I Fought The Law, Part I

Pic of the day, part i: The Fates, by Francisco de Goya


Liberty has never come from the government. Liberty has always come from the subjects of the government. The history of liberty is a history of resistance. The history of liberty is a history of the limitation of governmental power, not the increase of it.

Woodrow Wilson, 1912


Eddie never thought of himself as a really violent man.

Strong? Yes.

Ed was a mover, had been one for several years and had gone down to the park where the protests were taking place to be a part of the movement, part of the voice of the people that said “Enough!” He had felt like all the wrong people were in charge of the world, and wanted to stand up and be counted. He had asked himself who should be in charge, and he wasn’t sure, but he knew the people who were in charge were the wrong people.

He was tall, 6’6′ and very strong, this blue eyed black haired protestor. He had just gotten off of work and had gotten his hands on a sign that was laying around. The sign read “Stop Defending the Criminals! Arrest AIG!” He didn’t know AIG from a hole in the wall but that didn’t matter over much. He began to move towards the loud girl who was yelling at someone or other louder than everyone else.

Ed had only been there a few minutes and was still getting his bearings and moving through the crowd soaking it all in. He, after a minute managed thanks to his size to get to that crazy screaming girl who was on the edge of the crowd of several hundred protestors relatively quickly.

As he got there he saw a cop take out his baton while a second officer behind him pulled out pepper spray in front of him on Ed’s left. He was taken aback by this. They attacked the small angry woman wearing the blue bandana and the green flannel shirt in front of him who was yelling at the police and gesticulating wildly at them.

This gesticulating was enough for Officer Pecana who was the part of the human wall of blue in front of her.

He had heard enough.

He didn’t offhand think the protestors were bad in the main.

They were loud. They dressed like dirt-bags. They were obnoxious and stupid. Meaning they were like everyone else as far as he was concerned.

“People suck” was his main viewpoint and his mantra about the human race. He’d dealt with them enough to know that.

But this girl had been barking in his face for the past few minutes. She was 5’5″, as tall as he was, meaning he was short in comparison to his fellow officers. Some of the guys gave him a lot of grief because of it, and a nickname “pequena rana” Little frog because of it. Some of the guys in line with him were going “Ribbit, Ribbit.” in his direction. Messing with him while all this was going on.

And officer Pecana was tired. All that made his fuse, which wasn’t particularly long to begin with, very short this day. Professionalism kept him in check for a few minutes. But that was all he had.

It took Pecana less than a second to swing his billy club at her face. It would have caught her flush on her left cheek had she not had the presence of mind to turn with the blow. Instead the billy club connected with her neck, while the officer behind her sprayed his pepper spray indiscriminately. It hit her, it hit Ed, it hit several other bystanders who were not part of the altercation.

The Cop shouted “Shut the Fuck Up, Bitch!” as he swung the cudgel and knocked her face first onto the concrete. The scream she released as she was hit was high pitched and loud enough to have most everyone covering their ears

Ed was lucky enough to get his clothes sprayed but not his eyes. There are bonuses to being a foot taller than everyone else. He heard the sound of the club strike the flesh of her neck, heard her bark in pain. He saw the girl hit the pavement.

He did what he had to do, he thought.

After officer Pecana hit her the first time, he continued to move forward and was swinging the baton to strike again when Ed stepped in. Ed strode quickly forward and grabbed the club in mid swing with his left hand and stopped it cold.

He felt strange, like he wasn’t in control of his actions, like he was in a POV movie. He had tunnel vision. He drove his right fist right at the officers face and connected. Officer Pecana’s nose immediately broke and exploded on contact. He fell backwards, his hat fell off as he fell, and his head hit the pavement with an audible “thunk.” Pecana was a bloody mess, dazed and out of commission.

With officer Pecana’s baton still in his hand he rounded on the officer who had sprayed the crowd. As he did this four other police officers began to round on Ed as he began to move forward to defend the girl who had been walloped. She lay face down, yelling on the ground, holding her neck, bleeding from her ear. With one step he moved four feet and swung the baton and connected with the second officer, knocking him back and to the right, onto two officers who were moving forward to assist officer Pecana.

