Monday, September 3, 2007

Police Police?

Policemen. Yes, I agree, we do need them. We may not want them, but we do need them. It's a pity, but there you go. However, it seems that, like politicians, maybe wanting to be one should preclude you from actually being one.
    They seem to be going though a bit of a bad patch at the moment, don't they? They kill innocent people. They can't catch even children who murder other children. They drive very, very fast everywhere, but always seem to arrive too late. They cause other people to have serious accidents in their pursuit of trivial crimes.

They have become almost invisible, I guess they're all at the station doing paperwork. They're terrifically good at reconstructions of crimes, and of putting sobbing relatives in front of us in an effort to make us give ourselves up in a fit of remorse. One day's absolutely 100% rock solid evidence is tomorrows dubious pile of twaddle and lies.
It's not just our boys in blue in the UK I'm talking about, either. Think about the horlicks the Portuguese coppers are making of the McCann case.

So. I think that they need bringing to book themselves. Surely they can't continue to get away with this level of poor performance?  Police for the police then. That's not going to be easy to organise, is it?

But if there were some totally independent group (truly independent this time) watching over them, maybe, just maybe they'd get their act together.

Don't look at me, though. I would preclude myself on the grounds of prejudice against them. A lifetime ago they stitched me up like a kipper. I'm not going to forgive them. Ever. But maybe you'd like a go at it? There must be someone out there who could keep an eye on 'em?

When I was at secondary school, there was one boy in our year who stood out. Academically he was pretty near the bottom. Well, he did no work, he mucked about and disrupted classes the whole time. He was a big lad, he intimidated all of us, and some of the teachers too. I recall him reducing one poor (softy) teacher to tears.

It was quite a while ago, in fact the early 70s, and it happened to be that the 'Wacky Races' were first being shown on tv. Every week, this guy would run a book on who would win. We all had to (HAD to) cough up a few pence each, and got to pick a name out of the hat. Some poor S.O.B. would get Dick Dastardly! I never saw anyone get their winnings. Frankly, he was a big thick bullying pain in the backside.

Came the end of secondary school, most of us were off to college and so on. Where did this guy head? You guessed. He's probably a Chief Superintendent by now...

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