A cop only needs “reasonably objective” belief that his or another person’s life is in danger in order to use lethal force, or in other words, he’s got to believe you pose a mortal threat in order to shoot you. So the hinge of this swinging door is “reasonably objective” which is entirely based on the cop’s perceptions, beliefs and bias’s.

The question is, where do these perceptions, beliefs and bias’s come from?

• The first obviously is the cops upbringing, his place in society and the people he grew up around. If a cop grows up in a racist household then there’s a really good chance it rubs off on him.
• The second is the where he works and the people he works for. If the police force or sheriff he works for continually reinforces the fact that being a cop first and foremost is unsafe and they need to be hyper aware of their surroundings, that death is on the other side of that open police cruiser door, chances are the cop will be a hair trigger away from violence.
• Finally, the third is from the media who unwillingly or willingly promote the fact that being a cop is a dangerous. Massively so, and that cops lives are in danger every second of every day.

Now, it’s tough to do anything about the first situation but in the case of the second and third, it’s easy to see why they are that way and what we can do to try to change them.

In the second, when police departments train their cops and promote that violence is just a second away, they are intentionally instilling that fear in order to create a feedback loop. They specifically seek out candidates for being cops who are especially susceptible to that fear. People who have inferiority complexes, guys who feel powerless in their daily lives and who seek the power of the state and the gun as a replacement.

The feedback mechanism is created in order to constantly enforce the notion that police departments need more resources, more and better (more lethal) weapons. It’s why police departments have grenade launchers and tanks. Without a credible threat of ever increasing violence, police departments have no reason to grow or increase their weaponry. They also have no reason to push for ever more laws and regulations for them to enforce. They have no reason to support the state in its quest to control as much of its citizens lives as possible.

Again, finally, we know that media outlets need to sell advertising space so they need as many eyeballs and the attention of as many people as possible. They know puppies and kittens don’t get them that attention so they promote things like “The War On Cops” which is factually the opposite of what is actually true (it’s never been safer to be a cop). The media slant is pervasive and broadly broadcast so it’s a part of everyone’s lives.

All of that fictional fear creates cops who needlessly and tragically base their daily decisions on something that doesn’t actually exist and then they make split second decisions on these perceptions, beliefs and bias’s.

It’s not about racism, black or white…it’s about institutional enforcement of the police state that is killing unarmed men. If police departments stopped teaching fear, the media would have nothing to report, if the media has nothing to report then possibly families and communities would drift away from instilling racism in their kids…who might one day be a police officer.

Nothing will change quickly but understanding the “why” will get us to understand how to do the “how”.

And we know, more than anything, the “how” has to be done.

And we wish it was all about
the love…
the minutes sliding past, the pools
of blood, we wish that the door
never opened, letting a piece
of the black night fly in
letting an evil darkness prevail
replacing the stars in the bright sky
with simple shadows,
where once was a person
forty nine
once was an idea, a life…
lay the tatters of a broken heart
body and soul, torn by
an evil wind with guns and games
no winners, no mercy
a call to a god left waiting, for
an answer that would never
ever
come…to the blood blackened
floor
the holes in drywall
in arms and legs
in skin, in the moment
between being and being gone
a place where music was the point, where
rhythm was the essence, where
lazy life conducted itself
like a lover, a mother, a brother
a skewed stain on tiled bathroom floors
on dance floors
on doors
all to call notice
that
we wish it was
all about
the
love.

I was talking to a friend the other day when he said that he really liked someone—loved them actually—and he knew them for a long time but that she had friend-zoned him and that he was really frustrated. I called him a fucking dumb ass. He got kinda real mad at me but I explained to him what I meant and he sorta settled down. At least we’re still friends I think.

I said that she hadn’t friend zoned him, he had done it himself.

You see, I said—and we were drinking so it was a long, round about conversation that I’m editing here for length—you get to make the choice. Regardless the circumstance, regardless the girl, regardless anything else in the universe…you get to make the choice whether to stay or go.

She already told you her choice.

Now, I said, I’m assuming that you actually told the girl how you felt—that you truly and deeply loved her—and that you’re not pining away, unrequited and silent in all your butt hurt glory. And that when you told her this truth, she then said that she didn’t feel the same, that she loved you as a friend but didn’t feel anything romantic, that kind of attraction just wasn’t there.

Thus, what you call the friend-zoning.
But that’s actually not the case because you can just walk away. You can choose not to suffer the daily trauma of being in love with someone who is not in love with you. You simply have to choose whether her friendship is worth that trauma because she is NEVER going to feel different.
Never.

That bell has rung and can’t be un-rung so you either get over it or you walk away but please PLEASE stop saying that she is doing this thing TO you…you are choosing this course of action every day, knowingly and willingly. You are doing it to yourself. You can accept it, be a friend and pursue someone else for the romantic love bit you’re looking for…
…or just goddamn walk away.

