Friday, July 3, 2009

Tuesdays with Mitso: Informal Tattle-Telling

This is the third day to my hangover that ensued (post- and post-haste) Tuesday night.

Beaten down and exhausted, not from working, but from discussing the informal sector with one of my most beloved comrades, Mitso. Actually, the pain was my own doing this time. I shot my motor-mouth off to some belligerent neighbours of ours at the establishment in which Mitso and I work.

I was atop the roof, taking a break with another comrade when I saw miniature explosions of water coming up from the ground. One of these spontaneous explosions almost blew off an innocent citizen's shoe-lace. After the third mine had erupted, I realized that these explosions were not mysterious aquifers, but were bombs being launched from above (the top-down!). I looked up at the neighbouring building to see three grinning faces with curved-peak baseball caps. How hilarious.

The next aerial water bomb nearly annihilated a girl's clean-shaven, spray-tanned arm!

No matter how obnoxious or unfortunate the creature, no one deserves to be unknowingly water-bombed.

After a few "HEY!"s and "STOP IT, ASSHOLE!"s, the idea of calling the cops dropped into my mind as quickly as a girl's pinky-toe polish was wiped away by a Molovwater-cocktail. One of my comrades thought calling the cops was a great idea, even though he made it quite apparent that I would have to take the rap for being the rat.

He was right. Even though it was infuriating to see fellow citizens raining on people's parade, the thought of calling the cops made me think of the horrible, authoritarian pomposity that would undoubtedly be released on these ignorant asses. What else could I do? This was a private party, on private condominium property, and security would never let me pass....

Wait! That's it!

These assholes pay their condo fees from which a portion is used to pay a security officer who privately keeps the peace for all of those who live in that condommunity. The security officer's job is not only to prevent assholes from getting into the community, but to ensure that those within the community are living in peace. This includes people being too loud, boisterous, or launching hand-propelled water-grenades from the penthouse suite.

Comrades! Keep watch! I'm going over.

Needless to say, the barrage of bombs ceased within moments of informing the security officer. The point of the story is that social enforcement not only stopped people from misbehaving, it prevented police perversion. Not to label the police as illegitimate actors of peace-enforcement, but we all know how haughty and inappropriate they can be about their 'rights' to power. If I had called the cops, not only would they get to the scene of misdemeanor too late, but they could bully and belittle the party-people for 'wasting their time'.

Too many times the police forget that they are civil servants and that they work for civilians. Too many times have they used their illegitimate authority as a shield to berate and assault the innocent. They usually seem to forget that they are there to serve us, not to intimidate us.

Of course, I explain why and what I had done to my comrade, Mitso. And, of course, I needed another drink.

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