After my sterling, Pulitzer Prize winning conclusion to yesterday’s article, if you understood that I have no love for Waco, you’d be right. As a matter of fact, if ISIS were to hit Waco I’d probably just say, “Good shot!” I have reasons for this. I didn’t just pick Waco because I got a speeding ticket there. For all its Baylor University, and that silly bridge, Waco is the most convoluted, screwed up mess I’ve ever seen.
After my article yesterday I did my usual research. As you may or may not know, I’m going to Waco to support the victims of the latest perversion of justice perpetrated by that thin blue line we’ve all come to know and love. I alluded to the “other” little adventure back in ’93 not all that far from Twin Peaks. A place called Mount Carmel.
Now, before I get started I’d like to set things straight. David Koresh was a weirded out soap box preacher looking forward to the end of the world. He had his own explanation for the Book of Revelation. So did Joseph Smith, Charles Russell, Jerry Falwell, and every Pentecostal preacher who ever talked in tongues. When you take a highly encrypted work, in Greek no less, written by a guy who didn’t want to get crucified, that’s what you get. Nowhere in the work does it say, “Jesus will return at seven o’clock, April 16, 2017, right after the nightly news.” It says things like, “Know the signs,” and right THERE is the rub! Early Christians were so busy looking up for the “return in this generation,” that they failed to notice those lions spilling out into the arena for the entertainment of the unwashed masses of Rome. So, for over two thousand years Christians have been pouring over Revelation trying to pinpoint the date, which was EXACTLY what Jesus told them NOT to do. David Koresh was no different. If you want to gain followers just tell a bunch of people that Jesus is going to pick up the mortgage. A little wine always helps.
Let’s be frank. Religious freedom in America is a myth. You are religiously free so long as you conform. You can have church on Sunday morning, and eat fried chicken that afternoon, but if you are Mormon, and bring TWO wives to dinner Uncle Sam will declare war on your whole friggin’ state! And the Muslims rant and rave about how we don’t respect their “prophet,” well get in line buddy. That path to persecution has been well worn by thousands before you! I have observed that when some group claims that God is on their side their will invariably be an opposing group claiming sole ownership of the Deity, leading free thinkers, such as myself to conclude that God simply MUST be bi-polar. Is He? Well, of course He isn’t. Religion is! Religion is man’s feeble attempt to explain the unexplainable. Write that down, there’ll be a quiz later.
All this having been said, was David Koresh any crazier than a Hare Krishna banging those gongs at LAX, begging for change? Well, no he wasn’t. But, the Hare Krishna has one thing going for him that David overlooked. The guy at the airport is in California, and David chose to live in bat-crap crazy Waco, the epicenter of knowledge, mom’s apple pie, and law enforcement who wouldn’t know what the constitution was if it ran up and bit them in the leg!
So, what was so wrong with the Branch Davidians? They believed the end was upon us. (So do the Mormons.) They held to the Old Testament and restricted their diet. (So do the Jews.) It is alleged they dabbled in polygamy. (Allah anyone?) So what was so bad up at Mount Carmel that the United States government had to mount an attack not seen in Texas since the Alamo? Well, them preacher boys had some guns. And they were holed up in a compound built from shipping crates believing when the end DID come that the government would attack Christians. Uh, if you will note, that building ain’t there no mo’!
The right of the people to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed! Even Joseph Smith didn’t have to put up with being told that he couldn’t protect himself. Without going into a lengthy discussion of if David was “legally” licensed to bear arms I refer you to this site:
Please remember the First Amendment, número UNO, says, “shall not be infringed!” So why did David and his band of merry men feel that they needed guns? Could it be that good ol’ “religious freedom” thing, and crazy right wing fanatics out there sending them hate mail on almost a daily basis? You think? Did the Davidians mount a militia and attack Waco? Nope. They fed the poor who dropped by and for the food the guests had to put up with David’s preaching.
If you take a hog, flip him over, and examine those little bumps running along his belly, well, those bumps are far more useful than the ATF! I had thought there were perhaps ten or fifteen agents involved in that attack. There were TRUCKS full!! Old David MIGHT have had fully automatic weapons, the ATF DID have them and charged Mount Carmel reminiscent of the siege of the Alamo. One big difference, though. Generalissimo Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna was a seasoned army officer, and the ATF was a band of fools who got their tails blown off by a bunch of preachers on a Sunday morning! Bad hair day for the DIS-United States! When they embarked on this Tom foolery the federal agents invited the media, indeed, giving some of them rides! When they were begging the Branch Davidians to at least let them collect their dead from the battle field their opinion of the press was, shall we say, “Modified?” When I was reviewing file footage taken right after the initial assault I heard “MFer” so many times I thought I was watching a Richard Pryor routine!
