The author sat next to a lady at a diner, a young lady, who told of her friend’s resent woes at the hands of the police.

…

I wish there was some way to pay that pig back for what he did to her. I can’t even think of anything bad enough for this creep. The scary thing is that he is getting all the support he needs to keep doing it. I fucking hate cops—douche-bag pigs.

She works at a strip club in [small city near Portland redacted for the victim’s safety]. The other night, which happened to be the one night that the club had no security—which is in no way alright and is honestly messed up—this cop shows up. He puts her on the floor and rapes her. Just like that, taking what he wants.

Of course he knew that there was no security that night, he was a regular. Lisa is terrified because she told her bosses, and the club is refusing to back up her complaint. She’s got no witnesses, no protection. The fucking cop is free to come and go and maybe do it again.

…

The thing is, based on the fact that the club owners, are refusing to even lodge a complaint, gives you an idea that they know something about that police department. What the hell?

Are they afraid of the cops, or in league with the cops?

That is one reason why I’ll never call those fuckers [cops.] You’re just asking for more trouble when those assholes show up.

…

The lady was very upset and inwardly angry about the plight of her friend. I told her that I personally knew of numerous police misbehaviors in bars back in Baltimore, including the former cop that ran Rick’s bar across the street from the grocery store I manged on Belair Road. One morning he was serving free steak and egg breakfasts to uniformed, on duty Baltimore City Police, while I drank coffee at the bar next to them, knowing damned well that those were the sirloin tips that this fucker bought from the crackheads that were raiding my store the previous night. I saw the steaks being taken right into the bar, owned by the former PIG to feed current PIGs. These were the very cops that I would have to call on to assist with stopping the thieves that provided their free breakfast!

This dude also beat-up his girlfriend, who worked there. Unless you are of Dark Continent genetics, there is close to zero chance that crimes by police will be punished. Indeed, the constant positive news coverage of law enforcement on local Portland TV in the wake of the defund the police movement is going to guarantee a strong back the blue right or wrong instinct among the very class of people that will be increasingly targeted by cops.

Police run drugs in most of the handful of American municipalities that I have any intelligence on. It makes sense for them to make truces with their Drug War opponents, the Kangs of Wakanda, partner in those rackets and compete for a cut rather than to shut down those rackets. With this as a base income, shaking down, extorting, robbing and raping of pale and Asian Americans will form a growth industry for the pigs.

I will expect abductions and sale into slavery by American police to rise into a regular large scale racket, as depicted in Last Whiteman, [1] by 2050. As America implodes culturally in a drugged haze like China did under the Anglophone Opium Hegemony of the 1800s, sale into sex slavery of American women will become as common as it was for Chinese women 150 years ago.

The initial targets will be sex workers, dancers and single women adapted to a high trust society. But the highest prices for and longest use of the sex slave will always be for teenage virgins taken from the wreckage of the shattered American Family. I see America returning to its slave-based roots under Morpheus just as she once did under Tobacco and Rum.

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Notes

-1. The unpublished novels The Last Good Cop and Last Whiteman, both deal with this, inspired by a house managed by an old woman and guarded by a Baltimore City Police Officer, which I have walked by hundreds of times in the past five years, a house from where a beautiful Eastern European woman once sought my aid, to which I cowardly balked.