Innocence and Anger

So, did you happen to catch the recent headlines about the case involving James Bain? Mr. Bain is 54 years old. Mr. Bain is black. In 1974 Mr. Bain was convicted of kidnapping and raping a 9-year old boy and sent to prison to serve a life sentence for that crime. Mr. Bain served 35 years of his sentence. Then, on December 17, 2009 Mr. Bain walked out of prison a free man after DNA evidence conclusively proved that he was innocent. The DNA evidence did not prove that Mr. Bain was “not guilty” mind you. It proved that he was innocent.

Since the advent of DNA testing technology, Mr. Bain has been lobbying justice officials to conduct genetic testing on samples taken from the crime scene. At least four times Mr. Bain petitioned to have the genetic evidence tested. At each and every turn, these efforts were rebuffed by justice officials aided by the courts. Rebuffed by those very same people whose supposed mission in life is a “search for the truth.” Rebuffed until the Innocence Project took up his cause.

Mr. Bain was a 19 year old kid when he was sent away to be forgotten. Now he’s going home to see his mama as a graying pre-senior. He’s going home to resume his interrupted studies in reading and writing. He’s going home to try to re-learn how to live his life. He’s going home to pick up whatever pieces of that life remain. But he’s not going home angry.

Mr. Bain has lost 3½ decades of his life. Thirty-five fucking years! How does he make up for that? How do we make it up to him? What can we possible say to Mr. Bain to make amends for our crimes against him? “I’m sorry Mr. Bain?” “You’re a free man Mr. Bain?” “Good Luck Mr. Bain?” That’s what we say to make ourselves feel better so that we can pretend we’re contrite and then hurry and forget about the whole sordid affair. That may be salve for our guilty souls, but it just doesn’t seem anywhere near adequate the dress the irreparable wound we have inflicted.

I’ve heard it said that these types of cases prove that the system works. To the contrary, it proves that there is something seriously wrong with the system. A system that deprives an innocent person of their liberty for 3½ decades isn’t working. A system that refuses to dispassionately and objectively conduct post-conviction DNA analyses to guard against the possibility of a wrongful conviction because of a failure to adhere to procedural niceties isn’t working. A system that allows police and prosecutors to ignore and/or withhold exonerating evidence for no purpose other than to pad conviction ratios isn’t working. A system that relies upon subtle racism in order to convict a disproportionate number of black and brown men isn’t working. A system that is completely unresponsive to those with lesser or no financial means isn’t working. And a system that allows us to close our eyes to this travesty and go on living smug in the belief that our ways are irreproachable isn’t working.

I can’t wrap my mind around Mr. Bain’s lack of anger. Perhaps after thirty-five years of pain, suffering, and isolation his anger has simply been drained from him. Or perhaps he’s just a bigger man than I. Whichever it is, he need not worry. I’ll volunteer to be angry enough for the both of us.

Visit the Innocence Project on-line at http://www.innocenceproject.org

Siriusly Affirming the Stereotype

Sirius Satellite and XM Radio are two of the great inventions of the modern era and a much needed antidote to the constant inanity, blather and hucksterism that is A.M. and F.M. radio. After all, where else can you get the Grateful Dead twenty-four hours a day without interruption?

Despite the bewildering array of options that Sirius and XM offer, I guess I’m a bit of a creature of habit because I rarely venture beyond the 46-57 range on XM. But the other day, I broke out of that mold and went on a quest for new experiences. Listening to the same genre of music day after day was getting stale and I wanted to see if I could broaden my horizons.

So I’m cruising through the channels- Hip Hop/R & B, Jazz and Blues, Classical, Dance and Electronica, Latin- when I stumbled upon OutQ Radio (Sirius 109/ XM 98). OutQ is satellite radio’s Gay and Lesbian channel. It promotes itself as “News, Information and Entertainment for the Gay and Lesbian Community,” Gay radio, who knew?