To be continued…


Pic of the day, part ii: The Bullfight, by Francisco de Goya


A little group of willful men, representing no opinion but their own, have rendered the great Government of the United States helpless and contemptible.

Woodrow Wilson, 1917


That’s it from here, America. G’night.

Kept Moving III: Finale

Pic of the day, part i: Shikan Nakamura IV as Ishikawa Goemon, by Kunichika Toyohara


These worst mornings with cold floors and hot windows and merciless light—the soul’s certainty that the day will have to be not traversed but sort of climbed, vertically, and then that going to sleep again at the end of it will be like falling, again, off something tall and sheer.

David Foster Wallace, Infinite Jest


Continued from Kept Moving II:

And then he fell unconscious.

And began to shake violently.

The EMT’s sprang to action to make sure he didn’t choke on his tongue.  “It’s a mild one, he’ll be fine in a minute.”  As he held on to the young man  to make sure he didn’t hurt himself.

The wound on his left arm were still bleeding slightly, as was his head wounds.  After the wounds were cleaned the first EMT noted that the wound on his arm was very deep and was the same size as the change slot in a vending machine.  He joked with his buddy “He’ll prolly get a tattoo  just above it, marked “Insert Coin.”  The both laughed

The second EMT got to the job of putting pressure bandages on the wounds where he could as soon as the seizure stopped, which was a scant few seconds.  One of the two policemen walked up and began interrogating the people who had gathered around, and the second group of EMT’s from the second ambulance came over to assist, if they could.

The second policeman walked up to the EMT’s and the young man.  He said “How is he?”  The EMT said “He’ll live, but he’s a mess.  Broken leg, cut up all over, a concussion no doubt, just had a seizure.  He’s out like a light right now.  Wanted him awake so we could get some information from him.  Still don’t know if he was high before he got hit.”

Just then the young man’s eyes fluttered and opened.  He moaned as he put his hands to his face, felt a bandage on one side.  He pulled his hands away and looked at his blood covered hands.  A few seconds later the EMT put a bandage on the wound that wasn’t covered, and began with the police officer to ask questions.

Officer: “What’s your name?”

Bobby: “Bobby.  Bobby… Lane.”

EMT: “Where do you live Bobby?”

Bobby: “Down over on Metro..polit…  Eighty…Ffff…five… Metro…polit, upstairs … apar…ment”

Officer: “Anyone live there besides you?  Anyone we should contact?”


Officer:”He’s slurring his words”  EMT: “He’s a mess. We gotta get him to Saint Vinny’s.”

Bobby fell unconscious for the second time.

Officer: “We’ll get the rest of his information en route.”  EMT: “Let’s get him on the stretcher and in the scream machine.”

Officer: “Scream machine?  Nice.  Think he’s a screamer?”  EMT:  We’ll find out.  Time to load him up”


The two Emt’s got the young man loaded onto the stretcher fairly easily, they bumped it once on the way onto the ambulance.  He had come to some moments before and barked out in pain as he was brought on to the Ambulance.

As the ambulance pulled away, it had to negotiate around the two police cars before it could make it through to get to the hospital.

As it rode down the street at speed with lights flashing and siren blaring with it’s injured occupant and two Emergency Medical Technicians, it ran a red light trying to get to the Hospital.

It was hit at 50 MPH by a speeding Pickup truck three blocks away from the scene of the accident, near the corner of  Coughlin and Metropolitan.  The truck was trying to get through the light before it turned red.

The driver of the pickup truck sustained several broken bones but survived.

Both EMT’s and it’s occupant were killed as the ambulance flipped on it’s side and careened into a warehouse across the street.  The driver was crushed to death in his cab as it slammed into the side of the warehouse.  The second EMT, who was working on young Bobby died almost instantly as the Pickup truck slammed into the side of the ambulance.  As did Bobby.

Bobby Lane was two blocks from home when he died.

The End.


Pic of the day, part ii:  Spring Outing in a Villa, by Kunichika Toyohara


Severity is in the eye of the sufferer, it says. Pain is pain.

David Foster Wallace, Infinite Jest


That’s it from here, America.  G’night.