Every February, it’s the same old song and dance. White folks huffily complain about the need for a Black History Month, and Black folks counter indignantly that if our ancestors’ accomplishments had not been deliberately excised from the annals of history, maybe there wouldn’t be a need for a separate month to honor them. Even considering the very real strides toward racial harmony since the Dark Ages prior to the 1960’s, that need still exists.
Established in 1926 by educator, historian and activist Carter G. Woodson as "Negro History Week," it was designed as a celebration and acknowledgment of the myriad contributions African-Americans have made to the betterment, comfort and quality of life of their fellow citizens. A high school teacher, Woodson was appalled by the conspiracy of silence keeping blacks out of the history books that he distributed in his class. From engine-lubricating oil to traffic lights to potato chips, Blacks had traditionally been ignored or worse, had their inventions attributed to white men. After all, it was more than reasonable in the white consciousness of the time to assume that an obviously inferior race could not possibly have made any significant contributions to society that did not involve manual labor.
That was all true in the old days, sure, but seeing now that Philadelphia has elected its third African-American mayor, and white folks everywhere are gaga over Barack Obama, you have to admit that Blacks in general have it better now than in Woodson's day, right? The short answer is yes, but it is a matter of the glass being half-empty or half-full. The fact is, whichever way you perceive the glass depends on whether you're the guy who just drank half a glass, or the guy who's still thirsty.
These days, the vast majority of white people know about and are happy to give a nod of thanks to Dr. Charles Drew, the Tuskegee Airmen, Jackie Robinson and the other African-Americans who became, by sheer force of their indomitable spirit, an integral part of American history. They'll go to the stadium and cheer Black players, go to the movies to see Denzel Washington or Will Smith's latest movie, and read books by Toni Morrison or Walter Mosley. Of course, there are still, and probably always will be, die-hard racists who demean the contributions of African-Americans on the basis of pure hatred, but they're complete idiots, and we can ignore them for the purposes of this conversation.
What most white folks don't know is that many African-Americans have an uneasy feeling about the concept of a Black History Month. I know how that sounds, but hear me out. The notion that it's somehow necessary to put aside a month to celebrate what should be common knowledge is insulting on its own merits. The fact that there was ever a need to do so is galling, and serves as a yearly reminder of what white folks thought of us not so long ago.
In that respect, it's a little like affirmative action. You can't get rid of affirmative action without getting rid of the reasons for it in the first place. We'd all love to see affirmative action go the way of the dinosaur, just as soon as everyone is assured that all Americans will finally be treated equally and fairly when it comes to housing, education and employment. If we could be certain that no one would ever again be discriminated against in this country on the basis of race, gender or sexual orientation, I'd be the first guy to put the nail in affirmative action's coffin. And if we could be similarly assured that, henceforth, the books of history would fairly and evenhandedly catalog the whole story, warts and all, some would be just as happy to say goodbye to Black History Month in favor of the true celebration of American History, even the bad parts.
It's almost as if we’re waiting for society at large to acknowledge the simple truth that Black History is American History. They are inextricably intertwined and connected. We were brought here when this nation was a ragtag band of outcasts who barely survived the harsh winters. We built the towns, the roads and the bridges. We worked the fields, tended the livestock, and dug the wells. We invented the elevator, the electric streetcar trolley, air conditioning and the automatic transmission. We also managed to find time along the way to give birth to American cuisine, and American music. In fact, just my writing this column would be impossible without us, since we also invented the typewriter, the fountain pen and the pencil sharpener.
Maybe what we need isn’t a Black History Month, but a Black History awakening.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Friday, February 19, 2010
Mobbed Up
There really is such a thing as a ‘mob mentality’. People in groups, especially large groups, perform acts that not one of them would have the guts to attempt alone. Another curious fact about people in mobs is that upsurge of bravery is always counterbalanced by a significant decrease in intelligence.
I’m referring, of course, to the latest incident of what’s been a “flash mob” of teens roving through Center City robbing citizens, beating innocent bystanders, destroying property, disrupting traffic, and behaving like complete morons.
An estimated 150 to 200 teens descended on the downtown shopping area Tuesday from local high schools, storming through Macy’s and The Gallery before turning Market Street into a snowball and ice-throwing battleground. The crowd turned on pedestrians, security guards, and eventually each other, sending one teen to the hospital after being kicked and stomped repeatedly.
Police swooped in and collared 15 of the teenagers, aged 14 to 17, who were charged with assault, disorderly conduct, and rioting. Think that’s a lot? Consider it this way: about 90 percent of the lawbreakers got away scot-free. Not exactly what you’d call a strong deterrent against future outbreaks.
About two months ago a similar band of roving delinquents, also numbering in the hundreds, did the same thing, and who could forget the fiasco of last Memorial Day, when South Street was flooded with violent teenagers who looted a gas station, carjacked a cabbie, and beat the stuffing out of everyone who crossed their path.
