We were able to obtain these prosecution photos during the trial. Officer Paladino has finally released Esther from a painful arm-bar. The sign (obscured by a balloon from the Chipotle parade unit passing beside us) reads KIDS NOT BOMBS.
Esther asks the police officers why they are initiating such violence.
Esther is then pulled by the arm to the ground for having interfered.
Elizabeth, whom the police pretended was the peace marcher seen sitting down, was still leaning into the Bookmobile trying to find her walking cane.
Bush is invoking the lessons of Vietnam as a reason to persevere in Iraq, highlighting opinions of historians apparently. The media describes them as heroic revisionist historians who are opposed by anti-war historians. Has academia betrayed history?
Who is historianMark Moyar, author of Triumph Forsaken (how we could have won in Vietnam etc)? Associate professor at the U.S. Marine Corps University.
Who is historianLewis Sorley, author of A Better War, Honorable Warrior (and other favorable accounts of Vietnam)? Civilian official of the Central Intelligence Agency, then Secretary of the Board of Directors of the Army Historical Foundation and Executive Director of the Association of Military Colleges and Schools of the United States.
In the end, the decision by the defense attorney to let the police and parade organizers do all the talking is what got a hung jury. In short, it was the witnesses for the prosecution that did all the blabbing contrary to what the reactionary daily paper, The Gazette, would have wanted to image to the public. Only Elizabeth Fineron testified as a defendant and her testimony was quiet and reasonable. The prosecution witnesses came off as a little too slick at times, and quite a bit incompetent at others.
The Gazette editorial staff have consistently tried to paint the St Pat’s Day Parade proPeace group as loud and belligerent, and pushy with their message. And they have projected that the message of peace somehow was an endangerment to the public by being allowed with all the allowed (and encouraged) pro military messages at the parade. In this they echoed the argument by city officials and their parade organizers that push the anti-social message that War somehow is patriotic, while peace activists are to be taken as being dangers to the community and violent.
The defense attorney argued that no blame should fall to the police, they were merely as confused as the defendants were from the general chaos coming from basically an incompetent group of organizers. But this message was a false one actually, that merely was a defense lawyer strategy not to take on the police directly inside the courtroom.
In reality, the police had all the power to use discretion and avoid the excessive use of force to police the parade, but just did not do so since they were so gung ho and ready to bop the ProPeace people on behalf of the organizer and his agents.
There was no miscommunication at all, and 2 of the jurors were apparently able to sense that this was the case and decided to stand firm and hang the jury. They saw that the blocked street was the conspiracy of parade organizers themselves, and not the proPeace walkers. The other 4 jurors were impervious to common sense and allowed their own fixed prejudices and desires to bop proPeace people on the head, too, to prevail with their votes to convict. Nothing much was going to change their minds.
In short,the prejudices both for always supporting the police whether Right or Wrong, and also for those who supported the right to have both military and proPeace groups together in this city parade seemed to stay fixed throughout the testimony. Four of the jurors would probably have convicted the defendants as being guilty of conspiracy to commit murder if they had been asked to do so by police and prosecutors. Two of the jurors had the ability to say to themselves, ‘Just hold on now…this could have been done totally different at this parade.’
This desire by city bosses to squelch anything other than proWar and military based commentary at their city St Pat’s Day event has now caused them to allow the police to get away with roughing up a group of mainly elderly and infirm parade participants, and has helped squander hundreds of thousands of municipal tax monies in trying to get away with it. Will they just keep thumping away with more waste for their crusade by going for a new trial of these innocent individuals? Will they argue again that these 7 people conspired together to deliberately and to intentionally block this sponsored city parade? Will they just continue to look and act vicious and stupid by taking this same action once again, bringing in the lawyers to thump heads after having the police do so?
One thing is for sure… If The idiot editorial staff of The Gazette has their way, that’s just exactly what city officials will try to do. They will waste yet more tax monies in an effort to convince the public that proPeace people are violent, and proWar people are peaceful. And we will sink into having yet another Alice in Wonderland style trial taking place inside the city.
What would Lockheed want with their monies influencing the local scene as Colorado Springs major employer? And what would the Bush led Pentagon want? The police are there to do the bidding of these folk and not so much to ensure public safety of parade participants themselves. They are perfectly ready to make examples of any that would try to step out of line from public promotion of militarism inside the City of Colorado Springs. They call that defending the public safety. Isn’t that right, Police Chief ‘Liars’ Myers?
