Thoughts On Police Brutality

So…I’m at the gym. The news is on. Generally, something I avoid. In this instance, a five hundred foot screen in front of my face gives me little choice, Luckily, I have my phone playing music and don’t have to listen to the commentary. Unfortunately, closed captioning keeps me updated. Two experts argue back and forth. They are trying to resolve the current issue dominating the airwaves –  police brutality.

Despite my best efforts..I have a thought. As I’m really proud that I had a thought and being that they are so rare I feel compelled to share it with you. I’m thinking, the solution is simpler than these two guys are making it.

You got these people that are out there doing all kinds of crazy things. They’re crazy. They don’t think right. It’s what they do. I don’t want to rid the world of crazy people because they’re fun to watch. I just think there are better ways to deal with them.

So… these nut-cases are doing something crazy, stupid and most probably illegal and somebody calls the police.  As they should. In no time, the police arrive. Looking all bad ass, in surplus combat gear.

Now for a moment, pretend you’re this crazy dude. You’re  bat-shit crazy, doing crazy things.

You’re thinking – Don’t fuck with me. I’m a bad ass too. The thing is if you had a brain in your head, you’d know you’re going to lose. But, you’re not too smart. You start mouthing off. Maybe even take a swing or two. Because you’re a bad-ass.

On the other hand, you’ve got the cops – dressed in black, carrying pepper spray, a stick to crack heads with, ten gazillion handcuffs, a Taser and a gun all hanging from a utility belt that would make Batman jealous. Here’s my thought, if you look like a bad-ass, well eventually you’re going to act like one and crack some heads, pepper spray some sweet old lady or just shoot the wrong guy. Just because…well…the way I figure it if you look like a duck, you act like a duck. Or in this case, you look like a bad-ass, you start acting like one.

So…here’s my solution and I am not taking sides here.  I’m just looking for an impractical solution.

So..let’s just say the cop shows up at the scene dressed like a clown, riding a unicycle and juggling rubber balls.

So…this crazy dude breaks out laughing. He rolls on the ground. Laughing. With tears streaming down his cheeks. His sides hurt. Not from a swift kick to the ribs, but because he’s laughing.  He’s no longer a bad-ass, but just a guy that wants to see the rest of the show.  A crowd gathers. People shower the cop with tips – Of course being a public servant, officer clown must turn the money in. (Added bonus – eliminates need for speed traps.)

 

I hear you saying – there are some crazy son of bitches out there and cops need to defend themselves. Hey…lighten up clowns have a trick flower don’t they?

So…If things get rough,

then …

© Onime | Dreamstime.com - Clown Joke Photo

© Onime | Dreamstime.comClown Joke Photo

 

 

I Show Myself Love….

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Greg Johnson

So…I’m reading this article –  simple ways to show love to yourself.  After overcoming my cynicism, I decide to follow the advice.

It tells me to do something I love Reading a book, comes to my mind.  I read about Butch Cassidy and The Sundance Kid. Then I’m inspired. I’d love to be a bank robber. Be a bandit. Be notorious. Spend lots of easy money.

Say No to Someone Else and Yes to Yourself. I say no to the law, doing the right thing and everything I was taught about right and wrong and say yes to my love of adventure and set-out to rob a bank.

As I plan for the robbery. I realize I need a partner. I need someone to watch the door. Who robs a bank alone ? Butch Cassidy didn’t. Jesse James didn’t. Why should I?  Ask for help…Accept Help.

I enter the bank. My partner in crime, my favorite feline friend, Ichabod watches the door.  I hand the teller a note. It says, “Don’t be afraid. You won’t be hurt. Just quickly and quietly give me all your money. I have a gun.” Now, I could have brandished it. Put it in her face. Scared the living crap out of her. But, I didn’t. I  was being very nice about it, I thought.  As a matter of fact, so did she. “You’re the politest bank robber I’ve ever encountered.” “Why thank you.” I replied.  Accept compliments, especially from yourself. 

I had a great time  spending the money. I’m actually good at spending money that isn’t mine.  Celebrate your strengths.

But all good things come to an end it seems. The police tracked down a few of the bills I’d spent and arrested me. I received a speedy trial. At my sentencing the judge lectured me. for an hour. He chastised me about my loose morals, my inability to see right from wrong and my poor judgement. I have to admit I started to feel bad. believe what he was saying. Then I remembered the advice from the article. Stop Putting Yourself down…Rise Yourself Up!

After which he asked me ” Don’t you feel the least bit of remorse? Aren’t you worried about jail? Are you afraid at all about your sentence?”

“No.” I calmly  responded. “I have freed myself from guilt and fear, all in the name of loving myself.”  Release Worry guilt and fear…All is well.

After sentencing, myself and other future inmates immediately began the arduous task of being processed for prison. One step of the process involved a cavity search. I felt some fear I had previously forsaken (due to following the articles advice) returning.  An experienced convict standing behind me offered a solution. “Best way is to just grin and bear it.” Obviously he’d read the same article. Smile More…..

As the cell door closed and I began my ten-year sentence. I knew I had plenty of time for the last item in my quest to love myself.  Allow yourself time to relax and unwind. 

 

 

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The Deevolution Of Man Returns

ID 45829 © Caraman | Dreamstime.com

So, I’m back.  This time with added security.

For whatever reason and this is the third time for me, someone finds it fun, or necessary to hack into my site change the password and do what?

This in turn prompts me to pick up a hammer and smash things – my computer is usually the first to die, the table it sits on falls next, the walls and television are next in line ( I did learn a valuable lesson after the second time this happened – unplug all devices which utilize electricity or use a rubber mallet for these devices , as the after effects can be hair raising!) After which I look for any object that will crunch, crack, snap or explode as I pummel it.

Pounding on a pillow for example, just doesn’t bring the same relief or satisfaction that I get from pummeling something  that snaps and crumbles under my fury.

batman

 

There seems to be some type of primal urge satisfied by hearing something snap or crunch as one pounds on it.

I suspect this urge comes from watching one too many Batman episodes as a child.

 

Although pounding on something soft and mushy, doesn’t feel as good as breaking a television it is much safer and less injurious to myself. Unless of course that something soft and mushy were to be the lazy asshole that fucked up my site.  Then I suspect that the screaming and begging for mercy would more than make up for the lack of a crunch.

So….more to come.