If something happens once, you might be tempted to wave it off as an isolated incident. If it happens twice, well, it could still be just an unfortunate coincidence. Three times, and you’re forced to admit there is a pattern developing.
What we have here, folks, are the makings of a genuine syndrome, and unless we get a handle on it, the potential outcome is not optimistic. What happens when someone dies, even accidentally? What happens when some rookie cop feels threatened by the sight of dozens of teenagers coming at him? What happens when authorities, spurred by a public clamoring for peace and order, institute a “crackdown”?
You know what happens. It’s almost as predictable as the tides.
Parents of the beaten, arrested, and incarcerated will come out in droves screaming everything from racism to police brutality. Never mind the significant role their absence until that point played in Junior’s present circumstance. Never read him a book, never checked his homework or even checked to see that he was in school, never bothered to enforce a curfew - but here they are, howling about someone else’s accountability.
Child advocates and social do-gooders, whose hearts may be in the right place, will nonetheless further exacerbate the problem by assigning responsibility to everyone but the teens themselves. Its society’s fault, they’ll say, and society must change before the problem can be addressed. Society, however, does not shoplift, throw ice chunks at passing cars, or knock senior citizens to the ground. Out of control teenagers do.
As for everyone else, the finger of guilt will be pointed in every possible direction. In turn and by varying degrees, fault will be laid at the feet of the police, the school system, the DA’s office, gory movies, violent video games, rap videos, and the World Wide Web.
There is some merit, though, to the last one. According to sources, much of the trouble gets stirred up on Facebook, Twitter, MySpace, and other social networking Web sites popular with teens.
Every teenager demands the latest and greatest cell phones and handheld devices, fully equipped with web browsing and instant messaging. (When he talked you into buying the expensive gadget, I’ll bet he fed you some line about needing those features to keep up with schoolwork.) In these cases, that instant communication has become a bulletin board for mayhem, with teens linking up times and meeting places to marshal their forces before going berserk.
But blaming social networking sites, or cell phones, only provides a convenient scapegoat while ignoring the actual problem.
Our choices, while limited, are clear: we can set firm standards and strict guidelines for our children’s behavior, applying discipline with love in a long-term strategy for the child’s growth into responsible adulthood; or we can do nothing, waiting instead for the police and the courts to apply their own long-term strategy of turning them into responsible inmates.
Our young people must be made to understand what the teens recently convicted in the subway concourse beating death probably now realize: you may have acted as an unruly mob, but you will serve your prison time alone.
I’m referring, of course, to the latest incident of what’s been a “flash mob” of teens roving through Center City robbing citizens, beating innocent bystanders, destroying property, disrupting traffic, and behaving like complete morons.
An estimated 150 to 200 teens descended on the downtown shopping area Tuesday from local high schools, storming through Macy’s and The Gallery before turning Market Street into a snowball and ice-throwing battleground. The crowd turned on pedestrians, security guards, and eventually each other, sending one teen to the hospital after being kicked and stomped repeatedly.
Police swooped in and collared 15 of the teenagers, aged 14 to 17, who were charged with assault, disorderly conduct, and rioting. Think that’s a lot? Consider it this way: about 90 percent of the lawbreakers got away scot-free. Not exactly what you’d call a strong deterrent against future outbreaks.
About two months ago a similar band of roving delinquents, also numbering in the hundreds, did the same thing, and who could forget the fiasco of last Memorial Day, when South Street was flooded with violent teenagers who looted a gas station, carjacked a cabbie, and beat the stuffing out of everyone who crossed their path.
If something happens once, you might be tempted to wave it off as an isolated incident. If it happens twice, well, it could still be just an unfortunate coincidence. Three times, and you’re forced to admit there is a pattern developing.
What we have here, folks, are the makings of a genuine syndrome, and unless we get a handle on it, the potential outcome is not optimistic. What happens when someone dies, even accidentally? What happens when some rookie cop feels threatened by the sight of dozens of teenagers coming at him? What happens when authorities, spurred by a public clamoring for peace and order, institute a “crackdown”?
You know what happens. It’s almost as predictable as the tides.
Parents of the beaten, arrested, and incarcerated will come out in droves screaming everything from racism to police brutality. Never mind the significant role their absence until that point played in Junior’s present circumstance. Never read him a book, never checked his homework or even checked to see that he was in school, never bothered to enforce a curfew - but here they are, howling about someone else’s accountability.
Child advocates and social do-gooders, whose hearts may be in the right place, will nonetheless further exacerbate the problem by assigning responsibility to everyone but the teens themselves. Its society’s fault, they’ll say, and society must change before the problem can be addressed. Society, however, does not shoplift, throw ice chunks at passing cars, or knock senior citizens to the ground. Out of control teenagers do.
As for everyone else, the finger of guilt will be pointed in every possible direction. In turn and by varying degrees, fault will be laid at the feet of the police, the school system, the DA’s office, gory movies, violent video games, rap videos, and the World Wide Web.
