When the police came round, repeatedly, to my childhood house, after being called by my mother because my father was raping and beating her, the police laughed.
Maybe the police, as a collective, will deserve respect in some hypothetical future where they don’t often harm the innocent, and don’t often make the world worse.
When the police came round, repeatedly, to my childhood house, after being called by my mother because my father was raping and beating her, the police laughed.
Maybe the police, as a collective, will deserve respect in some hypothetical future where they don’t often harm the innocent, and don’t often make the world worse.