Hello, Mr. Officer, Sir. I do sincerely hope you're having a pleasant day. I trust you've been sleeping well. What can I say? Maybe I'm not as strong as you (I'm not one of "LA's Finest", just some random LA working stiff); but if I fired into an unarmed crowd, I'd have serious troubles with my conscience.

I'm genuinely sorry you got so scared you fired on us. Perhaps you'd have prefered us to chant "whose streets? our streets!" more soothingly, say in the manner of Gregorian chant. But please, Mr, Officer, Sir, understand that this sentiment goes both ways. We might have been considerably less loud if we'd seen, say, one or two officers without riot gear and guns on each street corner, instead of hundreds fully outfitted for war everywhere.

And of course, this being a political convention, there's always the "family values" angle. You might well have kids of your own who you have to face at night and tell what you do for a living. If I were you (and I'm thankful I'm not), I wouldn't want to have to tell them "your daddy's a coward who shoots the very people who pay his salary" or else lie to them. And I'm genuinely sorry that those are now the only options that you have.

I know your job is hard and understand that under all the riot gear there is a living thinking breathing human being. But take off the riot gear and break formation -- guess what? You're a working stiff just like me; and when I chant "whose streets? our streets!" that includes *you* -- the human being under all that armour who's a citizen with the same rights that I have and choose to excercise.

And I'm also sorry the guy who took this picture didn't happen to get your face and name and badge number on film. After all, this is Hollywood, and who doesn't want to be a star? But I was there, and saw plenty of others on my side with cameras.

Rest assured, coward, you're famous.

Be well

Felix

P.S. I've got your beanbag, if you want it.