Following the recent riots in the UK, many posh people have been talking over the reasons behind the looting. It appears that nothing can happen without an underlying cause. Nobody likes to admit that modern cultures and bad parenting combined with poverty may cause people to become scumbags.
Throughout the debate, a historian called David Starkey, tried to give his opinion on one of the causes during what was meant to be an intelligent debate on a UK news programme. His opinion caused a massive backlash from politicians and popularity-seekers everywhere. Suddenly, the country shuddered as everyone got on to their high horses to blast the poor man about his opinion, once again proving that we are not yet evolved enough to have an intelligent discussion on race and the crimes associated with various subcultures within racial groups.
Curiously, I wonder what the opinion of the general public would've been if it was a coloured person who expressed David Starkey's views?
So, what is my opinion you may ask?
I'm white. Therefore I am incapable of having an intelligent debate about race and crime because if I did, that would make me a racist.
I yearn for the day that adults can have a discussion and address the problems that come hand in hand with having a multicultural society. I am happy to share my country with so many different people of different cultures and creeds, but I'm disappointed that we cannot fix the few problems that arise as a result.
One day, lives will be saved when people are intelligent enough to discuss these issues without screaming 'racist' to bolster their own popularity.
Showing posts with label UK. Show all posts
Showing posts with label UK. Show all posts
Monday, 15 August 2011
Thursday, 29 October 2009
The Worst 'C' Word of Them All
No, it's not cunt.
Nowadays, there's one word we hear all the time, every day, on TV adverts, in our work places and on the news. The word has become twisted and its morphed into a word I hate more than any other. What is the word? What is this terrible, terrible string of letters?
Compensation.
I know, it's not got the same impact as cunt but for me I would much prefer for someone to call me a cunt than to mention compensation in my presence. I will start by saying that I have, in the past, had compensation when I was involved in a motorcycle accident so this probably makes me a complete hypocrite. I will however explain the difference in that 'compensation' and c*mpensation.
At the start of 2007 I had the misfortune of being knocked off my motorcycle by a careless old man. I don't have any ill feelings towards him because it was an accident, exaggerated by the fact that he was really quite old.Plus I made it away alive. He was also very courteous after the accident and admitted his error; something which most modern business types would not dream of doing in a million years. When I was knocked off my bike I damaged my right shoulder and this still occasionally gives my jip. In addition to this, my bike was quite damaged. So, I was 'compensated' by his insurance covering the cost of repairs and 'compensated' by having a payout to cover the damaged jacket, helmet and my shoulder.
This form of compensation comes from the insurance company who will only cover the cost of things that have been damaged and injuries that have a lasting effect. My shoulder does occasionally hurt and may cause problems in later life but its nothing I can't cope with and I got about £3000 for that part of the claim. The reason I don't think I'm a hypocrite is because this cost is not based on any bullshit personal stress or anything, just the cost of the potential surgery I may have to endure in the future to correct it. So, really, I am no better off than I was before the accident. We are even. I am compensated.
What I hate is when people claim c*mpensation for things that have caused nothing but a mild inconvenience to them or when they claim for their precious time which they would've spent complaining anyway. That's the sad truth: there are people out there who actually enjoy complaining. Anotherthin that ticks me off is when people request c*mpensation for their own idiocy. It was an idea that began in America when fat people started to sue McDonald's and it's culminated in people over here suing for everything from slipping on a grape to walking into walls and falling down manholes.
It occurred to me the other day how much these things are affecting society. Just walking down the street made me realise how we now have to have signs warning about every potential hazard that our own self preservation impulse should protect against. If someone needs a sign to tell them to duck or to step down or to not cross a street or to not walk into something then they shouldn't be alive. I hate to sound like Hitler but it's contaminating the genepool. Idiots -- during prehistoric times -- would not have survived and as a result their idiocy wouldn't have been passed onto future generations. Unfortunately we can no longer seperate the wheat from the chaff.
The three things I saw that made me realise how stupid society has become were:
This is not my proudest admission, but when I was 10 years old I owned a helecopter toy that launched from a plastic helipad when you pulled a cord. I was stupid enough to want an overhead view and the plastic helecopter flew straight into my right eye. I had to endure the embarrassment of sitting in an eye clinic and having my name read out followed by my condition: "A helecopter flew in his eye."
