52. The Ferguson Grand Jury Decision

When Robert “Useless Bob” McCullogh, Ferguson’s favorite public prosecutor, announced that the grand jury would not indict Darren Wilson for the killing of Mike Brown, I wasn’t exactly surprised. Just like I wasn’t surprised when the Republicans won the Senate a month ago. Just like I wasn’t surprised when the Royals lost the World Series. Just like I wasn’t surprised when the ending for Lost turned out to be a crock of shit.

I was not in the minority. You got the sense going into the grand jury announcement that every person supporting an indictment thought the same thing: “We know it’s unlikely, but god dammit it’s the RIGHT thing to do.” Of course, anyone that reads the news or knows basic history knows how often the right thing happens. Specifically, about as rarely as a good Bruno Mars song.

Uptown Funk fucking BANGS

The overriding emotion for me after hearing the Ferguson decision was one of disappointment and hopelessness. Disappointment in a system that, for me, has revealed itself once and for all as aggressively flawed and biased against the lower class. And hopelessness as a twenty something dude stuck in New Mexico (State Motto: Under Construction) with no real position or place to do anything about it except for a WordPress blog and a small army of image macros. The impotent struggle continues.

Over the last couple months since the shooting, we’ve watched the lines in the sand be drawn between our friends and relatives; those in the Brown Camp (believing Mike Brown to be a unarmed, misguided, brash youth that picked a wrong fight at the wrong time)  and those in the Wilson Camp (believing Mike Brown to be a ten foot tall, pot huffing African chaos demon with sledgehammers/guns for hands that could only be brought down by gunfire).There’s no point in the further debate of the innocence or guilt of Darren Wilson. That time has passed. The grand jury already told him “it’s chill, yo” and now he’s off to live in hiding with his shiny new wife in a condo in remote Alaska while getting at least $20,000 in plastic surgery to avoid recognition like any other innocent person.

The new fury, and the thing that drove many people in Ferguson to reveal their secret love for The Talking Heads last night, is what the jury’s failure to even indict Wilson revealed to the American public last night: We do not matter. Our country is one with an education system making our children dumber and less creative, a higher education system whose first objective is to financially cripple and enslave our college graduates, a societal patriarchy that automatically sets itself against half of our population, and a police force to bully, prosecute, and murder the lower class with no worry of repercussion from the state. And that’s the way it is. We can have iPhones and Jawbones and Keurigs and access to thousands of hours of entertainment but beneath this illusion of privilege is something else. The systematic obliteration of the power, rights, and identity of the non-privileged classes.

Today will mark the start of the media’s great Burial of Feruson. Despite the fact that (to date) no person was seriously injured or killed, untold hours and webspace will be devoted to the condemnation and shaming of the “violent” protestor for the destruction of buildings and cars that will be rebuilt in the next six months with insurance and taxpayer money. This is the same media that spent the last two months turning rhetorical gymnastics to minimize the societal and emotional impact of an eighteen year old’s death. This is because the men behind the throne of the media do not want an aggressive populace. They want our protests safe in the form of hashtags and impotent web petitions. The minute someone kicks a chair over in frustration, everyone tumbles over themselves, Keystone-Kops-style, to condemn their actions as overly aggressive.

Meeanwhile, a twenty-eight year old and a twelve year old are also dead in the last 72 hours as a result of police actions.

And these cars will see more media play than either of them.

Today I’ve been reading comments and pundits from across the board talking about how these riots aren’t going to “get any sympathy” for the protestors as if the pundits were disapproving parents (or a Big Brother) and the protesters were petulant children throwing a fit over some spilled milk blood. Pardon me, but exactly what does sympathy accomplish? Sympathy did not stop the bullets from entering Mike Brown’s body. Sympathy did not stir the jurors to indict Wilson. Sympathy, as demonstrated by our culture and government has absolutely no place in the due process of law, the courts, or justice. So why should the protestors, the people who are perpetually at the end of the fiery dick that fucks them on every side, have to play by these arbitrary rules of conduct that nobody else seems to observe?

The answer: They don’t.

In closing, here’s a video of Killer Mike giving an impassioned speech before a Run the Jewels concert regarding Ferguson. Mike has been on CNN (amongst other, more reputable publications) giving insight into Ferguson, race politics, and police brutality since the story initially broke. You watch Killer Mike, the rapper, become Michael Render, the father, in real time as he relates the story to his own relationship with his children that aren’t far from Mike Brown’s age.

I understand many of us are looking forward to the Thanksgiving season in which we will be spending our time with friends, family, and a fuckload of food. But know that while you are enjoying this much-needed time off, that the families of Mike Brown, Tamir Rice, Akai Gurley, and other peripheral victims of our out-of-control police state will be having a much different Thanksgiving.

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