Shades of instigated brutality….

The kid who throws himself into the maws of armed men wears a backpack made in china. And another’s precious albuterol inhaler that is screamed for in full breath, not from lungs collapsed and swollen…. can easily be replaced (by his mother or his wife or his girlfriend or his loved one) down the street at the walgreens where his insurance is accepted.
Black-uniformed arms struggle to subdue a fat young woman thrashing, emboldened by her latest meal.  she screams “get off of me”; her voice echoes against the still bodies of those who have encircled her…. of those whom she claims are entrapping her; the camera catches her doughy double chin as she yells.
And a young man named Jason bends his legs in theatrics (not out of the weakness that starvation brings) as he’s carried off still by those other members of the “99%”

I know somewhere, somehow, this revolution will lead to something.  I know good, incensed hearts spurn revolution and that voices do not have to be gurgled in blood our mouths dry with lack of water to deserve to cry out against corruption… but something is just not quite right….. about this one… this revolution coming from cozy America

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