Showing posts with label Kokopelli. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kokopelli. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 29, 2014

Why Would The Police Lie?

Three Florida cops have been suspended for allegedly giving Justin Bieber a police escort from the airport to a strip club.  They were suspended because they did not have authorization to provide taxpayer paid services to Mr. Bieber.

A few days later, Justin was arrested for drag racing and drunk driving.  The rental place where Justin got the car had GPS tracking devices on the vehicle and it showed that he was doing 27 mph at the time of the alleged racing.  Furthermore, despite testimony and official police reports about Justin "reeking of alcohol," Justin's actual blood alcohol level was .014 -- next to nothing.  Legal intoxication is .08.  I can't imagine why the Florida police would be gunning for Justin.  He didn't force anyone to give him an escort to a strip club.

In Troy, NY, at the Kokopelli Bar, the police were called, apparently because someone smelled pot, and there was a melee resulting in several arrests.  Granted when 200 people are gathered in one place and several police officers come in wielding their authority there are going to be some smart mouthed jerks.  There were some scuffles and the media reported that several police officers were injured and had to go to the emergency room but were released.

C'mon media, isn't that standard protocol?  First of all, for simple health reasons, second because of workers comp - the officers are going to want to document their bruises if any, and third, in case they can use the line that officers had to go to the ER for community sympathy and additional charges against the defendants.  Leave it to the media to spindle and cherry pick the facts in order to sway the public.

I was once going 45 mph up a hill and a drunk driver operating a large Ryder rental truck was coming down the hill at about 45 mph.  Suddenly he swerved into my lane and we hit head on.  The impact stopped my car dead in its tracks and pushed me off the road, the truck coasted through a few front yards before coming to a stop.  If I didn't believe in guardian angels before, I did then.  I was somehow insulated from all force and impact.  I didn't feel a thing.  I've felt greater G-forces coming to a complete stop at a stop sign.  I got out of my car and ran to the nearest home, banging on the door yelling for them to call the police.  As I ran down to the truck, there was no one in it.  The police said whoever was in the truck practically smashed through the windshield (this was in 1989 before airbags were standard).  We found out later that the driver was drunk because where would a drunk go?  He walked three miles to a bar (undetected by police) where he ordered a beer.  The bartender called the police because the man was caked in blood.  Three police officers tried very hard to convince me to let them call me an ambulance so I could be taken to the hospital to be checked out.  I told them I felt fine but they continued to insist for insurance and liability reasons that I should go.  I resolutely refused.  Being only a mile from my house I walked home.   The point is, it is generally standard policy to get things checked out even if you don't think there is anything wrong.

The police don't like to be talked back to and the law is on their side - as evident in this instance, the town supervisor and police chief are siding with the word of the officers at this point.  The community is up in arms and are demanding resignations and suspensions.  Surveillance video from the bar was posted to YouTube and shows a man being held against the bar by an officer in one instance and then falling to his knees while being hit in the back with a baton. Another police officer comes over to hold the man down as the first officer continues to hit the man.  Police opinion was he that the man was resisting arrest.  It has been tossed around that the only thing some of the patrons at the bar were guilty of was being in the wrong place at the wrong time - and being black.  Their crime was that their ancestors were abducted and sold as slaves from the port of Badagry in that N-word country.  I'm sure the cops are not racist but they should have shown a little restraint when busting into a crowded bar with with a cleintel who have good historical reason to be distrustful of the police.  Sometimes it is more wise to know what not to do.  Both parties are to blame but the police should be held to a higher standard of compassion, control, respect and restraint.  A police response doesn't always have to result in an arrest or beating.  Maybe they should be trained to be peace keepers instead of police officers.   I met a cop once who said when he pulled someone over for drunk driving, instead of destroying their life by arresting them, he would drive them home, impound their car and pay them a visit the next day and if he had to humiliate them in front of his family, he would.  He said that he rarely pulled over the same guy twice.  Abraham Lincoln once said mercy bears greater fruit than strict justice.  It is time for our law enforcement officers to learn this. 