There is some merit, though, to the last one. According to sources, much of the trouble gets stirred up on Facebook, Twitter, MySpace, and other social networking Web sites popular with teens.
Every teenager demands the latest and greatest cell phones and handheld devices, fully equipped with web browsing and instant messaging. (When he talked you into buying the expensive gadget, I’ll bet he fed you some line about needing those features to keep up with schoolwork.) In these cases, that instant communication has become a bulletin board for mayhem, with teens linking up times and meeting places to marshal their forces before going berserk.
But blaming social networking sites, or cell phones, only provides a convenient scapegoat while ignoring the actual problem.
Our choices, while limited, are clear: we can set firm standards and strict guidelines for our children’s behavior, applying discipline with love in a long-term strategy for the child’s growth into responsible adulthood; or we can do nothing, waiting instead for the police and the courts to apply their own long-term strategy of turning them into responsible inmates.
Our young people must be made to understand what the teens recently convicted in the subway concourse beating death probably now realize: you may have acted as an unruly mob, but you will serve your prison time alone.
The Winter Of Our Discontent
The latest, greatest “Storm of the Century” has dropped several feet of winter wonderland on Philadelphia and our east coast neighbors, and it looks as if we’re dug in for the duration. No school, no SEPTA, no airport, no traffic, and only a few brave souls who manage to make it to work.
By the way, these are the same people who endure our mockery and scorn ten or eleven months a year - driving their gas-guzzling, four-wheel drive monstrosities through the city, taking up three parking spots, and snarling traffic by forcing their 15-foot wide behemoths down 14-foot wide side streets.
It is times like these when they get their revenge, wielding their mobility like a sword. Now they alone hold the power over who gets where, and how much they’re going to charge for the ride. They also hold grudges, and remember when you criticized them last summer for hogging the parking spots on your street. So good luck getting a ride to the grocery store now that your sensible small sedan is buried up to the roofline.
Speaking of the grocery store, what is the mindset behind the fascination for milk, bread, and eggs when the forecast calls for snow? My guess is that some bogus study has declared that in times of duress and natural disaster, humans can live for weeks on nothing but French toast.
There are, and always will be, a few foolhardy pioneers in every blizzard who will determinedly dig their cars out and venture forth through the unplowed streets. Two things will happen next: first, they will slide out of control into several parked cars, and second, their cars will become hopelessly mired in the snow, blocking street access to snowplows and emergency vehicles.
This, of course, is only after they mark their parking space upon digging the car out.
In every freshly freed parking spot in Philadelphia, there is a folding chair, a traffic cone, or a couple of old tires. This is more than a simple marking of territory, this is a warning. While it is true that you cannot legally reserve a parking space after you’ve cleared it, woe betide any who dare to defy the warning, move the cone and steal the spot. Two things will happen next: first, there will be a ridiculously overblown argument, and second, someone will be shot.
This same principle also applies to snowball fights, usually with the same results. Someone hits an innocent passerby or a passing car, someone gets a snowball in the eye, or someone packs a little too much ice in the snowball, and you know what comes next.
One consolation to blizzard conditions is the effect of a hard snowfall on street crime. The deeper the snow, the less criminals seem inclined to go out and ply their trade. Maybe it’s just too cold to rob people, perhaps their guns freeze up, or it could be that under these circumstances a fast getaway is nearly impossible. Even if it takes the cops an hour to respond, the bad guy would still only be a half-block away with the loot, leaving tracks in the snow like Bigfoot.
While the incidents of street crime may slow down during wet winters, the trend toward indoor violence tends to rise. Folks get testy after being stuck in the house for days on end, and it doesn’t take much to start getting on each other’s nerves.
Maybe you looked at the blizzard and saw an opportunity to re-connect with family members, perhaps thinking of turning everyone’s mutual confinement into an indoor family vacation. That vacation lasted until Junior refused to shovel the sidewalk, your spouse was caught cheating badly at Uno, and the kids’ began screaming accusations about who was touching whose toys. By now, you’re probably longing for the good old days when your loved ones didn’t have time for each other.
You may want to take a vacation from your vacation. Make sure the kids have plenty of books, art and hobby supplies and take a little time for yourself. Finish reading that novel, blow the dust off that old guitar you haven’t touched in years, or get a jump on your tax returns. It also helps if your house has more than one television.
Soon enough, the snow will melt, the emergency will pass, and the cabin fever will end. Until then, enjoy the fact that a fresh, beautiful blanket of snow covers all the trash and potholes.
By the way, these are the same people who endure our mockery and scorn ten or eleven months a year - driving their gas-guzzling, four-wheel drive monstrosities through the city, taking up three parking spots, and snarling traffic by forcing their 15-foot wide behemoths down 14-foot wide side streets.
