Rod Amis - Unbound

NEW ORLEANS - 4 June, 2003: Among the many Republican beneficiaries of the 11 September, 2001, disaster in New York City was former Mayor and now Sir Rudolph Guiliani. His "heroism" during that calamitous time for Manhattan white-washed away the fact that it was during his watch that the Abner Louima incidents and Amadou Diallo murder took place, that he oversaw the Disneyfication of Times Square and that thousands of homeless indigents had perished on the streets of that great city. Bringing up his combativeness as Mayor or any of the aforementioned instances of his callousness, and his cavalier disregard for minority, especially Black, citizens of New York City during his tenure is now considered tantamount to heresy by those who have bought into Guiliani's hagiography chapter and verse.

Likewise, George W. Bush and the members of his administration, who regularly turn Black journalists away at the palace gates - as reported by HARRISON CHASTANG of San Francisco's KPOO radio in these pages last year - have been given a free hand for the most far-reaching crackdown on civil liberties in America in the history of the former republic. At the same time, the national unemployment rate has increased by nearly three million with the largest rise in Black employment in twenty years as part of that package, the projected national budget deficit is larger than even during the profligate Reagan years, American troops are occupying more foreign nations than in any time in the country's history and we have entered a footing of perpetual war. All this, again, as a direct result of "heroism" in the weeks following 11 September, 2001. Any criticism of the fact that the American President effectively disappeared for hours after the tragedy or questions about whether the administration could have prevented the incidents are also considered heretical in our new climate of hyper-jingoism and ultra-loyalty.

I bring these facts up again because I am thinking of a movement of that same conservative wind which is being perpetrated here in New Orleans, a place one would consider the least likely for this kind of right-wing, locked-step conversion. This is, or was, supposedly The Big Easy.

On the Tuesday after my own false arrest in New Orleans' French Quarter last month, I was treated to watching one of our local Councilpeople, Jacquelyn Brechtel Clarkson, appear on the local news, flanked by police officers, in Jackson Square. She was celebrating the sweep of the French Quarter that had occurred that previous weekend (when I was incidentally arrested for Walking While Black) which had removed scores of "undesirables" from the streets of her council district. She was effectively taking political credit for what had happened. She practically did a jig similar to that done at Versailles some decades ago.

Councilwoman Clarkson has been engaged since the last election here in such initiatives as:

• pushing a police crackdown on the homeless and juvenile tap-dancers in the French Quarter;
• a proposal to remove park benches from Jackson Square;
• passing an initiative to require street performers and tarot readers in Jackson Square to have special permits and requiring that those without said permits be banned from the Square on threat of arrest;
• police sweeps of the French Quarter in general in which "certain people" are cited for "crimes" such as public intoxication - in a city in which there is no open container law, "go" cups are ubiquitous in bars, etc; and
• encouraging increased vigilance and harassment of bicycle delivery people who work for the local groceries and restaurants who service the communities in the French Quarter, Central Business District and Marigny.

In short, Ms. Clarkson is actively involved in an effort to make New Orleans and particularly the French Quarter, which is in her district, less like New Orleans and more like the suburbs of Kenner and Metairie - or more like Grand Rapids or Peoria, if that can be possible in a city whose bars are open twenty-four hours a day.

This Guilianification of New Orleans has many of the residents of the French Quarter and the adjacent neighborhoods from which it draws its labor force seething. There is simmering talk of a recall effort. Since my own unjust arrest, I have joined those talks.

I have joined those talks because there's a causal link between the attitudes and initiatives Clarkson is promoting and the kind of mistreatment I received at the hands of the New Orleans Police Department (NOPD) and the local criminal justice system. It took fifty-one years of my life to reach a point where I'd experience this kind of patently unjust mistreatment and imprisonment for the very first time. And significantly, as my colleague the News Director of KPOO pointed out, what happened to me could have happened to ANY Black man, simply by virtue of our race.

