Making Light of a Bad Situation...

It's a human trait and something which inspired the naming of this blog. Over this month, we've seen a crisis in Libya, with pro-Gaddafi and rebel forces clashing and a huge tsunami has swept a stretch of Japanese coastline off the maps. Immediately following this, nuclear disaster loomed at one of the Japanese power plants. For many people around the globe its a time to reflect on the fragile nature of life.

So far, this years tsunami has already claimed thousands of lives.

For some of us that means mourning but for others, it means it's time to find the 'sickest' joke we can and share it between our friends.

Black humour has long been a passion of the English: more so in recent times with comedians like Frankie Boyle and Jimmy Carr providing some of the most disturbingly wonderful jokes around within a short period of a particularly 'bad' thing being bought to light. But is this a bad thing? There are obviously a lot of complaints about black humour, especially when the jokes are heard by people who are affected by the disaster but there is obviously a culture surrounding the telling of these jokes because they become so popular so quickly.

So, does this make us all a nation of sickos?

No.

People deal with horrible things in various ways. Some people break down and cry, some become reclusive, some people remember and others laugh. It's human nature that we all deal with problems in different ways. Not every person is going to show compassion about a bad event as not everyone is comfortable showing their emotions to other people. If anything, ignoring something, not making comment, not bringing it up, is worse than making fun of it. At least making fun of an event shows that it is on their minds; that people are thinking about it and how it is impacting those unfortunate enough to be affected by it. Humour is also a way of distancing yourself from something and making it seem like it's not quite as real.

When I was in the police I heard various stories of the bereavement officers (the guys who had to tell a member of the public that their loved ones have died) walking up to the front door of a family of the deceased and burst out with laughter just before they knocked on to give the bad news. Bad things do unusual things to people.

Using the police as another example, I recall a time when I entered a house where a man had committed suicide; hanging himself from the rafters in the loft. His family was downstairs and rightly distraught at the news of their sons demise and me and my trainer at that time walked up to see the body. It obviously had the potential to be a fairly upsetting moment and seeing this, my trainer said something unusual, and hilarious.

When we entered the loft, SOCO (scenes of crime officers) were already up there taking photos and getting evidence from where the body had been cut down. We just stood, looking at the body and then did a quick circuit of the room in silence. My trainer then said.

"You know why he killed himself don't you?"

"No," I replied.

He sighed before saying, "Just look at the wallpaper."

The wallpaper in the loft was a horrendous 1970's design which was peeling off parts of the walls. I had to try to stop myself from laughing, lest the family in the room below hear me. Was I laughing out of disrespect? No. Was I laughing at the body? No. I was laughing because it made the situation less awkward, less real. It's the way people deal with these things.

Obviously, following the tsunami in Japan, people are already coming up with jokes and websites such as Sickipedia are bursting with classics such as: "I don't know why we're giving so much aid to Japan. I've just seen a news report and there was a man with two boats in his front lawn. He must be wealthy." That joke was something I received from a close friend in the same day as the tsunami. That's how quick humour travels.

I hate feeling like I have to openly show remorse for an event. I hear it all the time in supermarkets when an elderly couple discuss such things with a tone of complete indifference.

"Oh, isn't is terrible what's happened in Japan, isn't it?"

"Yeah, all those poor people"

"Yeah... terrible... Grab the Corn Flakes, it's buy one get one free. Have you heard Noreen is getting a new hip?"

 Corn Flakes solve all of life's problems...

Is that really a better way to remember a bad event? To mention it with fake remorse and then pretend it never happened? I actually loathe when people do this, almost as much as I loathe people who claim that something 'offends' them when really they couldn't give two shits.

Someone once said to me a particular album I owned had an 'offensive' cover. It wasn't anything bad, like a child being molested by the Jolly Green Giant, it was just a series of painted figures that morphed into each other and looked like something from John Carpenter's The Thing. It wasn't exactly beautiful, but it wasn't 'offensive'. Indeed, if this was the most offensive thing that person had ever seen then he must have led a very sheltered existence.