It is times like these when they get their revenge, wielding their mobility like a sword. Now they alone hold the power over who gets where, and how much they’re going to charge for the ride. They also hold grudges, and remember when you criticized them last summer for hogging the parking spots on your street. So good luck getting a ride to the grocery store now that your sensible small sedan is buried up to the roofline.
Speaking of the grocery store, what is the mindset behind the fascination for milk, bread, and eggs when the forecast calls for snow? My guess is that some bogus study has declared that in times of duress and natural disaster, humans can live for weeks on nothing but French toast.
There are, and always will be, a few foolhardy pioneers in every blizzard who will determinedly dig their cars out and venture forth through the unplowed streets. Two things will happen next: first, they will slide out of control into several parked cars, and second, their cars will become hopelessly mired in the snow, blocking street access to snowplows and emergency vehicles.
This, of course, is only after they mark their parking space upon digging the car out.
In every freshly freed parking spot in Philadelphia, there is a folding chair, a traffic cone, or a couple of old tires. This is more than a simple marking of territory, this is a warning. While it is true that you cannot legally reserve a parking space after you’ve cleared it, woe betide any who dare to defy the warning, move the cone and steal the spot. Two things will happen next: first, there will be a ridiculously overblown argument, and second, someone will be shot.
This same principle also applies to snowball fights, usually with the same results. Someone hits an innocent passerby or a passing car, someone gets a snowball in the eye, or someone packs a little too much ice in the snowball, and you know what comes next.
One consolation to blizzard conditions is the effect of a hard snowfall on street crime. The deeper the snow, the less criminals seem inclined to go out and ply their trade. Maybe it’s just too cold to rob people, perhaps their guns freeze up, or it could be that under these circumstances a fast getaway is nearly impossible. Even if it takes the cops an hour to respond, the bad guy would still only be a half-block away with the loot, leaving tracks in the snow like Bigfoot.
While the incidents of street crime may slow down during wet winters, the trend toward indoor violence tends to rise. Folks get testy after being stuck in the house for days on end, and it doesn’t take much to start getting on each other’s nerves.
Maybe you looked at the blizzard and saw an opportunity to re-connect with family members, perhaps thinking of turning everyone’s mutual confinement into an indoor family vacation. That vacation lasted until Junior refused to shovel the sidewalk, your spouse was caught cheating badly at Uno, and the kids’ began screaming accusations about who was touching whose toys. By now, you’re probably longing for the good old days when your loved ones didn’t have time for each other.
You may want to take a vacation from your vacation. Make sure the kids have plenty of books, art and hobby supplies and take a little time for yourself. Finish reading that novel, blow the dust off that old guitar you haven’t touched in years, or get a jump on your tax returns. It also helps if your house has more than one television.
Soon enough, the snow will melt, the emergency will pass, and the cabin fever will end. Until then, enjoy the fact that a fresh, beautiful blanket of snow covers all the trash and potholes.
Yet Another Culture Shock
It has been brought to my attention that my column last week, critical of PETA, the People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals, might leave the impression that I am not fond of animals. I am also told that while my righteous indignation included the group’s endless harangue of the Philadelphia Eagles for signing Michael Vick, I failed to mention the team’s (and Vick’s) laudable efforts this season to combat animal abuse.
Both misconceptions are easily remedied. I am now, and always have been, a lover of animals. Over the years, my pet friends have included dogs, cats, birds, fish, and a six-inch tarantula named Clyde. As I write this, Mrs. Butterworth, my overfed calico housecat, is sleeping next to my chair. I just happen to believe that you can be an animal lover without becoming a raving lunatic.
As to my favorite football team, the Eagles rolled out a sweeping plan at the beginning of the season to combat dog fighting and animal abuse in Philadelphia with a slew of initiatives promising to "leverage the Eagles' brand" on behalf of animals, as it has with other causes such as literacy and breast cancer.
An Eagles Web site was launched to promote the program, called Treating Animals With Kindness (TAWK), to educate pet owners and promote local shelters. The team has announced the initial round of grants under its $500,000 initiative to help needy shelters and other humane groups.
For his part, a contrite yet upbeat Vick has gone before sometimes hostile audiences time and again to convince young people to stay away from dog fighting. Both the team, and the quarterback, have done more in the past months to bring awareness to animal rights than PETA’s empty rhetoric has in years.
The truth is, there are some in our community who continue to mistreat and abuse animals in gruesome ways. Just this week, seven pit bulls - including one dead - were confiscated from a North Philly rowhouse when police busted a dog fighting ring. "The area where the fighting ring was found was covered in blood," said George Bengal, director of law enforcement for the Pennsylvania SPCA. A 36-year old woman who owns the house was arrested and charged with felony cruelty to animals.
And you have to wonder what goes through the minds of people like the Northeast Philadelphia man who was arrested last week after he poured rubbing alcohol over a puppy and set it on fire in front of his children. The severely burned puppy, named Rudy by his rescuers, lost an eye in the ordeal, and may lose the other.
