Who are the Brain Police?

My neighbor died last night.

I live in a 2-flat, with another 2-flat attached to the rear. He lived in the lower rear apartment. Our neighbor in the upper rear apartment found him, lying in the entranceway to the basement. He was an old man, probably in his 60's. I never really knew him... it's a cliché, but he was a "quiet type that kept to himself." I think the man may have actually been seriously paranoid. He rarely left his home, never opened his window shades, he taped over his door windows, and wouldn't even allow the landlord into his apartment. (The landlord hasn't seen the inside of that apartment in eight years.) The upstairs neighbor told me that he (the downstairs neighbor) had installed video cameras at each of his doors so he could see when anyone was approaching.

My husband and I used to joke that if he ever left the apartment, the landlord would find mummified corpses of people and animals in all the closets.

That joke doesn't seem so funny anymore.

Anyway, one thing really struck me last night, after the discovery (the husband actually tried CPR, the MD in him urging him to attempt the pointless), after talking to the paramedics, and then dealing with the police...

I was very nervous while talking to the police.

I mean, VERY nervous. Not to the point of stuttering and sweating buckets, but I found myself second-guessing everything I said when i was talking to them. I barely knew the guy, even though we'd lived there for two years... was that going to look bad? Should I not have have brought up that he seemed a little paranoid? Should I not have mentioned that the landlord tried to enter the apartment when he came to see what was going on? Am I taking too long to answer questions? Do I look nervous? Am I talking too much?

I feel a little silly about it today, but last night, after the shock of finding a dead body right under your porch, and then having to deal with police and paramedics right when you were about to hop into bed is unnerving. Now, I should say that the policemen that were there in no way appeared threatening or suspicious; they asked some questions in a very businesslike manner and went about their job. They were very polite and courteous. But the whole thing still made me very nervous and uncomfortable.

Thank you, Patriot Act.

I'm actually pretty pissed off about my reaction. I have never felt nervous around the police. The old "I have nothing to hide" thing, but even when I have had encounters with the police, I have never felt anything but 100% calm and in control. I know there are good cops and bad cops, but I have never felt threatened by one. After all, I knew I had done nothing wrong, so why did I have to be worried?

Because these days, innocence doesn't appear to matter.

I'm not foolish or paranoid enough to think that these two policemen were planning on spiriting me off to Guantanamo. I don't think anyone is out to get me. And I seriously doubt that my blog, or anything else anti-Bush that I've said, done or written has ever blipped on the radar of the FBI or anyone else. I have several friends that are cops, and even though I've had my cynicism in the past about the police, I've always been a supporter. I bought a table full of NYPD a round of beers after 9/11, fer chrissakes.

But.... I do know the Bush Administration is not above petty revenge tactics. I do know that our government has arrested and imprisoned people for being the wrong color, or in the wrong place at the wrong time. I do know there's even more we don't know. I also know that opening your mouth and speaking against Dear Leader these days can get you in a truckload of trouble.

The lovely gift of the Patriot Act has done nothing but bring us paranoia, suspicion,and fear. And now it's made me nervous around cops.

That really pisses me off.

(Stuck in the cross-post with you...)