The nurse then said with deplorable expectancy, "Oh, I hope it wasn't a real helecopter." Her wit was unbelievable and the laugh she got from the rest of the patients probably made her day. If I wasn't 10 I would've said, "It felt fucking real to me. I didn't ask for Krusty the Clown to see to me so get me a real nurse or shut the fuck up."
So, I ended up with a patch on my eye for a month (this was before Johnny Depp murdered our perception of pirates and made everyone think they were cool) so I looked like a tit. The comments, "Where's your parrot Blackbeard" still live with me to this day... but did I sue? Did I claim c*mpensation? No! I learned some valuable lessons:
As a final note, if you are one of these people who likes to complain or complains to get all you can and think there is nothing wrong with this, I ask you one thing:
When you're screaming and shouting down the phone at someone, demanding something you don't deserve for something that was in all probability your fault, what about the poor bastard listening to you? You may say it's their job to be treated like shit, but it's not. They're there to help, to fix the issue but not to fill your wallet.
And you're not going to get c*mpensation by acting like a cunt.
--DEADLIEST WARRIOR SPOILER--
* I mention the pirate vs. knight episode because I am a fan of the TV show. It is ridiculous in many ways, but its fun and seems to be suprisingly accurate. However the episode where a pirate beats a knight should be petitioned against and removed from TV.
Nowadays, there's one word we hear all the time, every day, on TV adverts, in our work places and on the news. The word has become twisted and its morphed into a word I hate more than any other. What is the word? What is this terrible, terrible string of letters?
Compensation.
I know, it's not got the same impact as cunt but for me I would much prefer for someone to call me a cunt than to mention compensation in my presence. I will start by saying that I have, in the past, had compensation when I was involved in a motorcycle accident so this probably makes me a complete hypocrite. I will however explain the difference in that 'compensation' and c*mpensation.
At the start of 2007 I had the misfortune of being knocked off my motorcycle by a careless old man. I don't have any ill feelings towards him because it was an accident, exaggerated by the fact that he was really quite old.Plus I made it away alive. He was also very courteous after the accident and admitted his error; something which most modern business types would not dream of doing in a million years. When I was knocked off my bike I damaged my right shoulder and this still occasionally gives my jip. In addition to this, my bike was quite damaged. So, I was 'compensated' by his insurance covering the cost of repairs and 'compensated' by having a payout to cover the damaged jacket, helmet and my shoulder.
This form of compensation comes from the insurance company who will only cover the cost of things that have been damaged and injuries that have a lasting effect. My shoulder does occasionally hurt and may cause problems in later life but its nothing I can't cope with and I got about £3000 for that part of the claim. The reason I don't think I'm a hypocrite is because this cost is not based on any bullshit personal stress or anything, just the cost of the potential surgery I may have to endure in the future to correct it. So, really, I am no better off than I was before the accident. We are even. I am compensated.
What I hate is when people claim c*mpensation for things that have caused nothing but a mild inconvenience to them or when they claim for their precious time which they would've spent complaining anyway. That's the sad truth: there are people out there who actually enjoy complaining. Anotherthin that ticks me off is when people request c*mpensation for their own idiocy. It was an idea that began in America when fat people started to sue McDonald's and it's culminated in people over here suing for everything from slipping on a grape to walking into walls and falling down manholes.
Peter Griffin from Family Guy demonstrates a way of getting more compensation.
It occurred to me the other day how much these things are affecting society. Just walking down the street made me realise how we now have to have signs warning about every potential hazard that our own self preservation impulse should protect against. If someone needs a sign to tell them to duck or to step down or to not cross a street or to not walk into something then they shouldn't be alive. I hate to sound like Hitler but it's contaminating the genepool. Idiots -- during prehistoric times -- would not have survived and as a result their idiocy wouldn't have been passed onto future generations. Unfortunately we can no longer seperate the wheat from the chaff.
The three things I saw that made me realise how stupid society has become were:
- Foam around scaffolding. With all probability this means that at some point some stupid bastard has walked into the metal strutts. Instead of walking off in shame, they must have tried to sue over their idiocy. This is only a recent thing.
