Jay Peterson
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Brooks shooting

6/14/2020

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Normally I wait 72 hours when something ugly hits the feeds.
I'm gonna break that in the case of the Brooks shooting.
One, because I've seen at least three videos three times each, enough to convince myself.
Two, because it didn't happen in my backyard so much as down the road from a dear friend's old house.
And Three, because, eerily enough, I described the exact scenario I think happened a day or two before it did.
I've long described police firearms training as a joke, usually to some gungrabber demanding the hoi polloi be trained so they can say, "we just want common sense regulation" with a straight face.
Not so much, freedom hater. Annual quals are a fucking joke. But at least they're relatively consistent across departments. Unarmed, not so much.
Which means that how effective a given department's officers are is determined by the department's training budget priorities and the individual efforts of its officers.
Which brings in the adage, "You don't rise to the occasion, you fall to the level of your training."
Conflict training, like any other, has levels to it. And how many levels you reach depends on how many you're encouraged to and how many you seek on your own.
At the bottom you find things like, "make sure you go home at the end of the night."
Good advice, but not impressive, especially to someone who's supposed to be wearing a shield.
Another one goes something like, "Losing control and getting it back is a lot harder than never losing it in the first place."
Also true, but unfortunately limiting.
Which leads me to a few days ago.
I mentioned that in reading a lot from retired cops over the years, something I noticed was a reluctance of younger officers to go hand to hand or pursue further training.
Reasoning? Getting better in hand to hand involves getting the occasional ass kicking. Getting your ass kicked is a noted loss of control. And losing control in the presence of others, much less others who already are trained and could be citizens you need to control tomorrow? Well, that's just unacceptable.
So training doesn't happen. And sinking to that level means you go for the first level on the force continuum you're sure you won't lose.
Cue a Wendy's drive-through the other night. A drunk Brooks passes out while behind the wheel in line. Pulled over for a sobriety test, blows a .108. Brooks realizes he's being arrested and starts fighting. Two cops go to ground, fail to restrain, and one fails to retain a taser. Brooks takes off running with said taser. One cop, from three car lengths away, shoots him in the back with a service pistol.
Control lost, no training to fall back on, panic, and bare minimum, manslaughter.
I don't know what APD uses as a threat assessment model, but running away drunk with a taser sure as fuck doesn't pass AOI. What did they think he was going to do, steal and jumpstart a Tesla?
The officer who shot Brooks has been fired, Chief Shields has resigned, too early to see what charges will be filed.
And some moron burned down the Wendys in question. Y'know, because that area needed to be more of a food desert.
(Yeah, I've seen video of the white girl spraying something into the already burning building. If you got a name, face, and affiliation, fine. Otherwise, keep your theories to yourself. I wouldn't put it past Antifa, but I'd more easily believe some bratty anarchist white chick with daddy's lawyer looking to break stuff along with the monotony. White supremacists may have more motivation than antifa, but I don't see them capable of blending into a crowd of protesters like ninjas to commit arson. Met any white supremacists? I mean real ones, not just bystanding Republicans that dared be further right than Ron Paul in your presence? They're overeducated, undersocialized, incel losers, not the fucking foot clan. End aside.)
Right now my best guess is the officer will be charged with voluntary manslaughter (Georgia doesn't differentiate murder charges by degrees). There's a lot I don't know (the training record of the officer, the standards of his department and zone) but that's my best guess.
Stay safe out there.
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Mean what you say

6/9/2020

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"Defund the police doesn't mean..."
Then. Stop. Saying. It.
Words fucking mean things and language evolves over years, not hours.
Sweet Daddy Odin and all the little valkyries, twitter's fucking old 140 character limit did this. Fucking encouraged complex social concepts to be boiled down into sentence fragments that were inaccurate but fit into a hashtag, spawning little motte-and-bailey arguments as you go.
It only encourages the drooling idiots who actually DO want to do what the hashtag says, and it makes potential allies (who in many cases agree with the underlying primary reform ideas) think the hashtag users are simplistic fools at best, malicious liars at worst. And let's be honest, fucking NOBODY is being taken at their word these days. So quit giving people reasons not to trust good ideas.
Use words the way they currently mean, or watch good ideas with badly composed hashtags die.
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On policing...

6/8/2020

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1. To prevent crime and disorder, as an alternative to their repression by military force and severity of legal punishment.
2. To recognise always that the power of the police to fulfill their functions and duties is dependent on public approval of their existence, actions and behaviour, and on their ability to secure and maintain public respect.
3. To recognise always that to secure and maintain the respect and approval of the public means also the securing of the willing co-operation of the public in the task of securing observance of laws.
4. To recognise always that the extent to which the co-operation of the public can be secured diminishes proportionately the necessity of the use of physical force and compulsion for achieving police objectives.
5. To seek and preserve public favour, not by pandering to public opinion, but by constantly demonstrating absolutely impartial service to law, in complete independence of policy, and without regard to the justice or injustice of the substance of individual laws, by ready offering of individual service and friendship to all members of the public without regard to their wealth or social standing, by ready exercise of courtesy and friendly good humour, and by ready offering of individual sacrifice in protecting and preserving life.
6. To use physical force only when the exercise of persuasion, advice and warning is found to be insufficient to obtain public co-operation to an extent necessary to secure observance of law or to restore order, and to use only the minimum degree of physical force which is necessary on any particular occasion for achieving a police objective.
7. To maintain at all times a relationship with the public that gives reality to the historic tradition that the police are the public and that the public are the police, the police being only members of the public who are paid to give full-time attention to duties which are incumbent on every citizen in the interests of community welfare and existence.
8. To recognise always the need for strict adherence to police-executive functions, and to refrain from even seeming to usurp the powers of the judiciary, of avenging individuals or the State, and of authoritatively judging guilt and punishing the guilty.
9. To recognise always that the test of police efficiency is the absence of crime and disorder, and not the visible evidence of police action in dealing with them.
- Sir Robert Peel,
Founder, Metropolitan Police, London.
c. 1829
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Cops need a recommended reading list

