GEORGE FLOYD III

Okay, one more session with Mr. George Floyd.

You may recall last time I suggested the man was having some sort of panic attack, and that was why the cops took him out of the squad car and called an ambulance.

I speculated he might have been saying "I can't breathe" before anybody put a knee to his neck.

Now we have transcripts of body cam audio from two of the officers involved in the arrest (Keung and Lane). And if the transcripts are accurate, we now know Floyd did say "I can't breathe" early in the procedure.

In fact, he said "I can't breathe" seven times during the process of getting into and out of the squad car.

The transcripts have occasional time codes embedded in them, but no description of what is happening. The only available video is from civilian cell phones, not police body cams.

According to police reports, Mr. Floyd became agitated in the squad car, kicked at the officers, and bashed his face into window glass. He was bleeding from the mouth while they waited on the ambulance.

(Technically, the ambulance was called for a man bleeding from the mouth; nobody speculated about panic or anxiety attack. This is probably why the ambulance was requested code two [non-emergency]. Much later, Officer Lane wondered if Floyd needed to be rolled on his side, suggesting the man may be experiencing "excited delirium." The veteran officer on scene [Chauvin] said, "That's why we got the ambulance coming." Excited delirium is a diagnosis beset by controversy; it's often cited by police when a suspect dies in custody.)

Before getting into the squad car, Floyd told officers he was claustrophobic. He said it thirteen times. He said he had anxiety. He said, "Y'all, I'm going to die in here! I'm going to die, man!"

He also said he was scared, that he'd been shot by police before, that his mom had just died, that he'd had COVID. ("I don't want to go back to that.")

Even before getting into the car he wanted the officers to roll down a window. He asked to be put in the front seat. He said he wanted to lie on the ground.

Throughout, he protested his innocence, saying, "I'm not that kind of guy." (six times)

The veteran officer, Derek Chauvin, first shows up about eleven minutes into the transcript. He's informed Floyd is under arrest. Officer Lane says: "Let's take him out and just MRE."

(Mobile Report Entry—a booking entry in lieu of going to the station and booking a suspect there [?])

Twice more (of the seven) the man says he can't breathe, then thanks the officers when they haul him out of the car. Chauvin presumably heard at least the last two times Floyd said he couldn't breathe.

Throughout the encounter, Floyd gave the police trouble. It took many commands to get him to show both hands when his car was approached. Getting him out of the car was difficult. Getting him to walk to the squad car was difficult. (His gait was unsteady, and he kept falling down.) Getting him to take a seat in the squad car took forever, and he didn't stay in there very long.

The police speculated among themselves what drugs the man was on. When Floyd was told he was foaming at the mouth, he said: "Yes, yes, I was hooping earlier."

(This may or may not be a reference to taking drugs anally; the autopsy turned up evidence of fentanyl intoxication and recent methamphetamine use.)

Only friends of George Floyd can testify if his behavior in front of the police was normal for him, or if he was "altered" in some way.

In my spectacularly unqualified opinion, the man was suffering from some sort of panic or anxiety attack. According to my research, difficulty breathing is a defining condition.

Although the police discussed hobbling Floyd, nothing was done. If the man was in fact suffering from the stress of finding himself literally in the hands of the police, hog-tying the guy and standing back might have saved him.

We'll never know.

The state will maintain the police caused Floyd's death by weighing down his body and neck. Maybe all the cops had to do was touch the man. One thing for sure, being in the presence of law officers was doing him no good.

Seven times Floyd said he couldn't breathe before Chauvin put his knee on the man's neck. That may well constitute reasonable doubt in a court of law.

At the very least, it complicates the prosecution's case enormously.

Derek Chauvin heard the man say he couldn't breathe before placing him on the ground, where the phrase was repeated many, many times. Since he is the only one who actually knows how hard he was pressing on the man's neck (the autopsy showed no evidence of asphyxiation), he may have reasonably concluded he was causing no particular harm by doing so.