So, here we had the ATF licking their wounds, herky-jerky Janet Reno trying to wipe that omelette off her face, and about eighty religious nuts thumbing their noses from the windows of the Best Little Church House in Texas! Bring in the snipers! There was this one guy. He popped the wife/mother up at Ruby Ridge. Chris Kyle he was NOT! Well, this idiot was positioned as a part of not one but three teams set up to shoot at anyone daring to look out a window. Now, bear in mind, this is STILL a church, and there are STILL women and children within said church. Did these people believe David’s prophesy about the end times? Just look out the window . . . carefully, there’s snipers out there!
It took Santa Anna thirteen days to neutralize the Alamo. On day fifty-two the ATF finally devised a plan to end the Battle of Mount Carmel. They were gonna gas ’em! Hitler would be so proud. Oh, I watched the FBI guy going on and on about “low doses” of CS gas, but I have two problems with that. One, CS gas! You know, that stuff you throw under a tank to make the guys inside puke and exit? Yeah, THAT stuff. Low dose? That’s like being a “little bit pregnant.” The occupants inside the compound sent the women and children to a concrete bunker for safety. The ATF pumped “low doses” of CS gas into that bunker for FOUR hours! I can’t stand a smoky BAR for four hours. And, oh yes, the attackers knew where everyone was because they HAD people INSIDE planting bugs so as to hear what was going on. At one point these spies were even at grabbing distance of David himself but we’re told to “Stand down” because Janet had “another” plan!
Bring in the tanks! That’s right, tanks. Pumping these “low doses,” pushing down walls and, oh yes, firing fully automatic fire from helicopters. Inside we had people who had been deprived of sleep, hungry, cold, restricted to about eight ounces of rain water per day, totally believing that this was the apocalyptic battle David had warned them about. We all know how it ended, and we all had to put up with the government spin regurgitated for YEARS after. There was even a congressional hearing, with all the congressmen showing righteous indignation, and do you want to know what came out of those hearings? NADA! Now one arrest of any FBI, ATF, not even ONE missed paycheck, indeed PROMOTIONS!
So why do I hate Waco? I hate Waco because the Sheriff, police, DPS, and all the rest just stood by and WATCHED this happen! Just like they did on May 17th at Twin Peaks! Just like Mount Carmel they stood by until the situation blew completely up, and then over reacted in true Waco fashion. Two bikers got into a fight in a bar. Some preacher-boy’s paperwork wasn’t in order. See the pattern? The ATF could have arrested David Koresh at Walmart. Four cops could have handcuffed two bikers that day in the parking lot. It’s that simple, but then, I’m just a Simple Ol’ Boy from Austin so what do I know? One image is burned into my mind. I saw, yesterday, an ATF agent after the fall of Mount Carmel holding up a toddler’s sleeper. It was the exact same one from Walmart that my grandson, NewBaby wears! I will NEVER forgive Waco!
How would you like to have a job where there was virtually no retribution for any mistakes you made, the customer was always wrong, and even your most unsupported ideas became locked in stone no matter how unsubstantiated the supporting data was? Welcome to the world of the prosecutor! Cops have a relatively simple job. Arrest people whom THEY think, or have been told, are breaking the law. That’s really all they do, folks. They’re called to a fight, and if one or more of the parties are like, say, black, they just haul ’em down to the ol’ station house and “book them.” Then a judge comes in, tells the infractor what they supposedly did, and sets a reasonable bail (unless you’re in Waco, then it’s your butt!) At this point your fate will be turned over to something called a “persecutor.”