- A sign saying 'low ceiling'. We see these all the time. Presumably a tall person has completely ignored their eyes and walked face first into the ceiling when descending stairs. Fool.
- My inability to purchase toy guns. I know this seems silly, but I trekked around town for two hours trying to find a shop that sells toy guns for a halloween costume. Fucking impossible. When I finally found somewhere that sold them, they were bright green with a big red bell end on the tip of them, as if the green wasn't enough to prove that they weren't real guns.
This is not my proudest admission, but when I was 10 years old I owned a helecopter toy that launched from a plastic helipad when you pulled a cord. I was stupid enough to want an overhead view and the plastic helecopter flew straight into my right eye. I had to endure the embarrassment of sitting in an eye clinic and having my name read out followed by my condition: "A helecopter flew in his eye."
The nurse then said with deplorable expectancy, "Oh, I hope it wasn't a real helecopter." Her wit was unbelievable and the laugh she got from the rest of the patients probably made her day. If I wasn't 10 I would've said, "It felt fucking real to me. I didn't ask for Krusty the Clown to see to me so get me a real nurse or shut the fuck up."
So, I ended up with a patch on my eye for a month (this was before Johnny Depp murdered our perception of pirates and made everyone think they were cool) so I looked like a tit. The comments, "Where's your parrot Blackbeard" still live with me to this day... but did I sue? Did I claim c*mpensation? No! I learned some valuable lessons:
- Don't get an overhead view of any helecopter taking off, even a toy one.
- If you're going to make a 10 year old feel better don't do it by making him feel like a tit and look like a tit.
- Pirates are not cool and despite what Deadliest Warrior says, a knight would kick a pirates scurvy-ridden effeminate arse*
- Always remember the person that called you Blackbeard and make sure you remind everyone of the time he went through a whole swimming lesson with a bollock sticking out the side of his swimming trunks.
As a final note, if you are one of these people who likes to complain or complains to get all you can and think there is nothing wrong with this, I ask you one thing:
When you're screaming and shouting down the phone at someone, demanding something you don't deserve for something that was in all probability your fault, what about the poor bastard listening to you? You may say it's their job to be treated like shit, but it's not. They're there to help, to fix the issue but not to fill your wallet.
And you're not going to get c*mpensation by acting like a cunt.
--DEADLIEST WARRIOR SPOILER--
* I mention the pirate vs. knight episode because I am a fan of the TV show. It is ridiculous in many ways, but its fun and seems to be suprisingly accurate. However the episode where a pirate beats a knight should be petitioned against and removed from TV.
Monday, 19 October 2009
Why I Feel Sorry For British Gangs
It's a tough world we live in isn't it? The economic crisis we're only just crawling from has caused thousands of people to lose their jobs, their homes and their hope. There are now people working any jobs they can find; taking massive pay cuts and doing things they would've never considered before just so they can pay the bills. But apparently this is nothing compared to the plight of inner-city youths. They've apparently been in this economic spiral into the unknown for years. In fact, they've had to 'earn' everything they have now and work their way up from 'the streets'. The world has shat on them and they've had to revert to crime as it's the only option they have... isn't it?
No, it isn't. And anyone who thinks that crime is the only way out of poverty is a massive tit.
But that doesn't stop me from feeling a little bit sorry for these lowlifes. Why? Because they are forever tainted and stained and branded with being in British gangs. And let's face it, no matter what weapons they carry, what respect they beat out of people or what they deal or steal, they just won't be as cool as American gangs. And that's what it's all about. Getting something for nothing and looking cool whilst you do it.
American gangs live in places called 'The Bronx' and have cool names like 'The Bloods' and have easy access to firearms which they hold tilted to the side, which is also cool. In the UK, we have gangs that live in places that are named after flowers and meadows and other nice places. They don't have easy access to guns, in fact those firearms they carry tend to be old rusty pistols that look like something they've found in a car boot sale or 'Auntie Wainwrights' from the BBC's The Last of the Summer Wine. And don't even get me started on their names.
The two main gangs in the area I used to work were called 'The Burger Bar Boys' (Boys probably had a 'z' instead of an 's') and the 'Johnson Crew'. Not exactly the scariest names on the planet... in fact 'The Johnson Crew' sounds like a group of cartoon characters you'd see promoting safe sex on a school sex ed video.