People like Clarkson (and yes, Guiliani) create a climate in which the police - never the most sensitive of individuals to begin with - take it as a given that it's okay to "lean on" poor people and minorities of every stripe and claim they are (merely) attempting to improve the quality of life for the "average" citizens of the community. If a few innocents get roughed up or screwed (as I have been) or even die (as Amadou Diallo) did, things happen but that doesn't mitigate the good result of the effort. That appears to be their warped reading of the situation. "Wrong guy? Gosh, too bad."

They do not for a moment, in their zeal to "clean up" the city, take into the account the emotional, financial, physical or psychological damage they cause the innocents caught up in their wide nets. They neither take this multilevel violence into account nor feel they need to make recompense for it. They shrug their shoulders and look the other way, proudly. This type of cynical injustice must not be allowed to stand or thrive anywhere.

• I had two job interviews scheduled for the Monday following my Sunday night arrest. In the first instance, someone else I know got the job, in the second a hiring freeze was instituted while I was inside.
• When I finally did find an attorney capable and energetic enough to get me out of Orleans Parish Prison, it was to find that my roommate had rented out my room in our apartment. He was afraid that, considering the circumstances, I might not get out for months.
• As I've told my closest friends recently, one effect of what I experienced at the hands of the NOPD is that I am now always uneasy while walking the streets. I feel that I could be taken away at any moment. I sympathize more than ever with rape victims, who speak of the sense of being insecure, at risk, wherever they are. I know that feeling viscerally on the streets of New Orleans now that I know I can be arrested and held indefinitely at any time simply for Walking While Black.

Yes, I feel violated, because I was.

---

Rod Amis

ONE OF THE CONDITIONS OF MY BOND is that I do a weekly drug test. I did the first one on the Wednesday after I got out of Orleans Parish Prison. My attorney joked, "You're the first client I've ever had who tested clean."

Nonetheless, the officer of the court decided to schedule my next test for the following Monday. (I assumed that her logic was that if I were going to do drugs, I'd be more prone to do them on a weekend.) I've been going in on Mondays ever since. I always test clean, of course. But thus far the officer of the court has either:

1. Forgotten our appointment after I showed up at her office to let her know I was there and left the building without telling me;
2. Never managed to send me the summons confirming my weekly appointments; or
3. As in the last instance, failed to appear at all.

For our very first appointment, scheduled for nine in the morning, she showed up at one p.m. That's American Justice, New Orleans Style.

My attorney and I met for drinks before I went to work this weekend. "Rod, I have to tell you something: not only did you test clean, like I told you, but it's obvious you're the kind of guy who doesn't even take aspirins. That's how clean it was."

"You're surprised by this?" I asked.

"An innocent person is the worst kind of client a criminal lawyer can have," she told me, suddenly serious. "If I lose, I know I've really failed you. I'd rather you were guilty of something, even if not this charge. But now that I know you ... "

"Baby," I said, "everybody is guilty of something. They just busted me on the wrong charge. If lack of trust was a crime, you'd have to fight hard as hell to keep me out of jail."

She didn't laugh.

"Just kidding," I said.

---

Make a Commitment to Justice.
Donate to Rod Amis' Legal Defense

Read the full story of our publisher's unjust incarceration in this week's GLASS HOUSE * SPECIAL REPORT Organizations and individuals in New Orleans are organizing to help Rod fight his unjust arrest and charges. You can help, too. If you'd like to throw a house party, benefit concert, or other event, it would be mammothly appreciated. For information on how you can help our publisher meet his legal defense costs, send an e-mail with the SUBJECT LINE "FOR JUSTCE" by following this link.

6 June, 2003: MATT JUST WALKED DOWN THE STAIRCASE from my apartment. We rolled in from Buffa's, another local tavern. Like Shawn, like Jak - despite the fact that I am the most destitute of us all and am facing massive legals fees - he came over to drink the last of my beers and then have me pay for his cocktails. I have such wonderful friends.

When we got back, I put a pot of potatoes on to boil. My dinner. Yeah, I was smart enough to buy potatoes, but I can't afford much else.

