Fellow DUers,
I cannot recommend this article enough. It is a stunning, sizzling, exceedingly well-written first-hand account or how our "War on Drugs" uses scarce taxpayer dollars to routinely and systematically ruin otherwise perfectly good & happy lives; including how the WOD abuses, humiliates, violates a persons humanity, and strips them of their dignity.
It is admittedly a bit long, but if you care about this issue at all, PLEASE do yourself a favor and read the whole thing. Actually, it shouldn't be difficult, as I couldn't stop reading it once into it 6 paragraphs). ~99th Monkey
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HOW TO GET ARRESTED WITHOUT REALLY TRYING
September 21, 2012 - J. Bennett Rylah
Being arrested was on my bucket list. I assumed it would be for unpaid parking tickets, but hoped it would be for overturning a cop car at a protest. But I got arrested in a strange way, I suppose. Here’s how you too can go from being a working class professional and wind up a criminal without doing much.
WHEN A SWAT TEAM IS THE ONLY GUEST AT YOUR HOUSEWARMING PARTY
Dear, Penthouse. I was sitting on the couch in a pair of pink panties and a wifebeater. It was the third of May, but also unseasonably warm. My partner, Shawn, and I had recently started a labor-of-love blog about terrible motels called MurderMotels.com. The rule is you have to find a terrible motel using TripAdvisor or some other site and then force yourself to stay in it all night, save a little exploring of the city it’s in. I’d been eyeing one in the small town of Morley (Michigan’s trucking capital based on number of truckers in residence) for a while and tonight, we were going. Having watched too much Dexter, I’d ordered a supply of Luminol and was mixing it up in a small bottle.
It was mid-afternoon on a weekday. I was home because I work as the Managing Editor of a publication that specializes in news about urban revitalization, entrepreneurship and social justice. I’m an independent contractor, so I work from a lot of places that aren’t an office. But today, I was done with work. Shawn was on break from school. So, we were sort of relaxing. I had just moved into his place the night before. We were in love, I think. I was the happiest I’d ever been in my life, perhaps.
Then there was a guy on the lawn. I thought maybe it was this catering company that’d been outside earlier, but it was a police officer in full SWAT gear. I said, “Look. It’s the police!” I think I was excited, maybe.
And then’s when the officer seemed alarmed that we’d seen him, and looked towards our door, where a small group of them had gathered. And just like on TV… Open up. It’s the police.
There were several of them. One guy had a battering ram and was disappointed, maybe, that he didn’t get to use it because we’d opened the door on our own. Cops, usually, are like vampires. I don’t invite them in. But I was convinced they needed help. Perhaps this SWAT team needed a place to hunker down. Maybe a maniac was on the loose. They said they had a warrant. They told Shawn to have everyone in the house come outside. I put on pants and met them on the porch. They must be confused, I decided. So I asked them who they were looking for.
“It’s not who,” the officer with us on the porch said. “It’s what.”
Then he took off his sunglasses and The Who started playing. Wait, no. No, that wasn’t it. I asked him “what” he was looking for, and he said, “Marijuana.”
Well, here’s the thing. I had just moved into Shawn’s house the night before, like I said. Prior to this, I lived by myself in a one-bedroom apartment where no teams of armed, flak-jacketed police officers with battering rams ever came over. Shawn’s roommate before me was a guy who had a card to grow medical marijuana. I knew he had a card, and I knew he grew marijuana in the basement. I knew that medical marijuana was legal in the state of Michigan. That’s all I knew.
http://jbennettrylah.com/how-to-get-arrested-without-really-trying-or-fuck-the-police-or-fuck-the-war-on-drugs/