It’s a thing we try, every first Tuesday, holding banners at the Ft Carson gate. The soldiers are afraid to wave to us from their cars, as they do freely when they pass us at other intersections around town.
For weeks now, I have had a sense of impeding doom as the Pikes Peak Justice and Peace Commission has consistently failed to adequately argue the case of the Saint Patrick’s Day Seven police attack in the court of public opinion. The issue of how the city used its police force in a brutal manner to suppress the citizens right to express their opinions in public was not put forth in a strong manner, but rather increasingly was replaced with a love fest with the police chief, orchestrated by a religious pacifist contingent that only has seeked to underline its eternal commitment to turning the other cheek.
This meek and defeatist attitude about defending antiwar speech has now been extended into the court room, as the St Pat’s Day 7 seem headed towards losing their criminal case. They have allowed the ACLU lawyer to not argue their issues for them, all the while watching like meek sheep before the slaughter. So far, the desire to have their day in court has been taken away from them by their own lawyer!
Instead of arguing that the police acted in an unreasonable manner and with undue force, the attorney for the defense has said that the police were in an untenable situation, absolving them of any responsibility for what happened. What an astounding weak defense, as the St Pat’s Day 7 lawyer has absolved the city and its police force of all blame for the attack on his own defendants! Instead, he has confined the defense to only insisting that the ‘volunteers’ for the city contracted organizer of the event, John O’Donnell, had acted in an untrained and indisciplined manner, and that John O’Donnell himself had seemingly tried to cover up that fact.
But where is the obvious here? Did the police have to follow orders from the city contracted parade organizers without being obligated to use any of their own discretion? No they did not, but that is not being argued in the court by the defense lawyer. He just cedes the issue entirely, though it seems rather obvious that a little bit of police initiated discussion would have gone a long way before pulling out the heavy use of physical police force. Instead, he has weakly allowed the gloating cops involved to just act like it was their natural right to have attacked his defendants in they way that they did! And that the defendants probably brought about their own problems…
This case has also always centered on the role of John O’Donnell, and whether or not the City of Colorado Springs would be allowed to divorce itself entirely away from its relationship with him. Because neither the defense lawyer nor the Justice and Peace Center has made the slightest effort to expose this man’s incestuous relationship as city organizer of pro-military events for the city, they have allowed the man to posture as an innocent private person solely concerned with the ‘security’ of parade participants, and not as a suppressor of one point of political view to the favor of cheerleading the other political point of view, which is the pro-war point of view.
He has done this through consistent backing from the city government with tax monies taken from all the citizenry. This should all along have been the main defense argument, both in and out of court. Instead, in all cases, both the defense lawyer and many in the J&P have referred to him as being ‘good people.’ In fact, he is practically a paid employee of the City of Colorado Springs, who directs their police force even though a ‘private’ citizen and not a police official, and organizes major city events under the complete guidance of city government. And an official who suppresses free speech against war that he finds objectionable while allowing pro-military views to proliferate.
The J&P has not been arguing its case before the court in the trial, and has been weak at doing so in general. Today is going to be the last day of the trial, and hopefully the jurors can see through the obscurantist trial proceedings to understanding the real issues not being discussed there. And upon doing that, that they can find the defendants not guilty??? That is now a big ‘IF’.
Unfortunately, the defense lawyer has let a scenario be presented where it appears natural that when the police say jump, that the defendants should have jumped through the hoops IMMEDIATELY. And that by not doing so was in fact, only their way of blocking the parade route,which is what they, in fact, are charged with doing. In short, the St Pat’s Day 7 are seemingly being hung by their own lawyer.
PS- I had thought not to write any more here but am doing so now because of the importance of this trial event. I think it’s important that a true picture be presented of what is now transpiring in court here on this particular blog.
My dad grew up in Norway under the occupation. He had a half-brother three years older about whom he was told nothing, who joined the Germans during the war and was killed at the Russian Front. My father wasn’t told when it happened, but remembers his mother getting the telegram.
We recently learned the brother’s name, and my uncle has recovered a photograph from the municipal archives.
His name was Martin. I have yet to see the new picture. This is a photograph which caught my eye some years ago, and which I kept, thinking it could be my family’s lost son, just as well as any other. It remains from captured German records, depicting an unnamed soldier, anyone’s. How likely is it that no-one survives to recognize this boy?