Matt had no compunction about taking my last dollar. He doesn't listen.

While we sat at Buffa's I noticed that it was problematic for him when other people, including the bartender, wanted to tell their stories rather than listen to his.

The bartender, Sarah, said to me - while we were sharing our horoscopes from the Times-Picayune: "I never think of you as an Aries because you're so quiet. Most Aries are so blabby. They mouth on and on."

The irony of her statement was lost on Matt.

I listen. That is what writers do.

I think that's why I appreciate my current roommate so much. He's young and self-absorbed, of course, but he at least has the capacity to listen. He doesn't act as if most of the other people around him are scenery or go out of his way to denigrate the accomplishments of others. And, oh yes, he's fastidiously clean. Long-time readers know how much I appreciate cleanliness. Clutter drives me absolutely bonkers. There are never sinks full of dishes here. One or the other of us would go crazy. One of my roommate's inamoratas teases that he's obsessive-compulsive.

"What's wrong with that?" I quip.

---

7 June, 2003: I GOT SOME GOOD NEWS, finally, from my attorney yesterday. A new Deputy Chief of Trials was recently appointed and after a conversation with my lawyer about my case, she has decided to have my charges re-screened. There is the possibility that, upon a second look at the circumstances, my charges will be quashed. I'm praying.

I was awakened this morning by a telephone call from The Police Complaint Center where I filed an online complaint yesterday. After hearing a precis of my story, they agreed that I definitely had an actionable complaint, but suggested that I hold off on proceeding with it until after we know the disposition of my case.

"The police tend to retaliate," I was advised. "So until we know the final outcome of your case, you don't want to do anything to upset them at this stage."

Once we know which way the District Attorney's office is going to go, if I'll still need to bear the expense of a trial or not, then we'll proceed with the police misconduct investigation.

Lots of you here have responded to the call to assist me with my legal defense. I'm grateful. People here in New Orleans have also stepped forward to offer aid in the form of more benefit parties. My friend Lorelei is trying to organize one at The Abbey, Donny Jay of the drag band Slut Puppies is planning one as a favor to my attorney and the local rock band Happy Face is also planning one for July. Some of you have already sent e-mails to my attorney.

---

I AM MORE AND MORE CONVINCED that what is needed in our society, urgently, is a greater focus on acuity of thought. Just as we appreciate clarity and precision in our sense of sight, we should encourage it on how we think and analyze our social and political environment. For example, when I discussed with an acquaintance the notion of a causal link between the type of environment Jackie Clarkson is attempting to create here in New Orleans and the attitudes of the police about what is permissible behavior, he was amazed that I would analyze the situation in that light. Amazed and admiring, I can happily say. "Most people don't bother to connect all the dots that way," he commented.

But most people should, is my position. When we don't, too many of our rights can slip away. Politicians and plutocrats depend on us not to have acuity of thought. That is how they get away with the crimes against humanity they commit.

With that in mind, I have recently been retreating into the writings of Palestinian writer Edward Said. As with the many years when I would annually go back and read Bertrand Russell, it is an exercise in keeping my mental muscle engaged, a workout for the grey matter, if you will. With Said, one not only gets to grapple with a sharp mind but also gains a renewed appreciation of the sense of marginal displacement that so many people feel today. I have lived like a refugee myself for so long that I take a certain comfort in knowing that others feel that existential sense of alienation and orphanage, too.

What is refreshing about Said's writing is that it celebrates the unique perspective that being outside of the club of conventional opinion affords one. He posits that the world needs more voices that are not part of the popular chorus, more dissenters and people who don't look at the world, power, politics or language in the usual ways. This is a philosophy with which I wholeheartedly agree. I go so far as to believe that it is not enough to only think differently, but that it is also imperative that at least some of us be willing to pay the price of living differently as well.

I certainly have gotten my share of calumny (see last week's regular "Glass House") for my own willingly to live differently.