But whatever you do, and this is where the drinking bit showed itself the most, just shut the fuck up and get me another beer.

Did I mention, yeah, wait…I did mention it but I took a gander at Peaky Blinders season 3 on Netflix around about 9 last night and was immediately sucked in. My mind scratching and clawing at reality as an unstoppable force of sheer visual magnetism and sophisticated savagery dragged me kicking and screaming…begging for the dull boredom of a Wednesday evening in front of the telly…but it would not let go. It just would not let go.

End to end, I watched 6 one-hour episodes, back to back in one massive story arc of epic proportions, until I lay trembling and disoriented on the couch at 3 AM. If you’ve never seen the show, have never been mortally wounded by the complicated treachery of the Shelby’s or Birmingham circa 1922 then I apologize for alerting you to the possibility but go, go now and watch season 1….watch season 2…DO NOT leap unprepared into season 3 as you’ll likely not survive. I have barely just done so…and it’s been 14 hours since and I am still sorting out the return to this muted, ordinary thing called life.

I did not, could not imagine the depravity and utter rapture that I felt—after being drawn gasping over the white hot coals of season 2—being superseded by the incredible and magnificently executed Machiavellian plot twists and deep rooted psychosis invading every sensory organ I possess…which was season 3. I could not imagine it because I am merely mortal, I am merely a vessel for which the genius and horror came to rest briefly. Came to stain the core of my soul with the blood of brothers, lovers…the gore that is splattered when family combines with honor which combines with vengeance and the ignoble politics of class warfare.

I cannot tell you anything about the show—no plot points, no hints, no details—because once started I know I would not be able to stop and the retelling, like any myth or religion, will grow to twice the size as when it started. I can only tell you that, in the days before…you need to eat well, to drink water, to make sure your loved ones are well and safe and hidden away.

Peaky Blinders. given the slightest opportunity, will grab you and it will not let you go, it’s teeth grinding into bone as with bulldog force it refuses to release you back onto this mild wonderland that is life outside of Birmingham, England in the year of our lord, nineteen hundred and twenty two.

Amen.

The problem with words is that they are arbitrary sounds that only humans associate with any meaning. Trained animals (dogs, cats, dolphins, liberals, etc.) certainly don’t understand the words, they hear the intonations, the rising and falling frequencies, they recognize a pattern of sound that they’ve associated with a requirement through positive reinforcement, over and over…but they don’t understand.

Right now, go out on the street and tell a squirrel to roll over…see where that gets you.

The point I’m making is that there is no actual natural connection (i.e. not man made) between words and things. Nothing “real” that is permanent and inalterable like a flame is hot, like water is wet…and even then, those words are meaningless except that we’ve assigned mutually agreed values to them. Physical properties, regardless what we call them or what language we use, are simply that; properties. We didn’t assign them nor invent them.

They simply are.

When you read names of objects, analogies and comparisons of physical systems to human interactions you might think “wow, that’s so fuckin true!” but the reality is that it’s an illusion, it’s not even close to being “fuckin true”. It is simply our human brains creating meaning and order where neither actually exists. We need a way to explain the things that happen around us, we need to feel like we have control and understand life and living on this planet so we use names, analogies and comparisons

We use the words we understand to explain the things we don’t.

And we feel better and feel like it’s ‘so fuckin true!’ because our little brains make a connection and that connection creates a sense of peace and comfort where once was trauma and unease. What is actually true however is that nothing “real” connects words to the things they describe EXCEPT our brains, human brains, and the agreement between us that certain sounds in a certain order are symbolic stand-ins for those things.

So the next time someone explains something to you using an analogy or comparison—and what was difficult to understand before suddenly makes sense—know that it’s all just made up shit anyway.

Now who’s a good boy? Who’s a good boy?

Believe. Go. Do.

~TrevorZen

It’s the dance, the verbal sparring, the
midnight wishing…morning
waiting, the fading into mist, of
memories…they said welcome to NYC
so much to see choose and be
overwhelming and tiresome, on edge
and too comfortable to move
online, offline…looking
looking
waiting waiting…changing
always changing until
until the changes have been too many
the moments too tiresome, another
life story told over wine
another insufficiency
missing the mark
toast and coffee, the train to the office
watching windows
seeing nothing but windows
the edge of reason falls away
what was decided before
seemingly intense and distasteful
looks not so
unappetizing
on another Monday morning in NYC
online and offline
overwhelming and tiresome, on edge
and too comfortable to move
online, offline…looking
again.

This I know…

…what I so desperately want, what I truly believe I’ve worked hard for, spent countless hours obsessing over, have thought about day and night forever it seems…the thing that has monopolized my every waking hour and is the singular thing that I truly and deeply believe will make me happy…

…is not now—nor will ever be—guaranteed.