I was once threatened by a gang of people who, I shit you not, warned me that I needed to leave the area as it was 'Honeysuckle Lane' territory. They had knives so I didn't argue, but I did laugh when at a suitably safe distance. It's just not as having territory in 'The Bronx'. In fact their main rivals are probably 'The Butterscotch Crescent Boyz'.
Now at this point some people are probably thinking that I'm trying to cover the serious issue of teenage gangs with humour but this is far from the truth. Hundreds of people are killed by gangs or in gang-related altercations each year in the UK so this is not a light-hearted subject. However, I do feel this is a problem the government is handling in the wrong way. Instead of going on about how serious and 'bad' it is to be involved in gangs, they should just get people to see the truth: British gangs will never be as cool as American gangs and you aren't going to become a rapper when you're from Whitton-on-Sea so why bother? Why not just get a normal job and live your life?
When a person enters into a gang they are going down a road that forks off into two eventualities: death or prison. That's it. There's no "I worked my way up from the streets to become a famous rapper", it's just death or being someone's bitch-boy in prison. I imagine it's hard to think of rap lyrics when 'Big Bubba' is making you his man-wife. It's only America that allows former gang leaders to become rap stars and even they can't escape their former life. 50 cent for instance. He's been shot 9 times. That proves two things:
1) Gangsters are crap shots
2) Nobody has ever liked 50 cent.
We need to start laughing at gangs a bit more. If we make them realise just how fucking stupid it is to think you can make a life out being a criminal, they may just stop... and get a normal job. Sure, it doesn't help with all the American rap stars pumping out songs about their 'money' and their 'bitches' but I'm sure common sense will eventually prevail.
Here's my realistic rap song titled 'Bubba's Wife':
I grew up in the streets on Whitton-on-Sea,
No respect from my bros or my family,
So I got my shit together and moved on out,
And lived in a hostel like a dirty lout.
Stealin' and dealin's what I did best,
You know that for the wicked there ain't no rest.
But life wasn't good on Honeysuckle lane,
Those boyz from the west side (shopping centre) were a constant pain.
Chorus
Pain, pain, there ain't no gain.
Makin' my way from the streets to fame.
(Streets to fame)
Pain, pain, it's part'a my life.
But I'm happy now I'm Bubba's wife.
(Bubba's wife)
So we had an altercation, a fierce confrontation:
a terrible gun fight in front of the bus station.
The rozzers got called and someone was hit,
I started runnin but I was in the shit.
The rozzers kicked me down, put me in my place,
They stamped on my body and stamped on my face.
I was taken to the cells and they found my stash,
My anus was searched by a man with a 'tache.
Chorus
Pain, pain, there ain't no gain.
Makin' my way from the streets to fame.
(Streets to fame)
Pain, pain, it's part'a my life.
But I'm happy now I'm Bubba's wife.
(Bubba's wife)
So I ain't no rapper; at least not with fame,
I'm in a cell and I'm away from my game.
I hate it here and I really wanna leave,
My assholes as big as a wizards sleeve.
I've lost my respect; I've not a single fan,
But that was before I met my man.
Now I hide my regrets; I don't wallow in strife,
Because I'm happy now I'm Bubba's wife.
I expect that to be the next Christmas number 1.
I hope y'all enjoyed it because I consider that to be a rap which sums up the life of most gangsters in Britain. In truth, there isn't a place on this little island for idiots like that.
I guess the moral of the story is if you want to be a gangster, move to America or you're just not cool. Now, I leave you with a clip of one of the mighty Bill Hicks' rants about english gangsters. It is a laugh:
No, it isn't. And anyone who thinks that crime is the only way out of poverty is a massive tit.
But that doesn't stop me from feeling a little bit sorry for these lowlifes. Why? Because they are forever tainted and stained and branded with being in British gangs. And let's face it, no matter what weapons they carry, what respect they beat out of people or what they deal or steal, they just won't be as cool as American gangs. And that's what it's all about. Getting something for nothing and looking cool whilst you do it.
