when i took my mandatory eight hour training session for a NYS security guard license I was taught to fear the box cutter. four hours of class time was spent poring over images of box cutter victims, ribbons of their flesh curling on the floor of the hospital emergency room, their backs segmented like the diagram of butcher’s hock. box cutters are compact and can be hidden anywhere on the body, making them more dangerous than traditional weapons, and the purpose of showing the class these images was to frighten us into inaction. all confrontation should be avoided, lest we become another photo in a folder marked “box cutter-security guards” on Officer Gresh’s desktop. if something went wrong on the job, my plan of action would be to call my allies, the police, from a safe distance. when i arrived in the field it was easy to look the other way because i was the sole wrongdoer. every night i would allow myself and my friends to defile the boats i was sworn to protect in the secluded marina of a sleepy beach town. these were the halcyon days when the police were my friends. they never woke me up, or told my friends to go home on the unlikely occasion that they did pass through on patrol. i never saw their faces, only a friendly hand extended in a wave from the squad car as it passed.
but the cops became my enemy within days of moving to the city. like flies to shit i attracted their attention with my naturally suspicious gait. every offense was minor, and met with basically nothing more than a ticket, while also proving that i was a much bigger pussy than originally thought. i learned to fear the police, understanding that they can respond to any threat with violence, when, ostensibly, anyone can carry a box cutter. this made sense to me. i didn’t like it, but i understood it. when there are many people all around you, even pleated skirts can conceal vagina repositories, so it pays to be especially careful.
besides my ex-roommate nobody deserves to be shot in the street. but the rights that have been egregiously misinterpreted by the police and safeguarded by the law unfortunately explains the death of michael brown.
michael brown was jaywalking on a quiet street in the daytime when the officers drove past him and told him to walk on the sidewalk. he should have humored the officer and walked on the sidewalk, then walked back into the street when the officer was out of sight, but something he did, however slight, caused the officer to backpedal. whatever occurred in their exchange afterwards escalated unnecessarily, due to both parties inability to find common ground. in addition to his color, i believe michael brown’s intimidating size was also unfairly seen as threatening, even if he wasn’t using his body to intimidate. in the grasp of the police, physical struggle by anyone of smaller size would not have been perceived as danger. simply put, if michael brown was a short, skinny black kid he might still be alive. conversely, if his friend stepped in to his defense, they might both be dead.
if resisting arrest as a black man is a cause for brutality, then provoking the police is a death wish. and in this scenario, deliberately disobeying a simple request such as walking in the street has become grounds for provocation.
let’s learn from this tragedy. the police have become more dangerous than their job and need to be emasculated to curb their hotheaded behavior. guns should only be carried by members of the SWAT team, and beat cops should be nothing more than box cutter conscious security guards carrying handcuffs and mace to protect themselves in an emergency. the beat is only dangerous bc beat cops choose to fuck with civilians. drug investigations should be left up to the drug police, gang investigations for the gang police etc. the officers in these divisions have been specially trained to deal with situations bc they have displayed integrity on the beat and/or slight signs of intelligence.
if a cop wants to be on the beat for the entirety of his career they should mind their business and shift their focus on staying alive like the above average intellect of the nation’s undervalued security guards. peacekeeping should mean breaking up domestic disputes, or idk, protecting children and the elderly. the mission should be peace, not fear, intimidation or hatred. if more police need to die so they can develop a pariah persona maybe respect can be restored through sympathy to an otherwise unforgiving, racist and overweight infrastructure. yet despite the impending federal investigation, or any unlikely, positive changes to police and innocent civilian conduct, even the dismissal of the guilty officer, nothing will bring michael brown to life. rip.