Saturday, 24 July 2010

Plod Squads Morph into Storm Troopers

Once again, the latest and the greatest in scandal-mongering hot gossip from Anarchy Central’s 24/7 Truth & Rumour Mill – with dispatches hand forged and crafted into bespoke satire to tempt the palates of all budding nihilists and career revolutionaries who carry the immortal bloodline of the rebel sons of Belial.

Northumbrian tranquility went tits up in a bucket recently when the quiesence of the serene woodlands, fields and hedgerows was disturbed by a mix of panic and farce due an inundation of Imperial stormtroopers led by Darth Vader – or someone with similar bronchial problems wearing body armour, a black helmet and goggles – and the Batman utility belt kit Mum bought them for Christmas.

While being sneered at and mocked by a mixed audience of grazing cows, curious crows, audacious cackling magpies, flocks of giggling sheep and a couple of cetes of outraged badgers, the Ninja-style Plod Squad rooted and prodded and poked around bush, shrub and tuft alike a gang of cub guide Brownies – all keen to draw second blood yet easy prey to fieldcraft snares, booby traps - and falling victim to their own innate clumsiness.

The Star Wars filmset auction sci-fi body armour and radios besides, there were automatic rifles, SMG’s, Street Sweeper shotguns, pistols and tasers – and all to hunt down the rogue bouncer Raoul Scroat and prevent him using his weapons of mass distraction to enact the downfall of civilization as we know it and kill every fucker old enough to bleed.

Just imagine the same Blizkreig turn-out to hunt the social pariah scallies who mugged your Granny of her pension giro last week – or the gang of yobsters who nicked the GPS out of your motor while you dived into the local 7/11 Stop n Rob for a pack of ciggies. Such a force in daily deployment actions of engagement would see Britain crime-free within weeks.
Which brings to bear the question – where the fuck do they keep these blokes when there’s no mass murderers on the loose – in the deep freeze or a cupboard? Definitely not on foot patrol around the highways and byways of our once-sceptred isle.

A long, long time ago (pre-New Labour/1997) Britain was policed by consent, where officers were viewed as citizens in uniform operating with the support of the public. Yet the overkill installation of urban CCTV monitoring and the militarisation of the beat bobby is eroding that unique social position - and asinine comparisons to fictitious plods such as the Beeb’s 1950’s ‘Dockson with the Green Dick’ are as true today as Apollo 11 ever landing on the Moon.

Hence the police have become the authors of their own controversies and negative predicaments, not least in the way they present themselves in public as posturing bully-boy jobsworths with a licence to maim. It’s not just the fact they get away – exhonorated - with dishing out beatings – the insult lies within the alarming reality the consider themselves divinely entitled to dish out beatings at all – beyond the judicial reaches of ‘accountability’.

Here we shall reference Cro-Magnon look-alike PC Delboy Smellie (fitting name) being acquitted for repeatedly brutalising a lightweight female G20 demonstrator, Nicola Fisher – mistaking her carton of orange juice for a weapon of mass destruction.
Yep, and this the day after one of his contemporaries from the same Renta-Thug Riot Squad had murdered an innocent passer-by news vendor, Ian Tomlinson, by laying gratuitous violent hands upon him – a crime still crying out to the sloth-like Crown Prosecution Service over Justice Denied.

Hmmm, perhaps this is where the Israeli IDF commando thugs got their ideas for the welcome greeting party they put on for the Gaza Freedom Flotilla activists.

So, in this day and age, since the advent of the false flag terrorist attacks of 9/11 and 7/7 and the demonisation of all Islam, and Muslims as suicide bombers, any Brit’ commuter sporting a sun tan and toting a backpack who catches the eye of a member of the Plod Squad automatically hits the deck, screaming “Help! Please don’t shoot! I’m not a Brazilian or an electrician!”

Is it fact or rumour that the last time a Met’ plod was disciplined for behaviour unbecoming an officer was when PC Candida Mingerot got her sad arse cautioned last year for using her pepper spray to spice up her lunch break cheese burger?

Subcontrary to the above is a further parallel inasmuch that Metropolitan Police Commissioner Sir Paul Stephenson has criticised tributes which have been paid to the original subject of this pasquinade – looney Raoul Scroat - aka the People's Psychopath.

Stephenson’s ire has been raised by the abundance of flowers and cards that were deposited at the scene of Scroat's death and outside his home in Fenham, Newcastle; while almost 17,000 people have joined a Fuckbook group called “RIP Raoul Scroat – U is Legend!”
One of the cards in Fenham read: "A good mate, a good dad, good at school, well-mannered, hard-working businessman. That's the real Raoul Scroat."

Stevenson informed one reporter from the Subversives Gazette that the tributes were - in his superbly unqualified opinion - "extraordinarily disappointing". Well, that’s obviously what the British public think of your trigger-happy Robocop Plod Squad police state, Mr Stevenson. They ‘shock’ the fuck out of the bloke with unapproved taser weapons and then he ‘accidentally’ shoots himself with his own shotgun – without leaving any powder burns on flesh or clothing. For fuck’s sake – it’s hard enough to commit suicide with a standard shotgun – point it at yourself ‘and’ reach the trigger – unless you’re only planning on shooting your foot.

As if these shit-for-brains arrogant armed-to-the-teeth GI Joe cops aren’t enough to contend with, they’re now reinforced with untrained PCSO and Community Enforcement jobsworths on hire from the ‘Renta-Moron’ and ‘Thugs-R-Us’ security agencies. Rispect? I think not.

Allergy warning: This article was written in a known propaganda-infested area and may contain traces of slight exaggeration, modest porkies and misaligned references.

Thought for the day: If a bear shits in the woods and there’s a bunch of armed plods around searching for some absconded psycho, will they taser the poor fucker and tell the RSPCA it was suicide?

Oh, and by the way, fuck Big Brother – and his sister – and the New World Order.

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