Let me explain what a prosecutor is. Well, first off they are lawyers, and that’s never good. They go off to college for four years, hopefully learning to read, something missed by most high schools these days. People destined to become lawyers have demonstrated a proficiency for lying, so after college they run off to liar’s school. Some folks called it law school, some call it lair’s school, I call it a sling blade, um hum! The reason I say “liar’s school” is because they don’t learn law there, they learn to twist the truth. If just learning law were the case they could just study the constitution and be done with it, but heck, if that was all law was we wouldn’t need lawyers, now would we? Get caught with a gun, whip out the old pocket constitution, show it to the judge (master liar,) read the second amendment, and stroll right out the door. Shucks! Ain’t no money in that! No, lawyers go to liar’s school to learn to look up something call “legal precedents.” Now a legal precedent is a funny critter and there’s a lot of money to be made if you can skin one. Works like this here: Billy Joe Jim Bob comes up for carrying around that gun I previously alluded to. Now there’s no doubt he did it because when officer O’Henry knocked him in the head it fell right out on the ground. (That’s called “evidence.”) Billy Joe winds up in court with the gun in a little plastic bag. Now, like I said, this should be simple. Billy Joe can’t actually speak to the judge because he don’t talk law talk, but he’s got a lawyer and that guy should be able to just read that little copy of the constitution and be done with it. Au Contraire! The prosecutor falls back on a precedent. Some time, way back, a judge made a “ruling”‘where it was figured out that in spite of what the constitution said, it really meant something else. Usually takes a bit of explaining to do, those other lawyers sitting on the supreme court, many months of thought, and about one hundred and fifty pages to explain what that one little sentence in the constitution really meant, anyway, they read it out loud and it became, you got it . . . a PRECEDENT!
Well, that’s what liar’s school is all about! All that prosecutor fella has to do is “cite” that precedent and Billy Joe Jim Bob eats beanie-weenies for one hundred and eighty days, give or take a few depending on if Edna, the county clerk remembers to log him in at the right date. Of course they fine the be-Jesus out of him, the prosecutor and judge split the money, call it a day.
So, this young academic spends three years learning how to chase precedents. Then he has to sit before something called the “bar” and if he can prove he’s a bigger liar than the bunch on the other side of that thing then he gets a license to “practice” law. That’s opposed to “doing” law, you can only “practice” law, what with so many precedents out there, and so many other liars a chasing them no one can ever really be sure what the “law” is so you never commit to knowing what you’re doing, you’re just “practicing.”
So now we have a lawyer. Now a lawyer is not an attorney, or vice versa. Theoretically, a lawyer works for you, and an attorney works for the judge. In reality they all drink from the same bottle at that other “bar” down the street. That all having been said you’d think after all that schooling this newly minted motor mouth would hang out a shingle and get to work for truth, justice, and the American way. Well, most do, but there’s some that just can’t see that. They figure the odds. You see, if you have your own show you have to find customers, and actually DO something, and if your client has anything at all, they’ll pay you to keep from eating them beanie-weenies previously mentioned. Some folks go to work, and some folks head on off down to the welfare office. THAT’S a “prosecutor!” A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, and if that bird’s in JAIL?
So there you sit, innocent until proven guilty in a court of law. Oh, you’re still in jail, and the prosecutor works up a case. Now some cases get dropped. Like say, if you were in Keyna at the time the 7/11 got stuck up in Yuma. There’s about a 50/50 chance the case might get dropped, unless the prosecutor can find one of them there precedents. More than likely you’ll come to trial and youTHINK your lawyer is on your team. Always remember, HE’S not the one in jail, YOU are! If you are the one paying your lawyer you may have a chance, but it you got one of them “pro-bono” fellas, forget about it. Let me tell you what pro-bono is. Pro-bono is where you can’t afford your own liar so the judge picks his cousin to represent you. That pretty much sums it up.
Hopefully you’re free on bail, another real nice money pit, because the judge’s other cousin has a company that will stand good for your “innocent” butt to walk around semi free while all the liars meet at the bar and try to figure out what you’re worth to them. The prosecutor isn’t the least bit interested in the truth. He’s busy stacking the case. If you have a pro-bono liar he’s a gonna want you to do something called a plea out. A plea out is where you say you done it, even though you didn’t, so the judge and the lawyers don’t have to actually work and put in a full day. That and all all the other “innocents” out in the hall waiting to see if their liar skinned their precedent because this lawyer work is big business. To sum the court room up, the prosecutor is not the least bit interested in the truth and the opposing lawyers are not the least bit interested in the truth . . . Wait! That makes them one and the same, now doesn’t it? Yep! Heeeeere’s your sign!