American gangs live in places called 'The Bronx' and have cool names like 'The Bloods' and have easy access to firearms which they hold tilted to the side, which is also cool. In the UK, we have gangs that live in places that are named after flowers and meadows and other nice places. They don't have easy access to guns, in fact those firearms they carry tend to be old rusty pistols that look like something they've found in a car boot sale or 'Auntie Wainwrights' from the BBC's The Last of the Summer Wine. And don't even get me started on their names.
The two main gangs in the area I used to work were called 'The Burger Bar Boys' (Boys probably had a 'z' instead of an 's') and the 'Johnson Crew'. Not exactly the scariest names on the planet... in fact 'The Johnson Crew' sounds like a group of cartoon characters you'd see promoting safe sex on a school sex ed video.
I was once threatened by a gang of people who, I shit you not, warned me that I needed to leave the area as it was 'Honeysuckle Lane' territory. They had knives so I didn't argue, but I did laugh when at a suitably safe distance. It's just not as having territory in 'The Bronx'. In fact their main rivals are probably 'The Butterscotch Crescent Boyz'.
Now at this point some people are probably thinking that I'm trying to cover the serious issue of teenage gangs with humour but this is far from the truth. Hundreds of people are killed by gangs or in gang-related altercations each year in the UK so this is not a light-hearted subject. However, I do feel this is a problem the government is handling in the wrong way. Instead of going on about how serious and 'bad' it is to be involved in gangs, they should just get people to see the truth: British gangs will never be as cool as American gangs and you aren't going to become a rapper when you're from Whitton-on-Sea so why bother? Why not just get a normal job and live your life?
When a person enters into a gang they are going down a road that forks off into two eventualities: death or prison. That's it. There's no "I worked my way up from the streets to become a famous rapper", it's just death or being someone's bitch-boy in prison. I imagine it's hard to think of rap lyrics when 'Big Bubba' is making you his man-wife. It's only America that allows former gang leaders to become rap stars and even they can't escape their former life. 50 cent for instance. He's been shot 9 times. That proves two things:
1) Gangsters are crap shots
2) Nobody has ever liked 50 cent.
We need to start laughing at gangs a bit more. If we make them realise just how fucking stupid it is to think you can make a life out being a criminal, they may just stop... and get a normal job. Sure, it doesn't help with all the American rap stars pumping out songs about their 'money' and their 'bitches' but I'm sure common sense will eventually prevail.
Here's my realistic rap song titled 'Bubba's Wife':
I grew up in the streets on Whitton-on-Sea,
No respect from my bros or my family,
So I got my shit together and moved on out,
And lived in a hostel like a dirty lout.
Stealin' and dealin's what I did best,
You know that for the wicked there ain't no rest.
But life wasn't good on Honeysuckle lane,
Those boyz from the west side (shopping centre) were a constant pain.
Chorus
Pain, pain, there ain't no gain.
Makin' my way from the streets to fame.
(Streets to fame)
Pain, pain, it's part'a my life.
But I'm happy now I'm Bubba's wife.
(Bubba's wife)
So we had an altercation, a fierce confrontation:
a terrible gun fight in front of the bus station.
The rozzers got called and someone was hit,
I started runnin but I was in the shit.
The rozzers kicked me down, put me in my place,
They stamped on my body and stamped on my face.
I was taken to the cells and they found my stash,
My anus was searched by a man with a 'tache.
Chorus
Pain, pain, there ain't no gain.
Makin' my way from the streets to fame.
(Streets to fame)
Pain, pain, it's part'a my life.
But I'm happy now I'm Bubba's wife.
(Bubba's wife)
So I ain't no rapper; at least not with fame,
I'm in a cell and I'm away from my game.
I hate it here and I really wanna leave,
My assholes as big as a wizards sleeve.
I've lost my respect; I've not a single fan,
But that was before I met my man.
Now I hide my regrets; I don't wallow in strife,
Because I'm happy now I'm Bubba's wife.
I expect that to be the next Christmas number 1.
I hope y'all enjoyed it because I consider that to be a rap which sums up the life of most gangsters in Britain. In truth, there isn't a place on this little island for idiots like that.