Martin was the product of my grandmother’s ill-fated first marriage. Her husband didn’t get along with her parents. He tried to poison her father, and in the attempt killed her mother. He was sent to prison, leaving my grandmother alone with the boy. When she began a new family, the older boy grew to become too much of a reminder of the deviant father, too much apparently for her new husband to bear. My grandmother was prevailed upon to send the boy away to be raised by relatives in the country. Martin disappeared before his half-siblings were old enough to remember him, traces of his memory effaced. My father remembers seeing a family picture which included a young Martin, to which my grandmother pretended, “that’s you.” And so one weekend a month, Gudmor would leave the family to visit her old aunt in the country. In later years my dad and his siblings figured out there was no such aunt. My grandmother died without telling the story.
It’s surmised that Martin grew up unwanted, ostracized by family and extended family, which may explain why on his seventeenth year, the Norwegian boy joined with the occupiers and enlisted with the Waffen SS, the German Army unit reserved for citizens of the occupied countries. He was sent to the Russian Front where he died in 1943.
My father called his younger brother yesterday, on a lark, though sometimes he is psychic. His brother was sitting in his car in Oslo, contemplating the photograph he’d just obtained of their lost brother. My uncle had also learned of Martin’s resting place, a cemetery for German soldiers in present-day Poland. They’re making plans to go visit his grave.
My courtship with Dave went something like this. “Hi.” “Hi.” “What did you get on the SAT?” “XXX on math. XXX on verbal. You?” “800 on both.” “Combined?” “Ha.”
That conversation, which occurred at Bennigan’s on North Academy in 1984, as I sat at a table holding hands with my cute-but-inferior tennis pro boyfriend, sealed our fate. Dave and I were less than crazy about each other. Our DNA, on the other hand, fell fast and hard. Over the moon in fact. Our double-stranded helices batted amino acids at each other, wanting to intertwine forever in a heart-shaped petri dish. Messenger RNA played Yenta. We were both far more concerned about the g-factor, inherent ability to learn, IQ for you old schoolers, than the g-spot, which I still don’t understand that well or care about that much. Really.
Our top colleges had traditionally drawn from the spawn of the affluent. Students from northeastern prep schools such as Exeter and Andover were the incoming freshman class. Higher education was not for the many, but for the privileged few. Thank goodness that a rebel Rockefeller or Carnegie daughter defied her parents and married a cowboy from Wyoming. The rich began to question the system. “How can I get my dung-covered grandson into Princeton? I know he is far more brilliant than some of these Vermont yahoos. I know! Let’s create a test that shows off the Mayflower genome. Diamonds in the American rough.” Thus the SAT was born.
For many years the SAT served a noble purpose. Intelligent hardworking children from mediocre schools, from up-and-coming western states, from blue collar families, could distinguish themselves as better than their circumstances would normally allow. Stanford, the “Harvard of the West,” helped America meet her Manifest Destiny.
But the rich are not comfortable with a level playing field. Perhaps they fear that too many trophy wives have diluted their genetic purity. I don’t know. But, predictably, they began to climb back up Mount Superior. What was designed to be a test taken after a good night’s sleep, by anyone, became a game to be won. Expensive review courses and other manipulations once again favored the privileged few. Not about to give up flagship universities to the underclass, they changed the rules of engagement.
Educators say that the SAT tells us nothing much. Yes, a certain segment of society has an inherent superior ability to learn, to achieve what they’ve been asked to achieve. No surprise there. But it is a limited quest. A limited vision. And a poor indicator of future success. Superiority for its own sake is a dead end. Our kids can walk around now with pride but not purpose. They can achieve but not accomplish. The SAT has become the measure of a person. Works aside. That’s sad. I feel for my children, being raised in this environment. They want to do well, and achievement is what it takes. I rue the pressure they feel, but I am unable to remove them from the competition.
Abolish the SAT. Abolish the ACT. Abolish the CSAP. Let the measure of a person be what they DO. If they work hard to attain good grades, let us honor that. I think it was Jesus who said, “Pretty is as pretty does.” Or maybe he said, “If they won’t work, let them also not eat.” I made a mistake when I thought that good genes were the loftiest goal. Not so.