So they go to lying. You may even have a jury. Of course the judge is going to let them know what the “law” is, of course he ain’t gonna tell them about them precedents, he’s still mad because you didn’t plead out and was stupid enough to think you were going to walk out of that courtroom with your shirt. Most likely you’re going to be found guilty, but let’s just suppose, for the sake of argument, something goes wrong and you spit the hook. Now let’s count this all up. You hired your own liar. You gave the judge’s cousin money to wink at the sheriff and get you out of jail. Oh, and when you did get out your boss fired you because everybody knows that if you weren’t guilty you’d never got arrested in the FIRST place. You lived on your wife’s tips for about six months, but,she left you. But you’re FREE! As you leave the courtroom you notice the prosecutor going through his brief case digging out the paperwork on the next “innocent” person being led before his “honor,” and what did it cost the prosecutor? Nothing! Nada, just a little egg on his face and HE has to pay for the first round at the country club tonight when this dog and pony show wraps up. Now wouldn’t it seem more fair that if the next morning that “servant” of the people showed up and on his desk is a nice bill for all your lost wages, your bail, your costs of your liar, and a little tip for your hurt feelings? A date with his wife might be a nice touch. Don’t you think the possibility of that would make this ego maniac dig a little bit deeper before going precedent hunting? Gotta watch them there precedents!
Big events up in MdKinney, Texas! Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m going there, deal with it. I talk a lot about Berry Creek. Berry Creek is an exclusive community with a country club, tennis and golf, and of course, a great big swimming pool. Apparently Craig Ranch North Community is a lot like Berry Creek. First let’s get political.
All this Democratic stuff streaming out of the White House about, “Spread the wealth,” and, “If I had a son he’d look like him,” are all very fine, but you know what happens when you subscribe to that mindset? You get to live in the projects, that’s what! You get to look over the fence at places like Berry Creek, and Craig Ranch, and those people living there pay a lot of taxes to hire police to throw you BACK over that fence should you decide to invite yourself to a pool party. Wow! That stings, don’t it? See, THAT’S why your parents should have worked a good job instead of doing all that crack. Hey, I’m sorry if this hurts your widdle feelings. I grew up in Simmonsville and lived in Berry Creek! All men are created equal, but they don’t STAY equal! In every dog race there’s one lead dog and for the rest, the view never changes.
I’m loving this! I can just see the liberals out there with their hair on fire right now. “Oh Wilbur! Are you saying black kids don’t have a right to swim? Black swimming rights matter!” Sure they can swim. Find a creek . . . I DID! You see, there’s nothing rougher on kids like that than poor white trash like me that stumbled into some money. And I’ll swear before God and five other old white men that when I got to Berry Creek I let them know I was in TOWN! I owned not one, but THREE mansions there, and that gave me three votes down at the club, so when I sat down the board just met! They hated my living guts, but you know what? The respected my right to be there because I’d EARNED it! They knew that we had something on the ball or we wouldn’t be there. Capitalism and the American Dream is so simple. If you rob a bank and get $100,000 the FBI will spend $1,000,000 tracking you down. If you glue two things together that have never been glued together before and sell 100,000 copies of it you get the SAME $100,000 and the FBI comes to your dinner parties. It’s so simple.
Now that we’ve completed socio-economics 101, let’s move on to civics. School’s in suckahs! The kids coming over that fence are only partially to blame. The rest sits directly on the parents. If you have two married HETEROSEXUAL parents in the home, with a high school education, and JOBS, traditionally you get respectful kids who go by the rules of society. If you get people, I refuse to call them parents, who shun their responsibility, blame society, and consider their children accidents who just “came along” they tend to raise kids who crash pool parties where they are not invited! Guests come in through the front door, criminals come over the fence! Swat them uninvited bees!
There’s the bell. Time to move on to geography. Kid pulls toy gun up in Ohio . . . dead kid! Man tried to run away because he owed child support . . . dead guy! Man sells a cigarette on streets of New York . . . another dead guy! Kid shoots her mouth off at a Texas cop during a hyper situation involving dozens of suspects . . . butt whipping! I don’t wanna HEAR about the blankity blank “wild west” any more! When the situation escalated and Officer Casebolt drew his weapon I noticed another officer tap him on the shoulder from behind and say something. And the officer used bad language. Alert the media! In fact they DID alert the media. Like these kids coming over that fence had never heard language like that before. If you believe that have I got a bridge for you, and it’s on SALE! One more thing; in an affluent community, with chaperones all around, could it be that at least ONE of them had a CHL? You think? NO DEAD KIDS!