I don’t fall into OutQ’s demographic, but I was intrigued enough by the concept of Gay radio to listen in (as long as I could stand to as it turned out) on my drive home. I must have hit upon the “Entertainment” portion of OutQ’s programming as what I heard certainly didn’t qualify under any objective standard as “News” or “Information.”

The program that was being broadcast was a show called “Derek and Romaine.” Derek is a gay man; Romaine is his female counterpart. The riveting subject of their show was a lesbian sorority at the University of Pennsylvania and their guest was the President of that sorority. Without getting into the whole “gay issue,” it was dreadfully dull radio made worse by Romaine’s litany of inane comments and constant, insecure snickering.

So before I go into my tirade, here’s the obligatory disclaimer. Personally, I don’t give a rat’s ass if a man wants to be with another man or a woman wants to be with another woman. It’s no skin off of my wiener either way. In fact, I find the whole raging debate about gay rights to be pretty silly. Gays should have the same rights that everyone else in this country enjoys. Period.

But here’s the thing that is really annoying. Gays and lesbians are constantly preaching to the heterosexual world about the evils of stereotyping them while they continually play to the stereotype. OutQ in general, and Derek and Romaine in particular, are perfect examples. Specifically, Derek spoke with a pronounced and affected lisp. Who really speaks like that? Damn few people that I have encountered unless they were gay men trying mighty hard to advertise to the world their gayness. Romaine, on the other hand, seemed fixated on the hook-up prospects that a lesbian sorority would afford and constantly pushed the discussion in that direction. She would ask with baited breath (and apparent envy) about who was banging whom and the intimate details about the gay sexual escapades of the sisters.

Can these guys get any less clear on the concept? We're told all gay men don’t prance around speaking with an effeminate lisp. But then “Gay radio” broadcasts a show hosted by a gay guy who, true to the stereotype, speaks with a lisp. We’re also told that the gay culture is not necessarily centered upon gay sex. But here again is OutQ, the satellite radio voice of the gay community, broadcasting a show the focus of which was, true to stereotype once again, lesbian sex.

So here’s some unsolicited advice to the gay and lesbian community: if you want people to get beyond the stereotypes commonly associated with gays and lesbians, stop perpetuating those stereotypes. Do some self-policing of your community. Stop acting in a manner consistent with the gay archetype. Otherwise, you will never get beyond the stereotypes. Siriusly.

Anonymous Sniping- The New Blood Sport

So when did it become fashionable to revel in others’ misery? With the current economic downturn, there have been quite a few stories in the media lately about folks who have fallen on hard times. Perhaps unlike the past, a good number of these people are credentialed and hardworking individuals who are either victims of corporate “down-sizing” or simply got caught long when the real estate market turned. Just like the past, some of these folks also chose their lot in life or got there by making objectively bad decisions. Either way, the end result is the same.

Just the other day, I read a piece in the local rag about a couple from California’s Central Valley who are flirting with homelessness. According to the story, this couple had previously owned a restaurant together with three homes, one of which was their primary residence and two of which were investment properties. Their restaurant was recently shuttered when the building which they leased was found to have numerous code violations that the owner either couldn’t, or refused to cure. That event, coupled with the radical devaluation of their real estate, has left this couple competing with the bums for bottles, cans, plastic bottles and handouts.

Anyway, the website that was carrying this story has a Comments function where readers can log in, mostly anonymously, and post their thoughts. Back in the old days, when we got our news from actual papers, I always brushed by the headlines, the local news, the business section, even the sports page and went straight to the Letters to the Editor on the Op-Ed page. That was where the real action was. That was where society bore its soul. And that was where you could get the unsanitized truth along with a hearty dose of laughter, incredulity, anger and more.

Letters to the Editor are still an integral part of newspapers and periodicals, but the Comments function on websites is quickly usurping the old-fashion letter. The difference is this: anonymity. Unlike the letters of old, the Comments function on most websites is the Wild West. You can post virtually anything you want behind the safety of a silly screen name without consequence. This is both a blessing and a curse. It’s a blessing in that people tend to speak their mind more freely; it’s a curse in that people tend to speak their mind more freely. That why the Comments section is the first place I go when I visit a website.

