The Time for Being Calm is Over
Tyre King was a bright little boy of 13. It’s a weird age where the playtime of childhood slowly gives way to the tumultuous season of teenagerdom. Perhaps his parents worried a bit, as most do, if he’d remain that smiling spark of sunshine they’d seen grow day in and day out. Tyre was no troublemaker though, had no history of violence, and was in the “Young Scholars Programme” at school.
Any pair of parents would be hard pressed NOT to expect the best of such a child. Maybe during his football games they stood in the bleachers, cheering him on, enraptured with the idea that they’d raised a strong, intelligent boy that would make something of his self, that in their old age they’d be at some banquet, some award ceremony for the kid that exuded promise from the moment he was born.
Tyre King today lies rotting in a Columbus morgue, his young frame riddled with holes made by standard police issue 9mm hollow point rounds. The bullets didn’t just go through him but separated upon impact, shards tearing through organs, muscles, and tissues like a grenade. One can only pray he died instantly, though the only one that will know for sure is the “keeper of the peace” who shot him.
His crime? Supposedly matching the description of a “black boy in a hoodie.” The official reports (for now) allege Tyre was carrying a BB gun. The cop, acting out of “panic,” executed the 13 year old on the spot.
Of course the official story probably means absolutely nothing. We’ve caught cops lying many times.
In August 2014, Ohio police shot and killed John Crawford in a Walmart. An eyewitness called 911 and said that Crawford had a gun and was roaming the store and aiming it at people. That never happened. Security camera footage showed that Crawford never pointed a gun at anyone at all. That witness also lied and said he saw Crawford load the gun. That never happened. John Crawford had pulled a fake gun from a shelf, and simply leaned on it like a cane while he talked to his girlfriend on the phone. Crawford never broke a single law that day, but was shot and killed on contact by police. He didn’t even have time to understand what in the world was going on before he was bleeding out on the floor.
But hey, cops are people too right? They make mistakes. Like they just did in St. Louis.
“St. Louis police have shot yet another African American teen. This time, the victim was said to have been holding a sandwich that looked like a gun to the officer who opened fire 17 times…When questioned about this, Assistant Police Chief Alfred Adkins changed the official police story and said the teen jumped from some bushes and struggled with the officer. The story sounds almost identical to the defense that George Zimmerman used in court, when he was on trial for the murder of unarmed African American teenager Trayvon Martin.”
How about Officer Daniel Andrew who was deemed to have acted in a woman’s safety and faced no charges after there was “insufficient evidence to prove beyond a reasonable doubt that the force he used was unreasonable or excessive” in a routine traffic stop.
Here’s the video. You tell me.
Lets take a quick trip the oh-so-wonderful city of Tampa, a modern pirates den with a long history of organized crime. A SWAT team is searching a house “for narcotics” and in a small bedroom someone refuses to come out. Officer Caleb Johnson answers swiftly, ripping open the door and killing the subject instantly with one round (though people outside heard multiple shots). The raid is lauded as a success. The capture?
Police even admit the man, 22 year old Levonia Riggins, was completely unarmed.
By all accounts the United States is drowning in a sea of blood. More unarmed Black folks were killed by police last year than were lynched in any year since 1923, yet everywhere I turn I’m surrounded by white “Allies” who caution grieving families to “be patient.”
I am tired of this. Really, I’m more than tired. I’m actually absolutely fucking livid and I’ve felt the urge to scream once again into the void.
Consider a recent conversation I had with a liberal friend of mine, someone who calls himself an “ally to the Black Struggle,” a regular at the local protest scene with jet black hair and an erudite manner. We’d been discussing the recent killings over a few drinks and I’d just finished a laundry list of promising lives cut short by a hail of police bullets. All the time he’d been nodding knowingly, agreeing that what we were seeing was truly a tragedy of epic proportions. But what he said next, had I been drinking a bit more, might’ve flown me into a fit of violence.
