The Police are your friends

David Davis

The f*****g Merseyside Police have got nothing better to do, yesterday and today. I spotted them hiding in an ATV (an “all-terror-vehicle”, which is to say: a white hatchback with blue and yellow squares down its side) at the junction of Sefton St and Scarisbrick new Rd last night, and also this morning when I turned in.

I was immediately hauled in, a few seconds later, outside my house, and given what is called a “fixed penalty notice” for £60, for “not wearing a seat belt.” It did take quite some time. The wind was cold, I was wearing only a shirt and I was freezing to death, but I declined  the little Police-girl’s invitation to “step into the car please”. Also I wanted my neighbours to view what was happening. And you don’t know what they have there in their ATVs, these people.

It’s hard to know how to begin to explain, in particular to these eyeless goons “following orders”, that one has NOT worn a seat belt on principle since it became compulsory on 1st Jan 1993. It probably would not do any good anyway: so, why is that then?

Because the enraged British masses are unlikely to rise in anger at my subsequent exemplary punishment, and carry me triumphantly from the torture-house, my shackles having been smashed with the sledge-mauls and stihl-saws of 100,000 righteous white-van-men, trashing the state-machinery in their victorious progress through the ministry-malls of the guilty.

Interestingly, all sorts of details were asked for: like (1) Is this your car? (2) Where do you live? (ans: here,) (3) What was the purpose of your journey? (4) How old are you? (5) What is the nature of your business and what is the vehicle used for (please list…) (6) Have you had a fixed penalty notice before? (I suppose that’s to track returning clients for modifying the marketing…) (7) Does your partner live with you and why is the vehilce registered to her?

The little Police-girl then went online to the great-Gestapo-database-in-the-sky, to check that the car’s papers were in order (they are) via some sort of monkey-house-control-room-cum-torture-chamber, wherein I could hear all the various conversations and barked codewords of strange unknown droids doing identical things to other miserable people.

You see, it’s not even worth whingeing to friends, neighbours or (most of all) my dear wife. Everybody has been so conditioned by the Big-Brother-State apparatus that my non-wearing of a belt will just be regarded as a stupid pointless libertarian affectation, and will be “my own fault”. My wife especially will loudly publish the list of all my (very very many other non-liberty-related) faults to me, in front of my sons, no word allowed in edgeways, So I shan’t even tell her. It’s rather tragic really.

Was it the Jews’ own faults that they tried to hysterically protest at the doors of the gas-chambers, realising what these finally were? Should they have gone in more docilely? I truly fear, I really do, for the future of liberty in Britain when one has got to the point that it’s not worth making even a gesture against tyranny.

8 responses to “The Police are your friends

  1. And remember, it’s for your own good!

  2. westernesse

    Sorry to hear this, Dave


  3. Yes, I’m sorry to hear about it. For what it’s worth, I advise you to pay the fine. Standing up for a set of unenforceable – and therefore non-existent – rights will only get you into more trouble.

    People often ask why we call the police pigs. I suppose the answer is because they are pigs, though I do begin to feel guilty at the attendant damage we may be doing to the name of those fine animals who provide every true Englishman with his breakfast.

  4. Sorry to hear about this David. I have to say that my own strategy is to keep my head down and avoid doing anything that might attract the attention of the State. I must admit today I took the great risk of smoking at a bus stop, but that’s about as far as I’ll go. Even doing that, I half expected three vanloads of mutaween to swoop and spirit me away in the name of Public Safety.

  5. I suppose I can post-rationalize it as a “contribution to the local “Force’s” Winterval Party Fund”.

    Also, I have decided to fashion a piece of matt black ribbon, about three feet long, to hang from the car’s doorpost, and drape charmingly across my chest. A couple of three-foot-lengths of black ducktape, stuck face-to-face, should do it, with the benefit that the top sticky-end can attach directly to the car.
    If they’re going round prying farly-non-closely into cars at this stage, it should work for a bit until I actually have to get and cannibalize a real seat belt to pass closer muster, say at roadblocks.

  6. P Robinson

    Bad luck!

    The police definitely have nothing better to do. Here in rural Lincolnshire, they regularly set up “speed traps” in one of the villages. They usually consist of at least one car, and at least three officers. They position themselves at the side of the main road, near the local school. This would be sort of understandable IF they did it during the morning or afternoon school run, but they do it in the middle of the day, when traffic is lighter, and the “kids” are safely locked up in school! Incidentally, I couldn’t tell you whether they are “real” or “fake” (PCSO) officers – either way it’s a colossal waste of money, or (as I suspect) a revenue raising operation.

    How long before you can be “nicked” for walking on the cracks in the pavement?

  7. westernesse

    “The police are not your enemy: the police are your fiend/”


  8. They hide opposite my house on Southbank Road to catch people doing an illegal crossing of Cemetary Road. A pointless left turn only junction. They caught me doing it once and I was told that it was to stop all the accidents that happen there. When I said that I can see the junction from my house and have never seen an accident in the 20 years I have lived there, I was told i should know better!