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On that note, the worst anecdotes (in my mind) from the UK, just in case we need any more are as folows.
A while back I read a report in a paper about a cop who'd finally gone down for raping a number of female suspects in the cells; bad enough you might think, but what I don't think i'll ever forget was what he (allegedly) said to one immediately afterwards: "Well, what are you gonna do now, call the police?"
The other was fairly well-reported quite recently: a man chased an intruder out of his house brandishing a knife (not good admittedly) and a passing police car ran him down (deliberately or otherwsie). Not only that, but the officers then proceded to kick him in his broken leg for fourty-five minutes. During this time, oddly enough, the guy begged them to call him an ambulance. To which one of the officers responded, "You're an ambulance." (Let it never be said that they don't have a sense of humour.) The matter came to light because - get this - the stupid fuckkkers were on CCTV!!!! Oh, what fun they'll have if they go to prison... Ha!
Personally, I've been the victim of homophobic stuff in Soho (nothing heavy, but frightening at the time when there's fuck all you can do and no one in the world who can help) and no shortage of psycho policing at demos courtesy of the Retropolitan Police Force here in dear old London town. (Police officers refusing medical attention to a woman when a GP was virtually begging them to let to the medics.)
I guess I may be the only one here who has personal experience of 'the other side' of this. I once did a job which while not being part of the police force, did involve a. liasing with 'them', and b. being perceived as one of 'them'. Technically I was working for British Telecom; what I was doing was answering 999 calls (er, that's 911 to you guys across the pond). The vast majority of time on that job was spent dealing with non-emergencies. However, it is I think worth noting that getting three "fucking pig, we're gonna come round and fuck you right up"-style death threats before breakfast, then inevitably listening in to a domestic assault lasting minutes, minutes during which we had to frantically trace the call 'cos the sodding phone got knocked out of the poor wretch's hand by her assailant before she could supply location, and then having an afternoon consisting of taking a call re: the discovery of sudden death of close loved one from traumatised relative and one cigarette break after that someone calling for an ambulance and you knowing that you were gonna be the last human voice they ever heard 'cos they were bleeding to death or whatever can, funily enough, drive you a bit screwey. And the lousy £6 p/h doesn't compensate much either. Luckily I got another job and didn't have to stick it long, but my point is, if the police weren't psycho before they start the job, they will be by the time they've done it a few years. They have to take what I took on the phone IRL. They can't stay that sane, really, it wouldn't be normal to do so IMHO. (That's not very helpful, but it happens to be the case.) |
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