In Texas, where I grew up, the bollocks we’re seeing in the UK right now would have lasted maybe five, possibly ten minutes max, before a private citizen, business owner, or Sheriff Dudley Paunch Gut of the Muleshoe PD woulda put a hollow point in some skinny hooligan’s backside. It would have been the shortest-lived revolt in modern history. Next!
Matter of fact, when I was a “working class youth” back in the day I was too damn tired to spark a rebellion after a hard day’s toil in the hot Lone Star sun.
For instance, back in 1981 when the cops shot one of my criminal buddies for being, well, a criminal, I was too exhausted after a day’s labor to torch my innocent neighbor’s house, bomb a school bus, crap on my front porch, make a black dude strip naked and give me his clothes, or steal televisions. I was too pooped to vandalize—I mean, fight against my oppressors.
The most I could do after ten hours of busting my butt and not relying on the government for jack squat was eat a sausage and mushroom pizza, drink a couple of Coors, make out with my girlfriend, watch MTV and say, “Wow … it sure sucks that Ronny got shot. I’d hate to be him right now. Now, where were we, honey?” Call me lazy.
Another thing that kept me from acting like a complete and utter destructive douche bag in light of my criminal buddy taking a bullet for being a violent lawbreaker was the fact that I liked my neighbors, my neighborhood, the surrounding retail shops and America in general and did not wish for them to be trashed like Amy Winehouse’s liver.
Britain’s “working class youth”? Don’t you have to “work” to be “working class”? It doesn’t look like socialism panned out the way they promised you, eh? Shocker.
Word to the BBC: How about we call these “working class youths” something more like “non-working, government-sponging entitlement mooks”? How’s that? I think that’s probably a better name for these bellicose nabobs on the government dole. Perhaps the nomenclature is too long? Oh well. That’s not my topic anyhoo, so I’ll go back to the police who can’t police because they have no firepower.
I remember back in 2001 when I was speaking at Imperial College in London, my smarmy host told me one day as we were tooling around Trafalgar Square that their police force does not carry guns. Being acquainted with human nature and being a rube from Texas I said, “Your cops don’t carry guns? Are you kidding me?”
I went on to tell my genteel, self-congratulatory guide that such a plan sounds “nice and sweet, so very evolved and not like us gun-toting American clowns.” But I bet him that one day they would regret that decision when one or more of their Darwinian holdover mooches goes nuts and turns their sweet little city centre into a Rob Zombie flick.
And that day is now. Welcome to hell, England.
Hey, UK: Would you like to see an end to this mayhem? You would? Then do the following: Allow your Bobbies and your law-abiding citizens to pack heat. Yep, guns in the hands of law enforcement and law-abiding peeps would quell this crap quicker than a chimichanga dipped in motor oil would zip through your sensitive pâté-addled digestive system.
Doug Giles
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