Showing posts with label Godzilla. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Godzilla. Show all posts

Friday, May 1, 2015

What does the George Washington Bridge, The Exorcist and a burned out CVS in Baltimore have to do with each other?

I, like many Americans, watched the city of Baltimore devolve into conflagration last Monday night when bands of young people kicked the hell out of a CVS's ass. The national press descended--as they do, the vultures that they have become--on the city and reported the uprising as if it were an unpredicted natural disaster. A seismic anomaly heretofore never seen in this part of the country. An event so bizarre and remote it could be likened to Godzilla rising from the Patapso River bringing great sweeping destruction and radioactive fire.

We heard anchors use flummoxed words decry "lawlessness" in voice over as images of mostly African American  teenagers plunder buildings, throw objects, smash cars rotated ad infinitum on our screens searing in the message that Black teens are unruly beasts incapable of work, abstinence or self-control. Then like an invading alien force the doors of the mother ships opened and the "on the street" reporters were dispatched to give their lopsided moralistic view points; explaining to those of us watching at home that the problem in the inner city was bad parenting, government free stuff and uppity civil rights leaders. The rogues gallery was all there, from FOX News's Grand Dame of Yellow Journalism, Geraldo Rivera, to CNN's sycophant of White Supremacy Don Lemon. Presiding over this shit show was Jeff Zucker's tarnished dowager, Wolf Blitzer, enforted in the crumbling capital of fact-free news, the CNN World Headquarters in Atlanta. They blitzed the streets with as much bring-yourself-up-by-the-bootstrap rhetoric as possible. Chiding the Black community on its behavior as if Baltimore got that way overnight. Once the video of Toya Gragham dispensing Black Mama Justice went viral I knew all talk of the root cause of the unrest in Baltimore would evaporate only to be replaced with bullshit and conjecture.

Watching the coverage kept making me thinking of the novel "The Exorcist".  When I was in the 11th grade I read the book "The Exorcist" by William Peter Blatty. At that time I had not seen the movie and wanted to know what all the hype was about. Not only was it a great read; it contained one of the most powerful paragraphs ever written. A passage that I actually had engraved on a plaque to keep it on my desk to remind me there is always a reason to look deeper. It is the first paragraph of Chapter 1: The Beginning.

"Like the brief doomed flare of exploding suns that registers dimly on blind men's eyes, the beginning of the horror passed almost unnoticed; in the shriek of what followed, in fact, was forgotten and perhaps not connected to the horror at all. It was difficult to judge."

And there it was.

America was looking at the horror of a burning Baltimore without connecting it to the beginning. Those roots of despair were being ignored. Those exploding suns of poverty, racism, police brutality, mass incarceration never registered on America's eyes because she was willfully blind. Baltimore didn't collapse because Black people were lazy, Baltimore was engineered to be that way. With a fuse as long as the one in an old "Mission Impossible" opening Baltimore had been smoldering for decades.

Police violence in nothing new to African Americans. Whereas Jim Crow laws, the KKK and hordes of white people could lynch at will across the South, the police became white supremacy's muscle in the North and West. From Boston to Milwaukee to Oakland cops have always brutalized Black people living in cities. The police force has increasingly been used to keep America's Black poor hidden from the pristine sight of the white suburbs. Like the dirty children of Ignorance and Want under the cloak of the Ghost of Christmas Present. An American cornucopia that many will never eat from.

The Watts Rebellion of 1965 occurred when angry residents of the Los Angeles community heard that cops had beaten up an African American mother and her two sons after a traffic stop. Twenty-five years later Miami went up in flames when a police officer fatally shot a black man causing his motorcycle to crash killing his passenger, another young Black man. Now, almost like clockwork we have another city burning because a young Black man died at the hands of the police. Yet bad parenting and the dead victim's own culpability seem to always be the culprit instead of America facing the truth: police need to stop killing Black people.

I knew things were gonna get bad when Nancy Reagan first appeared as the face of the "War on Drugs". Clad in James Galanos, as fabulous as she was, a rich white woman, the wife of a president, speaking to inner city youth could only mean one thing: TROUBLE. And that's what we got. The War on Drugs has been a mother fucker to poor Black people. Starting with Reagan-Bush then Clinton, this one law enforcement effort has put more Black men in prison than were enslaved 100 years ago. Bill Clinton, who is affectionately called our "first Black president", should actually be labeled a sell out. His administration paved the way for draconian drug sentencing laws that decimated entire communities.

