normal ways of life is the harshest punishment that the “Order of the Church” can have on any member of the church.

Wesolowski, who was originally Polish, he has two months’ time to prepare for an appeal, at the same time, he also faces the multiple criminal charges, and, IF these charges stand, he may face time in jail.  The Vatican stated, that it will take the measures that it needed, to make sure that he doesn’t make escape.

The Dominican Republic’s San Domingo Bishop had already reported and confirmed to the Pope of Wesolowski’s rape on many boys, the Catholic Church on August 21 of last year, recalled Wesolowski, and stripped him of his ambassadorship, and started an investigation on him and a Polish priest.

Wesolowski is the highest ranking member of the Vatican who faces investigations of rape to date.  The Catholic Church never stated how Wesolowski responded to the accusations, nor did they disclose any information of Wesolowski’s attorney either.

And so you still have a preacher of god that did something EVIL, and, this time, before he had the chance of using “the DEVIL made me do it!!!”, he was already found GUILTY, and, he was STRIPPED of his Roman Catholic religion, and that, if you ask me, still isn’t harsh enough a punishment, and, that would make you wonder, IF there needed to be MORE reforms in the Catholic church or not, doesn’t it???