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Wednesday
Here’s a random use of literature that caught my eye: in an article about the jury acquitting “Sandwich Guy” for “hurling a hoagie” at ICE agents, Atlantic reporter Ashley Parker invoked William Carlos Williams’s famous poem “This Is Just to Say.” While she applied it to Sean Charles Dunn, however, I think it comes closer to characterizing the mentality of ICE agents who went after him, not to mention those Trumpists in general who are drunk with power. Hang on while I explain.
First, here’s Parker citing Williams as she sums up what happened:
The facts of the incident are ostensibly simple: In the early days of Trump’s militarization of the nation’s capital, Dunn—a 37-year-old Air Force veteran and, at the time, Justice Department employee—screamed at federal officers stationed in a popular nightlife corridor, repeatedly calling them fascists, and then hurled a Subway footlong at a Customs and Border Protection agent, hitting him squarely in the chest. “I did it. I threw a sandwich,” Dunn confessed to law enforcement upon being apprehended—a sort of modern Williams Carlos Williams (“I have eaten the plums that were in the icebox …”) for the more carnivorous, angrier set. Although it was widely reported at the time that the sandwich was salami, Dunn later said it was turkey.
Referring to the Trumpist response as “hoagie histrionics,” Parker reports,
Four days later, despite Dunn offering to surrender to the police, at least half a dozen law-enforcement officials in tactical gear staged a nighttime raid on his apartment, bringing him out in handcuffs—footage of which the White House blasted out in a highly stylized video, reminiscent of a Netflix FBI thriller. Finally, after a federal grand jury failed to indict him on a felony charge, prosecutors attempted to get him on misdemeanor assault.
Apparently the motivation behind throwing the sandwich was to pull ICE agents away from a gay club holding a special Latino night. After insulting the officers, Dunn threw the sandwich, prompting the officers to leave the post in front of the club to swarm after him. (“I succeeded,” he told the court.)
The jury, meanwhile, was appalled that the case had even been brought before them. (Having once served on a laughable case myself, I can sympathize.) One juror told Parker that they used words like absurd, laughable, and waste of government money. “We’re supposed to be looking at the evidence, but a clear majority felt it was nonsensical,” she said.
When the officer complained, “I had mustard and condiments on my uniform, and an onion hanging from my radio antenna that night,” this juror’s response was, “Oh, you poor baby.” Then it turned out that the sandwich had never left its wrapper anyway.
Now to the poem:
This Is Just to Say
By William Carlos Williams
I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox
and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast
Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold
While multiple interpretations of the poem are possible, to me it smacks of entitlement: the plum thief is offering up a faux apology while reveling in the fact that the victim can’t do anything about it. The plums are particularly delicious because they have been stolen, and by mentioning this, the thief is rubbing the theft in the owner’s face.
Which pretty much sums up the mentality of many ICE agents: they are reveling in their ability to commit illicit acts with impunity. Complaining won’t do any good, they are essentially telling their victims. That their actions are causing pain and distress just makes them more delicious.
Or put another way, pain and distress are the icing on ICE’s ice box theft.