Ever.

Because this is how life works. Because I want something does not mean I actually get it. Period. Regardless how much I want it, how hard I’ve worked for it…how deeply I intrinsically feel I deserve it. This fallacy is a singularly human trait because we can think and imagine the future and when we do so we imagine that future with us succeeding, with us attaining that thing we seek so devotedly. We imagine it so deeply it becomes our reality, quite removed from actual reality such that when the future does eventually becomes the present…

…we’re massively disappointed that they are so mismatched.

And it’s this disappointment that drives so much angst and sadness…that motivates so much anger at an “unfair” world. And the solution seems so difficult with competing motivations, the inability for us to separate wants from needs, from what we truly and deeply believe we deserve…but, when broken down, it actually is…simple.

Stop using the words “life” and “fair” together.

Life is not fair.

Working hard and spending the time toward that end goal is always—and will only ever be—a way to improve the odds of success. That’s it. And there is no amount of hard work or wishful thinking that will improve the odds to the point of inevitability. To a 100% sure thing.

• A college degree is not a guarantee.
• 80 hour work weeks is not a guarantee.
• Being nice and helpful is not a guarantee.
• Going to the gym 5 times a week and eating healthy is not a guarantee.
• Listening, truly listening and being supportive of another person is not a guarantee.
• Deeply and completely want want WANTING with every cell and molecule in your body is not a guarantee.

Simply…while life is not a legally enforceable contract, there is one guarantee given. You will die one day.

Everything else is up to you to do your best improving your odds of success.

It’s called living.

Believe. Go. Do.

~TrevorZen

She said, she said, I don’t remember
what she said to me at dawn
but I felt the stab, felt the cut
and passed out on her lawn

We were the people I looked at
the ones hand in hand forever
but time is an asshole, a jerk
and only knows the word “never”

I can’t remember the last time
I actually thought to like myself
and I still can’t find my own help
now all I think is that I feel shitty
all because I used to be pretty

She said, she said, I don’t think I listened
there were too many shades of me
and now I’m alone with…guess who
and not so sure it feels like free

Stupid and hesitant I just didn’t say
the things I know I should’ve said
would’ve and could’ve but no I didn’t
and this place is where I’ve been led

I can’t remember the last time
I actually thought to like myself
and I still can’t find my own help
now all I think is I feel shitty
all because I used to be pretty

I used to be pretty in my head
the way I thought of & treated her
all my feelings now are just dead
never knew how much I needed her

I can’t remember the last time
I actually thought to like myself
and I still can’t find my own help
now all I think is I feel shitty
all because I used to be pretty

now all I think is I feel shitty
all because I used to be pretty

now all I think is I feel shitty
all because I used to be pretty

People are like televisions with our emotions being individual programs, each having its own channel. The happiness channel, the sadness channel, the half happy/half sad channel, the channel that makes no sense at all, etc.….and regardless what’s showing on the screen, all of our other emotions are still playing in the background, just waiting for the channel to be changed.

Words are like the remote control for the TV…

…your words can help to change someone else’s channel.

How about choosing something good to watch, OK?

Believe. Go. Do.

~TrevorZen

Sigh…

…the difference between you and I is that I don’t give a fuck what you do. Ever. Unless what you’re doing is infringing on the constitutional rights of another person (i.e. me), then I really don’t care what you do. Really. Not a fuck.

Not even a little bitty, eensy weensy, tiny little fuck.

But…if you’re a conservative (on the right, republican, etc.) then some—among many, MANY—of the things you give a fuck about and want are to tell me who I can marry or which bathroom I’m allowed to use, you want to tell women what they can and can’t do with their bodies, you want religion to have an influence in our schools and government, you want us to pay more taxes so that we can go into foreign places and promote democracy with bombs and guns and on and on and on.

Or…if you’re a progressive (on the left, democrat, etc.) then some—among many, MANY—of the things you give a fuck about and want are to tell me that I’m too stupid and dangerous to own a gun, that I’m paying far too few taxes needed to support a cradle-to-grave government, that carbon is evil and must be destroyed or, better yet, taxed into oblivion, that corporations are evil and the people who run them are criminals simply because…and on and on.
So it is quite plain and clear to me that you all give far too many fucks…and that I am suffering from your fuck giving. That little ol’ me, whistling my merry tune, minding my own business is being seriously infringed upon by both you conservatives and you progressives.
Why?

What’s the beef with simply living your life the best way you know how, what’s wrong with loving the people who love you…what’s wrong with letting people live their lives the best way they know how and all of us just minding our own goddamn business?
Really, why?

Just wondering.

Believe. Go. Do.

~TrevorZen