These stories are heart wrenching, and if Michael Vick serves as an example of anything, it is that these people should be deeply ashamed of themselves.
And don’t bother to give me that weak rationalization about pit bull fighting somehow being ingrained in the Black culture. I suspect this pathetic defense of the indefensible was probably cooked up to silence white folks. I mean, I’ve been Black all my life, and no one ever told me that the torture and abuse of animals was somehow an essential part of my culture.
As part of a cover story I wrote years ago for another paper, I spent two weeks with dog fighters. I visited their training camps, hung out with breeders and trainers, and witnessed fights.
I was horrified. It was nearly impossible to keep a level of objective detachment, essential for any journalist, while witnessing their acts of barbarism and cruelty masquerading as sport.
Cats, and small dogs like poodles and chihuahuas were used as “bait” for pit bull fight training - literally torn to pieces while the trainers cheered on the savagery. I saw fighting dogs with ruined eyes, missing ears, and stitches across their bellies from stem to stern.
Nothing that I saw during my time with these people was a part of my culture, nor of any culture that I wish to claim. In fact, there’s nothing racially subjective about animal cruelty. Eight hundred years ago St. Francis of Assisi said, “If you have men who will exclude any of God's creatures from the shelter of compassion and pity, you will have men who will deal likewise with their fellow men.”
Your treatment of animals says little about your culture, but speaks volumes about your individual character. Animal abusers are weak, stupid people who know strength only through exploiting the weakness of others.
And that kind of stupidity comes in every color of the rainbow.
Both misconceptions are easily remedied. I am now, and always have been, a lover of animals. Over the years, my pet friends have included dogs, cats, birds, fish, and a six-inch tarantula named Clyde. As I write this, Mrs. Butterworth, my overfed calico housecat, is sleeping next to my chair. I just happen to believe that you can be an animal lover without becoming a raving lunatic.
As to my favorite football team, the Eagles rolled out a sweeping plan at the beginning of the season to combat dog fighting and animal abuse in Philadelphia with a slew of initiatives promising to "leverage the Eagles' brand" on behalf of animals, as it has with other causes such as literacy and breast cancer.
An Eagles Web site was launched to promote the program, called Treating Animals With Kindness (TAWK), to educate pet owners and promote local shelters. The team has announced the initial round of grants under its $500,000 initiative to help needy shelters and other humane groups.
For his part, a contrite yet upbeat Vick has gone before sometimes hostile audiences time and again to convince young people to stay away from dog fighting. Both the team, and the quarterback, have done more in the past months to bring awareness to animal rights than PETA’s empty rhetoric has in years.
The truth is, there are some in our community who continue to mistreat and abuse animals in gruesome ways. Just this week, seven pit bulls - including one dead - were confiscated from a North Philly rowhouse when police busted a dog fighting ring. "The area where the fighting ring was found was covered in blood," said George Bengal, director of law enforcement for the Pennsylvania SPCA. A 36-year old woman who owns the house was arrested and charged with felony cruelty to animals.
And you have to wonder what goes through the minds of people like the Northeast Philadelphia man who was arrested last week after he poured rubbing alcohol over a puppy and set it on fire in front of his children. The severely burned puppy, named Rudy by his rescuers, lost an eye in the ordeal, and may lose the other.
These stories are heart wrenching, and if Michael Vick serves as an example of anything, it is that these people should be deeply ashamed of themselves.
And don’t bother to give me that weak rationalization about pit bull fighting somehow being ingrained in the Black culture. I suspect this pathetic defense of the indefensible was probably cooked up to silence white folks. I mean, I’ve been Black all my life, and no one ever told me that the torture and abuse of animals was somehow an essential part of my culture.
As part of a cover story I wrote years ago for another paper, I spent two weeks with dog fighters. I visited their training camps, hung out with breeders and trainers, and witnessed fights.
I was horrified. It was nearly impossible to keep a level of objective detachment, essential for any journalist, while witnessing their acts of barbarism and cruelty masquerading as sport.
Cats, and small dogs like poodles and chihuahuas were used as “bait” for pit bull fight training - literally torn to pieces while the trainers cheered on the savagery. I saw fighting dogs with ruined eyes, missing ears, and stitches across their bellies from stem to stern.
Nothing that I saw during my time with these people was a part of my culture, nor of any culture that I wish to claim. In fact, there’s nothing racially subjective about animal cruelty. Eight hundred years ago St. Francis of Assisi said, “If you have men who will exclude any of God's creatures from the shelter of compassion and pity, you will have men who will deal likewise with their fellow men.”
Your treatment of animals says little about your culture, but speaks volumes about your individual character. Animal abusers are weak, stupid people who know strength only through exploiting the weakness of others.
And that kind of stupidity comes in every color of the rainbow.
PETA Becoming A Pain
I’m officially sick and tired of PETA, the People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals.
