Central Booking
The story of one man's arrest (for sitting in the street) at an Occupy Wall Street protest. Incredibly interesting and pretty depressing:
What does it all add up to? I went out into the street and got arrested because I was angry that the cops had tackled our drummer; irritated that most of the Wall Street types walking by could be so contemptuous of people who were more committed, more engaged, more interested in the future of this country than they are; and because I was curious—about what the process of arrest was like, what the inside of a jail was like. I learned more than I expected to. To be on the other side of the law-and-order machine in this country is awful. It is dehumanizing, and degrading, and deforming. It fills you with a helpless rage: because, once there, you can only make things worse for yourself by speaking up. From the brown phone in our cell at the Tombs, I'd called Emily a few times, and I called the office of n+1, the magazine where I'm an editor. But it felt like those people, my friends, might as well have been on a different planet. They could do what they pleased when they pleased. We could not. I left the world of jail with plenty of relief but more than anything with a sense of unease that I still can't quite shake.
2 December 2011 02:00pm UTC • 33 views • 0 comments
Tagged with occupywallstreet, jail, arrest
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