“When Hillary gets in office, just you wait. She’s going to turn this whole thing around.” I paused for several minutes, waiting for a punchline. My eyes widened when I discovered he was serious.
“Are you…are you fucking kidding me? Hillary Clinton? The same politician that referred to Black children as ‘super predators with no remorse?’“ A cheap laugh rose from his gut, making it very clear I was being regarded as one of “those people.”
“She’s since apologized. And besides, Trump would only make things worse.”
“Worse? Worse like how? Like how Bill Clinton gutted the welfare system and increased the prison population? Like how 80 to 90 percent of all drug offenders sent to prison were black under his term, even though they were no more likely than whites to use or sell drugs?”
“Look,” a patronizing tone laid on as thick as Tupelo honey, “I understand these things are bad and alot of people are very angry. But this is a country of Law and Order. Change takes time. People are just going to have to accept that and work through the system. What we need now is calm and rational thinking.”
Calm. Rational thinking. Black folks are being hunted like animals in the streets while told to maintain the same virtues the police themselves lack. Democrats keep telling them to hold on and Republicans just tell them to fuck off, but Black folks are supposed to sit on their hands and wait for some new Jesus to come down and fix everything.
I looked on with nothing but the most utter and complete disgust as “allies” across the board cried foul when Ferguson and Missouri erupted into violence, yet many are nowhere to be seen when Ferguson activist Darren Seals was found shot to death in a burning car after cops told him to “choose your enemies wisely.”
People are being killed by police for daring to stand up. The solution offered by the “allies” of the Black cause?
Vote. Write your congressman. Buy organic. Hold a candlelight vigil.
Do anything but get militant and start defending yourself.
“Things aren’t that bad!” I hear from someone rolling by in a paid-off SUV bearing a “Coexist” sticker.
Over 7 years and literally thousands of shootings only 41 Officers were ever charged with murder or manslaughter while the Federal Bureau of Investigation reported 2,718 justified homicides by law enforcement.
But hey, things aren’t “that bad.”
I don’t know what kind of strange enchantment lurks in those police uniforms but surely it is one of the foulest magics brought up from the pits of hell. You take a normal stupid person, someone just a little slow but generally okay, give them this uniform and it changes them. And the effect isn’t just on them. Normal, perfectly reasonable people, bewitched by this strange sorcery can literally watch someone being choked to death on camera and somehow rationalize it. They can watch a cop viciously beat a woman in the face again and again, yet somehow it’s okay because he’s just doing his job.
At what point do we say enough is enough?
Everywhere I look “Allies” caution those aligned with the Black Lives Matter movement to remain peaceful, to hold some intangible moral high ground. If a cop gets killed they are told they must release statements about how sorry they are to the officers family, how troubled they are that they have to suffer. After all, the “Allies” say, not all cops are bad. There needs to be a dialogue. We must always consider the emotional needs of the people marching into your communities and killing you.
Such nice people those police officers. Why they even have a few songs to show how nice they are.
“Michael Brown learned a lesson about a messin’
With a badass policeman
And he’s bad, bad Michael Brown
Baddest thug in the whole damn town
Badder than old King Kong
Meaner than a junkyard dog.
Two men took to fightin’
And Michael punched in through the door
And Michael looked like some old Swiss cheese
His brain was splattered on the floor.”
You know what’s the funny thing? What really makes me pee? These “Allies” always demand people “see both sides” but never complain about the farmers in the revolutionary war who took up arms and killed the British over taxes. No, see that was necessary. They never lament the lives of German soldiers who were just “doing their job” that were killed by Allied troops. That was justified. They never waver from “supporting the troops” even though they are foreign invaders that kill children or rape them in front of their mothers. Dare to suggest that we should be cheering on the Iraqis and the “Allies” will gasp in horror.
You know who you never hear your average liberal ally talk about supporting? John Brown, and according to Malcolm X there’s a reason for that:
“If a white man wants to be your ally, what does he think of John Brown? You know what John Brown did? He went to war. He was a white man who went to war against white people to help free slaves. He wasn’t nonviolent. White people call John Brown a nut. Go read the history, go read what all of them say about John Brown. They’re trying to make it look like he was a nut, a fanatic….
