You are smarter than your name indicates. 
Right, which is why Zimmerman would have had to pull his gun or something before Martin would have the right to act in self defense.
According to this, all these preceded “Team Edward/Team Jacob”:
– Team Jolie/Team Aniston
– Team Clarkson/Team Cowell
– Team Macca/Team Heather
– Team Pam/Team Karen
Team Trayvon.
I don’t think you should be able to take my life because you ‘perceive’ a threat. Report me, suspect me, maybe, but certainly not shoot me.
Wanna be cops are a very dangerous breed. That is the scariest part of the whole Street Monitor/Kinda Cop dynamic. It attracts a bad element. They seem all cooperative and abiding to start, but a little power goes straight to their head, and next they are overstepping their authority.
He was told not to follow the kid. He did. Team Trayvon.
Yes, according to Florida law. (If the situation meets criteria that are in the law).
This is as good of an analogy as any.
Strip away the two guys backgrounds, their color, age, the setting, etc. and you’re left with a simple confrontation between two hard headed individuals getting into a pissing match not unlike a bar fight.
Sure, one of them started it, but just like cops responding to a bar brawl trying to find out who started it is not only impossible but also pointless.
A verbal confrontation ensues and soon escalates into a physical confrontation.
Two men fighting. Doesn’t matter what it’s about. People fight every day.
Throw a gun into the mix though and it gets tricky. At what point does one of the guys have a right to introduce a gun into the fight? When he’s losing? When he feels his life is in danger? When is that?
It just gets really murky and it seems no one has a clue where this imaginary line is that if one crosses you have a right to kill them back. Scary stuff.
After ending my telephone conversation with the emergency dispatch operator, I began heading back to my home, where I planned on completing the sweaters I was knitting for orphans in Sudan. It was then that I remembered that my good friend Trayvon was visiting his father, and surely that was the man I saw walking home. Imagine my embarassment! I decided that it wouldn’t be fair to let the police rough up the poor lad, so I turned around to return to the place I last saw him.
“Excuse me!” I called. “Oh Trayvon! Lovely night isn’t it? Amazing how the moon reflects off the clouds. Say, what have you got there? Skittles? My, I do love me some Skittles. But as you can see, I already possess a character of, how shall we say, rather rotund proportions, so I must not partake. But thank you for your kindly offer. I just wanted to warn you that I made the, gosh, how should I put this, ever so understable mistake of alerting the local constables of a suspicious person in the area. Little did I know at the time, dear friend, that it was merely Mr. Martin, traversing the streets of our fine neighborhood on his return trip from a snack merchant.”
It was then that things got ugly. Trayvon said that he didn’t think our neighborhood was particularly fine at all. In fact, he said he believed it sucked! Such offensive language from the mouths of babes. I wouldn’t stand idly by while he disparaged our fine community, so I said, “Trayvon, what would your father say if he heard you talking like that? Perhaps we should go tell him now, what do you think?” And Trayvon replied, rather angrily, “Fuck you, spic cracker beaner honkey. I bet you don’t even have the fucking gonads to shoot me point blank in the chest.”
Well, I was taken aback, to be sure, but I did my best to regain my composure. “Now Trayvon,” I stumbled, but the remainder of my thoughts were soon aswirl in floating stars and tweety birds. As I regained my composure, it become apparent that I had been socked, right in the nose! Well, I had no idea it was to come to fisticuffs, but if he was stewing for a fight, I wasn’t about to go down easy.
Except that I went down easy. You see, I have a bad knee here, from the time I rescued that family from a burning apartment building. Already bewildered from a shattered nasal bone, I was unable to maintain an upright stature as Trayvon shoved me to the earth. “Trayvon, how could you! We were supposed to go yachting in the Hamptons this summer!” I cried, as my head cracked the pavement. Blow after blow, he rained his rage down on me. I pleaded with him to take mercy, but he was clearly engaged in the recreational use of marijuana. Reefer, as a I believe the negroes like to call it.
I had nearly lost all hope by the time young Trayvon grabbed the sidearm out of my holster. “Don’t do it!” I screamed, as he held the barrel firmly against his own chest. His last words to me, coldly uttered, were, “You’re going to hang for my death, Jewboy.” And then he closed his eyes and discharged a single round into himself."
I was beside myself with grief. When the detectives arrived, I couldn’t bear the thought of the Martin family learning that their son had committed suicide. For you see, I’m a devout Catholic, and my religion believes that the souls of those who end their own lives are not destined for eternal rest. So I did the only noble thing I could do in that situation – I took the blame for his death. Oh, forgive me! I could have done so much more to save the life of this troubled youth. Perhaps if I had shared his Skittles after all, none of this would have ever happened.
My parents gave me this screen name because they love me and would prefer I not die violently as a teenager.
When he can reasonably fear for his life and he has no reasonable venue of escape.
Who the hell is Roy Zimmerman?
Ha! Got you back!
Whatever team you’re on, can we all agree that the police should have handled this thing with a bit more scrutiny than “lets just believe the shooter”? God damn it, that pisses me off. If it wasn’t for the public outcry, this whole thing would have just been water under the bridge. You’d think the death of an innocent kid would warrant a little more than that. How many people have been killed without public outcry whose deaths are simply forgotten?
How many people who have been in some form of a physical confrontation can claim this though? Everyone and anyone who has been on the losing end of bar fight probably.
“He kept punching me in the face. I thought I was going to die!”
Don’t know. “Reasonablity” seems to be a common refrain in the law.
Well, I brought cites! 
Totally Team Zimmerman. Man, I hope he walks! Cuz then I can move to Florida and get me a gun and go around hassling the shit out of people and then shoot them when they attack me. Woo hooo! Can’t wait!!!
Oh, I’m with you 100%. It’s what everyone should want.
But somewhere the call for “hey, let’s look at this thing more closely, a confrontation leading to a death is not something so easily dismissed” turned into a media led trial by the masses to determine the guilt of the shooter and victim.
Actually no, as I understand it the whole point of the law is that if you have an avenue of escape you are not required to take it, hence the name 'Stand your ground". If I am in a heated argument with someone who is armed and I am armed too, if I see him reaching in the direction of his gun I can shoot him lawfully. Meanwhile if I go for my gun he can shoot me lawfully. So we are back in the wild west with whomever draws the fastest wins. NRA paradise.
Everything I’ve read indicates Zimmerman was in the wrong. At the least, he stalked Trayvon after police instructed him not to.
Did Trayvon get due process?
Shooting an unarmed man dead – is that a crime? In Florida, apparently not.
We don’t know for a fact that Zimmerman provoked the fight. And a neighborhood watch captain stopping an unfamiliar teen-ager and asking him his business (if that is what happened) does not constitute provoking a fight.
Regards,
Shodan