Yes, I said it. As some others have also said in recent weeks, whether in hushed voices away from public hearing or in louder but publicly unwanted declarations of grim warning. If you are black or very possibly if you are not, you have heard the forbidden undercurrent in post-Ferguson Post-Eric-Garner conversation: "It is only a matter of time."
And now that time has arrived. An apparently very troubled black man, Ismaaiyl Brinsley, reportedly shot his ex-girlfriend in Baltimore, hopped a bus to New York City, posted on social media what he had in mind, and then in broad daylight walked up to a squad car and shot to death two New York City police officers, Wenjian Liu and Rafael Ramos. Brinsley reportedly then went to a subway platform and put a bullet in his head.
So many of us act so surprised at this horror. But the elements were there for the seeing. The political and emotional physics of this long-running tragedy have been scrawled in chalk around bodies on sidewalks thousands of times. In New York City, home of Stop-and-Frisk and Broken Windows Policing, the proof has been shouted and pummeled and bulleted into the bodies and psyches of people in black and brown communities for decades upon decades. The equation is ruthless and there is no more running from it: When police steadily harass a population without provocation and arrest without cause and kill without reason, at some point someone on the other end of the gun, most likely a hopeless someone who feels they have nothing left to lose, is going to decide to pick up ammunition and turn the tables.
One-way craziness can only work for so long. At a certain point in a society brimming with guns, a don't-give-a-shit police culture juiced on unprovoked violence will come up against a don't give-a-shit individual juiced on random wanton payback. In this case the trigger, as it turned out, was a video that showed the world an irrefutable example of police atrocity American-style. Followed by a grand jury that shrugged and walked away. It was a moment when terrible forces simply lined up.
You could say, in a way, that Ismaaiyl Brinsley was America's first -- or at least its first recent -- anti-police-brutality suicide bomber: a troubled, mad-with-rage member of a battered population who one day simply lost it and chose to make a last grand gesture of killing two officers of the occupying force. If you feel your blood run cold at that awful parallel, you should.
So here we are, with two police officers, married with wives and children and alive with joys and dreams, shot dead at point-blank range while minding their own business. Their families are shattered, their comrades weep with rage and scream for justice, their spokespersons speak furiously of public leadership that has betrayed them.
And the black and brown communities who police are sworn to serve take a long look at the two bloodied bodies in blue, and they gravely nod and they say to the grieving and the outraged, "Yes, I understand. I know exactly how you feel."