Did the kids learn anything? Nope! All they got was reinforcement that if you break the law, disregard the rights of others, and act like a fool all you gotta do is break out a cell phone, point to the color of your skin, and the mainstream angels WILL sing! Now people are marching around McKinney with signs proclaiming “Black Lives Matter!” Al Sharpton may even make an appearance. The president may even sign an executive order. Obamapools!
For the last week I’ve been studying police shootings from both sides of the issue. I’ve read court records, viewed dozens of autopsy photos, and watched hours of video, both public, and private. I’ve talked informally with police officers, and “thugs,” and watched at least twenty chiefs of police use the word, “justified,” when confronted by the press, and grieving friends and relatives. In my usual manner I have simplified all of this, and come to some conclusions, some of which may surprise you.
There are not one, but two “oldest” professions in the world. One, as you know, is prostitution. The other is the police officer. Since before recorded history there have always been men hired to protect those who cannot protect themselves. The shop keeper in Rome, who could not lift a sword handily, depended on the Centurion who stood at the ready, so that any woman could safely walk the streets at night. Saint Paul was executed in Rome, as was Peter, but if you will note, they both got there safely. No matter how political, or perverse the Emperor was, the Centurion on the street was very simple and direct. Maintain order, serve, and protect the citizens of Rome. All societies have these men. All societies have a portion of the populace that will break the rules and by brute force, take what is not theirs. While the politicians redefine words, and yes, even lie, it is the police officer who looks the perpetrator in the eye, and in a split second, must make the choice between life and death . . . often, his OWN life and death. They understand this, they accept it.
One of the videos I watched was a security film of an encounter at an apartment complex. There was no sound, but an officer was questioning someone. There was no altercation, the officer speaking, and the other man nodding, both seemingly at ease. Then, the officer points as if to tell the man to step away for a moment, and as he turns, and pulls a note pad from his pocket, the man that he was talking to pulls a gun, and shoots him in the back of the head. THIS is the grim reality of police work! This is why officers are so skittish when questioning even the most mundane of citizens.
It ain’t like in the movies. Remember that statement, there’ll be a quiz later. Clint Eastwood draws his Smith & Wesson, takes careful aim, and shoots a suspect at one hundred yards with a carefully placed bullet, while munching a hot dog. That never happens, and Miley Cyrus will not taking me to dinner tonight. In a face to face gunfight there are dozens of bullets flying and any one of them can put an officer in the same position as that one scribbling on his note pad that day.
Think about this; when you go to work today, about the most dangerous part of your day is your commute. If you are reasonably alert you pay attention to traffic, obey all the laws, and you will hopefully arrive safely at your office with your Starbucks in hand. In a police officer’s world the safest part of his day is the trip to work, and his ambition is to make a safe trip home to his family. Imagine, if you will, that every ONE of your customers may be your last. The police officer never enters a situation unless something is wrong. From speeding ticket to domestic disturbance, most of the people the officer will encounter do NOT want him to be there, and surprisingly, the domestic disturbance is the most dangerous. The officer must enter another’s territory, unaware of the background, or weapons, or drugs and alcohol involved. He may see a battered woman, but be totally unaware that the reason she is battered is because her husband just came home and caught her and her boyfriend. The husband’s entire life plan just evaporated ten minutes before the officer arrived, and frankly, he’s ready to die. Turn the tables, and the woman is not battered, indeed, she called the police, meeting them at the door with accusations of her man being drunk, and loud, and in the dim light the officer doesn’t even see the two black eyes the man is sporting from an abusive, combative wife. He has no idea of who else is in the house, there are loud words, the man of the house picks up his dinner plate with a steak knife still on it, and the officer fires! Of course, the grieving wife gets a lot of attention on the nightly news as she tells what a wonderful father and husband her deceased husband (was.)
Knife seems to play a large role in police shootings. Remember, it ain’t like in the movies. To the novice, it would seem that an officer, armed with a gun, would be invincible to something as simple as a steak knife. I’m going to enlighten you. It’s almost better to be shot. I was a Realtor for a number of years. I’ve measured many homes, and rarely have I seen a living room wider than fifteen feet, most are about twelve. Even our spacious home in Berry Creek was only twenty feet across the main sitting area, the other rooms were smaller. Do the math. The suspect, and officer are more than likely not standing against opposing walls, making the distance much closer. Two steps in and a slash. Now I know you won’t do this, but imagine it, if you will, hanging a pork roast from a door frame, take a common, rather small butcher knife, and make a quick swing at it. The cut will extend from six to eight inches, maybe more, about two to three inches deep. Transpose that to your own torso, and your will quickly see why officers shout rather loudly, “DROP THE KNIFE!” A knife can be much deadlier than a bullet. Again, it ain’t like in the movies.
