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For those of you who haven’t heard, two police officers were ambushed this week in their police car and murdered by a black man.

I’m sure some of my white friends and family are chalking this up to one more angry black man taking justice into his own hands and all the persecution towards police lately is to blame. And you probably feel that your anger at blacks is now justified. But you know I’m not going to go for that.

Ask yourself this: Do you honestly think black people break the law anymore than white people? You might look at our courts, jails and prisons, and make that conclusion–but you would be wrong. The reason they are there and whites are not, is simply because they are patrolled, watched, harassed, accused, investigated, prosecuted, charged and convicted more. These things are done, because whites see blacks as the enemy: the thieves, the druggies, the gang members, the murderers and the rapists. The sad thing is, whites do all these things as well, but they usually get away with it, or at least, if they are caught (which is not likely, since they are not as vulnerable as blacks to surveillance, and in many cases, harassment), they are not charged (whites get warnings much more than blacks); if they are charged, and especially if they are a police officer, their case is dismissed before even being able to present evidence; if they are tried, they are not convicted; if they are convicted, they are given a much lighter sentence, and rarely prison time, even if their crime was the same crime for which a black man is imprisoned, or even executed.

Another difference, when something like this happens, white people get justice. Their cries are heard. These fallen officers will be honored, and their killer, if he lives, will receive the harshest penalty imaginable. This is because they are white, they are police officers (who can do no wrong, apparently), and he is black, one more criminal to punish, and, worse, a black man that didn’t keep in his place. Only fifty years ago, he would be tortured and lynched, and today they’ll do whatever is in their power to punish him with impunity, making sure this black man, and all black men like him, know their place, and who really holds the power in this country.

You can complain all you want about protests, riots, blog posts, Facebook rants, whatever. But this issue is here to stay, until blacks are treated with the dignity and respect they deserve. They will continue to demand it, and there will continue to be more bloodshed on both sides, until whites take responsibility for their actions towards all oppressed people, all around the world.

Oppression and Violence in the USA

Posted: December 20, 2014 by gsb3 in Essay

This is a repost of thoughts I put on Facebook earlier today. I figured I’d reach a different audience this way…

The United States has a unique and very complex problem with oppression and violence. It is unique because our country is the most powerful country in the world. It is a problem, not only because we use violence to control our enemies, but because our culture teaches us that any violence is always justified towards our enemies, that those in power can do whatever they want to those that are powerless, as long as that person has been labeled as an enemy; and that the oppressed are the enemy, so any violence done to them is justified. Does everyone now see the problem? If not, please read the attached article from Wikipedia on structural (and cultural) violence. I thought it was also interesting that there is no main entry for cultural violence. Hmmm…

http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Structural_violence“>
(Structural [and Cultural] Violence)

Antagony

Posted: December 14, 2014 by gsb3 in Uncategorized

gsb3:

Love this one, as I can relate. Feel this way a lot, really.

Originally posted on Poesy plus Polemics:

"Alter Ego" Painting by Luis Duro From ego-alterego.com

“Alter Ego”
Painting by Luis Duro
From ego-alterego.com

the world next door
behind my brain
mirror images
shimmer the
cranial ether
filling the space
in between us
the distance
dividing me here
from me there
one or both
of us real each
compelled by a
skeptic’s mistrust
turns away from
the other looking
off in opposing
directions of dreams
same but different
shared memories
spiked with conflicting
emotions one mind
with dissimilar
thoughts hiding
hard painful lines
metaphysical edges
the dual jagged blades
of antagony under
a single thin smile

View original

What We Don’t Know

Posted: December 14, 2014 by gsb3 in Uncategorized

gsb3:

Wise words. Perhaps, we need to ask God to change our hearts, so that our minds will be ready to accept where he is leading us.

Originally posted on Wordsmith's Desk:

All too often, we inheritors of human nature, sum up people and situations with less than all of the facts. Even the word fact verses hearsay should be a concern. The news is hearsay, as well as what anyone tells us. How readily are conclusions formed on less than everything there is to know.