Is the jury still out on the Clintons? Bill presided over huge tax giveaways to the rich, NAFTA and other concessions to globalization, the US war crimes of bombing Kosovo and the Sudan, media consolidation, and building the platform which launched George W. For her part, the first lady delivered squat on health care. Since then, have either been anything other than apologists for the current regime? Hippies my ass, those are Halloween costumes! Bill and Hill of That 70s Show were just social climbers attired in whatever folks wanted to see that day.
The call is spreading across the web. Maybe we can make it amount to something here too. Join us on 9/11. Buy gas the day before if you have to, call in sick if you must, but join us on Tuesday, Sept 11, for the General Strike. We’ll be lining Nevada to urge the rest of Colorado Springs to wake up!
The recent CS Independent update on the St Patrick’s Day Seven left the unfortunate impression that police brutality has become a less significant component of the events that day. In reality our lawyer wants his defendants to answer for our guiltless actions without demeaning ourselves making counter accusations of excessive force.
While the upcoming trial concerns only the specific accusation that we seven intended to obstruct the parade that day, in fact the actions of the accused were most certainly influenced by the repressive manner of the police. If our lawyer is unable to raise the issue of the unnecessary violence, the attempted humiliation, the illegal physical coercion and reckless injury at our trial this week, a remedy will most certainly require further legal action.
The CSPD learned nothing from their misdeeds at the 2003 anti-war protest. Now that people recognize my face from the parade incident, I find myself besieged by accounts of police brutalization of the city’s homeless and less fortunate.
If the Saint Patrick’s Day Seven are making too much fuss for your taste, please consider that it has less to do with our treatment suffered at the hands of the police. We stand for all Americans who expect their civil liberties to be respected, particularly those who may not have a parade audience in broad daylight to insure they will be treated with civility. Somehow we must impress upon the CSPD to adopt a culture of respect for the dignity of all the people it serves.
The ACLU has chosen to defend us because the police should not conduct themselves as if they have the license to curb free speech and inhibit the freedom to assemble. And certainly not by means of force.
Chinese police confiscated this tourist’s camera when she happened upon a prison workforce out in the fields. Nothing wrong with putting convicts to work? Say you have fields in need of workers, and you have the authority to step up arrests… for arbitrarily enforced violations like substance abuse… at just the peak time of need, say, for planting season, or the harvest…
What is going to happen when this war unravels? Do Americans have any notion of the consequences of losing a war? No one made us apologize for Vietnam. We don’t know! Imagine when we have to make up to everyone for Iraq and Afghanistan. It’s going to mean paying war reparations with a debilitating effect on our economy. And can it mean worse?
It’s the urban-mythologized-product-placement “Pottery Barn Rule,” you break it, you buy it, and the don’t-have-enough-money-to-pay-for-dinner victim restitution principle, where you have to wash the dishes.
At the end of WWII, Russia quietly rounded up all the German ex-soldiers and shipped them off in nighttime trains to Siberian work camps where they remained as captive laborers for as long as a decade after the war. Have our weekend reservists considered that eventuality in their future? Sorry dudes. We’ll be supporting you troops ten years from now, sending off care packages to the Middle East to secret reconstruction camps, location unknown.
I approached my fellow board members at the ACLU to add their organization’s name to the list of cosponsors of the upcoming PPJPC social event: Give Peace a Dance. They turned it down.
Do I bite my thumb at them?
The American Civil Liberties Union of Colorado Springs stands only for the civil liberties of Americans. Yes, this would exclude non-citizens, guest workers or refugees, not to mention world citizens. Where does this leave populations under American occupation, whose welfare is our responsibility according to the Geneva Conventions?
(Actually, the Bill of Rights applies to anyone on American soil, citizens and non-citizens. And laws of war dictate that such protections are also owed to people under occupation. I don’t care if you are not concerned about your fellow human beings, you’re bound by law to care for the victims of our war. Do you have any particular affinity for the principles of the ACLU in the first place?)
My colleagues’ rationale? The ACLU should not dilute their focus, nor offend their conservative base, by speaking up against war, in this casethe deprivation of rights of millions which illegal US actions have wrought.
If the Justice and Peace were to have any allies, to my mind the ACLU would be a likely candidate. Unfortunately the peace movement in Colorado Springs is not gathering momentum through the coordinate efforts of organizations. This city is still vastly overpopulated with people who may know the right thing to do, but who aren’t up to the task of doing it.