People believe that when a bullet hits, the person shot will go down, drop the weapon and turn totally submissive. Not so. First off, they’re upset, maybe crazy, drunk, or suicidal. They may not even know they’ve been shot, or if they do, imagine it’s all over, their chips are all on the table, and it’s time to go out in a blaze of glory. The acceptance of your own death is surprisingly calm. When I was crushed between two cars in 1970, I thought I was going to die. Both legs broken, bones sticking out everywhere. From the way I was hit I thought my femur artery was severed, and I knew it took about thirty seconds to bleed out. I began to count backwards from thirty, and when I got to zero, was pleasantly surprised. At no time was I afraid. I figured my ticket was punched, and waited for darkness to fall.
There is a type of wound called, “through and through, concerning an area that rests on either side of your body from just below your ribs about an inch or so in toward your navel. Love handles. Back in the days of the “wild west” outlaws knew that if they were hit there that they could drag a silk handkerchief through the bullet wound and would live. Most likely the bullet would pass all the way through and leave a clean, sanitized hole. Don’t believe me? Check out David Koresh on his video where he’s sitting on the floor at Mount Carmel. See the spot on his shirt? See where he raises that shirt to show where the bullet exited? David was shot “through and through.” I might add that he had the presence of mind to close the door that morning and retreat back into the building.
THIS is the reason for the many shots. THIS is the reason for handcuffing a seemingly incapacitated man. THIS is the reason many officers have been wounded, or even killed by a suspect they thought was down for the count! It ain’t like in the movies! The police must play by the rules of engagement every time, and even one mistake, a half second lapse of diligence can spell disaster. The officer must read the test correctly and make straight “As” or he’s DEAD! Just like the one at that apartment that day.
Do officers make mistakes? Yes. When you combine the many factors in a police encounter the formula becomes astronomical. “Procedure was correctly followed.” You hear that over and over again, and it makes the general public mad. That’s all the police officer has, procedure! He doesn’t have time to reflect, consider, or rewrite the rules, he has one second, and his training in procedure to survive. What should you do if you become involved in a situation involving a police officer? Here’s where I will surprise you. FORGET about your rights, the constitution, and all those things you think you learned on YouTube. Your “procedure” is to convince that officer that you are no threat to either him, or anyone else. If civil rights have been violated there are lawyers for that . . . later! YOU make a safe trip down to the old “PD,” and call your lawyer, call your congressman, call your mother (she loves you,) but you do EXACTLY what that officer says, and you will most likely wake up in the morning.
Now, let’s look at McKinney from the officer’s point of view. Yeah, yeah, yeah, they were kids. Billy the Kid was about nineteen when he blasted sixteen dimes through Deputy Bob’s chest before stealing a horse and escaping jail, I don’t want to hear it! I’ve read all the stuff about there was only one fight between two people, but THAT’S not what the officers came up on. They came into a situation involving dozens of people running in dozens of different directions, NOT obeying lawful orders being given to them by officers of the law! Oh, but they were just kids. Remember that pork roast? A ten year old girl can do that with a pocket knife! “Sit DOWN,” has no other meaning. If a person is sitting down it only goes to follow that it will take him a moment to get up, and harm himself, or others. Did the officer in question get a bit out of control? Well, a bit, but consider this; he’d been chasing, and screaming at a crowd of unruly kids for minutes, and TOLD Miss Yellow Bikini to leave, not once, but THREE times, when she decided to become a Philadelphia lawyer, and yes, she got slammed, and yes, she got a knee on her back. Good MORNING, honey . . . smell that coffee yet? Sure would have been better if you’d just walked away like the officer TOLD you to do! I wish in my life, and many altercations with police they’d told me to “just leave.”
