Outrageous When?

I am younger than Trump. I didn’t live in New York. However we seem to share a habit that was common to my neighborhood and his. In black culture it was known as “Yo mama” or “the dozens”. Here is what the lazy man’s reference, Wikipedia’s says:

The Dozens is a game of spoken words between two contestants, common in black communities of the United States, where participants insult each other until one gives up. It is customary for the Dozens to be played in front of an audience of bystanders, who encourage the participants to reply with increasingly egregious insults in order to heighten the tension and, consequently, make the contest more interesting to watch. Playing the Dozens is also known as “blazing”, “hiking”, “roasting”, “capping”, “clowning”, “ranking”, “ragging”, “rekking”, “crumming”, “sounding”, “checkin”, “joning”, “woofing”, “wolfing”, “skinning”, “sigging”, “scoring” or “signifying”,[1][2] while the insults themselves are known as “snaps”.[3][4]

Comments in the game focus on the opposite player’s intelligence, appearance, competency, social status, and financial situation. Disparaging remarks about the other player’s family members are common, especially about mothers (“yo′ mama…”).[5]

Commentary is often related to sexual issues, where the game is then referred to as the “Dirty Dozens”.[6]

According to sociologist Harry Lefever and journalist John Leland, the game is almost exclusive to African Americans; other ethnic groups often fail to understand how to play the game and can take remarks in the Dozens seriously.[note 1] Both males and females participate, but the game is more commonly played among males of varying social status.[1]

The importance of mothers in African and African-American families is at the heart of the game: insulting someone else’s mother is sure to inflame the passions of the other player.

I learned how to play with a guy from the North End of Boston. If the reader knows anything about Boston in the 70’s, it would be safe to assume my mentor was not black. Two dago’s going at it. We thought it was great fun. We declared a draw when onlookers pulled us apart fearing a fight that was never on the horizon.

Trump’s Twitters is nothing more than the dozens in the era of the Internet. To the initiated it’s great fun. To others not in the know, it’s even more fun to the initiated.

Here is an example of Trump playing the dozens, masterfully I might add.

A little after 8 a.m. on July 20, 2001, a couple arriving for an appointment opened an unlocked front door at an office in the Florida panhandle town of Fort Walton Beach and discovered a woman lying on the floor, dead. Her name was Lori Kaye Klausutis and she was just 28.

The police said they found no signs of foul play. The medical examiner concluded her lonely death was an accident. She had fainted, the result of a heart condition, and hit her head on a desk, he said.

Now, nearly 20 years later, Klausutis’s death has captured the attention of the country’s most prominent purveyor of conspiracy theories — the president of the United States — who has without evidence speculated that she might have been murdered and that the case should be reopened.

The reason for President Donald Trump’s fixation: At the time of her death, Klausutis was working for a Republican congressman from Pensacola named Joe Scarborough — the same Scarborough who today, as host of MSNBC’s “Morning Joe,” is a fierce critic of Trump and has in recent weeks decried the president’s handling of the coronavirus pandemic as a failure.

“A lot of interest in this story about Psycho Joe Scarborough,” Trump tweeted Sunday, the latest in a string of recent tweets on the matter in which the president has unleashed a torrent of false allegations, mischaracterizations and baseless rumors.

Left out of the Powerline story is this tidbit supplied by a Powerline reader.

Scarborough is on tape yukking it up with Don Imus about having an affair with an employee in his congressional office and having to kill her. After Scarborough himself did that on a national radio program, no one can complain about Trump or anyone else bringing it up.

Kebas (Powerline commenter

Did Scarborough kill his staffer? Don’t know and don’t care. Trump threw his comment out there. He used less than 280 characters to do it. Scarborough, his fellow travelers and defenders will cause paper mills to put on a third shift defending him.

When I was a cop I evolved from the dozens to what I called “mind fuck” to control a situation. Somebody else wrote a book and gave seminars in what they called “verbal judo.” I had more fun.

The verbal judo proponents proposed eliminating words that could trigger a confrontation. Take a traffic stop.