Then, there is the one clincher that we haven’t accomplished…walking a mile in someone’s shoes. You see, it’s not what we think we know, but what we don’t know that matters. There will always be blanks in our knowledge, but acceptance doesn’t require knowing with our minds…acceptance only asks us to believe with our hearts.

View original

Hid

Posted: December 12, 2014 by gsb3 in "Unpoetry"

Here buy be see leave
Review leather sop take
Menu map marry lick
Money caring typewriter
Value television ticking
Collapse tarantula giving
Tickle creamer calliope
Eclipse cackle symbiosis
Shackles creepy quiver
Tank top seeking true
Tackle swear create cute
Travail realize swimming
Chocolate cheeks stick
Shallow quick mellow
Racked race continent
Navy nice narrow neon
Knack swallow clinging
Client kickstart twelve
Cracked quad queen
Hero hipster helium
Hello hiccup hairy hid

You

Posted: December 12, 2014 by gsb3 in Poetry

When I look at you,
I see many things.
I see family.
I see all the years
That we have spent
Together.
I see happy times,
And sad times.
I see a soul
That is pure,
Yet broken.
I see a beautiful
Woman,
With an overflowing
Gift for healing,
And an everlasting
Yearning to love
All creatures.
Your generosity,
Your humility,
Your great big heart,
Your creativity,
Your perseverance,
Your endless ability
To improvise and adapt
To every challenge
That comes your way,
Are an inspiration
To me, and to all
Around you.
Please, do me a favor.
Whatever you do,
Keep being you.

Just Love

Posted: December 11, 2014 by gsb3 in Poetry

Love comes along
In the weirdest of ways,
Sometimes.
It might just be
A stranger you bump into,
Who offers a smile,
Or a polite gesture.
It might be a service person,
Who takes an interest in you,
Or even makes a joke,
To liven up your day.
It could be a child at play,
That catches your eye,
Pure simplicity.
God said,
“Let the little children
Come to me.”
We must allow
Miracles to happen.
We can’t let our priorities
Stand in the way.
We must remember
To love,
Every moment,
Of every day.
No strings attached.
Just love.

Tube

Posted: December 8, 2014 by gsb3 in "Unpoetry"

Jury jumping Jewish jingle
Johnny jot jeep jaw jangle
Geranium Japanese gin
Forward fumble few famous
Favorites funky follow
Veer fad fandom fallow
Hick happy horrendous
Hitch humongous hither
Honey hatchet hack half
Inside ill igloo inner impure
Ice if important icky evil
Angel ardor allow any all
Apple acknowledge angular
Every between before crazy
Keeping kill keeper cloud
Zoom zap zipper Zella zoo
Up under ugly tap tube

Slow and Smooth?

Posted: December 7, 2014 by gsb3 in Poetry

Lessons learned
From all the struggles
Of daily life
Contribute to a reticent
Wisdom
That leaks from our mouths
Like so much
Tobacco smoke
Breathed out of ones mouth
After deeply inhaling
A cigar.
Perhaps,
The flavor is less satisfying,
But that depends how often
You’ve done it,
And whether or not
You know how to do it right.
Slow and smooth
Is probably a good tactic,
I would imagine,
But I wouldn’t know,
Since I have asthma.
Funny, I wonder if
I have a corresponding excuse
For not gaining wisdom?

Calling Up the Cavalry

Posted: December 7, 2014 by gsb3 in Poetry

Homeless, forsaken,
Shunned, so hard…
We have no idea
What it’s like, to really
Suffer. Or do we?
Do we live deep inside
Our own private hell,
Every day?
A torture chamber
That we have created,
With all our worries,
Doubts, fears, hates,
Insecurities, nervousness,
Jealousy, lust, greed,
The list goes on and on.
Do we know what it means
To really suffer?
Perhaps, more
Than we’d like to admit.
No surprise, then,
When heaven calls up
The cavalry
To deliver us
From ourselves.
I guess we need saving,
And then some.
And, just think:
I don’t even like to stop
And ask for directions!