I remember when my first baby was born. The hospital wanted to fingerprint him. I told them that I wanted to give the kid a fair shot at being a criminal if that was the career he chose. They wanted his blood to help map out DNA for long term health studies too. I once again told them no.
If I was born 20 years later, I would probably be a career criminal right now. I grew up in the police state of 1990’s Seattle, and quickly lost my appetite for crime. 2 years locked up between the ages of 18 and 21 convinced me that I’d make a better life for myself as a working man. But that was then. This is now.
This entire city is full of lunatics. The police are just an illusion. Oh sure, they might show up here and there if they’re in the neighborhood, make a big show of taking the bad guy to jail, but the big secret that’s holding it all together is that his ass is getting released that very same day. There’s a very, very thin veneer of civilization here, a psychological trick, just smoke and mirrors. It’s your inner policeman more than anything that keeps it all in check.
Listen, I’ve done some horrible shit in this town. I’m also a thinking man. I look at the city and county budgets. I look at the jail roster. I do the math. Here’s how the shell game works: you do some extra violent shit, like say, show up to a party with your friends, and pull out some assault rifles and hold the whole place hostage? You’re a felon and can’t have a gun, much less a stolen assault rifle? They take you away. You’re out the next day, with a paper from court saying that the DA isn’t filing today, but may file in the future. If you leave town, you’re all good. But, the next time you commit a similar level offense, the courts will charge you with the lesser of the two, get you to make a deal.
For amateurs, going to jail and worrying about maybe possibly being charged is presumed by the social engineers to be a deterrent. When you get booked downtown, they ask you questions that are fed into a computer to determine your likelihood of reoffending right away, and also, what liability you are to the jail itself. Common sense makes all these artificial intelligence tools obsolete. I tell them I’m diabetic, Muslim, white supremacist, and a snitch to boot who has many, many enemies. That’s enough red flags to get me out of there before they ever put me in a jumpsuit and send me upstairs.
(I have only had Police troubles a couple of times since living here, I work 60 hours a week and don’t commit very many criminal acts in my day to day life. I’ve mostly just had a few problems with people who insist on getting violent with me. I don’t want the reader to get the impression that I’m of the criminal class.)
So, now we have the curious case of Mr. Elifritz. This fucking guy tried to open my driver side door while at a red light not long ago. I casually pushed the lock down on my pimp-ass turtle green 1979 Dodge Aspen just as he was reaching for the door, and smiled at him. He made the knife over the throat sign at me, and I laughed as I drove off. That fool is crazy. He tried the same thing on a woman I used to date, I later found out during a conversation with her.
Now they’re holding candlelight vigils for his crazy ass. Here’s how it went down: Crazy dude Elifritz calls 911 and says his family is murdered and gives an address over on 79th and Holgate. Cops get there and it’s a construction site. Workers tell them that the crazy guy has been walking around screaming crazy shit and give them his description.
2 blocks away, cops find Elifritz. They approach and he pulls a knife, holds it to his own throat and yells more crazy shit.
Here’s where I should tell you about the Obama administration Department of Justice, how Eric Holder gave the Portland pigs a mandate that, when dealing with a subject who is either experiencing a mental health crises, or on drugs, the policy set forth by the terms of the settlement mandate that the police disengage, and contact mental health professionals.
Disengage.
So, assuming the guy has a house, what happens is, a couple of ladies armed with clipboards come to your house in a couple of weeks, (assuming you have a home), and knock on your door. If you answer, they will probably eventually give you a sheet of paper with the names of agencies that are designed to deal with fuck ups like you.
So, anyway, while the pigs are standing there laughing about the crazy guy with the knife to his own throat that they just let go, a car pulls up and says “That dude just tried to carjack me at knifepoint.”
Cops are of course lazy, and ask “You wanna file a complaint?” Dude is disgusted at the lazy cops and drives away.
Next, Elifritz carjacks a lady on 72nd and Foster, at the Mapleleaf diner. THE place to go if you want Chinese for breakfast. Don’t get in a hurry though. The cook is in his 90s.
So, crazy guy drives around in his new car. Crashes car. Pulls knife a few more times. Eventually gets shot by cops. Fuck that guy. He should have been shot a long time ago. But like I say, this town is full of lunatics. The cops are lazy cowards. The citizens are mostly brainwashed liberals.
And if ever there was a time to take up a life of crime, the place is here, and the time is now.
When Your Job Sucks
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I like your booking interview answers! That is worth remembering.
I second everything written in this post. "The police are just an illusion". Maybe this is strictly a Pacific NW thing, but the pussified policing we have out here makes it hard to grasp the descriptions of abusive cops back East who tune up randoms just for the hell of it. Everything out here is strictly hands-off, with yuuuuge emphasis placed on ticketing non-violent violators of administrative laws such as seat-belt requirements. The cops are all over that $#!t.
Just as an example of Portlandia's police "leadership", I suggest that readers should Google up a picture of Dangerous Dan Outlaw, the Chief of Portland's Police "Bureau".
portlandoregon.gov/police
Be afraid. Be very afraid.
Cleon Peterson's your guy for a glimpse into the future. A modern-day Peter Bruegel the Elder.
renegadetribune.com/cleon-peterson-dystopic-artist-elite
@ Shep:
Smith, Potter, Cooper, Mason, Taylor, Spinner, Weaver, Dyer, Thatcher, Tyler, Slater, Miller, Baker, Cheeseman, Spicer, Cook, Fisher, Shepherd, Carter, Clarke, Skinner, Farmer, Gardener, etc..
All great occupational surnames. I used to know an MD called Crooke (now deceased). Should have done law and enjoyed the LOLs.
Bob - like the old joke about the distinguished law firm of Dewey, Cheatham, and Howe?