I guess the moral of the story is if you want to be a gangster, move to America or you're just not cool. Now, I leave you with a clip of one of the mighty Bill Hicks' rants about english gangsters. It is a laugh:
Sunday, 11 October 2009
"Mr. Criminal, we're not 'Forcing' you, We're 'Servicing' you."
Ok, so this is my first blog and in some ways it is perhaps the most important one. Why? Well, because it sets a tone for the rest of my posts. It let's everyone know my motives and why I've chosen to write about my life and my innermost thoughts on a fairly public website.
I could say it's because I feel I'm genuinely interesting (that would be a lie) or because I want to make a difference to the world (that is futile, and also a lie) or it may be because I simply want to have a rant and make people laugh. Bingo. I'm not going to lie, people write blogs for various reasons: usually to put a point across or to make themselves feel important or to appear as philosophical as possible. Others wish to educate or influence other people. I can't be bothered with any of that, nor do I have the time or intelligence to structure my thoughts into a cohesive message that people will take on board.
I'm good at ranting though -- and rant I shall -- but the only real reason for me writing this blog is because I am not an important person, nor am I an intellectual: I just want to feel that there are other people out there who may listen to what I have to say and laugh. It's a bonus if you agree, but all I'm really after is a momentary smile on someone's face before they get back to the tedium of everyday life. I'm not out to change the world, I'm just out to make the best of a bad situation.
So, about me, Kekea. Obviously that's not my real name, nor am I going to go to the trouble of explaining how I came to pick that particular name... at least not yet.
I spent a short period of my life in the West Midlands police before leaving, of my own accord, and getting a job as a complaints specialist at a well-known mobile communications company. I am not a police constable anymore, nor do I wish to be, and I have the utmost respect for those doing that job. I take my beanie hat off to those in that position, you are far stronger than me. The question many people ask is "Why did you leave?"
A valid question.
I will explain. I worked in a pretty nasty area in Birmingham, 40 miles away from my friends and family. This made a hard job even more difficult. Afterall, you need support if you're working with such... erm... interesting people each day. Without that support, your mind wanders: you watch pigeons mate instead of watching the drug house across the street, you count the number of clouds you see that look like animals and you use the laser speed trap to see how fast a squirrel can run up a tree (I'm told it's 6mph). Basically, your attention is not where it should be. Not good for someone who is meant to be out there protecting the law-abiding public from nasty people. So, I took my leave of the police and didn't really look back.
But, during my time in the force I realised how much times have changed. I'm only 25, (I was only 20 when I was in) but in the few years prior to me joining the force there was a huge change in police values and the police image. Millions were invested in changing the way constables are trained and the way the public percieved their local bobbies and do you know why? A TV programme...
That's right... a TV programme.
I believe it was 'Panorama' (correct me if I'm wrong) who dedicated an episode to an investigation of racism in the police force. During this show, viewers were apalled to see officers talking about gunning down asians as they leave a mosque and joking around under a pillow case that had been made to look like a Ku Klux Klan hood. It was, obviously, quite upsetting and the actions of the people in the film were sickening, but at the same time it was blown vastly out of proportion.
Not every police officer is, or was, a racist. The force as a whole was not racist and in my opinion that programme did far more harm than good. Shortly after it was aired, it was decided that the police had to be more approachable, more friendly, more diverse and more... well, average. Which is why I got in.
In order to make a less 'elite' force it meant restructuring the training to make sure it didn't discriminate against anyone. Now anyone could join, it didn't matter how small you were, what colour you were, what tattoos you had or how far you could run. Now all that mattered was that you knew that it is NOT right to call a blackboard a blackboard. It is a chalkboard. And Baa-Baa Black Sheep? You sing that nursery rhyme in here sonny and it's paramount to parading around with a pillow case on your head and a burning cross in your hand.
We spent a good couple of weeks learning how all these things were in fact racist. People are not black, they are 'coloured', they are not Chinese, they are 'oriental', they are not Pakistani, they are 'asian'. It was also hinted that the common 'IC' system of identifying the colour of a suspect was to go out of the window. What they would replace it with is a mystery:
"1248 to control. We've just interviewed the victim of the robbery and we're looking for a... male. With a hoody... and eyes. That is all."
"What is the colour of the suspect, 1248?"