Obviously what happened in Japan is bad, obviously the deaths in Libya are terrible. Do we need to force ourselves to feel remorse just because we are expected to? I say no. I say we remember the events in our own way, even if it's with laughter.

Hate is a passionate thing...

A few months back I was called in for jury service and it was an experience I really enjoyed. It was interesting to see the 'other' side of the legal process. After being in the police and having seen the process of actually putting a case together and collecting evidence, it was unusual to be one of the people who actually has to decide whether someone is guilty or not.

And it was very very difficult.

I only feel I can talk in more detail about this now because I looked on the local newspapers website the other day to see that this person had in fact been sent down for the crime he apparently committed. I am shamed yet relieved to say that it was not on the back of my verdict as our group could not reach an agreement on the verdict when we were handed the case and as a result, the witnesses, victim and defendant all had to go through the whole lot again with a different jury. But the thing that really drew my attention to this particular case was the comments that the final verdict drew from members of the public.

Basically, the case we had been assigned to was a rape. I know what you're thinking; the same thing I thought when the judge said those words and we were introduced to the defendant: Guilty. Scum. Send him down. It's almost a scarily natural reaction when you are told that someone is being accused of rape because it is seen as such a heinous crime. Obviously, my more balanced views came past that initial angry assumption and I was able to look at the case with less bias. Thankfully this bias was also removed from the minds of the group I was with.

This particular crime happened back in 1995 when a group of young girls very foolishly decided to flag down a lift from a group of males who ranged from 17 years old (a couple of years older than the girls) to a man of his early 20's. Anyone who was made aware of this immediately said "Stupid girls, didn't they know how dangerous that was?" but as foolish as it was, we have to remind ourselves that 1995 was a very different time to 2010. It was a time before obsession with health and safety and a time before pedophiles lurked behind every corner. Parents were less protective and children were more free. So these girls were foolish, but only as foolish as anyone else growing up in the 90's. So they got into the car with these strangers and hitched a lift to a nearby town.

The stories of the girls (now in their early 30's) were expectedly broken and inaccurate; after all it must be hard for a person to remember a particular night from 15 years ago, even if it was a terrifying ordeal. It was this uncertainty yet general agreement on the events of the night that made the girls so believable. But they all told a similar story: during the hitched ride, the youngest male was talking to one of their friends (the victim) and they were both talking in a way which may be construed as 'flirting'. The male was leading the conversation but the soon-to-be victim was also reciprocating to an extent.

During the course of the the ride, the girls became worried as the males were driving them a very long way to their destination and when the car was pulled into a very dark car park they knew it was not going to end well. Two of the girls got out of the car and the third (apparently) attempted to step out before being pulled back into the car by the youngest male. The two other males led the girls to the other side of the car park whilst the youngest male raped their friend.

Then, in an act which some would argue bordered on stupidity but I would argue was an act of confusion, disbelief and terror, the girls got back into the car with the males and were driven to their destination with their very tearful friend and finally were dropped off by the males who then drove off. Shortly after, the incident was reported to the police who took DNA samples but never found the 'rapist'.

It was only this year that the male was caught and I suspect that was a surprise for him as it was on the back of a minor unrelated traffic offence which resulted in him giving his DNA and a match being established to this old, unsolved crime. He was arrested and questioned. His account was flawless, which obviously made me doubt it because he initially refused to answer questions and said 'no comment' to the police. It was only after speaking to his solicitor that his story became the perfect recollection that he described in court.

My personal opinion (and it is only my personal opinion) was that he was lying about some things and that he did rape the girl on that dark night in 1995. BUT, one thing to remember is that rape is NOT as straightforward a crime as people think. A girl may imply consent to a sexual act only to then to resist or refuse whilst the act is in process. Some males may struggle to know when this is genuine refusal or just playful games. An intelligent man would never get into a situation where there is any doubt, but many men are stupid and would not think that far ahead.

