Tim Walker’s Tarnished Copper

It seems counterproductive that New Zealand’s authority figures are bound by law to treat offending dick-wads with a similar level of courtesy they’re expected to show their grandmothers at Sunday brunch.

Breach of human rights; police brutality; inhumane practices; mistreatment of suspect; excessive use of police dog; abuse of authority; abuse of power; abuse of weapons; abuse of douche-bag-who-thinks-it’s-his-God-given-right-to-desecrate-another-person’s-property-because-that’s-how-the-streets-raised-him-and-he-doesn’t-know-any-better…

These are terms that idiots who know they’re in the wrong but feel that with just the right amount of idiot self-righteousness they can still make it out on top, like to spout with idiot tones of undeserved entitlement and unwarranted grandiose in an idiot effort to mitigate the idiot consequences of their idiotic actions.

Truth is, if I were a police officer tasked with the apprehension of a pack of illiterate, ill-mannered reprobates with no greater desire in their feeble lives than to make nuisances of themselves by showing irreverence and belligerence towards anyone who tries to direct them down a path with even the slightest semblance of meaning, I would not hesitate to beat the shit out of them.

Yet NZ police officers don’t do that. NZ police officers exhibit restraint. NZ police officers show discipline. NZ police officers, beholden to act according to an ill-conceived, restricting and largely ridiculous list of regulations, do their very best to uphold our law.

Here’s the thing about that. The average law-breaking shit-head has no rules or regulations to hold them back, it’s only the poor sucker trying to reinstate order who does. Yet even after everything, even after the offender has done his darnedest to evade capture, even after he has lead a team of officers on a five kilometre jaunt across town, even after he has been finally dragged down, even after he has managed to break the nose of the apprehending officer, even after writhing and thrashing his way to freedom for a second time, even after requiring ten men to once more pin him down, even after scratching skin from every face within reach; even then, if the police so much as contuse this piece of shit, it is within the offender’s rights to complain to a higher authority, to have the situation reviewed, to cause a spectacular uproar within the media, also among the public and subsequently the entire bloody police force; then the real shit of it, it is totally within the rights of the accused, if they feel hard done by, if they feel as though their offending has resulted in anything less than their complete bloody gain, to do whatever they can do to precipitate the loss of rank or position of any one of these upstanding figures.

Hardly seems fair does it?

Take a West Auckland street party – that is, a party which began indoors but due to excess numbers on account of someone’s invitation contracting a virus, was unable to be contained by four walls. Obviously neighbours are unsettled. In fact to many, these are the two most unsettling words in the New Zealand vocabulary: alcohol, youths. Therefore police are called. Of course the aforementioned rapscallions maintain that everything was always under control; the police will maintain a decidedly different perspective. The rapscallions claim that everything was fine until the fuzz stepped in hoping to stem the torrent of vomit; the police will be proceeding with the understanding that if they don’t control the current level of revelry, it will soon become uncontrollable. The rapscallions reckon that in the process of controlling the situation police mistreated them and in doing so, stripped them of their basic human rights…

Police will have been doing their best to act according to law, or as much as one can do while being chastised, berated, castigated, excoriated, expectorated and fustigated – yet a week later their actions are under investigation.

Funny how no one ever feels the need to investigate the actions of a dick-headed rabble of drunken youths.

Like anyone I have had my problems with police. It could even be asserted that I don’t much care for their presence. That said, even I can appreciate the magnitude of shit these people endure – shit they endure for people like you and me.

Given all that, I reckon they do alright.



Article by Tim Walker

Edited by Clancy Wiggum

Photography by Eddie N Lew



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