Holy latitudes, Batman, it’s sunshiny and sixty-something out there. T-shirt weather, and Small Dog has just met his local dog friends on the dog walk.
One wonders if they see us shaking hands and think, “Shaking paws is how humans sniff ass, I guess. Gross.”
The Philadelphia Story, 2017
Neighbor’s daughter is student teaching in Philadelphia, out to Save The World. It’s springtime there, too, and she’s walking down the street, replying to a text — her world and perceptual field narrowed to a glowing rectangle — and comes a probable truant from her school, scooting by on a bike, and deftly plucks the iPhone 7 out of her hand.
She waited to see it get turned on with Find My iPhone, but that doesn’t work, any more; the Asset Redistribution Technicians of the inner city are on to it, and her phone has already been wiped and fenced and, probably, resold.
Or given to a family member. Your baby sister deserves someone else’s iPhone for her Obamaphone service, not the crappy phones they give you for “free.” Hell, she thought he was about 14, so his baby mamma deserves someone else’s iPhone.
The police don’t care; a stolen phone, are you kidding? Do you know what their backlog looks like? Homicides are up 22% year-to-date. There have been 2,500 violent crimes reported this year, of which few have been closed. Who’s the thief? That general description also fits a bunch of agg assault and murder suspects who are at large, so they’re not sweating a phone thief. Hang up, lady; call us back when he kills you. (She knows this; she probably didn’t bother reporting the theft).
Apple doesn’t care; even though they could brick the phone, they won’t — she’s already bought a new iPhone, so theft is a plus for them. Besides, they’re all SJWs there, and Black Lives Matter, and the only reason a white person has something is because they looted it from slaves, which is why inner-city blacks who are too truculent to stay in school and too lazy to show up at jobs (unlike their competition for illiterate-laborer gigs, criminaliens) are Entitled to Whitey’s $#!+ — something they seem to believe with a fervor a preacher reserves for his Bible.
Her wireless carrier doesn’t care; even though they could brick the phone, they won’t. They may get a new subscriber out of this! So they, too, are in cahoots with burglars and strongarm thieves. That’s their contribution to Social Justice.
In four or five years, when today’s telephone thief has a record that takes multiple pages on a cop-car criminal (and three times as many crimes, at least, for which he was never arrested or charged), he’ll get his gizzard perforated by a cop, and The Community and The Reverends will turn out with pictures from when he was nine years old and demand the cop be punished.
And by then, he probably will be, even though logically it’s like punishing a doctor for curing an infection. Bacterial Lives Matter!
But here in the ‘Shire, we’re spared most of the pathologies of inner cities, except when our residents import their Massachusetts ganged-up drug dealers when our residents are importing their stupidmaking substance du jour.
Hell, you don’t need drugs, to turn on, tune in, and drop out. Look at all the undead around you, shuffling along with their glowing rectangles.