Tag Archives: Mike Brown

Fundraising pages for Darren Wilson suspended after raising $400,000


We’ll let go for now CNN anchor Chris Cuomo’s query if donating to a fund for Ferguson police officer Darren Wilson makes one a racist. More worthy of investigation is why two fundraising pages for Officer Wilson were suspended on Saturday.


Several media outlets have picked up the story, but one fact isn’t in dispute: the two pages raised a whopping $400,000 combined before being suspended.

Lindsay Toler of the Riverfront Times reports that tax issues are a big part of the story.

[Missouri state] Representative Jeff Roorda tells Daily RFT he’s trying to determine whether Shield of Hope, the organization managing the donations, is legally allowed to spend the funds on Wilson’s legal defense since it is a registered 501c3 nonprofit. Most donors expected their money to pay for lawyers, legal fees and other expenses related to Wilson’s prosecution, Roorda says.

“If we find money was donated to the Shield of Hope’s GoFundMe and it can’t be used for the express purpose it was intended for, we will return it,” says Roorda, one of the officials listed on the nonprofit’s state records, along with Ferguson police officer Timothy Zoll and Florissant councilman Joseph Eagan.

If the nonprofit can spend the funds on Wilson’s legal defense, it will, Roorda says. For now, that’s a question for a tax attorney.

Those issues concern the second page set up for Officer Wilson. The first raised $235,550, and Roorda, who is vice president of Shield of Hope, says the first page was started by a teenage girl who asked Shield of Hope to take over the page after receiving threats. That page will not reopen because GoFundMe does not allow administrators to transfer pages to other groups.

The Los Angeles Times reports that a GoFundMe page run by the attorneys for Michael Brown’s family has raised $317,143 as of Monday evening.

Upfront Media Group founder Shaun King led an effort to have the Wilson pages taken down for violating GoFundMe’s rules for hate, and at one point, an opponent of the Wilson fundraiser claimed that donating to the fund was “no different than supporting ISIS.”


‘What about the Mike Brown fundraiser?’ Boycott over Wilson GoFundMe page begins


As Twitchy reported, yesterday, Upfront Media Group director Shaun King was threatening a boycott against GoFundMe for allowing a page supporting Ferguson PD Officer Darren Wilson. Today, he decided that the time had come to make good on his promise:


King did get retweets and shares, just like he asked for:


But he also got a pretty darn good question:


Well, like King said earlier: If you can’t transfer your fundraiser to another site, “please pledge to NEVER use @GoFundMe again.” Even if, as of the time this post was published, one of the handful GoFundMe pages related to Michael Brown has raised over $170,000? Seems pretty successful, no? Oh well.



‘No different than supporting ISIS’: Libs work to take down fundraising page for Officer Darren Wilson

‘F*ck the police’: ‘Disturbed’ online protesters want #JusticeForMikeBrown


Missouri teenager Mike Brown was killed Saturday when he was shot Saturday by Ferguson, Mo. police.

Here are more details about the incident from the St. Louis Post-Dispatch:

St. Louis County Police Chief Jon Belmar said one shot was fired by the officer’s gun inside the car during the struggle, and that the officer fired multiple times at Michael Brown, 18, as he ran away.

He said the shots that hit Brown were “more than just a couple but I don’t think it was many more than that.” He said an autopsy was pending and that a toxicology test would take as long as six weeks to determine whether Brown had alcohol or drugs in his system.

Angered over the incident, many took to Twitter to call for justice, using the hashtag #JusticeForMikeBrown.


This Mike Brown situation really breaks my heart.
So sad. Ugh.
#JusticeForMikeBrown— QUEEN LOSA (@YoungLosa) August 10, 2014


The official account of Black Entertainment Television also chimed in.



‘Rising anger’: St. Louis alderman Antonio French tweets from protest over shooting of Freguson, Mo. teen [Vine, photos]

Sally Kohn: Why is Twitchy ‘SO INVESTED in Michael Brown being guilty?’


Back in August, liberal commentator Sally Kohn was completely mistaken about the circumstances in which police officer Darren Wilson shot and killed Ferguson, Mo., thug Michael Brown:

Because we called her out for her fallacious tweet, she says we’re the ones in the wrong. In a tweet posted earlier this morning, Kohn accuses Twitchy and others on the Right of being “SO INVESTED in Michael Brown being guilty.”

If that logic doesn’t make sense to you, you’re not alone.


