Before my son was killed in Iraq, I wouldn’t say that I “respected” or “feared” authority—that’s never been in my nature. However, looking back, I think I was terrified of crossing the proverbial line. Relating my rude awakening and experiences since then, I know that the line is drawn by the violent empire and arbitrarily re-drawn whenever it suits the needs of the police state.
After my son Casey was killed in a U.S. imperial war based on lies and waged for profit and I became an anti-empire activist, I have been arrested too many times to keep track.
I stopped counting at 20.
Besides the frustration of being “popped” for exercising my so-called constitutional rights, the many, many hours I have spent in jail have been ultra eye opening to me.