The War on Drugs was never really a war on drugs. Granted during the height of the crack epidemic in the late 80s and early 90s many people both Black and white felt the need to stamp down on skyrocketing violence. But the War of Drugs was a political tactic. It was used famously by politicians like Rudy "the Ghoul" Giuliani in his mayoral race of 1993 and by high profile police officials like Daryl Gates in Los Angeles. The War on Drugs was coded in such a way that it made white suburbanites feel safe to come into cities like Philadelphia or Detroit, because they knew cops wouldn't let roving Black and Latino thugs attack them on their way to the opera or a hockey game. At that time nobody cared that brown kids who could have been saved with sensible laws--yes Donna Shalala was right--were being ensnared and locked up for decades for low level drug possession. Around this same time cities  like New York came up with programs like "Broken Windows" pioneered by commissioner Bill Bratton, which made it permissible for police to go into neighborhoods and harass/ arrest thousands of young Black men for no other reason except them being on the street.

The War on Drugs was never really about drugs. If it were there wouldn't be disparity in drug arrests. There have been study after study showing that Black people and white people use drugs at the same rate. Yet in some communities like Baltimore Black men are arrested for drug possession at a rate of 100 times higher than their white counterparts. When FOX commentators kept asking "Where are the fathers?" last Monday night I kept screaming "They're in prison you assholes!"

I experienced this siege first hand. When I first moved to New York in 1991 the city was a boiling caldera of drug violence. That year more people were murdered than any other single year in NYC history. For many residents violence from both neighbors and police were a daily occurrence. Something had to be done. So the great prosecutorial savior Rudy Giuliani went into action.

It was the summer of 1995 and I was paying a visit to a friend who lived in the Washington Heights section of upper Manhattan. A predominately Latino, poor community it sat at the foot of the George Washington Bridge. It was hot so we went outside to get a sweet cool treat from a Dominican Icy cart. We noticed a police paddy-wagon and curiosity made us stop and watch. The NYPD had set up a sting operation. White suburbanites would cross the bridge from New Jersey, buy drugs on the streets of Washington Heights then hop back on the bridge and return to New Jersey. But instead of arresting the white folk the cops would only grab the Black and Latino kids. We stood there for about 3 hours sipping on cocofressa and watching in horror as white men and women driving BMWs and Mercedes with Jersey plates pull off and return to their lives in Fort Lee or Paramus or Hacekensack and all points west, with no one ever knowing of their addiction or lawlessness. Yet these young men of color were scooped up and taken away, their lives destroyed in an instant. Just so some politician can claim he's tough on crime. That he rid the streets of thugs.

Last Monday night I thought about those young men I saw go into that police van twenty years ago. They put so many in there is seemed infinite. An unlucky TARDIS. One minute of bad judgement on 179th Street and Broadway, a lifetime in Ossining or Attica. I often wonder what happened to them? Nobody ever seems to know. They are the vanished. Just like Freddie Gray. Nobody seems to know anything. Freddie Gray went into one of those vans alive and came out so broken he died a week later. We don't know what happened to Freddie Gray but according to the news his mother was sorry, his father was absent, he had a switchblade and he was walking the streets of Baltimore looking at cops in their eyes. None of those things are capital crimes unless you are a Black person. So we sit and look at Baltimore burn. And wonder how we got here.

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Its easy to philosophize about life from the safe distance of prosperity


I recently finished Tuesdays with Morrie. It was a wonderful book about a dying elderly professor dictating his last witty aphorisms to his former student, a well respected sports journalist. Morrie Schwartz was affable and generous with his knowledge and affection. Mitch Albom was there to chronicle the last but ever so poignant punctuation to his old college professor’s rich and wonderful life; as Morrie catechizes from his death bed. The chapters tick off the refrain we've all come to recognize as we enter the second decade of a culture suckled of Oprah’s Angel Network and the growing use of sustainable products on HGTV. And that is: to pursue what’s really important: family, friends, love, humanity. Now before you start throwing rotten tomatoes at me for taking a dying man to task over his ideas, I freely admit I agree with the vast majority of what Morrie says. That we don’t miss the water ‘till the well runs dry. So of course when I finished the book I called all my loved ones and even looked up a few old acquaintances. Books, like Tuesdays with Morrie or When All You've Ever Wanted Isn't Enough: The Search for a Life That Matters by Harold Kushner, are designed to elicit such feelings of nostalgia and reverie. To make you slow your pace. Savor the great gift that life is. To laugh a little louder; to kiss a little deeper; to dance a little more freely and to work a little bit less. Like Alice Walker aptly and so beautifully wrote in her Pulitzer Prize winning novel The Color Purple:
“Listen, God love everything you love—and a mess of stuff you don’t. But more than anything else, God love admiration….Not vain, just wanting to share a good thing. I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color purple in a field somewhere and don’t notice it.”

