white people policing

 This story really warms my heart. No, really, I'm serious. It would have been tragically different here, with the boy in handcuffs in the back of the police car, or worse. Policing can be different. Not in this society -- not yet. Not in a system that depends on division and exploitation. Not where money is king and power is white. But we can do better. We are already doing better, just not enough. I'm going to keep building. Thanks for your company along the way.

New Zealand police confirm

toys are cool

WELLINGTON, New Zealand - An emergency call made by a 4-year-old New Zealand boy asking for police to come over and check out his toys prompted a real-life callout and confirmation from an officer that the toys were, indeed, pretty cool.

Police shared audio of the call on social media this week along with a photo of the smiling boy sitting on the hood of a patrol cruiser, noting that while they don't encourage children to call the emergency number, the incident was ''too cute not to share.''

The call begins all business: ''This is police, where is the emergency?''

There's a pause as the unidentified boy hesitantly says, ''Hi,'' and then ''Police lady?''

''Yes,'' the dispatcher says, switching to a friendlier, singsong tone. ''What's going on?''

''Um, can I tell you something?'' the boy asks, and after being told he can, says ''I've got some toys for you.''

''You've got some toys for me?'' says the dispatcher.

''Yep. Come over and see them,'' the boy replies.

A man then gets on the phone confirming the call was a mistake, saying the 4-year-old had been helping out while his mother was sick.

A police dispatch call then goes out, giving the address: ''There is a 4-year-old there who is wanting to show police his toys, over.''

''Yeah, I'm one-up, I'll attend to,'' responds an officer.

Not Racist

 It’s hard to admit, but living in this deeply racist society makes us all racist. To deny it is to be like the guy who says, “trust me.” That’s the last guy I’m going to trust. 

Patriarchy

 

Sacred Ground

The New Orleans power elite and real estate speculators continue to pursue their policy of land-grab and displacement. We have a perfectly unsuitable City Hall building that needs serious attention (most likely by bulldozer.) We have acres of land in the New Orleans East neighborhood that is starving for a major development like a new City Hall. And, most importantly, we have Congo Square. I suggest the article in Antigravity magazine . We could reflect all day on the racist colonial legacy of this city, state, region, country . . . but the point is to hit the streets and liberate the land and ourselves.

 I heard someone on the radio say "When he called to his mother he called to all mothers." I'd like to credit the person, and ask if my edit was appropriate, but I went ahead and printed this card anyhow. Perhaps I just wanted to be included even though I cannot be a mother.

I also had a creepy feeling looking at the image of Mr. Chauvin. First, that name, sounds like "chauvinistic" and there's a connection. We get the word from a possibly fictional soldier in the army of Napoleon who was zealous and unquestioning in support of his emperor in supremacy of the French State. Our current Chauvin has been described as having a "casual, hands-in-pockets" attitude. I see it differently. He is intent, anxious. And his bulging chest leads me to wonder if he is among the many police officers who use steroids to enhance their self image as mighty punishers of the criminal other. I see his hand is thrust into his pants in search of his shrunken testicles, craving stimulation, reassurance that he is the great one, the potent white hero.

I print letterpress for a living. Sometimes I print things on the side that I don't intend to sell, instead I just put them out and see if I can't help push the conversation along. Often as not this conversation would probably not help my business. So, now that there is no place like coffeeshops to drop them, and I want to protect my regular customers from scary thoughts, I turn to this blog. 

Here's the latest. My sister asked how to pronounce "simony" and I said I thought it was long i (sigh-mon-ee), but I had to look it up and I found the story of Simon the Magus, who wanted to buy the gifts of the Holy Spirit. Apostles set him straight, but I say, why stop at healing and speaking in tongues? The air, the water, the land, our health, understanding,  . . .  all these are free from the Creator. And like Woody Guthrie, when I see a "no trespassing" sign I look on the back side. That side was made for you and me.