Monday, February 20, 2012

SMOKE GOT SMOKED

This man, Callion Hamblin AKA Smoke, was gunned down today by “the law;”
his blood stains our streets.

Tell Us Another One, Park Hills Daily Journal..! 



Who needs AT&T when we've already got Washington U. Professor Stanley Elkin to give us the 411? A dead man speaking up from the grave on behalf of another dead man. This excerpt is from The Bailbondsman, one of three novellas in Searches and Seizures.

“Mr. Main, it's Command Performanceville,” he says softly.
Oh, he's very sinister. “Why didn't you say Command Performanceville in the first place? Command Performanceville's another story. For Command Performanceville my commission is thirty percent.”
“Drinks all around,” he says agreeably. “I'll put you in the picture.”
“I read the book, I seen the picture. Your man downtown calls my man downtown who tells me your lad is under arrest. It's strictly offside vis-a-vis the other bondsmen, but I get to him first, arrange the bail, and he steps out into the sunshine a free man.”
“A hundred percent.”
“That will be sixty-five hundred dollars please.”
“C.O.D.”
“C.O.D.?”
“Phoenecian, Mr. Main, I'm a sporty young man. I drive fast cars fast. How would it look I was picked up for speeding and the cops found sixty-five hundred bucks on me? Use your kepeleh. Did we know you drive such a hard bargain.”
“I drive hard bargains hard.”
“Of course, of course. You'll be paid. The handle plus thirty percent. You'll get registered mail. Who's more honest than a syndicate man?”
“Then why do you speed?” I ask gloomily.
But there's reason on the young fellow's side. We shake and he leaves. The little bakery bell jingles behind him. Mr. Crainpool looks at me reproachfully, sorrow in his eyes like the toothache. “Something on your mind, Jiminy Cricket?”
“No, sir.”
“What would happen if I refused? Fetterman would do it, or Klein. Adams would. Does Macy tell Gimbel?”
“It's only fifteen hundred dollars after the forfeit.”
“Oh ho. I see where it is with you. It's alright to finger a man, just make sure you get a good price. Mr. Crainpool, kid, my finger comes cheap. If they ask how I do it, say it's my terrific turnover.”
“Yes, sir.”
“We would rather be a banker in a fine suit. We would rather conduct discreet business over drinks at the club. Heart to heart, man to man, gentlemen's agreements and a handshake between friends. We would prefer silver at our temples and a portrait in oils in the marble lobby. But...”




The human family lost a brother, father, son, and friend today; we are all diminished.
For all of you cannibals out there who prefer dark meat, those of you on Facebook and elsewhere who  have expressed your glee at a “nigger” being bagged, and the rest of you who kept your traps shut while they did; here's a knock-knock joke written by me especially for you:

Knock, knock.

Who's there?

Justice.

Justice who?

Justice many people will laugh their asses off when it's your turn to be bagged as they did today when it happened to Smoke.

5 comments:

  1. Every day, in every way... the world is more ripe for revolution

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  2. Awesome blog, i was speechless because of all the ignorance when i saw everybody on Facebook talk about how brave our local policemen are.

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  3. Here's the follow-up article. http://dailyjournalonline.com/farmington/news/hamblin-dies-after-exchange-of-gunfire-with-police/article_04c633be-5c90-11e1-9e9a-0019bb2963f4.html Say something often enough...Yeah, he got the "treatment" alright. I drove by the scene of the assassination, yellow police tape flapping in the considerable wind. No flowers. Not a single bouquet. Any rappers out there looking for a song and need some help writing it? Come see me at The Factory, Booth #148.

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  4. Fortunate are those in my facebook feed that chose not to profess such bile within my sight range. If I had read any such hate speak, you can bet I would have ranted loud enough to bring down the roof! This angers me to no end! I have been sick, and busy, and have to admit I have not read the articles regarding this. I only heard grave word of mouth. I am all about freedom of speech but would not have hesitated to go off on anyone of my friends spouting such venom! Then shortly thereafter they would not be my friends.

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  5. In Hate Speech, Sex Speech, Free Speech (Praeger, Westport CT) 1997, Nicholson Wolfson says that hate speech “tears the weave of the community in which the speech is made, breaks down civil discourse and incites weak-minded onlookers to similar thoughts and words.” (47)

    He continues: “I personally believe that racist and sexist insults and epithets harm the listener, but I confess I do not know the amount of permanence of the alleged harm with scientific certitude.” (56)

    In Opposing Hate Speech (Praeger, Westport CT) 2006, Anthony Cortese stages hate speech like a pathology. (8)

    Stage 1: Unintentional Discrimination (Offending Minorities, But Not on Purpose)

    Stage 2: Conscious Discrimination (Intentionally Denigrating Minorities)

    Stage 3: Inciting Discriminatory Hatred (Generating Feelings of Hatred for Minorities)

    Stage 4: Inciting Discriminatory Violence (Encouraging Violence Against Minorities)

    To make matters worse, and this goes to Matt's very astute comment about people identifying with the "victor"/oppressor, on Tuesday evening a group (a dozen or so) of Callion's mourners tried to hold a candlelit vigil at the scene where he died of "multiple gunshot wounds." A friend who attended told me that they were in a circle, heads bowed in prayer when three Farmington cop cars drove up. No one got the chance to even say "amen" before the police officers evicted them from the "private property" where their friend had perished. Total disrespect to Callion's minyan, but not surprising. The word COP actually means Constable of Property.

    Callion, I'm told, is to be buried on Saturday in St. Louis. His birth mother, with whom he had reconnected just some months ago, is absorbing the funeral expenses. I don't know if his eleven year-old son will be there, or not.

    It's all so lose/lose for Farmington--blood on the main drag, that things got so terribly out of hand--one wonders how it was allowed to occur, and why no one is being held accountable for the disgraceful mess and tragic results.

    The St. Louis Post Dispatch article is even more pernicious in my estimation than the local ones; they paint his shooting as a sort of inevitable if fortunate result of Cal's personal choices, as if that were all that were at work.

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