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Cornholed

On Friday, I was driving down Western Avenue, minding my own business, when the email app on my Galaxy Tab chimed.

“Oh good!”, I thought, “My penis pump has finally shipped!”

Since I couldn’t actually read the email, it was just an assumption. Obviously, I would need to verify the contents of the correspondence. Being a responsible citizen of the great state of Cascadia, I didn’t want to read my tablet while driving, so I pulled into the nearest public parking space.

About 15 seconds after parking, before I could even get my tablet unmounted, I received a knock on my passenger-side window. It wasn’t so much a “knock” as it was a rather strong pounding (that’s what she said), and when I looked up to see who it was, all I could see was a blue uniform and a badge.

I was confused. After all, I had broken no laws, and I didn’t even have my woodcarving knife with me. Why on earth was five-oh hassling me?

I rolled down my window, and before I could say anything, a chubby, bespectacled, Velma-from-Scooby-Doo-looking female security guard bent down, poked her head through my window, and said … and I quote … “Uh, this is kind of a federal building.”

parking near downtown seattle federal building

parking near downtown seattle federal building

I looked over, and sure enough, I had parked behind the Federal Building on Western Ave. between Marion and Madison.

But …

So what?

I park next to this building all the time. Why wouldn’t I? It’s a public parking space, on a public street, in the middle of Downtown Seattle, with a public parking meter on the public sidewalk, next to a Federal (read: public) building. It’s absolutely, positively, perfectly legal to park where I was.

Don’t believe me?

Check out this photograph I took on Sunday. It’s the same space, occupied by three, count’em, three cars.

cars parked near federal building

Now, I was really confused.

Before I could utter a rebuttal, however, Velma pointed to a space on the other side of Western and said “Why don’t you hang a you-eey into that space right there.”

I looked over, and about 8 feet from where I was parked, was another empty space, on the other side of a double-yellow line, pointed in the opposite direction of my travel. I realized that I was being ordered by a Federal officer to openly break two traffic laws directly in front of her face.

But why?

What on earth had I done wrong?

What in the hell is a “kind of Federal building”, and why should I not park next to one?

Clearly, this lady was out of line. As a citizen of the free-est nation on earth, it was my duty to educate this woman about my rights.

I opened my mouth … began to speak … but before I could say a word, I remembered.

I remembered 9/11.

I remembered Saddam Hussein.

I remembered Bin Laden.

I remembered the Patriot Act.

I remembered Guantanamo.

I remembered See Something, Say Something.

And in less than one second … before I could even get a syllable out of my mouth … it hit me.

Rights? What rights do I have? I don’t have any rights. This is the United States of America. A country which has more of its people locked in cages than any other nation on the planet. A country which ranks 47 on the World Press Freedom Index. A country which gropes women and children before allowing them onto an airplane. A country which arrests and beats photographers for legally taking pictures. A country embroiled in perpetual war. A country in which every bank deposit and withdrawal is scrutinized for “terrorist” ties. A country in which neighbors are being asked to spy on neighbors in an eerie resurrection of the Stasi. A country in the grips of a psychopathic paranoia that only fifteen years ago would have been unthinkable.

And so, instead of staking my legitimate claim to the spot, I instead simply said “sorry”, put the car in drive, and continued down the road, putting as much distance between myself and the “Kind-of-Federal Officer” as possible.

It was on this day, Friday, that I had a bit of an epiphany. I realized that I had given up. Given up on even trying to argue with or educate the victims of paranoid psychosis that have become the American status-quo. Given up on trying to assert my rights. Given up on any notion of “freedom”.

Somewhere along the line, I too, have accepted the new reality of American life.

Whereas, once upon a time, I would have stood my ground and argued my point, I now possess an almost pathetic defeatism. A realization that I live in a police state where the word “Federal” is used to strike fear into the hearts of average citizens, and where the only real right we have is the right to do as we are told.

It’s been a slow, tortured journey, but now … a certain acceptance and acquiesces has washed over me.

It’s like the prison rape victim who finally realizes his lot in life. He’s in a shower filled with a gang of shank-wielding guys twice his size, and after putting up a brief fight, he finally has to come to grips with the fact that … this is going to happen. At this point, he has to come to terms with his powerlessness, and he just has to make the best of it for his own mental self-preservation.

