A woman announces to her friend that she is getting married for the fourth time.
"How wonderful! But I hope you don't mind me asking what happened to your first husband?"
"He ate poisonous mushrooms and died."
"Oh, how tragic! What about your second husband?"
"He ate poisonous mushrooms too and died."
"Oh, how terrible! I'm almost afraid to ask you about your third husband."
"He died of a fractured skull."
"A fractured skull?"
"He wouldn't eat the mushrooms."
Silly me. And all this time I thought the FBI really existed. Turns out it was as mythical as the tooth fairy.
There's a lynching now in Durham, civil rights violations,
and a corrupt city government and police department.
Surely Gonzales will be there in a moment to announce at a press conference that the Justice Dept. is launching a probe.
The Federal Grand Jury will meet.
Various city officials and officers will do a perp walk.
Nobody will be allowed to get away with a lynching in the 21st century, or a shakedown right in the public eye!
But I wrote to the FBI and heard back as much as I heard back when I wrote to Santa.
All part of the same myth, I guess.
It's nice to believe in goodness; but it really doesn't exist, you know. Just a fable for kids.