2aguy
Diamond Member
- Jul 19, 2014
- 111,965
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A nice essay on what it is like being a criminal in democrat party controlled cities...
I am a criminal. Nice to meet you. I am 21 years old, right at the peak of my criminal power. I live in a big city. I have been to juvenile placement, county jail, and state prison. Let me tell you what I think about today’s criminal-justice system.
Before we go any further, please disabuse yourself of the notion that I am dumb. I watch, listen, and learn from what happens around me. In some ways, I’m probably smarter than you. I bought three kilograms of cocaine for $93,000 last week. Quick: tell me how many quarter pounds, ounces, and eight-balls I have, and what should I sell each amount for if I need to make $250,000. I did that in my head while you were reaching for a calculator.
In today’s world, I take what I want. If I like the latest pair of Nike sneakers, I walk into a store, pick up the box, and walk out. Same goes for clothes, video games, and electronics. Nobody will stop me. The stores and police know that shoplifting is not prosecuted anymore in my city. The security guards at the store might try to stop somebody from walking out with 50 pairs of shoes, but it’s not worth the hassle of stopping somebody for one pair. When I was younger, boosting stuff took skill and effort. Not now—anybody can do it.
How do I make money? As you probably guessed from the math problem above, I sell drugs. I have a crew of guys that I grew up with. We all live in the same neighborhood. Are we a gang? We aren’t the Sinaloa cartel or the Crips, but the police consider us to be one. We work together to sell drugs, look out for each other against other crews, and control a few blocks. We sell cocaine, heroin, and crystal methamphetamine. We cut it with everything from baking soda to fentanyl. We give customers what they want.
The media and academics call us “nonviolent drug offenders,” but a nonviolent drug dealer is like a kindergarten teacher who doesn’t like kids: out of work. We sit on highly valuable merchandise and stacks of cash; of course, we carry guns. We are always at risk of being robbed, of what business people would call “hostile takeovers.” Since we can’t go to the police and complain, we’re as violent as we need to be to protect our business and our territory. Sometimes that requires merely the threat of violence, sometimes more.
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Our district attorney doesn’t believe in drug investigations, so nobody bothers us. Most of the crime in my city is related to drugs: homicides, shootings, robberies, burglaries, etc. If you don’t do drug investigations and prosecutions, you’ll never know what’s going on with these other crimes. When the police chase us, we take off in cars or on foot. Those types of chases are contrary to police policy now, per the district attorney, which works for me. If somebody does get arrested, we are out on bail the same day and right back on the job.
www.city-journal.org
I am a criminal. Nice to meet you. I am 21 years old, right at the peak of my criminal power. I live in a big city. I have been to juvenile placement, county jail, and state prison. Let me tell you what I think about today’s criminal-justice system.
Before we go any further, please disabuse yourself of the notion that I am dumb. I watch, listen, and learn from what happens around me. In some ways, I’m probably smarter than you. I bought three kilograms of cocaine for $93,000 last week. Quick: tell me how many quarter pounds, ounces, and eight-balls I have, and what should I sell each amount for if I need to make $250,000. I did that in my head while you were reaching for a calculator.
In today’s world, I take what I want. If I like the latest pair of Nike sneakers, I walk into a store, pick up the box, and walk out. Same goes for clothes, video games, and electronics. Nobody will stop me. The stores and police know that shoplifting is not prosecuted anymore in my city. The security guards at the store might try to stop somebody from walking out with 50 pairs of shoes, but it’s not worth the hassle of stopping somebody for one pair. When I was younger, boosting stuff took skill and effort. Not now—anybody can do it.
How do I make money? As you probably guessed from the math problem above, I sell drugs. I have a crew of guys that I grew up with. We all live in the same neighborhood. Are we a gang? We aren’t the Sinaloa cartel or the Crips, but the police consider us to be one. We work together to sell drugs, look out for each other against other crews, and control a few blocks. We sell cocaine, heroin, and crystal methamphetamine. We cut it with everything from baking soda to fentanyl. We give customers what they want.
The media and academics call us “nonviolent drug offenders,” but a nonviolent drug dealer is like a kindergarten teacher who doesn’t like kids: out of work. We sit on highly valuable merchandise and stacks of cash; of course, we carry guns. We are always at risk of being robbed, of what business people would call “hostile takeovers.” Since we can’t go to the police and complain, we’re as violent as we need to be to protect our business and our territory. Sometimes that requires merely the threat of violence, sometimes more.
-----
Our district attorney doesn’t believe in drug investigations, so nobody bothers us. Most of the crime in my city is related to drugs: homicides, shootings, robberies, burglaries, etc. If you don’t do drug investigations and prosecutions, you’ll never know what’s going on with these other crimes. When the police chase us, we take off in cars or on foot. Those types of chases are contrary to police policy now, per the district attorney, which works for me. If somebody does get arrested, we are out on bail the same day and right back on the job.
I, Criminal
I am a criminal. Nice to meet you. I am 21 years old, right at the peak of my criminal power. I live in a big city. I have been to juvenile placement, county jail, and state prison. Let me tell you what I think about today’s criminal-justice system. Before we go any further, please […]
www.city-journal.org
