Things Ain’t What They Used To Be (unedited)

The video ends, and for several seconds the room goes silent. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Phil says.

Ben rotates his yellow office chair towards him, saying, “I know, right?! The odds are infinitesimal!”

Phil scratches at the base of his black ponytail. “I don’t even know how I can get surprised by this shit anymore,” he says, “Everyday, it’s something else. We live in a fucking police state. Those fascists probably did it on purpose.”

Laid out on the couch behind them is Felix, who is now staring at the ceiling. “God, can you imagine? I mean…. that poor woman. You’re just out,” he makes a sweeping motion with arms, “walking your baby, and then BOOM!” he says while punching his palm at the exclamation.

Ben pushes the plastic bridge of his glasses to his forehead, then starts the video from the beginning. The room, again, comes under a silence.

Felix sits up from the couch, “But what the hell is she doing there, anyway?” he says. Phil turns to face him, pressing his index finger into Felix’ lips, “Shhhh.” On Ben’s computer screen there is a pixelated woman pushing a baby carriage along a wall of concrete and brick.

“Man, the quality is shit,” Phil says.

“It’s probably a recording from someone’s cell phone,” says Ben.

“It sure looks like it,” Felix says, “I wonder if this would hold up in court?”

A trail of white clouds enters the frame, and then all three shout in unison, “OOOH!”

They watch the mother as she scrambles to remove the canister from the baby carriage as tear gas continues to billow out, into her face. She retrieves it, then throws it from view of camera, and begins violently rubbing her eyes and coughing. Immediately, two armored riot police enter the frame. One of them aims a shotgun at her head while the other kicks her in the lower abdomen and tackles her. The officer with the gun pins her to the ground with a knee between her shoulder blades, while his partner binds her hands with a white ziptie. Through the tinny, granulated sound coming from the computer speakers, she can faintly be heard screaming. 

“The 99% always get screwed,” Felix says as he leans back into couch.

Phil inhales loudly through his nose while clenching his jaw. “People shouldn’t fear their government, government should fear their people,” he says.

“Maybe they do,” Ben says.

“That’s from V For Vendetta, yeah?” Felix asks.

“Hmm,” Ben grunts while generating a flurry of clicking and tapping sounds.

Phil turns to Felix, “That’s a Thomas Jefferson quote, actually.”

“Well,” Felix says in an effeminate, Southern drawl, “I just had no idea how wonderfully damn progressive he was.”

While reading from the screen, Ben says, “When the people fear their government, there is tyranny; when the government fears the people, there is liberty.” He reclines in the chair, locking his fingers behind his head, “The quote was first said by John Basil Barnhill.”

“What? No. Who the fuck is that?” Phil’s brow furrows, “That was definitely Jefferson.”

“Apparently it’s a quote from a debate on socialism that happened iiiiin,” Ben taps a drum roll on his desk as he leans within inches of the screen, “1914. About a hundred years after Jefferson died.”

“Ha!” Felix smiles as he slips his Birkenstocks off the edge of the couch. “Can’t say I’m surprised that a socialist said that. Socialism makes so much more sense than capitalism.”

“Well, it looks like that quote is from a debate between a socialist and a capitalist,” Ben grimaces while loudly sucking air through the corner of his mouth, “and, believe it or not, the capitalist is the one who wrote it.”

“What?” Felix sits back up to squint at the monitor, “Where did you see that?”

“Monticello.org,” Ben says. “It’s a website for tourist information about his old estate in Virginia.”

“I don’t buy it,” says Phil. ”I was always told that Thomas Jefferson said that. Oh, and Monticello was actually a plantation. You’ve got to question the shit your read online. You can’t trust anything anymore. Not like you used to.”

“No shit, man,” Felix says as he leans back into the couch. “Anyone can say anything they want on the internet.”

Phil stares at the monitor, shaking his head. “That site is probably just some Founding Father porn that’s operated by the teabaggers. Those guy will rearrange the facts to fit whatever their agenda is.”

Ben turns to Phil, “You’d think that right wingers would want him to be associated with that phrase, don’t you?”

“But we’re in the information age, man. We’re all connected,” Felix says. “People will find out the truth.”

Phil crosses his arms, “You can’t hide from anyone anymore.”

“Hold on a second,” Ben says, “that quote could be used to to defend the ownership of assault rifles, neoconservative business practices, Citizens United, or to give a feeling of self-righteousness to all those terrified white people that have bumper stickers saying, “Don’t tread on me.”

“Hmm,” Felix raises his arm, as if he’s pointing to something on the ceiling, “or suicide bombers.”

‘Yes,” Phil says, “that’s why you’ve got to think for yourself. You can’t trust…” Phil is interrupted by the phone vibrating in his pocket. Once unmuffled by his canvass pants, the phone fills the room with the sound of Darth Vader’s labored breathing.

“Sweet ringtone,” says Ben.

Phil smiles. “Shit,” he turns and walks towards the door. “I’ll be right back. It’s my mom.”