A lesson we can all live by. But here’s where things get sticky. Its easy to philosophize about life from the safe distance of prosperity. Now I’m not killing the messenger I’m just couching his message in the ostensible truth. These words were spoken by a highly educated college professor. Yes he was the scion of Russian-Jewish immigrants and yes he grew up poor in the Bronx, but after 30 years teaching in a prestigious college—Brandeis University is not McBurger University trust me—he was not hurting for cash. The author donated his sizable advance for the book to pay off most of Morrie’s outstanding medical bills. So the end of the professor’s life may have been tragic; filled with the pain and the shit and the phlegm that the great shrieking horror ALS (amyotrophic lateral sclerosis) brings, but it was tidy.

Now again don’t deride me. Alls I’m sayin’ is its easy to philosophize about life from the safe distance of prosperity. I used to work as a trainer in an agency that placed former victims of domestic violence back into the workforce, giving them software training as well as life skills. One of my trainees told me a very touching story one morning, that before coming in to work her 5 year-old accidentally knocked over his bowl of cereal and she scolded him fiercely. Then she caught herself and realized she wasn’t angry because he was clumsy but that she had decided to splurge and buy an expensive brand of cereal with her last $5.00. Now when safety and finances are that immediate proselytizing seems so disingenuous. Morrie stated that human culture was bankrupt and skewed itself to be the antithesis of what it should be. That we behave as if we don’t belong to the animal kingdom, as if we’re aliens visiting this planet. I hear this speech all the time. On the subway, pockets of conversation in Starbucks; we have all become casual anthropologist ready to expound on the degradation of the human race. On how humans subvert this planet. The movie The Day the Earth Stood Still (not the dreadfully wooden and unimaginative Keanu Reeves version but the classic Cold War Era spine-tingly masterpiece with Michael Renny and Patricia Neal) both had aliens arriving to eradicate earth of its biggest threat. Proliferation. In 1951 it was nuclear, in 2008 it was pollution; specifically human. Now this theory is not new. Once when I was a child I saw our man's pollution rise up and attack Tokyo in the form of Hedora, one of Godzilla's best rivals, the Smog Monster. It was spawned from toxic waste and flew across Japan trailing a thick fog of instant death. In the end after a climatic battle on Mt Fuji, Godzilla returns to the ocean with a parting glare at the scientists who discovered the acid secreting monster. I must admit this youtube clip is startling and even more so disturbing what with the latest catastrophe in Japan.



But why must our actions produce an acid secreting monster? If we have indeed evolved, following Darwin's principle of natural selection we are what we are because those are traits most favored for survival. Vis-a-vis man can not be an anathema to the earth AND have evovled to be such. We, as humans, consume. Now granted that consumption like cancer can be twisted out of control. As much as I love the luxuriant despotism of Imelda Marcos, she didn't need--(no matter how titillating a pair of Christian Louboutin 5-inch black patent leather Mary Janes maybe)--3,000 pairs of shoes. Baring excess is it wrong to want more out of life? Is it wrong to want a Mercedes? Is it wrong to want to have an extra room for guests? Is it wrong to have a little grandeur in one's life? I don't think answering yes will break some unwritten code of human ethics. Fine living is not the problem and I'm tired of the intellectual, spiritual or just plain bourgeois being delusory with us peasant classes about the meanings of life having no measure of gliteratti in it. I like a little bit of show-off-it-ness in my life thank you. And that doesn't subtract from my deeper spiritual path.

Sometimes others have a direct interest in our not prospering. Wasn’t Eve seeking truth when she bit of the forbidden fruit? So does that mean curiosity is the original sin? Morrie teaches us with poise and grace to accept what we can't change. Now don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with acceptance. I actually think that acceptance of the inevitable and immutable can be liberating. When we realize—and mostly that realization comes at the end rather than nearer the beginning of our lives—that we have a finite amount of time on this planet and the fallacy of the American Dream of upward mobility (which I discussed here) is concretized, you are freed to pursue what it is you are free to pursue. Unless you are a single mother escaping an abusive relationship and on welfare in a job training program spending your last $5.00 on a box of Fruity Pebbles. So the take away from Tuesdays with Morrie and other books of its ilk is this… work very hard when you’re young. Make a shit load of money then retire early and sit back, enjoy and spread the gospel of a new world order because its always easy to philosophize about life from the safe distance of prosperity. Amen.