Actor Jesse Archer (Slutty Summer, A Four Letter Word) says he was cutting through the large, empty main room of Grand Central Station on his way home from a party on Friday night with a friend when he did a cartwheel. Archer was then fined by a group of police for "disorderly conduct". As Archer returned to his friend after the citation, he says he uttered an expletive to him about the cops and was then tackled from behind Here is what went down via his blog:
Police Brutality - New York's Finest!
Now I can add arrested in Grand Central Station to my resume! On Friday night, I was walking back to the subway with my friend Stace, about 1:30 in the morning after a friend's birthday party at the Grace Hotel. We cut through the giant main room of Grand Central, and it was really empty so I did a cartwheel. The police called me over, and gave me a ticket for "disorderly conduct". A cartwheel! Are you gonna give every 9 year-old who does a cartwheel a ticket?
It was so unbelievable, and I let them know it. But when they were done issuing me the citation, I start walkinig toward my friend Stace who was waiting nearby. Facing him, not the cops, I utter an expletive about the cops, and next thing I know I'm being tackled by several policemen from behind.
The cops wrench my wrist back, handcuff me, and one of them has my head and is pounding it into the cold hard cement. I was not resisting, I was not fighting. I didn't even see them coming. They were simply going to teach this faggot a lesson! While my brains are being dashed, all I can think (besides, this shouldn't be happening!) was that this kind of injury is exactly how Natasha Richardson died. And here's the thing about having your arms behind your back and your head being smashed repeatedly into the floor of Grand Central Station by the very people who are supposed to protect you: the only thing you can try to do is move your neck from side to side -- so that the blunt force will cause more trauma to your head, than to your face. I blacked out.
Next thing I know I'm in a jail cell in my underwear. Why was I in my underwear? Why wasn't I fingerprinted, booked, or charged? My clothes are outside of this cell and I'm in there thinking if the cops can get away with this, they could make me disappear into one of those CIA web of prisons. I thought I was more in the Ukraine, than the USA. And worse, if I were a black person? I might have been shot.
In the past, I've called the NYPD a couple of times for help, and here's what happened: Once, outside my apartment on Avenue D, I was rushed by a gang of about 5 men trying to get into the building and, I presumed, rob me silly. I managed to get between the two entry doors to my building, put my back against the second door and smash the first door closed on the gangbangers, smashing one of their hands in the process. When the police came after I dialed 911, they told me these kids didn't want to rob me, they probably just wanted to "get onto my roof". That's what the NYPD told me! At the very moment they told me this, another guy walks by and says he was robbed by a gang of 5 guys at the entry of his building, and he described them to the police as I just had. So I ask the officer, "You still really think they were just trying to get to my roof?" And the officer says, non-chalant, "When they couldn't get onto your roof, they decided to go do something else."
Another time I called the NYPD after getting beaten in the West Village. When the cops arrived, they said no arrests could be made--no report filed, because my injuries would have had to have been much more serious. "We're talking lying unconscious in the street," one of them told me.
When there is no arrest made, when there is no report filed...there was no attempted robbery, there was no beating. No "incident" means it did not happen. Which means that NYC is so safe. Which means more tourists. Which means more happy re-elected mayor, more dollars.
But heaven help you if you do a cartwheel in Grand Central Station!
They let me out of jail at around 3:30 in the morning. I had two summons for disorderly conduct and a piece of paper saying I needed hospital treatment but refused. I learn later that my friend Stace was told by the cops to "get lost, or you're going in too" when he saw them take me down.
Once I'm out, I'm hysterically on the phone to Bam. There are cuts to my face, bruising on both sides of my head, ears, and wrist, and though I'm sure there must be good cops out there, the men who tackled and beat me down are the worst kind of thugs.
I can't help but think what they did to me was illegal. That maybe I still retain rights against that unnecessary force? And that every inch of Grand Central Station is covered by cameras.
Source:jesseonthebrink.com
I know one thing. If Mayor Bloomberg wants to see a third term as mayor of NYC, he better have a talking with Commissioner Raymond Kelly and have him get his boys in blue in line. There's been quite a few reports about gay bashings in NYC (particularly in gay areas), with reports of the NYPD turning a blind eye. Now while I'm not surprised, the police are acting a damn fool. How long before we get Stonewall pt. 2 emerging in NYC again?
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