6/8/2020

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After some looking, I have yet to find a police academy with a required reading list.
POST (Peace Officer Standards & Training) has a police leadership development reading list, but it's a bit anemic and even counterproductive in places. It includes The Killer Angels (which, while a great book, belongs on a soldier's reading list, not a cop's.).
It also includes (Gugh) On Killing but not On Combat. Therefore it keeps Grossman's thirty-year-old data that he still fucking preaches live AND his bullshit Sheepdog theory, but doesn't include On Combat's in-depth discussion of stress reactions and aftermath of a violent encounter.
Bare minimum, I'd add in Sebastian Junger's Tribe as well as Terry Pratchett's Watch series (Guards! Guards!, Jingo, Thud, Night Watch, and Snuff at the very least).
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Tribing

6/5/2020

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I've come to realize something, in the midst of the interesting times we seem to be caught up in.
I don't particularly "tribe" well.
I mean, I knew it. But I don't think I realized how much until relatively recently.
(I'm going to include an uncharacteristically rude disclaimer here. If in reading you're spurred to respond with a whatabout, a whatif, a you need to realize, or, gods help you, a don't you want to, scroll on past and take it elsewhere. My boundaries have gained a few reactive layers recently. And while I'm not unwilling to tell people I like to do something anatomically uncomfortable, I'd rather not make it a habit. Cheers.)
I think I started noticing from all the tribing going on, as fast and furious as the events that keep on shocking this particular episode of 2020. The fast and furious cries for allegiance, changing by the hour and contradicting each other by the minute.
Declare your allegiance here,
show your support there,
shut up and let other voices speak,
why aren't you talking?
We judge you for that.
And that.
Oh, yeah, and that too.
(It's the "silence means consent" banner waving that really gives me the willies. Seriously, have you lot stopped for one minute to think about how rapey you sound? Creepy. And that's even if the phrase wasn't bullshit back when Cromwell used it to railroad More all the way to the gallows and still bullshit today. Creepy bullshit.)
I'm bad enough at tribing when the rules are clear and consistent, or try to be. Too neutral good. Too chaotic to go for loyalty over honor, too lawful to break taboos for the hell of it.
I didn't manage it in the Corps. I was nobody's idea of a stellar Marine, had some espirit de corps issues, and was too stubborn to hide it. Without picking at too many scars, let's just say I wound up in an armory for reasons.
I still couldn't tell you why I extended my contract three months to go to Afghanistan when I firmly planned to finish my first enlistment and leave. Maybe it was the bonus money, maybe a workup and deployment sounded better than whatever bullshit work details I'd be doing with the sick, lame, and lazy at Lejeune, maybe I wanted to go with a handful of people I'd dropped to the fleet with one more time. But even earning bloodstripes and tangling with genius was too little, too late.
I convinced myself it was for the best. Especially a few years later, when better Marines than me were shown the door in the post-Iraq drawdowns.
Then there was the theater, and I've already gone on about how that pile of good intentions and youthful energy turned into fair-weather friends and the resume of a minor Batman villain.
I get along with individuals, couples, small groups just fine. But any group too big to sit at the same table at Denny's finds a common cause and I start scanning for the exits.
Twice bitten and tribeless. When the tribes are demanding more every day. To their detriment, I think. Nobody else seems to bother stopping to think about it.
"Why aren't you declaring?! People like you would've turned in Anne Frank!"
"Riiiight. Because Miep, Kraler, and Koophuis shouted what they were doing to the crowd from their front doorstep every fucking night. Keep rolling with that."
I've always hated exclusivity. I was always the big guy. But I was also the big, awkward, quiet kid. If I wasn't being left out, I knew some poor fucker that was. Often, THE poor fucker that was. To this day, VIP sections make me uncomfortable. Even if I'm there on business and don't know anyone else, I can almost feel some poor bastard being left out.
A silly worry, maybe. Especially with so many more out there with much more to worry about. But it's an honest one. And if nothing else, this past week has been about fear. About worry. About anger. About frustration. About being worn the fuck out. About hope.
Not what anyone wants to hear nowadays, I know. But the 72hr rule isn't much help when things are still going on over a week later.
Take care of yourselves out there.
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When faire brats hit the real world

6/5/2020

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So, my sister made the personnel at the drive-thru covid testing place twitch.
(her doc wanted her to get one jic)
They explained how the test works
(a q-tip punching the bore of your face by going all the way back)
and she went “Oh yeah, like the human blockhead trick.”
“The what?”
“You know, it’s the old circus thing where they take a long nail and a hammer and -”
she starts making a couple hand gestures.
They're all in masks, but every pair of eyes goes wide in growing horror
(except the one guy trying not to giggle)
“Well it’s not really like that, exactly.”
And that's how Merry became today's break room conversation.
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    Jay Peterson

    Musings on violence, storytelling, and humanity in general.

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