The days leading up to the race are a party unlike any I have ever seen. Music festivals like Bonnarroo and the like all pale in comparison to Indy. There are somewhere on the order of 500,000 people there. Indy is held over labor day weekend. The central Indiana air is just starting to show signs of summer with healthy doses of heat and humidity. The area around the track smells like exhaust, ethanol, Busch Light and Porto-johns. Streets, Fields and parking lots filled with tents, campers, buses, cars, people and Jumbo BBQ turkey leg stands. Fried food, scam artist vendors, ticket scalpers, hustlers, drunken hillbillies and all manner of humanity crowd the streets. The sense of mayhem in the air is palpable. It would be interesting to know how much CO2 is created, how many breasts are photographed and how many people get the shit kicked out of them by other race fans and or the police.
So far the picture painted looks like the recipe for a weekend of fantastic debauchery. For most it is. However, for those unlucky enough to run into the Neo-Nazi, Gestapo law enforcement agencies of greater Indianapolis the weekend becomes one filled with risk and ominous overtones of grave personal danger at the hands of these pigs.
As I'm sure you can guess this is building up to the tale of my encounter with this ruthless gang of thugs I speak of. First a few tales of viciousness must be related.
Date line May 2009. Several officers are involved in a high speed pursuit with a suspect accused of some sort of miss deed. After an extended chase the decision to PIT was made. The opportunity presented its self and the maneuver was executed. As a result the car rolled three times and the suspects body was ejected from the window and his head was crushed by his own car. If the story was to end here it would be an unfortunate accident or perhaps even a tragedy. But it doesn't. After the accident, as the suspect lifeless body lay on the ground with brains and blood pouring form his skull onto the asphalt, 5 police officers exited their vehicles and engaged in a sadistic Lord of the Flies style blood orgy and beat the mans lifeless corpse with their law enforcement clubs.
In the defense of the officers, the dead man could have been resisting and they did just start new steroid cocktails that morning so their testosterone levels were higher than that of a full grown bull African elephant.
Weeks earlier a man was tazed to death by the over zealous Indianapolis Metro PD. While the details of this encounter are bit more hazy. The fact remains that tazing someone to death is a sign of excessive force. We've all seen the footage of douche bag news reporters and drunken rednecks on COPS being tazed. To the best of my knowledge they all lived. Some even got up and continued to fight. Call me crazy but I think he may have been tazed by several of those blood thirsty mutant hall monitors of the world.
So here I am walking through the drug, alcohol and ethanol induced scene from Sodom and Gomorrah in Speedway, Indiana. As I walk around I'm treated a glimpse of the animal nature of humanity. Around one corner is a mass of people flocking to a man with a PA, a microphone and loud music blaring. " I need some bitches in front shakin' their asses or I'm turning the music off, " he says into the microphone. Happily females emerge from the crowd and gladly comply with his demands. It's amazing how much power loud music and a microphone gives a person.
Around another corner girls are flashing ' Titties for beads'. " Hell yeah, Show 'em," yells toothless Joe from the crowd. When did this become Mardi Gras, I think to myself. Of course I love seeing random girls flashing their breast so I don't offer any objection. There's a good chance I yell 'Show 'em' once or twice myself.
Minutes later I come across a man on the ground who has been beaten bloody and unconscious by multiple assailants. At first I thought he was dead as he lay on the ground leaking hemoglobin. When he miraculously sat up and started spitting up teeth and blood I was relieved that I didn't have to preform CPR and moved on.
Now it's to the edge of a main road to see who's crazy enough to drive through this madness. Here there's another band of goons surrounding cars full of girls that pass, rocking them back and forth and screaming the Indy 500 Battle cry, 'Show 'em bitch'.
Being in the middle of all this made me feel anonymous. The copious amounts of Coors light and the situation I found myself in called for the indulgence in herbal medicine. Seeing all the lunacy around me I felt there would be no need to conceal my activities.
Step 1) Roll Doobie
Step 2) Smoke Doobie
Only minutes after the first pull from my glorious jib I had painstakingly rolled I'm surrounded by Indianapolis's' most dangerous gang.
"More a muscle and I'll break your fucking face with this flashlight, cocksucker," barks officer Roid Rage.
I'm caught like a deer in the head lights. Wasted, high and completely unable to explain myself. The situation seem like a bad dream. Most of what I recall after that is verbal abuse and rough treatment. I've dealt with many law enforcement agencies and never have I been afraid for my personal safety. You could smell the testosterone and see the violent glee in their eyes. Like a pack of Hyena's waiting for me to run or show weakness so they could tear my flesh from my bones and eat my organs. Looking for any excuse to attack. The only thing that can describe this kind of behavior is the need for sexual gratification through gang violence or perhaps they had started yet another new steroid cocktail that morning.
At one point a call came over the radio that a 16 yr old girl was resisting and back up would be required. Who knows what resisting means? I think in Indiana consciousness may constitute resisting arrest. When officer Roid Rage heard the call his eyes lit up. "Damn I'd love to get my hands on that one." I'm not sure if he wanted to beat her or fuck her. Just as quickly as his eyes lit up with excitement you could see the joy begin to fade and his posture start to slump as he realized he'd miss the bust.
From there I was taken to a processing facility. The rest of the story is 20 hours of boredom and exhaustion. But what was striking to me was how many people in jail where beaten, bloody and battered by the hands of the police at the race track. Of course all of them claim that their injuries where for nothing and lamented police brutality. When you hear one or two stories like that in jail you tend to take it with a grain of salt. When it's 15 or more identical tales you start to question the integrity and the tactics of the police force.
My experience leads me to believe that there is a dangerous animalistic element in the Law enforcement agencies of Indianapolis. Officer Roid Rage is among the worst. It's only a matter of time before he strangles and fucks to death some helpless suspect he has in cuffs.
Stay away from Indianapolis. It's a city filled with thugs for police and it's largest industry is the judicial system. I always new I hated Indiana, now I have a good reason.
The situation isn't over yet. I've made bail and fled to Virgina. I go back to learn my fate in September.
TO BE CONTINUED. (Trial set for September 16, 2009)
