“His was the discipline of Steel!”

-Conan the Barbarian

In the wake of the G-man Affair I sought counsel on behalf of junior hoodrats from a man whose spent his fair share on the wrong side of the law and, unlike the predictably short-lived G-man, is still alive and kicking.

Although the actual attacks on Baltimore and its inmates by the hoodrat brigades had to do with long standing hatreds—and had nothing to do with the fate of G-man, as reported by the Slaves of the Lie—G-man’s death did have the effect of giving over the tainted media stage to The Lie.

Of the entire sorry episode the most absurd aspect had to be the end of G-man. It was like dropping a rabbit down in front of a pack of hounds. Even though the rabbit had no reason to run, other than habit, it ran. And even though the hounds had not come to get this rabbit—well, that’s what they do! Who was a bigger idiot, the guy that ran from the cops on principal, or the guys that chased out of sheer habit?

Look, the least rational thing you can do when living the life is run from the cops. Really, they have helicopters, dogs—vehicles, and they will beat you ass for making them run those doughnuts off. Everyone knows that when you run from the cops you get your punishment. The most absolute and long standing dictum of being on the wrong side of the law is—don’t run. It is very rare that the cops have their act together enough to even make a charge stick. They’re just out their racking up drug arrest stats like state troopers writing tickets, because that’s what they do.

I have run from the cops, but not to be a dick. That is an important distinction. If they don’t have a good eye on me, like this time I was getting high down by the train tracks, I’ll run, and I did. Then I heard the officer call, “Mister Henley, come back here please. I know where you live.”

Oh yeah, that! Well, as much as that sucks, what is the point in making this guy work his ass if? He is after all just doing his job, such as it is.

In my present life, working as a Christian missionary, I use such stories to illustrate various aspects of life to people, who, should we say, might not normally be inclined to listen. I personally found, that when dealing with the cops, that humor goes a long way.

One time a friend and I were walking to the Dunkin’ Doughnuts out in Reisterstown. That place was a change for us Essex boys. The cops around here are known to kick your ass—look what they have to deal with. But those boys, they were cool. The ironic thing is the Dunkin’ Doughnuts is packed with cops—which is a laugh all in itself—and we’re walking towards it smoking a blunt.

My friend’s smoking and I see this cop pulling over behind us and say, “Toke it, swallow it!”

So he chokes that blunt down, gone, end of problem, right. The cop then greets us—nice enough and all—and calls us over. My friend is having a hard time—this blunt is not all the way down. The cop asks him if he’s okay as he’s kind of leaning forward next to the cop car. He goes to say something—I don’t know what, because it was lost in the moment—and then coughs out this massive pungent smoke ball right into the cop’s car, into the cop’s face!

AS, THE, DRUG, USER, it is incumbent upon you to remain cool. This is not the time to be a dick, not the time to run, and definitely not the time to give this guy any shit. You realize he’s already going to have to deal with his supervisor smelling him and saying, “So Johnson, what have you been doing on your lunch break?”

I just smiled and said, “Oh, we are well, thank you officer.”

The cop was cool—said, “How about if you boys take this in doors?”

Of course, the cop has to have a sense of humor for this to work or you have a knee in your back, and sometimes it is so.

One time I had just been huffing and I’m driving down the road when this cop pulls me over. Now this is over here in Essex where aggressive policing is the way, so you want to do what you can to lighten his day.

The cop is standing next to the door and he knows this is not a drunk driving situation. No alcohol smell, no bottles. I’m not drunk. But the eyes do not lie. He looks at me and says, “Son, are you high?”

I just responded, “Well Sir, I was until you pulled me over. I can tell you that I was not driving at the time, and that your evidence is unfortunately gone.”

He laughed outright at that. It was a great ice breaker and definitely helped me manage the situation I found myself in. Like most people, cops do not want to have to spend their time dealing with those who lie right to their face as a matter of principal. Now, there are times when the truth must not be told when you’re on the other side. But the habit of lying or running builds animosity, and there is little value to building animosity to your cause in the minds of those in power.