Time and again, these glassy-eyed maniacs have proven the depths of their distain for people in general - and Black people in particular - all in the name of animal rights. Their bullying, shock-troop tactics have alienated everyone but their most fervent disciples, and their nose-thumbing mockery of the historic struggle of African-Americans is an affront, to say the least.
While the world concentrates on rescuing the dying in Haiti, and while everyone from everyday Philadelphians to Gov. Rendell are focusing on relief efforts, the folks over at PETA want you to know that our priorities are all wrong.
From the PETA website (www.peta.org), we get this: “The human death toll estimates are in the tens of thousands, but no one has a clue how many animals have been hurt or killed. We know that you are as worried as we are, so please know that we are monitoring the situation and looking for opportunities to help in case they arise. There is no functional SPCA or humane organization on the island, but we are receiving information from PETA members' families inside Haiti, and we will update you as to how you can help the island's animals.”
Outraged? Not yet, you aren’t. Here’s a sampling from the comments section attached to the above website article. From Jennifer: “I will not help the people in haiti, since they sacrifice animals. I'll donate to peta to help the poor animals.” And from the equally challenged Kim S.: “I see people are still worried about the breeders of haiti. lets help the animals and stop feeding the people. It will just keep them adding to the already overpopulation.”
Grammar, capitalization and sentence structure aside, it’s an interesting insight into what passes for the PETA mindset, don’t you think?
And while you’re checking out their website, get a look at PETA’s latest propaganda video. They’ve gotten an attractive Black actress to strip naked while mimicking a presidential State of the Union speech. I’m not kidding. Standing before a huge American flag, she removes every stitch while touting PETA’s grand achievements of the past year, most notably the organization’s courageous crusade to stop the Lil’ General convenience store chain from selling glue-based mouse traps. Footage of Congress from last year’s real speech, including First Lady Michelle Obama applauding and Sen. John McCain giving the ol’ thumbs up, are interspersed with the peep show. Really. I’m not kidding.
Back in 2005, outcry from the African-American community forced PETA to shelve its “Animal Liberation” campaign, which consisted of 12 panels juxtaposing pictures of Black people in chains with abused animals. One panel showed a Black civil rights protester being beaten at a lunch counter beside a photo of a seal being bludgeoned. Another panel, titled “Hanging,” showed a graphic photo of a white mob surrounding two lynched black men, while a nearby picture showed a cow hanging in a slaughterhouse.
Maybe they should change their acronym to Politicizing the Equal Treatment of Africans.
These are the same folks, by the way, who have screamed loudest at Michael Vick’s return to the NFL, and have hounded both team and quarterback relentlessly since the day the Eagles signed him. When the Eagles traveled to Atlanta this season, a Vick homecoming of sorts, PETA was out in force, yelling anti-Vick slogans at fans on their way to the stadium.
Just last month when Vick was awarded the Ed Block Courage Award - voted by his teammates as the Eagle who has overcome the most difficulties this season – PETA immediately fired off an angry public statement. “The Philadelphia Eagles fumbled when they gave Michael Vick the Ed Block Courage Award,” they fumed. “Michael Vick should not be the person anyone points to as a model of sportsmanship.”
Now this week, PETA has set its sights on Pennsylvania once again. Groundhog Day is coming, and the group has called on the organizers of the Annual Groundhog Day Festival to retire beloved mascot Punxsutawney Phil in favor of a robotic groundhog. You know, like the one in the lottery commercials.
“If Punxsutawney frees Phil,” PETA pleads in its news release, “then the bitter winter that's made him into an unwilling media attraction will end, making way for a sunny spring that everyone can enjoy.”
Clearly, these people are certifiably nuts. That fact, however, does not forgive their misguided agenda, their trivialization of human suffering, and their proven ill regard for Black people.
Neither do I.
Time and again, these glassy-eyed maniacs have proven the depths of their distain for people in general - and Black people in particular - all in the name of animal rights. Their bullying, shock-troop tactics have alienated everyone but their most fervent disciples, and their nose-thumbing mockery of the historic struggle of African-Americans is an affront, to say the least.
While the world concentrates on rescuing the dying in Haiti, and while everyone from everyday Philadelphians to Gov. Rendell are focusing on relief efforts, the folks over at PETA want you to know that our priorities are all wrong.
From the PETA website (www.peta.org), we get this: “The human death toll estimates are in the tens of thousands, but no one has a clue how many animals have been hurt or killed. We know that you are as worried as we are, so please know that we are monitoring the situation and looking for opportunities to help in case they arise. There is no functional SPCA or humane organization on the island, but we are receiving information from PETA members' families inside Haiti, and we will update you as to how you can help the island's animals.”
Outraged? Not yet, you aren’t. Here’s a sampling from the comments section attached to the above website article. From Jennifer: “I will not help the people in haiti, since they sacrifice animals. I'll donate to peta to help the poor animals.” And from the equally challenged Kim S.: “I see people are still worried about the breeders of haiti. lets help the animals and stop feeding the people. It will just keep them adding to the already overpopulation.”
