Once upon a time, on the banks of the Red Cedar, former MSU football phenom Plaxico Burress shot himself in New York. If you’ve ever seen 300, you know Spartans are willing to lose an eye and keep fighting, so we needn’t worry about Plaxico’s future. He plead guilty to a weapons charge and will serve two years in the clink, so we may as well close the chapter on this book of Michigan-affiliated numbskullery now. What we really need to look at is why a 12-year-old shot and killed a woman in Detroit.
Babcock was sitting in a parked car with a male friend on West Outer Drive near Minock, close to Rosedale Park, when Harris, who is 6 feet 2 inches tall, approached the vehicle shortly after midnight, brandished a pistol and demanded money, Evans said.
“When she didn’t respond to his demands, he shot her,” Evans said.
I don’t know what to make of this. I’m a single woman who spends a lot of time in the D. ‘Round about midnight I heed red lights with about as much pause as a yield sign, so sitting in a parked car is completely out of the question. Keep it moving.
But it’s really sick it has to be that way. Apparently your fate is better laid in the hands of shooting yourself in the leg than sitting in a parked car. Apparently it isn’t the cussing addict outside of Lafayette you have to worry about, it’s the 12-year-old child in the empty lot. Apparently the kid who was born in 1997 holds Judgment Day in his hand just as St. Peter holds the keys to the pearly gates.
I want to use this space to make the argument for the injustices of the education and socioeconomic system in Detroit, but I’m just too sickened at the moment. I hate Detroit sometimes. It’s still my favorite place in the world, but God hath really forsaken the city. This shit is turning into Mittensippi faster than I can keep up with.