What I think happened that night was rape by legal definition alone and whilst I believe the defendant was guilty; I do not think it was as clear cut as people would expect and that is why half of our jury said he was guilty and the other half said not guilty. This conflict of ideas meant that we could not come to a majority decision. One of my group rightly said: "If only there was a choice which was 'a bit guilty' then I would go with that!"

The defendant, at the time of the offence, was a hot-blooded young male who may have believed that he was partaking in a kinky one-night-stand and in his mind, the victim had simply played shy and coy and when she had said stop, he had continued. It makes him an idiot and by definition a rapist, but not an evil man. It was not a tremendous struggle, she was not injured and by all accounts the victim was no angel either.

I think he needed to have a custodial sentence which is why I voted 'guilty' but I don't believe he is an evil man. A stupid decision which has caused hurt needs punishment, but that doesn't make him evil.

Obviously, this male is now facing a substantial prison sentence for the rape. The second jury obviously found him guilty. And so, with this case now hitting the press, the dregs of the general public are now allowed to have their say based on the very little information in the news report: Rapist Caught on DNA After 15 Years.

Que comments like: "Should be shot", "Throw away the key", "Evil". A balanced-minded individual dared to say: "This is not as straightforward as it looks, I agree with the sentence but think that people are overreacting" and was subject to abusive comments as a result. Mob rule: you don't disagree when someone is found guilty by 12 people.

I find this to be such a strange thing; how people can be so narrow- minded, stupid and hate-filled when it comes to something that has no affect on them and when they have so little information. People don't seem to understand that things were so close to being very different. Our group were close to finding the defendant 'not guilty' on more than one occasion. He was a hairs breadth away from freedom because it was such a complicated and difficult case based on evidence from 15 years ago.

If the headline had been: 'Man Walks Free After Being Found Not Guilty of 1995 Rape' there would've either been no comments, or comments of support and words of appraisal at how the judicial system had let an innocent man walk free. That was very almost a reality.

You may wonder why I am making these points when I think the man was guilty of the crime... The reason is that I think he deserved the sentence but I don't think he deserves the hate. People are stupid and it scares me that the decision of what could be only 7 people has initiated such incredibly hateful comments not only towards the defendant but towards anyone daring to defend or even empathise with him. He goes to prison after 15 years -- for an uncertain offence -- leaving a wife and child to deal with such incredible hatred.

I do feel somewhat sorry for him and for the life he now has to lead. But most of all I feel pity for the people who so blindly feel hatred for someone just because a paper and 12 people say he's guilty of a crime. I might've said nothing had it not been the hate they directed towards one person who dared to empathise. One person's balanced logic and empathy should never be punished with comments of such venom.

We all have our rants and our views but we should never, ever, feel hate towards people who oppose our views.

Hats and Drugs.

I like hats. As a shaven-haired individual, hats are not only a necessity for the Wintery weather we get in the UK but also a fashion statement. Plus, as I drive a motorbike, it adds an extra level of comfort to wearing a motorcycle helmet. I also like my hats to tell a kind of story.

 I bloody love hats...

So far I have a hat that was given to me by a friend,  a hat which came free with a magazine, a hat I bought from a festival (the only hat I've ever bought) a hat I found in Cape Town (which previously had belonged to an American who was travelling the world) and a hat I stole from a drug dealer.... At the moment, I like the hat I stole from the drug dealer the most. It carries a message of small come-uppance. It's like a very small, inadequate gesture of defiance towards an individual who doesn't realise what harm he's capable of.

Yes, I'm one of those uncool people who doesn't like drugs. And now I'm going to bore you with the reasons why.

As you may have read from my previous posts, I used to be a police constable. For two years I worked as part of the police and for the best part I enjoyed my job. Those of you who have a Twitter account may have recently followed the Greater Manchester Police (service) as they posted every single call that was made to them online. You will see just from that one day what kind of things the police are involved in and how many time wasters there are out there. You will have also seen a large selection of everyday crimes.

Many of these crimes would not exist, or would be greatly reduced, if drugs were not on our streets.