Grammar, capitalization and sentence structure aside, it’s an interesting insight into what passes for the PETA mindset, don’t you think?
And while you’re checking out their website, get a look at PETA’s latest propaganda video. They’ve gotten an attractive Black actress to strip naked while mimicking a presidential State of the Union speech. I’m not kidding. Standing before a huge American flag, she removes every stitch while touting PETA’s grand achievements of the past year, most notably the organization’s courageous crusade to stop the Lil’ General convenience store chain from selling glue-based mouse traps. Footage of Congress from last year’s real speech, including First Lady Michelle Obama applauding and Sen. John McCain giving the ol’ thumbs up, are interspersed with the peep show. Really. I’m not kidding.
Back in 2005, outcry from the African-American community forced PETA to shelve its “Animal Liberation” campaign, which consisted of 12 panels juxtaposing pictures of Black people in chains with abused animals. One panel showed a Black civil rights protester being beaten at a lunch counter beside a photo of a seal being bludgeoned. Another panel, titled “Hanging,” showed a graphic photo of a white mob surrounding two lynched black men, while a nearby picture showed a cow hanging in a slaughterhouse.
Maybe they should change their acronym to Politicizing the Equal Treatment of Africans.
These are the same folks, by the way, who have screamed loudest at Michael Vick’s return to the NFL, and have hounded both team and quarterback relentlessly since the day the Eagles signed him. When the Eagles traveled to Atlanta this season, a Vick homecoming of sorts, PETA was out in force, yelling anti-Vick slogans at fans on their way to the stadium.
Just last month when Vick was awarded the Ed Block Courage Award - voted by his teammates as the Eagle who has overcome the most difficulties this season – PETA immediately fired off an angry public statement. “The Philadelphia Eagles fumbled when they gave Michael Vick the Ed Block Courage Award,” they fumed. “Michael Vick should not be the person anyone points to as a model of sportsmanship.”
Now this week, PETA has set its sights on Pennsylvania once again. Groundhog Day is coming, and the group has called on the organizers of the Annual Groundhog Day Festival to retire beloved mascot Punxsutawney Phil in favor of a robotic groundhog. You know, like the one in the lottery commercials.
“If Punxsutawney frees Phil,” PETA pleads in its news release, “then the bitter winter that's made him into an unwilling media attraction will end, making way for a sunny spring that everyone can enjoy.”
Clearly, these people are certifiably nuts. That fact, however, does not forgive their misguided agenda, their trivialization of human suffering, and their proven ill regard for Black people.
Neither do I.
Prepare For A Shock
Having just watched the comedy “The Hangover” again last week, I laughed aloud when I read this week’s news release from Taser International that the stun gun manufacturer was delivering 1,000 new Advanced Taser X26 units to the Philadelphia Police Department.
If you haven’t seen the movie, there’s a hilarious scene in which the film’s three protagonists are hauled in by Las Vegas police for stealing a squad car. The arresting officers decide to teach the trio a lesson by making them test subjects in a stun gun demonstration. The audience, composed of schoolchildren, then fires the Tasers into particularly sensitive body parts. The kids laugh, the cops laugh, and you laugh along with them.
That’s the problem. We have been effectively taught that Tasers are such a benign use of force that we reduce their effects to slapstick comedy – no more malicious than The Three Stooges.
Taser International, and police forces around the country, are right when they say that the use of Tasers is far preferable to more lethal force. Too many Philadelphians have died by police gunfire for us to overlook sensible, viable alternatives to deadly force. If the lives of civilians and police officers alike are saved by the weapons, I say buy a thousand more.
But let’s not kid ourselves. Tasers are far from non-lethal, and even further from non-injurious.
The Taser X26, which looks like a Star Wars laser gun, uses a cartridge containing compressed nitrogen to fire two small probes, attached by insulated wires with a maximum length of 35 feet. The probes, barbed like fishhooks to keep them attached to the skin, can penetrate up to an inch of clothing, and deliver a decidedly unfunny jolt of 50,000 volts.
When a person is hit with a stun gun, the electrical pulses immediately short circuit the nervous system. Sensory and voluntary motor functions cease, including bowel and bladder control; back muscles spasm, and the victim crashes to the ground in painful convulsions. Thousands of injuries, including concussions, fractured skulls and various broken bones have resulted from the fall alone.
Officers shot with stun guns during training exercises have called the experience “the longest five seconds of your life”. And these officers are held upright by fellow cops to keep them from falling too hard, and are given the opportunity to go to the bathroom first, just to avoid embarrassment.
For a few hundred Tasered civilians, it was also the last five seconds of their lives.
Between 2001 and 2007, the last year for which statistics are available, 277 people nationwide have died after being shocked by police Tasers, according to Amnesty International. About 80 percent of those people were unarmed.
In January 2008, a man died after being shocked nine times with a Taser during his arrest on a cocaine possession charge. The Winnfield, Louisiana, police officer who arrested him was fired and indicted on manslaughter charges.
