11.28.2007

I was raped with barbed wire and 2 X 4!!!

It was 1:00am and I had to have a candy bar. No big deal. I hopped into my trusty ford pickup and drove down to my local 7-11 to buy one. When I got within one block of the store I noticed that there was either a really big donut sale going on behind me, or I was being pulled over by a police officer. Well, you can bet your Krispy Kremes that I was getting pulled over.

The officer came up to my window, which was convenient, and told me he had pulled me over because I was driving without a working license plate light. I thanked him and told him I would purchase a replacement bulb at the 7-11, or at the Cheveron station located directly across the street.

That wasnt going to be good enough. You see, it was impossible to tell just how many good and law abiding citizens had driven right off of the road, or off of a 1000 foot cliff, for that matter, because they were trying with all G-d gave em, to see what my license plate number was. I wondered how I had become so very callous over the years, but I have to confess I didnt care and I thought (and still do) that the best thing would have been if the officer had just told me that license plate lights are required and I needed get mine fixed immediately. It wasnt going to be that easy not on this night.

So, the officer takes my drivers license, my proof of insurance, and my title and registration and goes back to his car for the next hour. That is how long it takes to check a person out with the modern day miracle of computer science that is now in place in every police car across this great land of ours. OK, sometimes it will take an hour and a half like, when its raining. After an hour, as I said, the officer comes back to my window, which was convenient, and says he is sorry, but he wasnt able to confirm or deny that I had valid insurance because it was now 2:00am in the morning. I felt very bad for him, but I meekly suggested that the proof of insurance document that I had provided might be enough for him to assume that I had the required protection for those poor souls who had strained their beady little eyes trying to get my plate number.

No, says the boy in blue. He would just feel a lot better if he could talk to a warm body at the insurance provider who could let him rest assured that I was not a slacker and had paid my share of the state sponsored corporate terror ransom that is now mandatory in my state to maintain ones driving privileges. The officer felt that the best thing to do was to give me a whopping huge ticket for an amount equal to probably three times the amount of money he normally accepts as a common bribe especially due to all of the people who had died while squinting to see my plate in the murky dark and desolate gloom of the night. And damn my ever loving soul all to H.E. double hockey sticks for not correcting the matter sooner. By some fluke, he mistakenly ended up keeping my title and my insurance documentation worthless as it was, and it was worthless indeed.

Then, of course, he tells me that I am not allowed to drive my truck home. He gives me the choice of either starting out walking back to my house so he can be sure that I wont drive it, or he can be so kind as to have it towed to a most distant tow yard he can find at a cost of roughly half the amount he normally charges a hooker to take fake mug shots of her left ankle. So, I start to walking: Grateful that I had managed to find the one last cop with compassion left on the face of the planet. Can you even imagine my joy? It is hard, I know. He ended up sending yet another officer over to my house at 5:00am with my title, but without my insurance document. I guess the whole ordeal he went through with me earlier had just made him plum tuckered out.

As if my cornucopia of love that night wasnt enough, I immediately began looking forward to pleading not guilty and getting to have my day, rather, my 8.5 minutes, in front of the presiding magistrate. You are beginning to feel the love, arent you?

The day of my reckoning finally arrived today. I sprang from my restful slumber ready to prove my innocence and confident that I would prevail to uphold the beacon of justice for all to see. I entered the court with a spring in my step, obviously left over from earlier, when I sprang from my slumber, and armed with a bounty of supporting evidence and a chipper demeanor. The cop was there and his badge was very shiny. I was impressed by the shinyness of it. Indeed. The judge was late, but that was OK, because even though the officer was getting paid overtime, and I had taken time away from that feeble position I occupy in the workforce striving to come up with the funds to cover all of the blood sucking requirements of a lower than dirt resident of his divine majestys noble realm, the judge can do anything without regard for anything, anytime, and any way he wants, for he answers to no one. Oh, sure, he does within the bounds of common legal theory, but Im dealing with a bold example of reality here and Id appreciate it if you would too, my dear reader.

Anyway, where was I? Shiny badge; late judge; chipper demeanor, OK, lets move ahead. The judge comes in, introduces himself, says, Hello, to the officer and swears us in. Now we all could be sure that we were telling the G-ds honest truth, which took a load off of my mind. The officer gave a rundown of what had happened that night which was a little different from how I had remembered those twilight moments. He didnt say anything about keeping my insurance documents. He implied that I didnt have any documents at all. He did allude to the horrific ends that would have befallen any individual that had tried to read my license plate, and nearly demanded that I lick his jack booted foot in gratitude for him not having given me a citation for letting that light go unattended. It is hard to carry that shame, though carry it I must. It was difficult to look the judge in the face with such overwhelming guilt weighing upon my sullied soul, but I did.