Pretty much every crime is linked in some way with drugs but that alone is not the reason I dislike them so much. I'm not naive enough to think that drugs are something a minority of the population have tried; drugs are everywhere. Pretty much everyone has tried or actively takes drugs in their life. I'm happy to say that makes me unique as I never have tried drugs and don't intend to. I like to be an exception to the rule, much like I enjoy having different hats with different stories.

Coming back to my hat, I mention that I stole it from a drug dealer (which in itself is a crime and potentially makes me a hypocrite) however it wasn't as straightforward as that. I was at a festival and he'd just finished trying to sell me and my friend some substance which was apparently 'the best experience we could ever hope for; a drug which brings out and enhances a naturally occurring chemical in the body which is only produced when we are born and when we die'. This kind of bullshit didn't wash with me and although I was polite, he realised he wasn't going to get a sale. When security came too close, he fled like a rat and dropped his hat. Which I then acquired.

Anyway, this individual was in all respects a fairly nice guy. He was a student, he was well spoken, in no way was he aggressive and he had a fantastical story which not only confirmed knowledge of his products but also would've made a weak-minded or easily led person consider buying from him. In my mind, this makes him stupid or the worst kind of person: one who preys on the weak to make a profit. It's pretty much the same story with all drug dealers, I'm told how nice and friendly they are but it's really no different from the windows salesmen that pester us so much or the religious fanatics that try to convert us in the streets. They wouldn't be very good salespeople if they weren't nice.

So that being the number one reason, we move on to number two. The argument many people have 'for' drugs and incidentally the one which Parliament is constantly battling over: Drugs are everywhere and not everyone dies from them so why aren't they legalised? More people die from using alcohol each year than die from drugs so surely that makes alcohol more dangerous?

No. Alcohol, whilst not perfect, is used by pretty much everyone. This doesn't make it right, but it means that statistically speaking more people are going to die from alcohol that other drugs because more people drink. Also, alcohol doesn't kill people outright, it is only when someone abuses it that it causes death. That can be abuse by drinking too much or abuse by drinking and then driving or performing another dangerous task. I've not heard a single story of someone having a single drink and then dying.

In my two years in the police there were three incidents of 'sudden death' that occurred in my area alone. 'Sudden death' is the term the police use to describe an incident that happens which costs someone their life but for which there is no immediate and obvious cause. Each of these three times it was down to drug use. This leads me on to reason number three for why I dislike drugs. Using drugs is manipulation of your brain. I think of it sort of like me tweaking the engine of my motorbike so that it's power output far exceeds what it is meant too and then altering the brakes to compensate... then riding it at 200mph without a helmet on. It would be fun and in many respects it's appealing; I could ride it like this a hundred times and not come to any harm or be arrested. But one day, for no discernible reason, my brakes could fail and I die.

Manipulation of the brain is messing with a part of the body which controls respiratory and cardiac functions: the most important jobs our body needs to perform. If you mess with these and increase your heart rate (bearing in mind that your body is used to your heart rate going up under very specific natural circumstances) then sometimes, just sometimes, your heart can give up. It just stops. Often it's not a heart attack, it's just immediate cardiac arrest. You just die, quite often, in your sleep. There is no way of predicting it and no way of stopping it. The drug that the man tried to sell to me is a concern perhaps for a different reason. He stated that it was a chemical which is produced naturally in the body when you are born and when you die and by all accounts he was probably telling the truth. The problem with this is, if you're manipulating your body to produce this chemical outside of those very specific situations, you're messing with your body's awareness of when to produce these chemicals. They are obviously produced to help you cope with two of the most stressful situations that you will ever go through in life and the thought that when you need that very specific natural hit, it might no longer come, is very scary indeed. Messing with the brain is dangerous and leads me on to the final reason for me disliking drugs.

People often say that taking drugs is like opening your mind to another level of reality. For some it's a spiritual journey, for others it is a way for them to interpret their dreams and desires in a very colourful and real way. The bottom line is, it is an escape from reality. There are many ways to escape reality but there is always a danger with escape and that is that you become addicted to it. Whether it be the chemical or the feeling; you become addicted. The reason this is bad is because it is taking you out of awareness and putting you into a level of suggestibility or weakness which can be very dangerous. It is numbing your brain from reality and keeping it numb for a prolonged period. The skittish and paranoid nature of people who have used drugs regularly in their past is undeniable proof of this.