(That the optics were massively damaging to Chauvin, there can be no doubt.
Any cop who uses this technique in the future, even just for a few seconds while a suspect is being cuffed, is asking for major trouble.)

If the ambulance had been requested code three instead of code two, the matter would probably not have reached this level of notoriety. (The code was bumped to three near the end.)

On the other hand, maybe Chauvin knew exactly what he was doing. Maybe he was willing to murder Floyd under color of authority and take his chances in an environment of muddied legal water. Maybe the man is pure, unrepentant evil, an imp from hell, etc. (Or so crazy he shouldn't even be tried.)

At some point, a dozen unlucky citizens are going to be asked to make a decision as to which version of reality applies.

If we're all lucky, the judgment of those guys will not be just a minor footnote in the history of the Second American Civil War.

TRUST IN SHAMASH

Some states are on the verge of reinstating "stay at home" mode. But in many cases, folks are still allowed to attend church services. With or without masks. I suppose they're operating on the theory that God will keep those citizens safe.

Turns out that's a difficult calculation to make. One early covid-19 outbreak occurred after a church's choir practice. Many got infected and several died.

Stuff like that happens all the time.

Of course, it might just be part of God's mysterious plan: He's taking the opportunity to grab up folks for some face-time in heaven.

I have a neighbor who is confident God will protect him from whatever bad actors are roaming the planet. And I have to admit, it's worked so far...

On the other hand, Charles Darwin once pointed out that confidence comes more from ignorance than from knowledge. Idiots are cock-sure, while smart people are filled with doubts.

The thing is, folks generally know what they know. And they can't be wrong, as far as they can tell. It's the glory of being human!

One thing humans have seemingly always known is that supernatural gods are responsible for all good things. Throughout our history, we appear to be convinced that a well-stocked menagerie of improbably named gods has the power to manipulate our daily lives, each according to their unfathomable talents.

Here's the testimony of Assurbanipal, who ruled Assyria in days of old:
 
After Assur, Sin, Shamash, Adad, Bel, Nabu, Ishtar of Nineveh, queen of Kidmuri, Ishtar of Arbela, Urta, Netgal and Nusku, had caused me to take my seat, joyfully, upon the throne of the father who begot me, Adad sent his rains, Ea opened his fountains, the grain grew 5 cubits tall in the stalk, the ear was 5/6 of a cubit long, heavy crops and a plenteous yield made the fields continuously luxuriant, the orchards yielded a rich harvest, the cattle successfully brought forth their young.
  
Fat bounty from the gods! You just had to make sure to thank them all.

Matters have simplified over the years. We mostly pray to one, semi-unnamed god—a god named God. (Or "Allah," but that's just Arabic for "the god.")

So how'd we get here? Gradually, I would imagine.

But perhaps you've wondered if folks really believed in all those other gods. Answer: Of course they did, and for exactly the same reason we believe in the current Guy.

And to keep the belief machine running smoothly, we pack the sacred information into the blissfully empty skulls of our children, who are biologically helpless to keep it out. By nature, the shorties have to believe anything we put in there: facts, fancies, prejudices, "holy" truths, or murderous political agendas, along with the latest internet-approved conspiracy theories. And once that crap lands in there, it's good to go for the life of the child.

Because we humans have a secret weapon to protect us from legitimate knowledge: Once we're grown, literally everything we see proves us right about whatever unlikely nonsense happens to have been jammed into our brains.

Is it a miracle from God? Beats me. But here's how we do it:

After casual scrutiny of the world, we simply cherry-pick the data in favor of our psycho-content, flip-flopping the meaning of anything that might tend to prove us wrong—should suspect data make it through the tightly-woven mesh of our nearly perfect confirmation bias.

We then present this load of dreck to the part of our brain that is designed to say but one thing in response: "You're right!"

Armed with that happy conclusion we're off to our children's brain-press portal to jam the entire pre-vetted mess into their soft-topped data emporiums.

And the beat goes on. Hooray!