Sunday, September 09, 2007

Naked pix of Trib editors pay off again, and a Taser (non)follow-up

Okay, this has gone from odd to weird. Last January, we wrote:
Naked pictures of Tribune staff. That’s what we assume bookstore owner Ken Sanders has in a safety deposit box somewhere. Sanders’ smiling face was the first thing that popped up when surfing sltrib.com yesterday. It was easy to recognize him because it’s only been two months since his last full-length feature in the Trib. In fact, he's been featured four times since 2005. Four major features on one business owner in two years? If naked pictures aren’t involved, we want the number for his agent.
And what did we see in this morning's Trib? Yet another feature on Sanders, the second so far this year, and the fifth in the past two years. If this guy ain't (1) paying someone off, and/or (2) in possession of certain airport restroom photos, we are mystified as to why he gets so much ink.

Hey, Trib: If you're out of new ideas, we've got one. Since you're re-running the same stuff you did last January anyway, how about a follow up on this one that we also wrote about at the time:

Two days ago, a Zion's Bank branch at 1420 S. 300 West was robbed. A man dressed similarly to the suspect was approached by police, and ended up getting Tasered. Without knowing the Taseree's side of the story, the Tribune simply assumed the police version to be 100% accurate, declaring in its article, "The man did not respond to the officer's orders, was hostile and made verbal threats of physical harm against the police. One of the officers deployed his Taser to subdue the man."
In light of another mistaken-identity Tasering a year earlier involving a mentally disabled man, we expressed concern whether local cops were adequately trained to distinguish between mental disability and hostile resistance. At the time, the Trib chided us because the cops had refused to give them the guy's name by the time they ran the article, so they couldn't get his story. Of course, that didn't excuse their decision to report the cop's version as undisputed fact, but anyway, it's been 8 months now, plenty of time to have GRAMA'd the police report, gotten the victim's name and story, and perhaps evaluated whether local cops need more training in distinguishing mental disability from combativeness. (The Trib did run a story in July about the number of local Taser incidents, but did not address this troubling aspect.) So how about it, guys?

P.S. One thing we do know: The Taseree wasn't Ken Sanders, or the Trib would have been all over it.

3 comments:

Alienated Wannabe said...

In case the issue should ever arise, I want to make sure that everyone understands that the alleged "bong" I purchased at Cosmic Aeroplane was purely for purposes of ornamentation. And, just because we happen to be on the subject, I also want to mention how highly I regard Ken Saunders. Not only is he one of the most brilliant minds of our day, he is also an extremely handsome man.

Voice of Utah said...

Yeah, but what about the other 3 bongs you bought? As for the extreme handsomeness, does AW=KS...?

Alienated Wannabe said...

How many times do I have to go over this?

As I told the police, VoU-1 gave me a sealed envelope and asked me to deliver it to Ken Sanders. I did so, and in return he handed me a box wrapped in plain brown paper and directed me to take it to a particular restroom at the LDS Church Office Building. Per his instructions, I was to sit there until VoU-2 gave me the proper signal from the adjoining stall -- three taps on the shoe.

Nothing about this seemed odd, so I did what I was told.

The first few hours went by pretty fast, but after a while I began to grow restless, entertaining doubts as to the wisdom of taking these kind of directions from someone whom I did not know well (a complete stranger).

It was then that I noticed a scrap of toilet paper lying on the damp floor at my feet. Of course, I immediately stretched my hand forward to pick it up. ("You can never be too clean," I always say.) And, while bending down to do this, my ear drew close to the box and I could hear that it was ticking.

"That doesn't sound right," I thought to myself. But, I continued to sit there for a few more hours.

Somewhere during that period I must have dozed off, because I was awakened the next morning by a custodian. Apparently, while mopping the floors, he noticed my foot sticking out from under the stall (I have a fairly wide stance) and he became concerned that something terrible had happened to me.

When I told him about the ticking sound coming from the box, he felt that it would be best for us to call the police. But, by the time they arrived, I had already impulsively opened it to discover that what I had mistaken to be ticking was actually just the glass cylinders of three bongs rattling against one another -- no big deal at all, really.

Of course, it took a little bit of explaining, but the police eventually seemed to understand that this was just a simple misunderstanding. In fact, in the end, we all shared a good laugh over it -- though, now that I think of it, they seemed to be doing the majority of the laughing . . . and pointing . . . at me.

A.W. = B.S.