A friend of mine used to room with a cop.  The cop would often steal and collect weapons from criminals and from raids he conducted.  Apparently his wall was littered with an impressive array of illegal weaponry.  What is a criminal going to do, file a report that his illegal weapon was stolen?  Another cop once told me that she used to pad her arrests with peripheral charges just to make the "perp" look bad in court and nail him for everything she could (she is not longer a cop for some reason).  She said that if she told you to stand still in one spot and you shifted your weight or scratched your nose, she would see that as either an attempt to escape or a threat to an officer.  She would then subdue you with any force necessary and if you moved to protect yourself from her nightstick, she could get you on resisting arrest, disobeying an officer and a host of other charges.  She also said that if she couldn't get a "perp" on something, she would at least plant drugs on the guy to get him in the system for "something."  I met her at a church I was working in.  Another confessed to me that when he was a teenager, he used to throw pumpkins off of a highway overpass onto cars.  Ironically, when he became a cop, on Halloween night he was assigned to patrol that same bridge watching for those kids who throw things off the overpass.

"Isn't it ironic, don'tcha think? 
A little too ironic. 
I really do think."
-Alanis Morrisette.

I worked in a Roman Catholic Church where the priest told me he witnessed a DWI accident and someone was killed.  The drunk was a police officer and he was quickly taken care of and removed by his police friends.  There were no charges posted against him.  It was this priest's mission to see this cop punished and he was going to go to the press with what he knew - until he got a call from his Bishop who said "You have three hours to pack up and move to a new parish and you are not permitted to return to that town."  The priest took the hint.  He told me that everything eventually worked out as the police officer completed suicide several months later - "Justice is served." he said.  This priest also gave the most wonderful homilies on grace, mercy, compassion and forgiveness. 

"Isn't it ironic, don'tcha think?"

Here is a fun website to peruse.  There are dozens like it:
Copwatch.org

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

KOKOPELLI


When archeologists first discovered the multitude of cave paintings in southwestern United States, they somehow determined that the image was of a god and this god depicted in the crude drawings was the Native American god, Kokopelli.  Since Kokopelli was carrying a flute, he was deemed to be the god of music.  Others said that he was doing a rain dance so he must be the god of agriculture.  Some surmised that the item Kokopelli was holding was not a flute but actually a blow gun, so, he is the god of hunt.  Many saw the item in his hand as a spear, so, that made him the god of war.  Entomologists said that the picture is actually a crude drawing of an insect.  Then, it was discerned that the thing in his mouth was actually a phallus so he must be the god of fertility.  Frankly, I don't really see how you can get pregnant that way but I don't have a PhD in Archeology.  Finally the archeologists approached the Native Americans, or Indians as many like to call them, and the native chiefs said, "Koko-who?" 

That story kind of makes you wonder how much our world religions may have misinterpreted their history, traditions and scripture. 

Kokopelli in current pop culture is typically depicted in cartoon format with a hunchback, long protrusions from the head-possibly feathers, and a flute. As I mentioned earlier, in ancient depictions it was described as a large phallus, though this feature is absent from most modern versions, as Spanish Christian missionaries in the colonial period discouraged it. Modern images of Kokopelli simply portray the god dancing and playing his flute.  In the consumer world Kokopelli usually appears as a carved, painted, or drawn silhouette and is very popular on clothing, pop art, kitsch and greeting cards.  He has proved to be very lucrative. 

Kokopelli is somewhat of a trickster figure so young and unmarried women would often fear or, invoke him, as he is said to cause pregnancy.  It is rummored that  Kokopelli is able to detach his phallus and leave it in bathing areas in order to secretly impregnate girls.  Maybe virgin birth is not that uncommon in other religions, although, I've read that the word "virgin" in days of old meant someone who was not married, not necessarily that they have not had sexual relations.  But, I don't have a PhD in First Century Middle Eastern Culture.

In some tellings, Kokopelli’s hunchback is actually a sack filled with seeds and babies. In general, Kokopelli is a positive figure who brings abundance and enjoyment of life to his followers.  

Lately, while lounging in my pool, I have noticed that I appear to be putting on weight . . . Oh Kokopelli, you trickster . . .