They are cowards. There will always be an excuse, won’t there? It’s hard to argue with a man who wants to run from the lion, but this isn’t about our own self-preservation is it? The only way to stop this lion is to keep marching. That is our only hope that it might someday stop attacking others. I don’t think it takes any courage to do the right thing. To do the wrong thing, for lack even of knowing what to do, is cowardice.
My efforts to persuade the ACLU were heavy handed and condescending, I wish I could have spoken otherwise. I called their excuses morally bankrupt. So why stop now? These do-gooders may be wrapped in the fog of Bush’s war, but they’re not stupid. They’re cowards.
A fellow advocate of peace thinks it’s time to walk the walk. Be the peace you hope to inspire in others. “There’s been enough talk about peace, now walk the walk.” I find this a less than refreshing contortion of the catch-phrase. It’s one thing to speak peaceably, quite another to speak up in support of peace. Policemen are not going to disturb your being peaceful. Keeping peace with yourself does not disrupt their bosses’ war mongering and profiteering. But speak up for peace, and the war industry has a problem with you.
Am I advocating rubbing policemen the wrong way? Not for its own sake. But are you trying challenge authority and stop a war?
I’m all for people walking the walk, paying more than lip-service, or putting their money where their mouth is. But don’t pervert that to mean a peacemaker’s mouth should be kept assiduously quiet. The effort to end war and injustice means speaking up for those who cannot. If I insist it means fighting for what you believe, I do not mean fighting in an other than non-violent sense, I mean putting forth effort. If you are not talking, you’re just walking.
We know we can’t trust our government to tell us the truth about the war in Iraq, or anything else. Nor can we trust the corporate-controlled media. But an opinion piece in today’s New York Times, written by 7 non-commissioned military men just returning from a 15-month tour of duty, provides some insight into America’s noble fight against the nation of Iraq.
Let’s hope that the pen is indeed mightier than the sword.
Ralph Routon’s recent diatribe in the Indy about the impending departure of Michael DeMarsche was lame. But you have to understand. Having Ralph write about the arts is akin to having John Waters write about the Superbowl. You can only imagine how funny that would be. To us. But not to sports fans. You might as well call Jesus a homo or spit on an Indian before you sully such sacred land.
People. Look at the picture of Ralph. Then consider that no one chooses their worst picture to present to the world. This is likely as good as it gets. Which means that he is a beer-swilling bratwurst-gobbling sports-worshiping manly man. He spits. He scratches. He has issues with dingleberries. But he LOVES sports. And by sports, I don’t mean fencing or horse racing or curling. Sport involves a BALL of some sort. And a distinctively American connection (which rules out rugby and soccer, although rugby is the ultimate masculine sport…even basketball doesn’t totally qualify for reasons I can’t quite figure out, but I think it’s because there are so few good white players).
One of the most memorable arguments that Dave and I ever had involved music. We were in our late twenties; we lived in downtown Denver and we were cool. He was a surgical resident at the U and I was a financial guru for a hip software company. As such, we were invited to many events. When these invitations came in through medical channels everything was great. Orthopedic surgeons are always jocks who were inspired to become surgeons while recovering from their own sports-related injuries. But when the invitations came from my side of the channel, things were unpredictable.
We were invited to Josephina’s on Larimer, to drink wine and listen to some groovy jazz with fellow yuppies, a term Dave hated. We got there. We drank Coors Light while they drank "whine." They listened to the "music." In a very unfortunate turn of events, the girl that Dave took to junior prom, Alison, the fantastic skier, the one that paid only friendly attention to him due to family connections, walked in with her new husband, Clark. Clark was an attorney who was, tragically, wearing a knee-length fur coat. Dave was wearing Levis, tennis shoes and a yellow t-shirt (with red letters, like a hot dog) that said "NO LIGHTS AT WRIGLEY FIELD!" (which is now framed in the basement, I kid you not). Things went rapidly downhill from there. ‘When’s the music gonna start? I could probably fix that pinkie for a fee. Let’s go to the sym-PHONY next week."
Dave is the guy who slept through the birth of most of his children. Our 10-year-old had the lead role in Oliver! at the FAC and I had to beg Dave to watch a single performance. Brendan was in Colorado Christmas at the Broadmoor, performing for 1,000 people every night and Dave came to watch only once and rolled his eyes at all the "religious" bullshit (he doesn’t know any Christmas carols). Brendan was hand-picked by Debbie Allen to be in Pepito’s Story at the Pikes Peak Center and Dave was sort of embarrassed and wondered if Brendan might be gay.
