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| Jailhouse Sheriff's deputies walk past cells on the 3000 floor of the L.A. County Men's Central Jail in downtown, housing 19,000 detainees and inmates (Jay L. Clendenin/LA Times) |
Police (Sheriff's deputies) eager to commit felonious assault with great bodily injury to create climate of terror and oppression for all awaiting their day in court. Innocent until proven guilty is reversed in this upside down world of darkness, the rotting -pool nestled in the center of the City of Lights.
One officer recently pleaded guilty to assembling an automatic weapon for private off-duty use, and 19 or so are up on felony charges of conspiracy and impeding an investigation... -- because the worst thing one can do in jail is fink on another. This is not the lore of prisoners, it is the active mantra of the jailers. To tell on them and expose their crimes means the full weight of the Force will be brought down on you to silence you and continue their illegal behavior. Exposure might stop the police brutality, homosexual officer-on-prisoner rapes, and unwarranted murders of prisoner (framed to look as if they committed suicide or were killed by other inmates, when more often than not a simple form of killing an inmate is by exposing him to great danger by placing him defenseless in closed quarters with deadly inmates and then saying it was "just one of those things" that happens in jail).
No one wants to hear about it. None of us wants to believe police of all people commit the most heinous crimes under color of uniform sanctioned by the state and all of complicit by our silence, police revenge killings, deputy sexual assaults, predatory-police and sociopathic-jailer torture. And so it continues.
Accused criminals are blamed. They must be "causing" good, wholesome officers to behave this way. The Stanford Prison Experiment tells us that the social context contributes a great deal, but who becomes a police officer, a jailer, a punishment-meting patrolman (most are men)? The average person doesn't. Troubled, thrill seeking misfits do, as do many damaged people back from war, who enjoy wearing uniforms, vastly outgunning "enemies," and acting with impunity.
Breaking the Law? "There I was completely wasting, out of work and down/ All inside it's so frustrating as I drift from town to town/ Feel as though nobody cares if I live or die/ So I might as well begin to put some action in my life!/
CHORUS: Breaking the law, breaking the law.../ So much for the golden future, I can't even start/ I've had every promise broken, there's anger in my heart/ You don't know what it's like, you don't have a clue/ If you did, you'd find yourselves doing the same thing, too!/ CHORUS/ You don't know what it's like!" (Judas Priest/Rob Halford).
(Judas Priest) These were to good ol' days when a British rock band led by a closeted gay singer dressed extravagantly in leather and chains could sing staccato of "breaking the law."
Jail deputy told FBI agent of "unwritten rule" on fights with inmates
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| Cop vs. cop, FBI vs. Sheriff's deputies |
On top of the many protocols and regulations he learned in training, Los Angeles County Sheriff's Deputy William David Courson was taught one "unwritten rule": If an inmate fights with a deputy, that inmate ends up at the hospital [or the morgue].
He learned the rule at a jail operations training session led by a sergeant and two deputies in a classroom full of about 50 deputies, Courson testified Wednesday [June 4, 2014]. Courson, who has worked at Men's Central Jail since graduating from the academy in early 2008, described [police] violence and [police] coverups among jail guards at the federal trial of six sheriff's officials on charges of obstruction of justice.
The "unwritten rule" was among the things Courson told [a female] FBI agent investigating the jails. He had asked the agent out on dates after seeing her at the jail facility. Over meals at a taco joint and a breakfast cafe, he talked to her about the jail's culture and specific incidents -- not realizing that all the while, she was wearing a wire and recording him as a potential target in the investigation into excessive force and corruption in the sheriff-run jails.
(6FU) Fast forward a few decades, and it's now the bad new days, as Florida Bigoot/yakkha/skunkape Chris Barnes growls "No Warning Shots," Six Feet Under, "Maximum Violence."
Courson said that during pill call one night not long after he started working at the jails, he saw a deputy come up from behind an inmate and start a fight. That same day, a senior deputy came up to him and asked him what he saw.
"I asked him what did he want to hear," Courson said. The senior deputy responded: "Say you were upstairs running the showers," he recalled the senior deputy saying.
None of the five [police] men and one woman on trial are accused of civil rights violations or excessive force [felonies they committed and commit on a routine basis]; they faces charges of attempting to impede the investigation by hiding a federal informant and threatening the case agent with arrest...
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"No Warning Shot"
Lyrics by Chris Barnes
,+Vientiane,+Laos+by+Ianh3000+on+Flickr.jpg) |
| Vientiane, Laos (Ianh3000) |
"Die, die!/ The end of all law/ Four shots fired, another body falls/ I execute the guilty, violently/ Undercover killing spree, no warning shot// CHORUS: Die, [mister], die, die/ Die, [mister], die, die!/ Die, [mister], die, die! / I'll put a bullet between your [blooming] eyes// Pull the trigger, cock the hammer back/ Fifth shot to the back of your neck/ You're not a threat, you're a [blooming] disease/ Eradicate the enemy/ Dead body, another crime scene/ Blood-stained pavement, chalk outline/ Bullet holes, you're dead and cold/ The end of all law, no warning shot// CHORUS// I put the gun to the side of your head/ Squeezing the trigger/ Powder burnt skin, breaking through cranial bone/ Decayed brain tissue implodes/ Just another life that you thought you could control/ Just another pig, dead, with some extra holes/ You better think again, before I kill again/ You won't survive, when the bullets start to fly/ Protect and serve yourself/ Dug your own grave, now rot/ In that hole decay/ The murder will never stop, no warning shot// CHORUS
