Z-anon-sensei Speaks #103
“It was not really wise, to plunge into matters of this sort…” R.A.W.
Xenon was standing right behind the mayor, holding a police hat up and pointing at it for the news cameras, mock-placing it on the mayor’s head during most of his interview. She followed him to the fence, and she was still standing behind him when the tear gas canisters began to fly. Once he finally fled back to his office, she stayed beside the fence with the front lines, sending a live stream of the whole chaotic display out through her phone to at least 20 Facebook viewers. Moments after Todd Wheelie the mayor was out of sight, the Portland police came out of their holes for a while for some target practice with pepper spray guns and bean bag rounds. They have a friendly competition going with the Federal ^goonies about their shooting skills, though PPD are by far the worse shots. Thus, the practice time every night. Xenon ran from them through the streets for a while like the last 50 nights in a row, filming and collecting spent canisters, rubber bullets, and a couple of bean bag casings. When the police retreated she wandered back to the fence to watch the Feds for a while poking pepper gun muzzles through the glory holes in their boarded up federal building windows, plunking young protesters in the face. An hour or so of that and the last of her viewers dropped. It was time to hit the park for some ribs and some dancing.
Mick’s detainment had provided him a minor celebrity on the streets, but he always held back from the front lines because… well, because he was a coward, if he would admit it to himself, which he often did when he came down off a horse high and found himself even slightly aware of his own feelings again. And that thought would drive him right back to the needle. So he just hung around in the park under a couple of trees while all the action was going on. And he had a lot on his mind.
By three-thirty that morning the ^goonies had retreated to their Marriott rooms to watch pornography. The smell of tear gas was fading from the air, and the drums were pounding in the park, celebrating another night of defending the city from the invaders. Blunts circulated, being shared despite the Covid, and the dancing began in earnest. ^jesgrew stole through the air like a salt-breeze from the ocean 40 miles away creeps in with the night fog, and spread through the throng of protesters as gas masks were pulled off and even Covid masks were lowered— at least long enough for a toke. “Stolen land stolen people” the chant went on in time to the drum beat, endless as history itself, and Xenon closed her eyes and went into some sort of trance for awhile. When she opened them again, she found herself dancing next to Mick. She hadn’t known him before he was snatched, but he had been pointed out by some friends over the last couple of days. A certain street cred attached to being snatched by the feds. He’d even been interviewed by Willamette Week in a story that got reprinted nationwide. He hadn’t cooperated with them, he’d told them, just insisted on his rights and asked for a lawyer. They held him only through that night, the story went on, turning him loose before daylight. That was five days before the night they gassed the mayor.
Xenon thought he looked sorta cute by the palletwood fire roaring on the little slab of concrete where the elk statue used to be— though she’d taken quite a bit of CS herself earlier, fumbling around with her gas mask, and her eyes weren’t focusing all that well. Still, she thought, maybe she’d dance just a little bit closer to him, for a while, maybe introduce herself if he looked her way…
Z-anon-sensei says it’s easy to miss the important part of the story in the midst of flash-bang grenades and whistling canisters of tear gas. The fact that the Federal ^goonies tear-gassed the mayor of Portland is shocking, incomprehensible in America. But the fact that the Portland police continue to disobey the direct wishes of the police commissioner (who happens to be the self-same tear-gassed mayor) and to ignore the City Council’s unanimous vote that they not coordinate with the Feds is far more dangerous to a republic. The police forces of a city must operate under the control of the government, or the city becomes a de facto police state. In Portland as across the country police forces have been taken over by the ^mythmemes and by the very agents of ^darkpower. So, of course they ignore the civilian authorities to work with the ^goonies. Who is in charge of the police forces of Portland, and of America? Is it the people? Or is law enforcement now entirely and solely the enforcement arm of ^darkpower?
Time will tell, they say, but time won’t tell it all.