Bloody Killer Liberal Biscuits

I've been told that I do go on a bit, so here's a quickie.

I met up with an old friend the other day, back from when I was a more or less full-blooded libertarian, but still one with the penchant for throwing criminals into the (privatized) slammer for violence and vandalism.

The very first thing that he said after I bewailed the state of the country was that people of inflexible principles (I had been pretty doctrinaire back in the day) believed that if our chosen cure wasn’t working, then the only course was to do more of it. Apparently we think that way. Maybe it’s the only language we understand?

It’s the uber-liberal reflex on discussing crime. Punishment’s baaaad, M’kay?

They wheel it up front and centre, every time.

It’s followed by: ‘This has nothing to do with Islam,’ but it’s a distant second.

By a hilarious coincidence the wing mirror of my car parked right in front of the house was ripped from its mounting for the eleventh time in six years last night. It’s okay, though, as it clipped right back on, and I’ve only had to replace it or it offside twin four times due to actual loss or destruction, at the paltry cost of £80 or so, so it’s no biggie.

I gave up reporting this low-grade crime pattern after attack number seven, when the rather pretty local PCSO I’d told about it the day before walked past in the rain and made some humourous quip to me in that familiar and beloved comedy genre of woman-watching-man-doing-something-technical-and-unpleasant-on-his-bloody-day-off as I crouched: soaked, screwdriver and spanner in hand.

Over six years I’ve been issued with seven comforting and authoritative crime report numbers, and one actual copper visited and he advised us to install CCTV (though I’d like to have been told in advance what happens in court to middle-aged men who make secret video recordings of teenagers), and one very wholesome SOCO who came to fingerprint the mirror and car on a Saturday lunchtime. Maybe she had some budget left for the month, or a target to hit. Or a sense of duty.

What do these harmless scallywags go on to after their low-grade vandalism goes unpunished for years?

Aw, gee, shucks. I don’t know.

Hmm. Is it possible to define Punishment Is Bad as an inflexible principle?

Beats me.

Mind how you go.