I made a mini-love letter to the people of Los Angeles in the form of a 30 second video.
First is a clip of today’s police brutality march where 1,000+ of us shut down some streets of downtown LA. It was partially in solidarity with events in Ferguson, but mainly in memory of the multiple unarmed men of color the police have killed in our own city in the past couple of weeks. It’s ridiculous that this is so common of an occurrence. Apparently, someone else got shot by LAPD during our protest mere blocks away.
Shortly after, a few minute walk away, I came upon a three-block long oval of elderly Japanese women performing a choreographed dance routine to Pharrell’s “Happy.” It was cute and kind of a culture shock after shouting at the LAPD… yet also, in a weird way, kind of fitting.
We got a lot of work to do, Los Angeles; keep being awesome in the meantime.
This is absolutely disgusting! Instead of spending that money to help homeless people, you know some of the weakest members of our society who need the protection the most, they’re installing fucking spikes!? (That btw, you paid for.) And you have to pay to sit on a fucking bench? I’m guessing that money will also go to another horrible idea… I would almost get a load of old couches and dump them everywhere those stupid spikes are.
The thing is, we could solve the homelessness problem, but no, no, we have to terrorize them because showing compassion would only be humane and that is something humanity outgrew ages ago.
The top one is the International Space Station as it glides over Los Angeles. It goes all the way around the earth every 90 minutes! But you can’t see it during the day (too bright) or in the middle of the night (no reflection from the sun).
The second is a broken Sig Alert traffic camera that tipped towards the ground.
The interior had changed not at all since I went to school there over 30 years ago. Same textured walls, built in cabinets, blue classroom doors, same green linoleum.
I loved going to school here. The kids that went there all lived in the neighborhood. Our parents knew each other. We played at the same park every summer. The teachers were some of the best I’ve had. They would read novels to us while we made drawings, something I now do for a living.
Standing on the playground, it was totally silent except for a tether ball chain pinging against it’s pole, like something from a strange and beautiful dream.