Remember when Cops Fired all that #TearGas into THESE Unlawfully Assembled Groups? Ya Me Neither!! pic.twitter.com/5OHHphL5nH ~~#Ferguson
— Rossssc (@rossssc) September 6, 2014
To Serve and Protect or Occupy and Oppress?Since the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001, there has been a steady militarization of police forces in many of America’s cities. This has become increasingly obvious when the subject of dealing with public protests has arisen. Whether in dealings with Occupy protesters a few years ago, or with the unrest caused recently by the killing of Michael Brown (an unarmed teenager) by police in Ferguson, Missouri, many question the use of some of the brutal tactics and military style weapons used by police across the nation. There often seems to be a difference in opinion between police and protesters (particularly when they are dealing with mainly unarmed, peaceful demonstrators who feel they are simply exercising their civil rights to peaceably assemble and speak their minds freely as is written in the Constitution and Bill of Rights), as to what is the appropriate way in which each should act.#TearGas
We have changed though. We now have more names to call our enemies, and far more prowess in killing people. The techniques of warfare are changing, and we seem to be willing to give up some of our cherished freedoms for security. And to tell you the truth, that is the change I fear the most.
Public buildings used to project a community’s vision of itself. In the past this might be civic pride — the New York Public Library — or ambition — the Louisiana Capitol in Baton Rouge, Huey Long’s declaration of modernity.
Public buildings still talk to us, but the message now is not pride but fear and suspicion. The hulking masses, set back from the street, with hard to find entryways protected by heavy bollards and other ill-disguised barriers, send a clear signal — stay away. You can’t be trusted. You might, in fact, be the enemy.
On September 11, 2001, I was lucky. I didn't lose anybody close to me -- except my country and the person I had been before.
There never was a "war on terrorism." It wasn't "terrorism" that crashed airliners into buildings on that brilliant Tuesday morning. The attacks were carried out by a 19-member assault team from al-Qaeda, a terrorist organization then being sheltered by the Taliban regime in Afghanistan. There most definitely was a war against al-Qaeda, and we won.
We all have our own personal stories on 9/11: where we were, what we saw, who we lost. The thing is, I don't know if I necessarily feel like sharing them, just because it's been ten years. It feels exploitative, and wrong. Which is, of course, exactly why we'll be inundated with 9/11 coverage today. Channel after channel, they are going to rehash the tragedy, with all the hysteria and hyperbole they can muster. But will they media take an honest eye to what happened? Will they admit that changed subsequent criticism of George W Bush? 'Course not. We'll have to relive collapsing buildings and sad survival stories and pictures of children who grew up in the last ten years without a parent. Personally, I'd rather watch the Mayles brothers' documentary of the Concert for New York that grew out of the tragedy.
When Rick Perry was asked by Brian Williams in a recent republican presidential debate if he looses any sleep over the executions in his state, this is how he replied: “I’ve never struggled with that at all.” He said it with a smirk on his face, and when he said it his republican audience roared with applause.
Rick Perry has been the overseer of more executions in modern history (234)than any other governor in the United States. And you better believe that he is proud of every one of them.
In his 2003 Oscar acceptance speech, Michael Moore denounced President Bush and the invasion of Iraq. Overnight he became the most hated man in America. In an exclusive extract from his new book, Here Comes Trouble, he tells of the bomb threats, bodyguards and how he fought back