Sally Kohn: ‘Only sure facts … Mike Brown was unarmed and fleeing with hands up.’

Sally Kohn still hasn’t retracted her ‘sure fact’ that Michael Brown was ‘fleeing with hands up.’

With ‘sure fact’ about Ferguson shooting proven false, Sally Kohn blasts rush to smear Michael Brown

‘A regrettable mistake’: New York Times calls Michael Brown ‘no angel’

Margaret Sullivan, the New York Times’ public editor, confessed Monday afternoon that a writer’s use of the term “no angel” to describe Michael Brown was “a regrettable mistake” and saying that the 18-year-old killed by a Ferguson, Mo., police officer was no angel seemed “to suggest that this was, altogether, a bad kid.”

New York Times writer John Eligon used the phrase in a profile of Brown published yesterday, and the backlash was profound.

The author of the piece says, in hindsight, he would have changed the wording:

“I understand the concerns, and I get it,” Mr. Eligon said. He agreed that “no angel” was not a good choice of words and explained that they were meant to play off the opening anecdote of the article in which Mr. Brown saw an angelic vision. That anecdote “is about as positive as you can get,” Mr. Eligon said, and noted that a better way to segue into the rest of the article might have been to use a phrase like “wasn’t perfect.”

“Hindsight is 20/20. I wish I would have changed that,” he said.


Ferguson Divided My Family, But We Were Already Broken

As a black man I’d learned to fear the police. Then the police became my family.

Jenny Chang / BuzzFeed

The day of the grand jury announcement that absolved Darren Wilson of any wrongdoing for the killing of Mike Brown, I noticed that one of my friends had updated their profile picture on Facebook to an “I Support Darren Wilson” meme. Having effectively purged from my social media most of the people I considered no better than Confederate flag enthusiasts, I was horrified by this turn of events. Who had I missed? Who did I now need to delete as a friend?

It was my sister.

As a black man, it had never occurred to me that anyone in my family would stand in solidarity with the murderer of an unarmed black male.

To be a black male in America, your constant state of being is Ignatius of Antioch, forever on deck to be devoured by a Colosseum-dwelling lion, and police are the felines in question, confined to an arena where their blood sport is not only encouraged but rewarded. I was raised in Milwaukee, in a single-parent home where I was an anomaly, the only man present. The men who came in and out of my mother’s lives were troubled men, dangerous men — some of them emotional criminals, others criminals in the very literal definition. They ran afoul of the police often. From my perspective as a child, these men fully earned being targeted by the police.

And much like any victim who has been tormented, my mother turned to those who were her saviors: She joined the sheriff’s department. Law enforcement may see the black male as public enemy No. 1, but to the black women who are often left in the wake of their men’s struggle for freedom, it’s very understandable that a black woman would play into the role of Michael Corleone, pulled into a world that is needlessly cruel and violent, yet also a safe haven and the only means of protecting themselves in this world.

There was a point when I realized as an adult that despite my privileges relative to so many other black men — a grandmother who drove me to a bookstore on the south side of town every month to purchase the latest Goosebumps book on its release date, a college degree in theatre, a graduate degree from the Tisch School of the Arts — this world was still not designed for me to succeed. And police were a constant reminder. Police who looked at me like a Yeerk, some alien life-form willing to infect and infiltrate the world they found precious. A man who would be so very easy to kill, whose death would have no consequences.

It was not necessarily my mother’s career in law enforcement that caused our initial rift, but it was all tied in to how she had to use her badge as a shield, as a uniformly colored Dreamcoat to protect herself from anyone who could do her harm. Subconsciously, she knew that her black son could grow into a dangerous man, one who could bring pain into her life, or one she would be forced to eradicate with an American-bred bullet.

The thing about a cold war with your mother is that there’s always collateral damage. I blamed my mother for picking my sister as her favorite, the one she would mold in her own image. In the absence of breathing room to be who I wanted to be, to find myself, I blamed my mother for the distance between us. I insisted that she had failed me as a mother and as close as my sister and I had been in our youth, I knew that she was destined to follow in my mother’s footsteps. She was being groomed as the heir apparent.

So when I realized I was gay, that Milwaukee would smother me and burn every canvas I could ever use to paint a single work of art, I fled at the first opportunity — to Loyola University-Chicago, 90.2 miles from home, where I could fumble through my own personal Minos labyrinth and figure out whatever it meant to be a gay black male in America.

