On Ferguson, Listening, and Believing
I don't have a catchy angle for this one, folks. No hook. No pithy observation or witticism to capture your attention. I have only the stomachache that kept me up last night, one prompted by what's going on two-thirds of the way across in the country. In Ferguson, Missouri. Believe me, I'm as surprised as any of you that this whole Ferguson thing is eliciting any thought from me at all. What does it matter to me? For one thing, I live in Oregon. Geographically, Ferguson could not be less on my radar. Additionally, I have had maybe one or two run ins with police in my whole life, none of them significant (traffic ticket, maybe some domestic dispute when I was a kid). Plus, ya know, I've got that whole, white guy thing going. I have a few black friends, but none I've had the opportunity to sit down with and discuss the particulars of this situation. So what's my deal? To be totally honest, on a purely intellectual level I don't actually understand what's ...