A police officer uses the seven step approach and begins his spiel. “The reason you were stopped is I checked you on radar at X miles-an-hour. The speed limit is Y. Is there any emergency? Can I see your license and proof of insurance? You will receive a citation. According to the verbal judo folks I, you and your are triggering worlds.

Makes sense for somebody who has never written a traffic ticket. Here is what really is going on. About twenty percent of cops killed, in any given year are shot conducting traffic stops. Some of them never got to say a word.

What’s a cop to do? The only way to stop doing traffic stops is to become a crime prevention hero or some other office pogue. Or, a real cop can develop tactics and strategies to gain an advantage.

My approach was to subject the driver to a variety of problems that needed to be addressed. “Good afternoon, evening, etc police need to see you driver;s license and insurance. Radar checked your speed at X in a Y zone. What type of work do you do? Where are you headed? Is everything correct on your driver’s license?” Same spiel every time. Yup, I have said good morning at ten at night. Not intentionally but it adds to the confusion.

Number one I didn’t have to think about what I was going to say. It was pretty automatic. The driver, meanwhile has to formulate a response. He just got stopped by the police. Good afternoon is quickly going to hell. Good or evil intents, the driver has to play for time. Until there is an opening.

While the driver processes my requests. I am employing tactics that do not supply the opening. I am using the time cushion I have created to scan the vehicle interior, the driver, other occupants.

Questions about destination, starting point and destination are not about the answer but the response.

Consider if the driver was a burglar fleeing his latest crime. His reaction regarding occupation, starting point, destination, and occupation may trigger a response not consistent with “Joe” driver.

I guess it worked. I’m still here.

Then there is the outrageous statement. It was a Super Bowl Sunday. As the evening shift sergeant, I was drinking coffee with the day shift sergeant, shortly after shift change. I had a pair of “shit magnets” working for me. A shit magnet can turn a mundane call into a SWAT situation in the blink of an eye. Put two of them together…

Half time rolled around and a call went out for a disturbance at a public housing project. My two shit magnets responded. My fellow sergeant and I decided to respond to watch the dynamic duo in action.

On arrival I saw the two officers standing back to back. They were between two shouting factions. Each side had about four participants and were composed of black and Chicano males. Mostly it was shouting and arm waving. Each side had a rooting section of girlfriends, babies mamas, ten year old homeboys with a sprinkling of grandmothers.

I sensed that given that the halftime show stunk, this was better entertainment. This was not a sentiment shared by the magnets. They had nightsticks in hand but had not started swinging, yet. As I walked up, I produced my Acme Thunderer whistle, pulled a handkerchief out of my pocket, blew the whistle, threw the handkerchief and pointed at one set of opponents. I declared them “offside” with the proper NFL signal and assessed a five yard penalty. Shoulders slumped and the offenders stepped off five yards. The crowd quieted down.

The dynamic duo took charge and heard from each group. It turns out they had a TV set up in the backyard and all were watching the game (together). An argument started over a call. There was some disagreement as to who started it and the two sides surged together. This drew a penalty for unsportsmanlike like conduct and a fifteen yard penalty. The offenders stepped back, this time with snickers and sheepish grins. The supporters on both sides were laughing. Halftime was nearing an end. The would be combatants declared they would rather watch the game together, than go to jail.

I never tried that tactic again. I figured once was enough.

Crooks have this belief that they are the smartest people in the room. Miranda may a fine legal concept. It is lousy psychology. It doesn’t matter that the officer has told them that: “You have the right to remain silent.” Most of the time they won’t shut up.

My reply to crooks who whine, “I’m sorry.” Was to reply.”I know you are.” The smarter ones knew I wasn’t accepting their apology, but commenting on their personality.

When I started in law enforcement this symbol was popular. It was often accompanied by an admonition to have: “A Nice Day!

Have a nice day!

I beat that phrase to death. A neutral contact got a poker faced “Have A Nice Day! An irate confrontation with or without a trip to jail got the same, only accompanied by a shit eating grin. The message usually conveyed. The spoken word hid a deeper meaning.

As a person, I think that President Trump is probably an asshole. That doesn’t make him wrong or incapable. I think he is more right than wrong.

There are degrees of assholedom. I think he was self made and worked hard to get there. One self-made asshole to another, I respect that.