In January 2009, 17-year old Derick Jones was fatally Tasered by a Martinsville, Virginia police officer. The autopsy revealed that Jones was in good health with a healthy heart and no pre-existing conditions, as well as no drugs other than alcohol in his system.
And just this past April in Detroit, Robert Mitchell, a 5 foot 2, 110 pound 16-year-old with a learning disability, was a passenger his cousin’s car during a routine traffic stop. Mitchell, who had no prior arrest record, inexplicably bolted from the car and led police on a two-block chase. They caught him in an abandoned house and Tasered the boy just once. He died on the spot.
Last month the Ninth U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals in California rendered a decision that sets new judicial standards for police use of Tasers. Because the stun gun had become the weapon of choice for San Francisco cops in dealing with uncooperative drug addicts and the mentally unbalanced, the court ruled that police now need clear demonstrations that a suspect is dangerous before firing a Taser, and not simply because the person is disobeying orders or acting erratically.
In 2007, The United Nations Committee Against Torture concluded, “the use of Taser guns constitutes a form of torture and can even provoke death.”
Stun guns can be an effective tool for police officers if used with restraint, and used by officers with extensive training and good judgment. And if the Advanced Taser X26 prevents just one needless death on Philadelphia streets, it’s a worthwhile investment.
But I don’t think we’re going to get many laughs out of it.
If you haven’t seen the movie, there’s a hilarious scene in which the film’s three protagonists are hauled in by Las Vegas police for stealing a squad car. The arresting officers decide to teach the trio a lesson by making them test subjects in a stun gun demonstration. The audience, composed of schoolchildren, then fires the Tasers into particularly sensitive body parts. The kids laugh, the cops laugh, and you laugh along with them.
That’s the problem. We have been effectively taught that Tasers are such a benign use of force that we reduce their effects to slapstick comedy – no more malicious than The Three Stooges.
Taser International, and police forces around the country, are right when they say that the use of Tasers is far preferable to more lethal force. Too many Philadelphians have died by police gunfire for us to overlook sensible, viable alternatives to deadly force. If the lives of civilians and police officers alike are saved by the weapons, I say buy a thousand more.
But let’s not kid ourselves. Tasers are far from non-lethal, and even further from non-injurious.
The Taser X26, which looks like a Star Wars laser gun, uses a cartridge containing compressed nitrogen to fire two small probes, attached by insulated wires with a maximum length of 35 feet. The probes, barbed like fishhooks to keep them attached to the skin, can penetrate up to an inch of clothing, and deliver a decidedly unfunny jolt of 50,000 volts.
When a person is hit with a stun gun, the electrical pulses immediately short circuit the nervous system. Sensory and voluntary motor functions cease, including bowel and bladder control; back muscles spasm, and the victim crashes to the ground in painful convulsions. Thousands of injuries, including concussions, fractured skulls and various broken bones have resulted from the fall alone.
Officers shot with stun guns during training exercises have called the experience “the longest five seconds of your life”. And these officers are held upright by fellow cops to keep them from falling too hard, and are given the opportunity to go to the bathroom first, just to avoid embarrassment.
For a few hundred Tasered civilians, it was also the last five seconds of their lives.
Between 2001 and 2007, the last year for which statistics are available, 277 people nationwide have died after being shocked by police Tasers, according to Amnesty International. About 80 percent of those people were unarmed.
In January 2008, a man died after being shocked nine times with a Taser during his arrest on a cocaine possession charge. The Winnfield, Louisiana, police officer who arrested him was fired and indicted on manslaughter charges.
In January 2009, 17-year old Derick Jones was fatally Tasered by a Martinsville, Virginia police officer. The autopsy revealed that Jones was in good health with a healthy heart and no pre-existing conditions, as well as no drugs other than alcohol in his system.
And just this past April in Detroit, Robert Mitchell, a 5 foot 2, 110 pound 16-year-old with a learning disability, was a passenger his cousin’s car during a routine traffic stop. Mitchell, who had no prior arrest record, inexplicably bolted from the car and led police on a two-block chase. They caught him in an abandoned house and Tasered the boy just once. He died on the spot.
Last month the Ninth U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals in California rendered a decision that sets new judicial standards for police use of Tasers. Because the stun gun had become the weapon of choice for San Francisco cops in dealing with uncooperative drug addicts and the mentally unbalanced, the court ruled that police now need clear demonstrations that a suspect is dangerous before firing a Taser, and not simply because the person is disobeying orders or acting erratically.
In 2007, The United Nations Committee Against Torture concluded, “the use of Taser guns constitutes a form of torture and can even provoke death.”
Stun guns can be an effective tool for police officers if used with restraint, and used by officers with extensive training and good judgment. And if the Advanced Taser X26 prevents just one needless death on Philadelphia streets, it’s a worthwhile investment.
But I don’t think we’re going to get many laughs out of it.
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