"I'm not racist, control. To quote Michael Jackson, 'It don't matter if you're black or white'..."
It doesn't quite work does it? I am sure they will bring in a more inconspicuous way of identifying the race and colour of a suspect but why they need to change things that aren't broken in the first place vexes me. Granted, we can't go back to the 70's where they probably wouldn't have frowned at a suspect 'colour chart' that goes from 'N*gger' down to 'P*ki', through to 'Good ol' Englishman' but getting rid of a system of identification and changing the way constables address a particular race is a little extreme. I remember talking to a coloured friend who took exception to being called 'coloured'. He said, quite rightly:
"Coloured? That makes me sound like a paint-by-numbers. I'm black!"
And this brings me to the whole point of this rant. Among the many different aspects of the police force that were changed was the name itself. The police force was no longer a 'Force', it was to be a 'Service'. Apparently changing that one word would completely change the way the public perceived the police.
It didn't.
But, a combination of the political correctness, the changing of the name and the way they recruited did change the way the public perceives the police and in my opinion it changed it for the worse. In the 70's they may have been a bunch of cynical, rowdy racists but they got the job done and, more importantly, they were respected. I have real respect for the police and the job they do but many people don't. PCSO's are seen as a joke and if a police officer is struggling with a criminal, your average Joe is more likely to be rooting for the scumbag to get away than assist the copper.
You don't believe me? Ask around. Most people don't like the police. The amount of times someone sniggered 'ACAB' (all coppers are bastards) under their breath when I was working as a constable was unbelievable. Not only that, but constables now have to contend with constantly being branded a racist.
"Yo man, you're only arresting me because I'm black."
"No, I'm arresting you because you're a twat. Colour doesn't come into it."
So, I left because it was a hard job. A hard job that nobody really appreciates. If you're spending time fighting to keep someone alive after a stabbing you'll only get complaints from Mrs. Miggins because you didn't come to see her when a yob smashed her plant pot. If you give someone CPR, you'll only get sued because you broke their rib. If you're left alone for three seconds with a minor you'll get suspended when their parents claim you touched their child. This is the country I live in. A country where all that matters is number one and where nobody dares offend anyone.
And god forbid you even dare to call a blackboard a blackboard.
This blog is dedicated to all those hard working police people who are 'serving' us out there. You do a hard job but you can rest assured you have at least one fan here.
I could say it's because I feel I'm genuinely interesting (that would be a lie) or because I want to make a difference to the world (that is futile, and also a lie) or it may be because I simply want to have a rant and make people laugh. Bingo. I'm not going to lie, people write blogs for various reasons: usually to put a point across or to make themselves feel important or to appear as philosophical as possible. Others wish to educate or influence other people. I can't be bothered with any of that, nor do I have the time or intelligence to structure my thoughts into a cohesive message that people will take on board.
I'm good at ranting though -- and rant I shall -- but the only real reason for me writing this blog is because I am not an important person, nor am I an intellectual: I just want to feel that there are other people out there who may listen to what I have to say and laugh. It's a bonus if you agree, but all I'm really after is a momentary smile on someone's face before they get back to the tedium of everyday life. I'm not out to change the world, I'm just out to make the best of a bad situation.
So, about me, Kekea. Obviously that's not my real name, nor am I going to go to the trouble of explaining how I came to pick that particular name... at least not yet.
I spent a short period of my life in the West Midlands police before leaving, of my own accord, and getting a job as a complaints specialist at a well-known mobile communications company. I am not a police constable anymore, nor do I wish to be, and I have the utmost respect for those doing that job. I take my beanie hat off to those in that position, you are far stronger than me. The question many people ask is "Why did you leave?"
A valid question.
I will explain. I worked in a pretty nasty area in Birmingham, 40 miles away from my friends and family. This made a hard job even more difficult. Afterall, you need support if you're working with such... erm... interesting people each day. Without that support, your mind wanders: you watch pigeons mate instead of watching the drug house across the street, you count the number of clouds you see that look like animals and you use the laser speed trap to see how fast a squirrel can run up a tree (I'm told it's 6mph). Basically, your attention is not where it should be. Not good for someone who is meant to be out there protecting the law-abiding public from nasty people. So, I took my leave of the police and didn't really look back.
