PROZAC'S

CRIME AND PUNISHMENT!!
DON'T MAKE ME LAUGH


Imagine the following:

You're on your own, in your own house, asleep. A noise downstairs wakes you up. You wonder, half in hope, whether it was your imagination. Then it happens again. Someone is definitely in your property. You know your own house, so you know that no one could have simply wandered in uninvited! In fact, you take great precautions in securing all windows, doors and every other conceivable access.
Someone, you conclude, has gone to a lot of trouble to get in.
You decide to risk having a look.

If there is someone in, you'll need to get to the phone and call the police to help.
You feel frightened, obviously, but all the statistics and received wisdom from the government prove that burglars are more frightened than the householders whose premises they are invading and will quickly run away if they hear the householder moving about.
You know these facts because you've read them in government literature. They were next to the facts proving that there are no poor people in Britain.
You move slowly and cautiously out of your bedroom and head towards the telephone.
Before you can do anything a figure on the stairs looms into view.

You're trapped - not knowing what could happen next. All you're conscious of is the terror you're feeling.
All of your possessions and valuables suddenly acquire nil worth.
Though you're voice is barely audible because of the shaking of your body, and your dry throat, you manage to speak: "Just take anything you want and go - I've called the police, they're on their way!"
Instead of running away, frightened, the figure on the stairs is joined by another figure. And another.
They advance on you.
You try to run back into the bedroom and lock the door while they 'take what they want' and go.
They have other ideas. They break through the door and set about beating you, kicking you, stamping on you. Even when you're down. You're no possible threat to them - you haven't been since you first woke up and heard the noises!

They carry on hitting, kicking, using fists, feet, knees, elbows, pieces of wood, metal bars and bricks they'd brought with them - anything they can lay their hands on - to batter you.
All you're conscious of are thuds, being jerked violently from one position to another by the force of the assault, and flashes of light as your eyes and brain are unnaturally stimulated by the violent concussions.

You'd decided, against your better judgement you now realise, not to take the shotgun you had in your possession with you when you ventured out of the bedroom. After all, it's illegal, isn't it, to threaten people. Through the barrage of kicks and blows, you try to orientate yourself and find it.
You'd had faith in the law, the justice system, the police. You'd believed the government figures and statistics. You'd never done anything to anyone.

The coroner at your inquest won't know these facts, of course.
Your death will be interpreted as a citizen trying to challenge some burglars and taking the law into his own hands - with tragic consequences.

You're name is Tony Martin.

What other choices did you have?

You're a fool, you now believe.

You could have installed a phone in the bedroom and called the police from there, hoping they would arrive in time to scare the burglars off; maybe even stop and catch them.

You could have moved from the place where you were born and grew up; moved and spent a fortune looking for another place, far from family and friends; moved and been poor for a while as you looked for another way to support yourself.

You could have exited your own house by the window, instead of foolishly going through your own bedroom door and facing them; left your own house and everything you own and let them have it all.

You could have sold everything of worth and lived in absolute poverty and squalor, so the burglars would have nothing to target you for. What were you thinking of, working hard all your life and spending it on your own house and possessions and food and necessities?

You could have made it easier for them to break in. Maybe they wouldn't have been in such an angry mood and murdered you.

What a fool you are.

The last thing you should have done is to be so frightened that you took any kind of weapon out of your own bedroom and antagonise someone in your own house with it.

What were you thinking of?

After all - you did have choices!!

(Tony Martin was convicted, by a justice system that goes out of its way to help scumbags, for shooting a low life piece of scum. The scumbag was in a place where it shouldn't have been and has since become infamous - solely for the fact that it happened to be young. Simple facts are - if scumbags stay out of people's houses, they won't get hurt. I think even a lobotomised earthworm could learn that one. Crime goes on, so go figure a scumbag's average IQ! If anyone thinks Tony Martin should be freed, write to your MP today. A scumbag's head - together we'll crack it!)

(The following is commonplace. That's what's worrying.)

DEDICATED TO LAW AND JUSTICE
(NEVER THE TWAIN SHALL MEET)


A few weeks ago, a few miles from where I live, a woman, living on her own, disturbed some people in her house, in the middle of the night.
She was 87 years old and, like Tony Martin in the above piece, was no threat to the burglars.

She asked them to leave her alone. Not a demanding plea, one would have thought. After all, she could hardly overpower them and hand them over to the police.
No! She probably annoyed them by asking for a second favour.
She asked them to take what they wanted and go.
They decided her provocative attitude needed a short, sharp shock. This would probably teach her to be more civil to the next group of hard-working, self-employed entrepreneurs to visit.

They battered her.

There were three of them, aged, 14, 15 and 16, so they felt reasonably confident they could take her.
It was a tough, long, drawn out battle. But, they triumphed.
They gave her a lesson she wouldn't forget in a hurry.
They victored without a scratch.

She had severe bruising all over her body, broken ribs, a fractured skull and two severed fingers. For good measure - a clever ploy to stop her recognising them - they blinded her.

She was extremely lucky.

Lucky that she hadn't heard them sooner and called the police and had to fill out all those forms.

Lucky that she hadn't called the police, had the burglars arrested and then had to go to court to identify them and have her address read out for all of the burglars' friends to remember and plot to pay her back.

Lucky that she didn't have to hear and know their names, as, if she'd slipped up and named them, she could have been considered in contempt of court and jailed, because their names were protected 'for legal reasons'.

Lucky that she hadn't dared to have any kind of weapon in her own home.

Lucky that, if she had, she hadn't dared to use it.

A very lucky woman, indeed.

Just think of the trouble she could have got herself into. Some people never learn.

POSTSCRIPT:
Just before Christmas the lady above died. The powers that be have declared that they are uncertain whether to charge the little bastards who murdered her with murder because, "...it can't be certain, or proven, that the attack led to her death...".
I'll let the best people to judge that make their own decision. Won't you?

 

PROZAC is not too bothered who he offends. If it means that someone sits up, takes notice and actually does something to rid the country (preferably the world) of scumbags, do-gooders, social workers and bleeding-heart liberal-minded politicians, he'll go for it.
If you disagree with any of his comments - tough shit.

 

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