Here's a contrast for you - Met officers just waiting to get stuck into a candle-lit vigil by women commemorating the death allegedly at the hands of a Met officer during his off duty leisure time
and Ibrox SundayChief Superintendent Mark Sutherland, Divisional Commander for Greater Glasgow Division, said: “We are aware of proposed gatherings in both George Square and outside Ibrox stadium on Sunday, 7 March, 2021.“In line with current Scottish Government Coronavirus guidelines, all gatherings are currently prohibited and we would urge members of the public to comply with these restrictions. An appropriate policing response is in place and officers are already using the approach of engaging, explaining and encouraging compliance with the restrictions. Our response will be measured and appropriate. We understand fans want to celebrate but they must do so safely and lawfully. We continue to ask everyone to do the right thing to stop the spread of the virus.”
Not saying the Weegie police are heroes of calm, moderate, consensual policing, but of the thousands who gathered in confined spaces in George Square and outside the stadium, only 28 people were subsequently arrested, and, in a potentially howlingly dangerous situation, nobody died, no faces were ground into the tarmac by a heavily-tooled-up cop and no riot occurred - although , I grant you, to my eyes, any gathering of footie fans looks like a riot. Maybe the Met could receive lessons from this Mark Sutherland in appropriate policing responses. Start with Cressida. We've not forgotten Jean Charles da Silva e de Menezes, an electrician on his way to work on the 22 July 2005 killed by officers of the London Metropolitan Police Service at Stockwell Underground station on Dick's orders after he was mistakenly identified to have been involved in the previous day's failed bombing attempts. He was killed by eleven hollow point bullets, seven of which blew his head apart. Gave rise to the saying: why did they stop shooting? Cos they ran out of bullets.
Good to know that no-one did anything wrong and that Dick rapidly rose to her present exalted position of leadership and command.
"If seven maids with seven mops swept it for half a year, do you suppose, the Walrus said, that they could get it clear? I doubt it, said the Carpenter, and shed a bitter tear."
Here's the Carpenter on another victim of Metropolitan policing. Do you remember Mark Saunders, a barrister who was shot dead by firearms officers in May 2008, following a five-hour armed standoff at his flat in Chelsea? After a two-week inquest, the jury decided by a majority of nine to two that each of the three potentially fatal shots to his head, heart and liver had been lawfully fired.
MORE THIN BLUE LINE OF HEROES. 2/10/2010
POLICE UP IN ARMS.
My members simply cannot be expected to put up with this, grunted constable and right worshipful master, Dave Gob, of the Police Federation.
Speaking on BBC Newsnight, Constable Gob, holder of the Queen's Medal for Leadswinging, said It's simply not good enough, a policeman's lot is not a happy one, day after day my members are skiving off, fencing stolen goods, fiddling their overtime, dealing drugs and framing people up and this is all the thanks we get.......
Yes, Kirsty, thanks. I mean, fifty nine of my members were there, tooled-up and psyched-up, ready willing and able to kill members of the public and what happened......????
Well, what did happen?
I'll tell you what happened, Kirsty, only seven of them even got a shot off, and of them, only three managed to kill the guy, only three. Out of fifty-nine. Fifty nine armed officers and only three of them got a bullet into the offender's head, heart or liver. That's fifty-six of my members will be scarred for life, carrying this around until their dying day - that when the chance came to empty their magazines into the body of some poor, drunk, fucked-up clown they were denied the opportunity they'd trained for and will probably just have to go back to crushing people's testicles in the back of the panda car or slapping women around the station for, well, for being women. I mean, who needs 'em, women. Not my members, certainly. Your documents in order, Kirsty? You sure?
I heard the so-called trained negotiator, talking to Mark Saunders, sounded like someone from an East Enders story, her boss, muttering in her ear, obviously a graduate in management-speak bullshit, an Ian Blair type, sorry, Sir Ian, or is it Lord Ian, just as long as we're paying him a huge pension, that's the main thing; Sonia, I think her name was, best thing would be to teach her to speak English, before enhancing her negotiating skills, having her gabbling on the phone would remove the will to live from the most contented of people.
There were, apparently, fifty-nine armed officers and over a hundred weapons on the scene in question. Fifty-nine armed officers, to deal with one drunk, wildly blasting away with a twelve bore.
The police blogs, as well as rejoicing in the fact that Saunders was a Chelsea divorce lawyer, express the view, predictably enough, that their hard-pressed colleagues should've shot Saunders on sight, probably all fifty-nine of them. It's what they're for, innit, protecting the public. Just not from them.
It does appear that all of these confrontations must end with an overwhelming, disproportionate number of police killing the subject, patting each other on the back and lying to the coroner - although in this latest, expensive police failure one of the firearms officers said there was no need to fire; wouldn't want to be in his career shoes, God bless him, surrounded by thin blue liners.
There is, of course, a redneck argument that if you draw a weapon in public, much less discharge it, you deserve anything you get but being wound up over your wife and your drinking is probably the one thing about which we might expect Old Bill to display a bit of understanding. Saunders hadn't killed or seriously injured anyone; that any stupid, gobby, tuppence-halfpenny psyched-up copper feels able to execute him with impunity and that his colleagues support him is as much their loss as it is the Saunderses, and ours.
The police blogs are often in masturbatory fervour over the Alcohol, Firearms and Tobacco Agents' mass murders in Waco Texas; it's what they wanna do, kill us all, take us down, poor, crazy, excitable wankers, take us out.
Here's an interesting and disturbing aspect:
As George Floyd is to the Black Lives Matter Movement, perhaps Sarah Everard's death will spark a fire that will revolutionise the behaviours of some men to most women. "I doubt it, said the Carpenter, and shed a bitter tear." The BBC reported that some survey had found that 80% of women had been the subject of unwanted sexual assaults during their life times. I'm surprised. I'd have put it at 100%. I don't think you want me to itemise the ways in which I have been the recipient of such behaviours - suffice it to say that I grew up in Halifax, in the West Riding of Yorkshire, which seemed to be plagued by either a very great many exhibitionists, or one chap who covered a great deal of ground - maybe he had a motorbike? The frotteurs and groin-grabbers are one thing, but I learned the other day of an extreme form of needleplay, which involves sticking needles into the bottoms of passing female strangers. Ah well, boys will be boys......
Here's an old boy for you, Leader of the Free World, palsied finger on the button of global nuclear Armageddon, spiffed up all nice. (hat tip to editor mr verge).
Americans, what do you expect? As for the private wedding ceremony between the aristocrat formerly known as Prince Harry and his honey, in their back yard (which is American for a sumptuous green sward complete with flowers and stuff, and not a stretch of tarmac with dustbins and stray cats), by the Archbishop of Canterbury, no less - turns out it was the rehearsal. Woof woof.
|No, not that one
|Yes, that one.
mr ishmael's essay today was:
More Thin Blue Line of Heroes drafted 2/10/2010There's a whole lot more from mr ishmael in the anthology: Honest Not Invent, which is available from Lulu, Amazon,