But, during my time in the force I realised how much times have changed. I'm only 25, (I was only 20 when I was in) but in the few years prior to me joining the force there was a huge change in police values and the police image. Millions were invested in changing the way constables are trained and the way the public percieved their local bobbies and do you know why? A TV programme...
That's right... a TV programme.
I believe it was 'Panorama' (correct me if I'm wrong) who dedicated an episode to an investigation of racism in the police force. During this show, viewers were apalled to see officers talking about gunning down asians as they leave a mosque and joking around under a pillow case that had been made to look like a Ku Klux Klan hood. It was, obviously, quite upsetting and the actions of the people in the film were sickening, but at the same time it was blown vastly out of proportion.
Not every police officer is, or was, a racist. The force as a whole was not racist and in my opinion that programme did far more harm than good. Shortly after it was aired, it was decided that the police had to be more approachable, more friendly, more diverse and more... well, average. Which is why I got in.
In order to make a less 'elite' force it meant restructuring the training to make sure it didn't discriminate against anyone. Now anyone could join, it didn't matter how small you were, what colour you were, what tattoos you had or how far you could run. Now all that mattered was that you knew that it is NOT right to call a blackboard a blackboard. It is a chalkboard. And Baa-Baa Black Sheep? You sing that nursery rhyme in here sonny and it's paramount to parading around with a pillow case on your head and a burning cross in your hand.
We spent a good couple of weeks learning how all these things were in fact racist. People are not black, they are 'coloured', they are not Chinese, they are 'oriental', they are not Pakistani, they are 'asian'. It was also hinted that the common 'IC' system of identifying the colour of a suspect was to go out of the window. What they would replace it with is a mystery:
"1248 to control. We've just interviewed the victim of the robbery and we're looking for a... male. With a hoody... and eyes. That is all."
"What is the colour of the suspect, 1248?"
"I'm not racist, control. To quote Michael Jackson, 'It don't matter if you're black or white'..."
It doesn't quite work does it? I am sure they will bring in a more inconspicuous way of identifying the race and colour of a suspect but why they need to change things that aren't broken in the first place vexes me. Granted, we can't go back to the 70's where they probably wouldn't have frowned at a suspect 'colour chart' that goes from 'N*gger' down to 'P*ki', through to 'Good ol' Englishman' but getting rid of a system of identification and changing the way constables address a particular race is a little extreme. I remember talking to a coloured friend who took exception to being called 'coloured'. He said, quite rightly:
"Coloured? That makes me sound like a paint-by-numbers. I'm black!"
And this brings me to the whole point of this rant. Among the many different aspects of the police force that were changed was the name itself. The police force was no longer a 'Force', it was to be a 'Service'. Apparently changing that one word would completely change the way the public perceived the police.
It didn't.
But, a combination of the political correctness, the changing of the name and the way they recruited did change the way the public perceives the police and in my opinion it changed it for the worse. In the 70's they may have been a bunch of cynical, rowdy racists but they got the job done and, more importantly, they were respected. I have real respect for the police and the job they do but many people don't. PCSO's are seen as a joke and if a police officer is struggling with a criminal, your average Joe is more likely to be rooting for the scumbag to get away than assist the copper.
You don't believe me? Ask around. Most people don't like the police. The amount of times someone sniggered 'ACAB' (all coppers are bastards) under their breath when I was working as a constable was unbelievable. Not only that, but constables now have to contend with constantly being branded a racist.
"Yo man, you're only arresting me because I'm black."
"No, I'm arresting you because you're a twat. Colour doesn't come into it."
So, I left because it was a hard job. A hard job that nobody really appreciates. If you're spending time fighting to keep someone alive after a stabbing you'll only get complaints from Mrs. Miggins because you didn't come to see her when a yob smashed her plant pot. If you give someone CPR, you'll only get sued because you broke their rib. If you're left alone for three seconds with a minor you'll get suspended when their parents claim you touched their child. This is the country I live in. A country where all that matters is number one and where nobody dares offend anyone.
And god forbid you even dare to call a blackboard a blackboard.
This blog is dedicated to all those hard working police people who are 'serving' us out there. You do a hard job but you can rest assured you have at least one fan here.
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