This same guy sobbed like an 8-year-old girl when Brent Musburger retired from sportscasting. I’ve been to two Broncos Superbowls, Northwestern’s first Rose Bowl in 80 years, several Olympic games, the Citrus Bowl when Peyton Manning was senior quarterback and headed for greatness. Weeping and gnashing of teeth all around. My children paint, and play music, and sing, and dance. None of it matters. But Dave is elated for days if 6-year-old Devon, the only girl on the team, makes a double play to win the game. Booyah! Fuck yeah!
My point in all this is that Ralph Routon DOES NOT and CAN NOT care about the arts. We will have to leave it to the psychiatrists to figure out why. Ralph Routon does not care who or what is playing at the Black Sheep, Theaterworks, the BAC. He won’t attend Pridefest, nor the Diversity Fair. Not even Springspree. But he will agonize over the legal troubles of Michael Vick and any injury sustained by LaDanian Tomlinson. He did, after all, draft them to his fantasy football team and he’s got 50 bucks hanging in the balance.
John Weiss, not exactly a manly man and therefore less than qualified to diagnose the problem, better figure it out soon and bring in some new blood. Or the Indy will become the Indy 500 and he’ll have to find a whole new group of advertisers and readers. Of course I’m kidding. Car racing is most definitely not a SPORT. Duh.
This painting is called Me and Dad with captives. No explanation proffered. It’s by New Mexico artist Jason Godeke as part of a series about inhumanity.
The scene recreated here haunts me every time I look upon it, and reminds me of the George Saunders novella Bounty. From his collection CivilWarLand in bad decline written in 1996, Bounty describes a timeless America where slavery divides Normals and Flaweds. The story offers the reader a point of view with which he can identify, as any average imperfect person, facing a world were all laws, comforts and sympathies are against him. Escape leads only to the next captor’s depravity, (Normals being just as vulnerable to human frailty as the random genetically Flawed). For the unfortunates, damned by birth, there is no landscape or impending social reform to offer hope of reprieve.
Godeke’s farm scene suggests an identical terror. Two people, indistinguishable from any other, are bound and at the mercy of two others. One looks despondent, the other is reacting to a mistreatment. The two tormentors act with fresh enthusiasm for the power they wield over their captives, recording, as the painting’s title suggests, this snapshot for posterity. Not “our captives,” not “the captives,” but simply that opportunity’s “captives.” The field extends further than the victims’ voices can carry, there is no sanctuary on the horizon and time stands still.
In my post, The Madness of King George, I wrote about the recently approved changes to FISA. I won’t reiterate here.
The ACLU, God bless ’em, has mobilized quickly to contest the constitutionality of the proposed changes. Please sign their petition and make your opinion known. I understand this is a bit like tax planning….boring at the time, but rewarding in the end. Do it. Please. Congress needs to know that we are watching. And we won’t stand for their capitulation any longer.
George is the cowboy. We are the Indians. Isn’t it time to revise history? Give us back our land, you mother fuckers.
Protest the war. Promote economic and social justice. Scream to close Guantanamo. Offer your body to be burned and watch the buzzards feast off your tasty flesh. See them wait for the next sucker who will feed their greedy maws. We can fight every injustice that we see in our country, even in the world, and it won’t make a bit of difference. The true evil is that we have a government that is designed to be “of the people, by the people, for the people” to which the people matter not. We do not live in a representative democracy. Please stop thinking that we do.
The full frontal assaults on our civil liberties just keep coming. Finishing touches are being put on a bill that will give the power of life and death to George W. Bush, through Alberto Gonzales. In the past, federal judges determined whether death row prisoners were receiving “adequate counsel” during the appeals process. A provision in last year’s reauthorization of the Patriot Act gives that power to the Attorney General. What this really means is that Bush can fast track executions. He has the ability to shorten the time period given to death row inmates to appeal their cases to federal courts. Texas has been doing this for years. The Lone Star state loves to barbeque.
But who really cares about death row inmates? I certainly haven’t in the past. Nor prostitutes strangled on the side of the road. Nor drug dealers killed in squalid neighborhoods. That was them. I’m in a different, more deserving, more protected class.