When it came time for me to give my account of the events that night, I began by saying for the record how much I appreciated the officers professionalism that night, and I thanked him for not towing my truck. Then, I looked the judge square in the eye and told him that on the night in question, I had been covered by insurance and I had provided the officer with my documentation which he had forgotten to return to me even though he had returned my title when I called and asked him to do so. I then whipped out my wallet with style and flair (picture it, it was a beautiful thing) and without missing a hip-hop beat, I produced a card that had been sent to me by my insurance agent which clearly stated that its intended purpose was to be used as proof of insurance in case I was asked to prove that I was covered. I respectfully gave this little trump to the judge and quickly lowered my eyes so that he might not see the trademark twinkle they get when I am undeniably right without question.

I had done it. I had really, really done it. The eyebrow of the supreme decider of all things right and just throughout the land went up like the tail of a warthog being chased by a famished cheetah in heat. He carefully perused the affronting little offender, then lifted his gaze to examine the crass and garish big offender who had dared to reveal its unyielding truth in the light of open court me. Veins began to swell with the anger and hatred of all hells minions as the bile that was about to be propelled onto me began to muster from deep within the bowels of this unquestionable icon of all things good and fair. Then, with a calm and velvet tone you might expect from the Pope, the judge told me that the insurance card I had offered up as evidence had everything required to be admissible as proof of insurance, except for the expiration date of the policy. Furthermore, I had not offered it to the officer at the time of the citation and, therefore, even if he had been inclined to extend me the courtesy of a meager benefit of his doubt, he could not do so, nay, would not do so, as I had not given it to the officer on the night in question.

A drop of saliva glistened from the left fang of the officer just before dripping onto his ever shiny badge. I was about to become his morning snack. But I had anticipated just such a catastrophe and prepared accordingly. With all due respect, I offered the judge an 800 number that could be dialed 24 hours a day, seven days per week, and, in a fleeting blink of a gnats eye, used to verify my insured status on that given date. I then went on to provide the judge with undeniable evidence of how seriously I take my driving privileges. I threw out copies of not one, but two separate policies, underwritten by two separate national insurance providers, in my name. It made me the absolute most insured driver and safe driving risk that had been drug through the mud past this judge in, oh, Id say forever.

The judge looked at the documents; looked at me; looked back at the documents; looked at the officer; slowly lowered the papers; chuckled; looked at me, and said (read this like the guy who narrated the Grinch that stole Christmas)

You little worm. You know that I am a spasmodic sphincter sucking abomination of a soul that has been encapsulated in pasty white sputum soaked human-like flesh. Did you really suppose with that feeble gob of mush you call a brain that you could bargain your ability to drive and survive in this society with me?

I swear as G-d is my witness that he said that very phrase. But when it came out, the other people in the courtroom heard something that sounded more like this

You didnt provide this card to the officer on the night you were cited. It wouldnt have mattered much since the expiration date is not present on the face of this instrument. Im inclined to believe that you did not have insurance on that date.

That is why Ive come today with the toll free number I have given you to confirm the validity of my sworn statement, said me, my own self.

Well, Son. This is a court of law. Were not in the business of helping to validate your evidence. Im going to go ahead and cut your fine by $82.00 and you can pay the balance of $743.00 to my clerk. Thanks for coming in today.

I said, Your Honor, I dont exactly understand. The officer kept my documentation, and I have provided alternative documentation and the means to validate the entire question beyond any speculation. Not only that, but the officer never gave any evidence that I wasnt insured, he simply gave evidence that he was not able to confirm or deny my insured status at the time he pulled me over. If I am to be presumed innocent until proven guilty, and in the absence of contrary evidence, shouldnt you be more inclined to accept my sworn statement that I was insured as being the truth?

The judge didnt even pause before shooting back, I would be happy to make you the first person of the day who I fine and put in jail for contempt. Is that what you are trying to ask me for?

And with that the whole thing came to a screeching halt. I never had a chance. Dont kid yourself into thinking that you do either. You dont. If you dont know this already, rest assured that before too long you will be dealt with on some level by the same unyielding, unseeing, unhearing, and uncaring hand of unbalanced justice that I just experienced. Mark my words. 1 in every 136 Americans is in jail or prison. If I lined you up against a wall with 136 other friends, family, neighbors, colleagues, and a yutz named Bob, and I told you that one of you was about to be shot, go to prison, or just get wiped out financially, how would you feel? Just because you cant feel the cold hard reality of the bricks against your back doesnt mean the firing squad isnt ready, aiming, and about to fire. Trust me. Or, trust the power happy egocentric overlords of ignorance who weve charged with the responsibility of handing one of our most precious instruments of true freedom: Justice. Theyve raped it, tortured it, made a mockery of it, and substituted the most abhorrent vile form of an insult in its stead. American justice has become nothing more than a rubber stamping process that is as far removed from the concept of fairness, equality, and just remedy, as an amoeba is from an integrated circuit. There is no relationship between the two. None. It is an insult to imply that justice even exists within the walls of any court, or government office in this country. Get pissed. For your own sake. For the sake of those you love. Do it now while you can make a difference. Get pissed or be afraid very afraid. Or kid yourself into thinking that you are on the side of justice. Then ask not for whom the bell tolls. It tolls for thee.

How much did you pay for your gas today? How does that barbed wire feel?

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