So, who am I to preach such things to everyone in a blog? Who am I to say all this when I've never experienced drugs in the past? Well, I may not have taken drugs before but I challenge anyone who takes or is considering taking drugs to do so after what I have seen. In the police you see the very worst of what drugs can do and in my life I have seen the lesser effects that are still memorable. I joke about drugs, I laugh about the effect they have on people and I pity the people who feel the need to take them because otherwise their life is too boring. My life is exciting enough without me having to resort to such stupidity.

I'm going to give you an insight now into the 'Police' side of drugs and a few little known facts:

1) If you are caught in possession of a drug (any drug) you can be arrested. If its a small amount of cannabis then you may escape arrest with a 'street caution'. This will still have an impact on your life in that you will get a DR (delta romeo) marker against your name and you will be 'known' to the police.

2) If you are arrested, you will get a criminal record which will influence any career checks that are done on you in future life. Banks also have access to this information so loans for business purposes can be declined.

3) A DR marker means that if you are arrested for anything in the future (even something that is not your fault or something petty) you will be subjected to a full strip and/or cavity search. That alone should be enough to dissuade you.

4) If you are in a house or car where people are taking drugs or where drugs are present and the police search the premises/vehicle or come into the property, anyone in the premises/vehicle at that time will be arrested on suspicion of dealing. It is far easier for the police to arrest everyone and sort out the guilty parties later than risk letting anyone go. Even if you are not charged you will probably still spend the night in custody.

5) If you are caught with enough drugs to warrant arrest for 'intent to supply' then you will almost certainly face a custodial sentence.

6) If there is a death in custody, every single police officer who is in the custody block at that time will be suspended from work whilst an investigation takes place into the death. For the arresting officers, this can mean months off work at a reduced wage.

I think everyone should be made aware of the above facts.

Family Guy's Peter Griffin Learns the Basics of Cavity Searches...

As a final point, there is a certain situation where I will respect drug users: If they understand all of the above, if they have seen what drugs can do and yet still choose to take them. That would be a true lifestyle choice and the acceptance of the consequences in continuing with that lifestyle, whilst stupid, is admirable. I have never met anyone who feels like this.

I used to work with a girl who regularly took pills with her friends every week. They went out, drank very little alcohol, drank lots of water and had an amazing time (so I'm told). She vehemently defended drugs as it was 'her choice' and she 'understood the risks' and chose to include it as part of her lifestyle. I actually admired her for that. For a while...

Two years later I saw her and got chatting. During the course of the conversation I asked her if she still 'raved' which, in essence, was asking her if she was still taking pills. At this point she went quiet and said "No, we no longer do it any more." I asked her why and she explained, in quite a subdued fashion, that one of her friends had died the year before after taking some pills. They don't know if the pills were mixed with something else or if it was a straight OD but it happened and that caused everyone in that group to wake up to reality. It took one of their friends to die for them to stop their stupidity and live in the real world. I lost all respect for her and lost touch with her after that.

Had she continued, despite what had happened to her friend, my respect for her would've been far greater. Obviously, I'm a nobody and it's not like people aspire to earn my respect. But if you're going to argue for drugs and do them regardless of how may people love and care about you: knowing the hurt you could cause them, then you better well have a damn good explanation or you could lose everyone.

I'll just stick to my 'boring' life and my hats.



PS: I realise at this point people may reference a previous post where I included a clip of Bill Hicks, a favourite comedian of mine and true defender of drugs. Just because I like his jokes doesn't mean that I agree with his lifestyle. He was a saint of comedy but he was no saint in real life. Doing 'bad' things like drugs will make you funny and cool in the eyes of other people and doesn't make you a 'bad' person but it does cause hurt. I'm sure Bill's parents would agree on that point as noted in interviews with them following their son's death.

"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.