In the past few years my eyes have been opened to the incredible unchecked power and flagrant dishonesty of our governmental institutions. From police brutality, to discrimination in hiring, to outright lying, to doctoring evidence, to unequal application of the law. All of these I have witnessed first hand. I can no longer turn up my nose at death row inmates. I am no longer convinced of their guilt. I no longer trust the “justice” system that put them behind bars.
I have become she. We have become they. If I were to be falsely accused of a crime, they could not find a jury of my peers. Nor yours. We would be at their mercy. And they would lick their chops in eager anticipation of the banquet being prepared for their enjoyment.
Much of what is being done escapes our notice. Collusion between the government, corporations and the media keeps most of us in the dark. But death comes for the American people. The grim reaper is waiting in the dark that is our national conscience. Only the light of revolution can save us now.
There’s been much hand-wringing over the news that the United States lags behind 41 other nations with regard to life expectancy. Oh my, they say. How could the richest nation in the world be surpassed by lesser mortals? We’re #1! We’re #1!
We’re #1 alright. Thanks to our gluttony and laziness (with kudos to the food industry and the government), we have the highest rate of obesity on the planet. A third of adults over 20 are considered obese. Two thirds are overweight. We gorge ourselves on fast food. Know nothing about nutrition. Refuse to exercise. So, duh, we’ve got heart disease. High cholesterol. High stress. Depression. Anxiety. Addiction.
Thanks to our avarice, we also have record foreclosure rates. A negative savings rate. High expectations for our personal prosperity but an unwillingness to work for its attainment. Or, conversely, we are workaholics who spend our lives like rodents in a wheel, running to pointless exhaustion. The rest of the time we sit, slack-jawed in front of the TV or the computer, passively enjoying life from our Lay-Z-Boy deluxe armchairs. Not exactly Heidi in the Alps.
Many of the nation’s problems are tied to our lack of self-care and low standards for our own health and well-being. Quick to place blame, we are rarely the culprit. We rely heavily on others to slap expensive Band-Aids on the woes we’ve created for ourselves. We are Americans. We are entitled. To whatever we want. From whatever pocket.
What do we want? Whatever we want! When do we want it? NOW!
It’s a twisted existence we’re living. We are ruining ourselves. We are ruining the rest of the world. I’m overjoyed that our life expectancy isn’t the highest. I’ve already had enough and I’m only halfway there.
I happened upon videos of cops tasering arrestees. Gruesome scenes of obvious sadistic indulgence. Sometimes prolonged and repeated.
While the taser has become a popular tool for the police to deal with uncooperative subjects, it’s hard not to see pure sadism in the guise of standard operating procedure. The police bark their orders (usually, “put your hands behind your back”) and give a warning about using the taser. If still no compliance, zap.
Rather, ZAAAAAAAAAAP. Then the officer repeats his instruction. If the subject is still dealing with the pain, or is disoriented by having fallen, or cannot register the policeman’s command, no matter, ZAAAP again. More howls, more uncomprehending, ZAAAP, ZAAAP, until the officer deems it safe enough to sit on the subject and pull the subject’s hands behind the back himself to apply the handcuffs.
Try laying stomach down on your bed and raising your arms to clasp your hands behind your back. Of course you can do it, but it’s very easy to feel like you cannot. Imagine if you are recovering from the pain of the electroshock, or you’re bruised from hitting the ground, or perhaps you are disoriented from alcohol, as in many of the cases.
While tasers do appear to be reducing our peace officers’ exposure to physical contact with suspected criminals, did we mean to remove the human, humane element of their task? We didn’t hire robots for the job, for example. We probably intended, and we pay police accordingly, to exercise some elbow grease.
The job description for a police officer must include apprehending suspected lawbreakers humanely. We don’t authorize them to shoot suspects or drive Mack trucks into them, even if some law-enforcement researcher was to discover a non-lethal way that could be done.
With tasers, aren’t we touching on the abrogation of the right to due process under law? A person is innocent until proven guilty, we all know that, but it applies here because a person suspected of a crime must not be punished before their day in court. Police maintain that the taser is not a means of punishment, but instead is a non-lethal method to induce compliance with recalcitrant subjects. Putting aside the already numerous taser fatalities, the taser would have to be non-painful as well to comply with the 14th Amendment. Viewing the videos, it’s plain to see that tasers are excruciatingly painful and are being used by policemen as torture devices. Even to threaten to use the device is torture. Torture and the threat of torture is banned by international convention.