Examination of shootings involving officers are hard. You say, “Well, the man was shot in the back.” OK, but consider this; It’s one thing to shoot someone in the back who is loping across a field, but quite another to fire on a man who WAS running toward you, but decided to turn away at the last second AS the officer was squeezing the trigger. Any shooting must be investigated, but always remember, most police shootings ARE justified, and the only litmus test IS procedure. We have a dangerous mindset developing in this country where the police are automatically suspect in any altercation. It’s becoming a rite of passage to film an officer making an error during an encounter, and most of the time the video is only the so called error and NOT the situation leading up to the event. As a society we cannot forward this idea. We must consider all things and remember . . . It ain’t like in the movies!
Suppose you threw a riot, and nobody came? I’ll be honest with you, for all my talk about how we do things down here in Texas I really thought McKinney was about to fire up. And the mainstream media was working it like a dog on a dead armadillo. Speaking of, you will notice the police chief curled up at the very first hit on YouTube. Now I’m not going to call him names, but when I go to see my friend, Tom, well he’s got chickens, and there’s this stuff that sticks to your feet. That’s the police chief over to McKinney, Texas.
I saw some New Black Panthers strolling across the Tarmac at the airport. I’ve always admired that look. You know, the dark suits, shades, frown, really intimidating stuff. Now what’s funny is they looked just as serious about some chick getting booty slammed as they would if the cops had machine gunned the who lot of them!
“We gotta go to Texas and fight for the people!”
“What’s going on down there? Did some poor defenseless brother get killed for smoking a cigarette?”
“No, some girl got slapped down, and the cop put his knee on her butt!”
“Was she black”
“Get the brothers and book a flight.”
I didn’t notice Sharpton, yet. I was really looking forward to that. I wanted to meet him. I mean, he DOES have a TV show, and I’ve always been a sucker for an autograph. So I sat up last night, drinking beer, scanning the news, waiting for the “guns of June” to go off. NOTHING! Not even one domestic disturbance. I even had the article already done. I just took the one imwrote about Ferguson, and switched the names, dates, and location. HEY! Works for Al Sharpton! But, this story just wouldn’t fly. And Fox News TRIED, oh God did they try. They finally scrounged up the only fool who got arrested and the charges were subsequently dropped, probably at the insistence of Chief Cover Mi Ase. He mumbled something about “helping that poor girl.” That’s when I went ahead and did THIS story. I thought that if I give it enough time something would come about. Maybe not the whole down town, but maybe burn the mayor’s doghouse . . . SOMETHING! Nope.
The Chief said he was very proud of the eleven officers who behaved according to procedures. Ok, dozens of kids running in dozens of different directions while the police trip and flop on the ground. I’m not kidding, watch the video. With ISIS on the edge of the Golan Heights, Iran waiting for its shipment of enriched uranium from the White House, the Chinese going through the US Goverment’s databases like they WORK there, we are all focused on a yellow bikini. Hey, like my Puerto Rican friend, Jay would say, “I ain’t even gonna lie to you,” I was looking at her butt, too. (Lord, I’m sorry I did that, I promise not to do that again.)
All this having been said, they just couldn’t crank a proper riot out of that bikini. For one thing, it’s just too hot to riot in Texas. Up in Ferguson, or Baltimore, you can jump around and act like a fool, but after say ninety-five degrees or so, the energy level goes way down. Uh, maybe that’s why the kids were swimming, you think? Also, McKinney is just a darned nice place to live. Summer just started . . . This is TEXAS!
One more thing. When someone like Al Sharpton takes hold of a “gig” he plays it over and over until it doesn’t sell any more. Sharpton watches the news, waiting for something, anything, that will fit into his race baiting formula. Any time a cop fires his gun, if there is a black person in the STATE, he’ll jump on the next flight and fan the flames of fury, collect his fee, and beat feet back to New York, waiting for the next big thing. With the ashes cooling in Baltimore he was desperate. Then, there it was! An itsy bitsy, teeny weenie, yellow poka-dot bikini, with a big ol’ white cop sitting right on top of it. This wasn’t race baiting, it was race trawling! One problem was, there really wasn’t a STORY here. Chief chickened out, cop quit, charges dropped, and the kids went right back to swimming. The people in Baltimore be like, “A bunch of spoiled brats crashed a Country Club swim party being thrown by some other spoiled brats.” And let’s be honest; that was a beautiful, well fed, well groomed young lady in a very nice swimsuit. I wish she’d crash MY party! Rosa Parks she was NOT! And them New Black Panthers sure did look good, didn’t they?