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Pondering Pig #8


PigNewton

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Thoughts on Police Violence

The popular icon of “Public Servant”, somewhat akin to an anonymous hero prancing in the streets ready to compassionately assist a helpless feline in a tree or indeed hold grandma’s hand as she makes her slow, geriatric race across the intersection, has been seated upon a golden throne of unassailability. But like all thrones, the contents are inevitably usurped under a torrent of fair wells by a royal flush.

 

 The selfless role of a public servant was once a badge of honor and sympathetic respect. These men and women were admired, applauded and praised for their courage and bravery. But exactly what were they being brave in face of? After all, they had vests impermeable to bullets, a firearm capable of obliterating anyone in milliseconds and if there was any doubt of their success, they had an entire fleet of officers ready to come to their aid if things got hairy. The answer is obvious: they put themselves in situations with a significant increase in the odds of being hurt or killed. In fact, a public servant’s role is to put themselves in life threatening situations in place of the public. In other words, their job is to die so we may live.

 

 Of course, what we observe in practice is like pure satire plucked from H.G. Wells or Oscar Wilde: laughable. One imagines walking freely when from the bushes emerge two raving mad lunatics screaming “Get down! Get down! I will f***ing kill you!” pointing their torches of freedom directly between thine eyes. Out of terror, you run with all your might just to hear several loud bangs. Your body involuntarily drops, scraping your face on the cement. You feel mortified and helpless. The two men identify themselves as police officers and say, “Sorry but this is for your own protection.” Protection from what, they don’t say. The implication is you. Police are brave, courageous, selfless, honorable and dignified. And who would ever disagree with these asseverations? Answer: Me.

 

 

 Sagacious men and women aren’t fooled for a New York Minute. We’ve seen how the ever specious media tries to convince the population on a daily basis how much of a threat we all are. Why does everyone feel a deep sense of threat when a stranger so much as asks for the time? The good news: It’s not your fault. Bad news: Now that you know that, yes, it is your fault. There are countless videos available online demonstrating how murderous police have become. However, their justifications for such violence are as creative as they are multitudinous, “The officer perceived a threat.” One must stand in awe of any Chief of Police saying this with a straight face. The single and only explanation is lobotomy.  But here we’ve come full circle. If an officer is justified in killing whomever he perceives has a threat, which is as scintillatingly brilliant as pepper spraying protestors at Occupy Wallstreet to help them see clearly, then where does the public draw the proverbial line in the sand? The public does many things. We suffer, we tolerate, we adapt, we anger, we cry, we hate, we pray, we hope, we examine, we scrutinize, we ignore, we dismiss, we hurt our own interests, we confuse, we despair and we love. The one thing the public can never do is draw lines in tyrannical sand. The reason why we aren't consulted on any matter of political significance is because we don't count.

 

 “But where’s your evidence? Where’s your proof? These are only assertions and opinion making.” Certainly people who hold such questions against me wouldn’t be content to believe in chocolate milk even if they were drowning in it. Likewise, my evidence is the never-ending cascade of video proof, documented testimony and journalistic reports that indisputably illustrate police violence. And indeed many people still don’t believe in police violence. And indeed we are all drowning in it.

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Not to be redundant or lazy, but I see this (police violence) also as a manifestation of the exploitation of Aristotelian logic and causality. Things are either A or not A. There is a Hegelian dialectic hard at work against the common man, as any thinker can see; almost literally and contractually in these "end" of days, we neither determined this path on which we're treading, nor determine where it will go. We can only determine when that will end.

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