So I’m reading the comments that people have left about the couple from the Central Valley who lost their restaurant and are now employed as full time recyclers. And the comments are shockingly nasty. Predictably, a large number of the commenters immediately jumped to the conclusion that this couple was simply lazy and yearned to be on the public dole. Another sizeable segment of the comments was devoted to the belief that these people were getting exactly what they deserved because owning three homes was obviously well beyond their means. Someone even suggested that since this couple failed to cure the building code deficiencies that were the building owner’s responsibility they were actually at fault for the closure of their restaurant. Compassion and understanding for this couple’s misfortune was in short supply. Arrogance, smugness and condemnation were not.

Beyond that, I noticed a huge disconnect between what many of these commenters advocated for this couple, and the bases of their criticism of them. As those in a more secure position are apt to do, many commenters suggested that if this particular couple only had enough entrepreneurial gumption, spirit and drive (presumably just like the person making the comment), then they would either not be in the position in which they found themselves, or they could easily navigate their way back to success. At the same time, these very same commenters griped about the previous financial risks this couple took by owning a restaurant and multiple properties. In other words, they first criticized this couple for being too entrepreneurial. They then turned right around and criticized them for not being entrepreneurial enough.

At the end of the day, the whole “discussion” was ridiculous and obviously wasn’t about whether this couple was hyper- or hypo-entrepreneurial. It was about taking shots. It was about kicking someone while they are down in order to make oneself feel superior. It was criticism for the sheer sake of criticism. And commenters were literally reveling in the nastiness and absurdity of the whole sordid affair.

So come one and all and join the fun. It’s our new blood sport. And the really great thing about it is that you can bludgeon someone senseless without getting all that messy blood on your hands. And it’s available for your entertainment and viewing pleasure 24/7/365 on any of a number of locations on the World Wide Web. Enjoy!

Common Sense Goes to the Dogs

Last weekend, a much anticipated “dog park” opened in my fair city to considerable fanfare by municipal leaders and gushing enthusiasm by dog lovers. A “dog park” as you well know, is one of those rare places in society where a person can allow his dog to roam free, unleashed from the stern and condemning eye of a paranoid public. Dog parks were unheard of 20 years ago, but have become de rigueur given our incessant quest for a society completely devoid of anything unsafe, unsanitary or unsavory. They have become a necessary evil because there is absolutely no place else an unleashed dog can go in society without risk of his master receiving a citation.

The extent to which we have taken our idiocy can be seen on any given weekend in the hills and foothills of Southern California. If you take a hike or go out for a bike ride, you will come across several folks enjoying the unstructured wide open spaces with their canine companions. Invariably, however, those companions will be tethered to their masters by a leash. Worse, their masters will be carrying a little plastic baggie full of dog poo like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Aside from the more humiliating aspects of packing around a little baggie full of dog feces, and ignoring for the moment the embarrassing daintiness with which most owners carry their pet’s poo, the whole notion of picking up poo where the deer and coyote roam is absurd. Poo is poo after all, yet I don’t see any concerted effort underway by the poo patrol to hit the trails with little blue baggies to clean up after the undomesticated critters that foul the very same trails trod upon by dogs.

My God, where did we go wrong? I think it must have started with sweaters for dogs and then taken off from there. And the sad thing is nobody seems to think anything of it. We seem to have adopted a collective mind-set that reaching down and picking up a steaming pile of shit, or harnessing a dog in the wild, is normal, adult behavior. Worse, actually, those who think otherwise are viewed as deviants. So call me a deviant if you must, but we’re sliding down a slippery slope here. If we don’t stop and regain our senses now, the next thing you know men will begin to abandon Retrievers, Labs and other manly breeds and start prancing around like Paris with their cute and clothed Chihuahuas. Oh, whoops, too late…