Well, folks, I am that prisoner, and the rest of you … well … you’re the gang.

As you line up like cattle to get backscattered, as you vote in yet another member of the prison-rape party, as you report each other to the authorities, all in the name of security … I’ve decided that, since I can’t beat you, I’m going to do my best to simply avoid you. After all, this is happening, there’s nothing I can do about it, and your shanks are way bigger than mine.

Congratulations.

Rapists.

5 comments to Cornholed

  • blueboar

    I suppose everybody caves once in awhile. But I really wish you’d go back and park there whenever you’re in the area and in the mood to. Fuck them and fuck that bitch on a power trip. Have her explain why she thinks you can’t.

    I don’t get backscattered at the airport. I get groped. It’s not pleasant and I don’t enjoy it. But I hope they don’t either. Again, fuck ‘em.

    Now, I suppose if I were running late at the airport, I’d face a hard choice, and would probably cave and take the nude-a-scope over missing my flight. Not proud of that, but that’s probably reality.

    Of course, if you do park there, I suppose you could get a missile up your ass from the drones they want to start flying more often here in the US.

    But don’t worry, the US Govt wouldn’t assassinate a US citizen with a drone attack! Oh wait… they have…

    Tell you what Rex, avoid that street.

    (Yes, I’m being a bit facetious. Those drones aren’t armed. Yet…)

    • blueboar

      PS – When I say the drones aren’t armed yet, I mean hear in the States. They sure as shit are armed over in those countries where our government is busy blasting the shit out of brown, scary people.

      PPS – I see where the DHS wants to hire a contractor to “monitor” blogs and other social media. If that does come about, I just want to say to the DHS: “Fuck you, you bunch of Commie Scumbags! And if you don’t like it, my name is Disco Stu from Raleigh, NC.”

  • trentmc

    I was parking my car in a disabled space in the garage at my doctor’s office last week. I put my disabled placard on my rear view mirror, grabbed my cane and began my hobble(in great pain that day)to the Elevator. I could barely stand by the time I reached the Elevator when I heard a voice shouting from behind me…Sir! Then louder…SIR!

    I turned to face a blue shirted woman with an official looking cap and badge. She said I couldn’t park there it’s a disabled space. I’m standing there now leaning heavily on my cane at this point. It was obvious I was in great pain. I said to her that I had placed my disabled placard on my rear view. She told me that their was no placard and I would need to move my vehicle. I told her no it’s there. Go have another look and proceeded to enter the elevator. Here she goes again… Sir! You’ll need to come back to your vehicle with me.

    I said I could show her my Government Disabilty Card from my wallet but she wasn’t having it. Fuck! We walked back to my vehicle and I barely made it from the pain but anger drove me on. We get there…lo and behold there is my placard hanging on the rear view.

    Her response was it’s dark in here and I didn’t see it. She told me I need to spend $35 to get a disabled license plate and walked away. No I’m sorry. Nothing.

    Now the old me would have blown up at her but I was in too much pain and like Rex I realize it doesn’t make any difference anymore. I was late for my appointment as I had to lay down and rest for a few minutes in my back seat. God Bless America!

  • blueboar

    “A government afraid of its citizens is a Democracy. Citizens afraid of government is tyranny!” – Thomas Jefferson

    “All tyranny needs to gain a foothold is for people of good conscience to remain silent.” – Thomas Jefferson

    “When a man assumes a public trust he should consider himself a public property.” – Thomas Jefferson

    (DISCLAIMER: Dear FBI/DHS monitors, I am not advocating violence against the government. I’m way too much of a big mouthed pussy for that. Let’s face it, I’m too pretty for prison and burn too easily for Gitmo.)

    But I do firmly believe that this country is fast headed to hell in a hand basket with it’s current security-industrial complex and “anything for security” mentality. Much more insidious than the military-industrial complex ever was.

  • Aaron C.

    It’s only going to get worse:
    http://www.economicpolicyjournal.com/2012/02/houses-passes-new-bill-that-would-make.html

    1% of the country will control/employ 40% of the country to lock up 54% of the country while being served tea and coffee by 5% of the country.

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