But they depict him in this image because he was willing to shed blood to free the slaves. And any white man who is ready and willing to shed blood for your freedom—in the sight of other whites, he’s nuts. As long as he wants to come up with some nonviolent action, they go for that, if he’s liberal, a nonviolent liberal, a love-everybody liberal. But when it comes time for making the same kind of contribution for your and my freedom that was necessary for them to make for their own freedom, they back out of the situation.”
I have looked on these same “Allies” to the Black cause and found them neither hot nor cold so I expel them from my mouth. I spit on your proposals, I laugh in the face of your leaders, and from far away in Florida I find you all guilty of the worst kind collaborationism.
There is a slow motion genocide raging on the streets of America, and its only getting worse, but you’d never know it if you asked an “ally” because being an “ally” is alot easier than actually giving a shit, and it’s sure as hell a lot easier than actually doing something. Why, you can now pay hundreds of dollars to go to college courses and get a nice allyship certificate in anti-oppression. You can go through workshops and receive an allyship badge that lets other “allies” know how awesome you are. You can even apologize for past crimes in front of other allies and have a nice little group hug while having coffee at the local Starbucks, patting yourselves on the back for being so goddamned forward thinking.
When, my dear white “allies,” will there be enough blood to get angry, to become John Brown? How many more children have to die before you start thinking that maybe you might have to pick a side? Keep your flowery language, your beating around the bush, your thoughtful prose about how if only we’d all come together everything would be alright. In actuality, the “grassroots” demands to “please stop killing people” and calls for donations to NGO’s you suggest to the families of the lynched are worth much less than the rotting air creeping out of your lungs.
The FBI released a memo that the Klan and other scumbags have been infiltrating police departments at such a high rate they deemed it a national emergency! Each day brings headlines that make Milwaukee sound like Guantanamo Bay, and if all you can muster is some lame-ass Dr. King quote you read off of a t-shirt one time allow me to trade you another one from Malcom X:
“So if we need white allies in this country, we don’t need those kind who compromise. We don’t need those kind who encourage us to be polite, responsible, you know. We don’t need those kind who give us that kind of advice. We don’t need those kind who tell us how to be patient.”
So hold your marches, keep coming up with pithy protest signs, and by all means fight the good fight by means of a hashtag if you wish to remain spineless. As the untold legions of the dead swarm your home and bring spiritual disease, assure them you did the best you could, given the circumstances, and to cut it out with the whole “undead howling for justice and revenge.”
Remind weeping mothers that while the process is slow it works, for white people anyway, and given enough time it will surely work for them. Probably. And most of all remind the parents of Tyre King that while you understand the pain of losing the light of their lives, it’s no reason to do anything “irrational.”
This is, after all, a nation of Law and Order. There are rational petitions they can calmly sign instead.
POSTSCRIPT: Goddamn, not the same fucking day as this releases we learn new details about how the police have already been caught lying. Spirits at work?
“A 13-year-old boy fatally shot by Columbus, Ohio, police last week was ‘more likely than not’ running away from an officer at the time he was killed, according to an independent medical examiner retained by the child’s family…’Based on the location and the direction of the wound paths it is more likely than not that Tyre King was in the process of running away from the shooter or shooters when he suffered all three gunshot wounds…”
Dr. Bones is a 9 year practitioner of the Southern occult tradition known as Conjure, Rootwork, and Hoodoo. A skilled card-reader and Spiritworker, Dr. Bones has undertaken all aspects of the work, both benevolent and malefic. Politically he holds the Anarchist line that “Individuality can only flourish where equality of access to the conditions of existence is the social reality. This equality of access is Communism.” He resides in the insane State of Florida with his loving wife, a herd of cats, and a house full of spirits.
An essay from Dr. Bones is included in the second issue of A Beautiful Resistance: The Fire Is Here. Click the link for ordering information.