ON THAT TIP, I was approached by someone mentioned here, while out after a long night of work, someone who had wronged me, asking me not to mention them again in these pages. I said I shan't and I won't again.

What I found ironic about the encounter was that I wouldn't have mentioned this person here again if one of their friends hadn't physically threatened me on his behalf. So I just said: "Nobody in New Orleans reads my magazine." And I thought: What's the big deal? If you didn't do anything wrong to me, why are you concerned about what I think or what I say?

Apparently I had to make a verbal commitment not to mention how I had been fucked again. So I did.

I must believe that those of you who have responded to my cry for help with my charges feel there is some value in living differently or have found something in what is offered here to make you encourage my eccentricity. I thank you.

---

EVERYBODY HAS TO DO SOMETHING to keep body and soul together. After pounding the pavement for days pursuing what leads I had, I was again at wit's end. That's when God threw his own fool a job at a sushi bar.

Most of my co-workers are Vietnamese. You wouldn't know it though, listening to them talk. Everybody is "dog" and "nigga". These kids are more down with the 'hood than I am. Their parlance is one step away from the joint, Yerm. ("Yerm" is New Orleanese for "You hear me?" A synonymous term is "Herm" which means, "Hear me?" As in, "Black was buggin', Yerm/Herm!") Because of the characteristic (often joked about) problem with the "R" sound, nobody at work calls me by my name. Everybody calls me, "Brother." That's okay, I am brother to the world after all ...

Things I Need This Week

1. For the New Orleans District Attorney's Office to realize the absurdity of my case and drop it, as it deserves.

2. A new bar for The Rod Show.

3. The money to cover my legal expenses until reason prevails.

---

Thanks for coming back this week.

"Work like you don't need the money,
"Love like you've never been hurt,
"Dance like no one is watching..."
Rod

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ROD AMIS has published this magazine since 1990. It first appeared as a hardcopy 'Zine. In March, 1996, he launched it here on the Web. Rod was a Contributing Editor at Suite101.com, where he wrote the " 'Net Publishing" feature. His work has been featured in the San Francisco Bay Guardian Online, NRV8, and at WebLab's Reality Check site. Rod was also a contributing writer on technology for Faulkner Information Services. He wrote on Web issues for MethodFive.com's Hyper newsletter.

Rod was a columnist for the Andover News Network, where he wrote over two hundred articles on web design and development issues. He was also principal writer and Editor for IT Manager's Journal, where he reviewed technology issues weekly, producing 383 editorials. He became the Managing Editor for Electronic Mail/Newsletter Publications at Andover.net at the end of February, 2000, and left in September of the same year. He was a contributing writer for ACCESS magazine, which appeared both on- and offline for 10 million readers in 100 newspapers like the San Francisco Chronicle, New York Post, Boston Herald, Austin American-Statesman, Denver Post and Orlando Sentinel, among others. Rod was the US reporter for Silicon.com, a division of Network Multimedia Television in London, UK, reaching 3.5 million European readers, until May, 2001.

Last year he worked as Assistant to the General Manager of a Big Easy company that does restaurants and nightclubs. (Think: The Boy.) Oh yeah, Rod's had Day Jobs working construction. Mostly renovations of old New Orleans structures, houses and a bar. Sometimes he designs Web sites for other people so that he can get his creative juices flowing the way he can't at a staid publication like this one. And he's been the instructor in Editing for Internet Publications at the Novi Sad School of Journalism in Yugoslavia. Right now our Resident Philosopher has left the pantheon of New Orleans bartenders and still doesn't know when he'll have a "permanent residence" that he likes.. He's decided that maybe it's time to be an entrepreneur again. Working with "employees" and Bosses doesn't suit his temperament. In his spare time, he chases women in the manner that a fly pursues a spider.

Rod lives in New Orleans, Louisiana. This town is eroding his normal sense of driven purpose. He wants to live somewhere civilized when he grows up. Wish him Luck.

He continues to be committed to integrity, chastity and a dose of humility.

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