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Milo Nickels
Once my anxiety subsided, and I realized that I had safely gotten away with driving past a cop, I immediately became angry that I had to feel anxious in the first place. It makes me sick that the people who are supposed to be protecting and serving us, funded by our tax money, are lining themselves up along roadsides to extract more money from us. Police couldn’t care less about biting the hand that feeds them — it’s not like we can refuse to pay them because we don’t like how they operate. They’ve become cash registers with badges (and guns) — a puzzling combination of mafia henchmen, vampires, boy scouts, and the fat kid in high school who thought he was cool because he played football.
Ode to traffic cops by Milo Nickels Cop with a radar gun hidden from view not hunting for bad guys, but gunning for you. They demand your licenses, and your registrations. They aren’t there to protect, but to serve you citations. They won’t come if you’re robbed; They’ve stopped fighting crime. But, if your headlight is out, you’ll get stopped every time. There once was a time when police were respected, when they defended our rights, and we felt protected. But, how do you feel now, when you drive past a cop? do you feel safe and sound, or fear you’ll be stopped? Investigator, officer, detective, inspector. You’re no longer a hero, but a levy collector. You ignore the constitution and the oath that you swore. The state is a pimp, and you are its whore. -MN |
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