The All-Too-Avoidable Tasing

It’s easy for many Blacks to assume the victim posture whenever an “innocent, hard-working, joy-filled, wouldn’t harm a fly” brotha is tased, either during or immediately after some crime has been committed. It would be simple to deried the actions of cops and utter the cry of “electrical sanctioned lynching” or “tased while black” or other myopic nonsense. But here’s the truth, harder and colder than the coroner’s table at the morgue: Follow rules, or get tased.

Now, who can’t remember that? Oh yeah: Felonious, belligerent brothas.

Hint: If you pretend that you’re deaf, you may receive a 50,000 volt hearing aid for your troubles.

Another hard truth: These tasings provide black humor for those such as myself who are normally repulsed by the low comedy of Megroes. We laugh because in our minds these Megroes deserve every farad of capacitance, every volt of electricity that taser has to offer. They deserve it because we’re tired of Megroes ruining the quality of our lives with their doggerel, their out-dated coonery, their incivility. So when they are tased, we think back to all the times they’ve driven through our hoods at night cranking Soulja Boy at 100 decibels at 2 AM and we exclaim and laugh internally, “Well, you wanted our attention, so here it is!”

To all of the cops who righteously tase: Continue to keep the good work up! I’m with you all the way! Keep the laughs coming! Try to tase them until their pants actually come up above their waist! Try to tase their braids out! Tase 'em to a diploma!

A Detroit buddy of mine, a cop, recently dealt with a Megro the old-fashioned way: 9 mm bullet to the head. Trust me: there’s no entertainment value there. Only brutal resolution.

Lead in one hand, ‘lectricity in the other! Both are excellent conductors in their own right.

I’m not saying this to be serious—this is cynical venting here…I don’t wish death upon anyone—but you have to admit there are some glaring common denominators involved here, and it isn’t the seeming sainthood of ghetto-gone-bad brothas, either. In many of these cases, it’s the celestial convergence of some many secret pinings: spectators thoroughly enjoy the timeless entertainment value of the kinetic Megro getting a 50,000 volt lesson in listening comprehension; a tasee with a life-long death wish being granted one; the actuality of Megroes who have been getting away with metaphorical murder actually being drawn closer to death; weed, alcohol and drugs; cops who have to endure the manure from human debris as a job description finally having a moment of catharsis; frustrated citizens and family members seeing the regrettable yet long-awaited egress of a bad person from their private worlds.

If this isn’t win-win, nothing is.

As a teacher, I instruct young people daily in ways to prevent being tased, but you know “urban” kids! Gotta have the last word; he ain’t my daddy—my daddy don’t even tell me what to do; watch me I’m gonna fight back; he bed’not tase me. And so on.

Two recent tasings in NC involved brothas. The first brotha, naturally, predictably, was characterized as a hard-working, fun-loving young man getting his life together. It was only after we see video of this Ghandi shoving a display rack behind the manager’s counter and throwing an umbrella at them do we see a more accurate picture of this peacemaker. The footage was entertaining, but we never saw the tasee writhing on the floor from the effects of the taser. He left with a police officer; he was tased; he later died.

They also found weed on him, but that’s not important.

The second incident began at a Food Lion, when a brotha tried to leave the store with a cart full of food. Hundreds of people do just that, but this brotha was "offended" when his debit card didn’t work. So instead of leaving the cart he worked so hard to fill, he felt it necessary to take it with him.

Now what’s so unreasonable about that, Food Lion? Ya’ll always effin with a brotha!

When the unfeeling, unsympathetic officers caught up with the brotha, lo and behold, he was carrying an Applebee's gift card from the store that hadn't been paid for! Will cops stop setting up brothas for crime they didn’t commit? I mean, after all, the brotha left the food cart in tha parking lot for goodness sake!

The brotha was booked for, well, breaking the law and it was somewhere in there, that nebulous grey area of opportunity that brotha became “physically aggressive and was communicating loudly.” After all, isn’t it a birthright for brothas to “swell up” at the po-po?

That's when the po-po tased brotha to get him “back under control.” Brotha never fully recovered from the incident and later died in a local hospital

Of course you realize the duality of this brotha before it’s even mentioned. 1) Previous record(s) and 2) His family maintains an alternate image of this brotha.

1) Previous records: Jailed previously – mostly on charges such as possessing marijuana—there’s that weed again, simple assault and misdemeanor larceny, all of which were dropped by a district attorney, according to court documents. In 1999 and again in 2000, he was found guilty of violating a domestic violence protective order. In 2006, he pleaded guilty to driving while impaired, documents show.
2) Alternate image: “He was a very happy, joyful person – the life of the party type of person who lit up a room when he walked in,” said his uncle, Jerry Moore. “Whether he used or had used substances, we don't know.” Davidson's family said they weren't aware of him using or having a problem with drugs or alcohol

So what are some of the rules of engagement?

Rule #1: When the police—you know, the one holding up the law, the one with a baton, pepper spray, Glock and the law on his side—professionally ask you to stop doing something, just stop doing it! I mean, really, how hard is that? Yes, this includes cursing, kicking, swinging wildly, urinating and biting.

Rule #2: If you plan to get high, stay at home, otherwise you are just begging to get tased!

Rule #3: If you have a criminal record, understand you’re a walking taser candidate already. You’re on borrowed time. Plan around this by having pictures of you looking civilized readily accessible for your funeral program. This goes further than pictures of you standing with your crew flashing signs while smoking a blunt with your baby mama. The civilized picture would actually evoke pity.

Rule #4: Don’t utter certain switch phrases like “I ain’t goin’ out like no punk” or “f--- ya’ll m-----f---- police” or “why don’t you make me spread my legs.”

Rule #5: If you have “locs” and you’re wearing a beater, and you’re saggin’ see rule #3 for the endgame.

Rule #6: If you’re attending or have graduated from an alternative high school, you need to know you’re not actually living in an alternate universe. See Rule #5 for your projected endgame.

Here’s a lesson for those with half a brain: Do what cops ask you to do THE FIRST TIME and watch your taser potential decrease dramatically.

Here’s my tase’ potentially: The probability of me having a one-night stand with Halle Berry, Serena Williams and Sanaa Latham, with Vivica Fox giving me a reach-around. Got that?

A less carnal example here: The probability of Fox News actually being Un-biased in its reporting.

So you see, as an bald, overweight, law-abiding, God-fearing church-going, college degree having, 43 year-old father of three school teacher with an employable name not made because “it sounds pretty,” who actually works for a living, who understands cause-and-effect, who has listening comprehension, who thinks that most rappers are idiots getting paid for idiocy, who doesn’t smoke Black and Mild or drink liquor from a goblet in public, who doesn’t engage in conspicuously loud public conversations laced with profanity while Bluetoothing in a movie theater, who doesn’t drive a Cutless on 26-inch rims while cranking “lick my lollipop,” my chances of getting tased are extremely low.

In a phrase: Nerds don’t get tased.

But as a Black man, my low tase’ potential is much higher than my White male counterpart. Because I have half a brain, I won’t forget that. Ever.