Jenny Chang / BuzzFeed

“Like any artist without an art form, she became dangerous.” — Toni Morrison, Sula

My sister, a gifted and intelligent woman, had no such aspirations: She had no art form that had ever been determined. She had no outlet for that which banged within her rib cage every day, searching for an exit. And as such, the way out of her personal chains was to join law enforcement. In the times when she struggled with her identity, she fell in with a crowd of similar unrealized artists. She was often in trouble with the law — sometimes earned, sometimes a victim of profiling (to make myself feel better I told myself it was because of her manner of dress — I was a victim of respectability politics then). She began her career as a correctional officer and moved to Texas, but returned home shortly after. I had a creative outlet to keep my family close and yet far away at the time. I wrote about them, keeping my sentiment and family ties confined to a computer document. My sister had no such outlet and craved her familial ties. When she returned to Milwaukee, she still needed the strength to escape her chains. My mother’s tenure as a sheriff inspired my sister to apply to be a police officer. It was a natural progression of her search for any type of strength or power.

Years earlier, on a chilly autumn afternoon, I stood by a behemoth of a fountain at Loyola University-Chicago’s campus, where a tarot card reader once disoriented me with circular logic about the obstacles I needed to confront in my life. Her words had long faded, but her face remained burned into my mind as the phone in my jeans vibrated with a call from my sister.

The words come blunt and quickly. “I’m gay, Ira,” she said. I didn’t hear her the first time. She was speaking through sobs. The crashing water beside me and the flurry of student activity surrounding me made it hard — shit, made it impossible to take all this in. I sat down on the edge of the fountain and selfishly began to think about myself. Why would my sister decide to come out to me? Had she figured out something about me I’d struggled so hard to maintain in my hometown? Was she the only person in my family who could see my true self?

No, she had no kinship with me other than the perfunctory one Sister Sledge sang about. We were family. She was my sister and I was her brother. And in the event that your mother discovers a surreptitious note you scribbled to a burgeoning love, and in turn discovers that the daughter she molded out of her dreams for a better life than her own is a lesbian, the only person you can call is your brother who’s pulled a reverse-prodigal son and fled from home the first chance he got.

My mother, hardly a religious woman except in the act of maintaining the status quo of a black woman in America, was offended by my sister’s “sin.” My mother, hardly the most attentive while my sister went through the motions of a juvenile delinquent, was offended by my sister’s “betrayal of our values.” “Your sister’s a lesbian.” That was the call I received from my mother. It was icier and lacked any desperation, but I could still feel gutted from the subtext of her phone call.

It was then that I was given the chance to be a canvas. My sister had discovered her gifts and it was my turn to be a teacher, a muse, allow her the opportunity to paint freely. All I had to do was come out to my sister, tell her that we were one, that we not only shared the same blood, we shared the same soul.

I couldn’t do it. I didn’t come out for another five years.

Before my sister laid her support for Darren Wilson on Facebook, she called me one evening and asked me for my address. She had to list me on her application for the Milwaukee Police Department. I allowed her to list me as a reference because I still love the women in my life, despite us being on the opposite side of a fight we did not create. I want them to be safe and they want me to be safe, but I think about what would happen if I were in the line of police fire. Would I be mourned only in private?

Hands not up? New details leaked from the Michael Brown autopsy

The St. Louis Post Dispatch is reporting some bombshell, narrative-changing new details from the official autopsy of Michael Brown:

Official autopsy shows Michael Brown had close-range wound to his hand, marijuana in system

The official autopsy on Michael Brown shows that he was shot in the hand at close range, according to an analysis of the findings by two experts not involved directly in the case.

The accompanying toxicology report shows he had been using marijuana.

Those documents, prepared by the St. Louis County medical examiner and obtained by the Post-Dispatch, provide the most detailed description to date of the wounds Brown sustained in a confrontation Aug. 9 with Ferguson police Officer Darren Wilson.

A source with knowledge of Wilson’s statements said the officer had told investigators that Brown had struggled for Wilson’s pistol inside a police SUV and that Wilson had fired the gun twice, hitting Brown once in the hand. Later, Wilson fired additional shots that killed Brown and ignited a national controversy.

But, who leaked the autopsy? The Washington Post’s Wesley Lowery writes:

But Lowery’s theory isn’t anything new. Former St. Louis police chief Tim Fitch said this two days ago:

However, these new details aren’t changing many minds of those who want to see Darren Wilson indicted:

More to come, we’re sure.


Full Twitchy coverage of Ferguson, Mo. here.