I must admit a cynical enjoyment of some of these taser videos. The large majority of subjects not cooperating with the police are drunk. In these videos, they were pulled over for drunk driving or for a domestic disturbance influenced by alcohol. I sympathize with the officers who cannot get through to those people, especially when they are derisive and combative.
The drunks try to avoid the commands they’re given using tactics of delay or distract or abuse. Of course, how much responsibility should they bear for behavior not entirely under their own control? When tasered a drunk writhes in pain like everyone else, but you wonder if he will have any memory of it later. Perhaps this plays a part in an officer’s thinking. The drunk, lost in a chemical state, is suspected of jeopardizing the safety of others, but can be judged on the spot for trying the officer’s patience, the taser becomes a means of instant payback. Traditionally, excessive force would have served this function, but at least the policeman would have had to weigh his interest in exerting the effort. The taser makes it too easy to make the wrong decision.
I wouldn’t trust myself with a taser, I’m too jaded. I already lament the social plague that is alcoholism. There are of course many root problems which our society needs to address. But so also, the alcoholic’s behavior is sometimes vehemently proclaimed to be voluntary. Our having to deal with the adversity and endangerment which alcoholics bring is too often not voluntary. In these videos, I take a vicarious pleasure in stopping that drunk. As long as drunks want to subject the rest of us to their drunkenness, and won’t show contrition until morning, we’ll want to indulge our equal and opposite discomfort and Zap ’em.
Somebody’s written a new biography of Che Guevara, painting him as the father of modern terrorism. How silly. Did Boeing father 9/11? It seems a perverse sacrilege I don’t want to abide. Shall we say Gandhi was the father of couch potatoes? George H.W. Bush fathered a bastard.
I hardly know how to keep track anymore of the traitors in academia, or the dishonest scholars in the fraudulently accredited foundation ink-tanks. It’s hard for me to imagine anything less than a Robespierre tribunal bloodletting when events are sorted out and the bastards are overcome. Would we welcome the cretins to our side, over the transitory moments, all forgiven, good show what, or do we hold them responsible for their deceptions and contrivances, which delayed rectification for too long?
They know the lies they are telling. They have orchestrated the discourse, keeping a meticulous black-out on opposing voices, and they’re getting paid big bucks to do it. These are Mephistos we are talking about, selling the lie, diverting justice, reinforcing roadblock after roadblock to peace, stoking the fires toward more destruction, murder, enslavement and human misery.
There will come a time for storming the castle. It might be time already, judging by the defenses they’ve already erected against us.
You and I, and whoever we can enlist in the effort, have to scale these walls with what tools we can muster. These authoritive faces, who’d you forgive and forget, are on the parapets above us, holding us off. They’re at the bullhorns, making it harder for us to rally peers to our support. They throwing everything at us.
If we can scale past them, if we survive the fight with them, with so much at stake, I don’t see why quarter should be offered.
An uncelebrated milestone: this week marked the 1,000th mercenary death in Iraq. The casualty figure for US military soldiers moved up four in one blast to 3688. This week also saw the highest number of US troops in Iraq, 162,000. Counting the estimated 180,000 contractor-mercenaries that figure is 342,000.
Also this week: extrapolating from last year’s Johns Hopkins estimate for Iraqi deaths due to the US invasion, the current number of Iraqi casualties is estimated to be rounding ONE MILLION. One million Iraqi lives lost, in violent deaths, as a result of the US illegal war. One million Iraqis definitely better off with Saddam deposed.
No one made us apologize for Vietnam. We don’t know! Imagine when we have to make up to everyone for Iraq and Afghanistan. It’s going to mean paying war reparations with a debilitating effect on our economy. And can it mean worse?
I approached my fellow board members at the ACLU to add their organization’s name to the list of cosponsors of the upcoming PPJPC social event: 
Ralph Routon’s recent diatribe in the Indy about the impending departure of Michael DeMarsche was lame. But you have to understand. Having Ralph write about the arts is akin to having John Waters write about the Superbowl. You can only imagine how funny that would be. To us. But not to sports fans. You might as well call Jesus a homo or spit on an Indian before you sully such sacred land.
Somebody’s written a new biography of Che Guevara, painting him as the father of modern terrorism. How silly. Did Boeing father 9/11? It seems a perverse sacrilege I don’t want to abide. Shall we say Gandhi was the father of couch potatoes? George H.W. Bush fathered a bastard.