The science and technology of law enforcement has evolved rapidly in the last twenty or thirty years. From the development of pepper spray and the widespread use of computers in the 1980s to the announcement from the National Academy of Sciences that DNA evidence was indeed reliable in the 1990s, law enforcement has changed and improved in an effort to keep pace with crime and more tech-savvy criminals. And personally, I think they’ve done a pretty good job.
The future of law enforcement—at least that bit the public is allowed to see—promises to be even more amazing: scent and sound-based deterrents (for some stinky crowd control); metabolic supplements to produce super-soldiers (think Captain America times thousands); unmanned drones; bullets that can perform “tricks,” like exploding above a target or tracking one from hundreds of meters away; lighter, more impenetrable body armor; microwave deterrent systems (to cook rioters from the inside until they quit raising hell); robotic exoskeletons (Robocop for real); nanotechnology (which should revolutionize almost everything); cloaking devices; and so much more.
Honestly, some of it seems like it’s straight out of a science fiction movie. And criminals better pay attention because these days—and for countless days and years to come—“getting away with it” won’t be as easy as it used to be. The cops have, or soon will have, the technology to sniff out even the most clandestine criminal activities.
Speaking of sniffing out crime, it is important to remember that sometimes nothing can compare to old-fashioned police work. Consider a recent case from Leicester, England—one that illustrates how a nose for crime can often be a cop’s most valuable piece of law enforcement equipment.
A “crack team” of three police officers were cruising around Leicester when one of them suddenly attacked his partners with an unlikely weapon: his ass. Due to a new high-protein diet designed to complement his exercise regime, the flatulent flatfoot unleashed a barrage of smelly farts upon his confined car mates, forcing them to open windows as they gasped for air. And that’s when a nose for crime finally paid off: they smelled cannabis.
It must have been a welcome change from all that “protein shake pooting” in the car, believe me.
The cops investigated and discovered a cannabis factory nearby with a crop worth almost $20,000. Not a bad bust considering it all started with a bad butt.
Any chance we can get more officers on this exercise regimen?
Early Saturday evening, a 23-year-old French soldier on patrol with several squad mates—part of France’s Vigipirate anti-terrorism plan—was attacked from behind and stabbed in the neck, most likely with a box cutter.
His attacker is described as a tall, bearded man in his mid-thirties, possibly of North African descent given the tunic he was wearing at the time. Unfortunately, the search for the blade-wielding madman has produced few leads or results, at least at the moment.
This comes only days after a British soldier was struck with a car and hacked to pieces by two Muslim extremists in broad daylight on the streets of London. In that particular case, though, the perpetrators stayed put to record cell phone messages and confront the police once they finally arrived.
Both men were of course shot and now reside under armed guard in local hospitals.
The good news in the Paris attack is that the young French soldier is stable and should recover fully from wounds described as “non-life-threatening.” And although his assailant remains at large, we all know it’s only a matter of time before he is apprehended by authorities.
This most recent attack obviously forms something I was hoping would not be formed after hearing about the slaughter in England: a pattern. For some reason, Muslim extremists are lashing out at soldiers throughout Europe and will likely continue to do so in the coming weeks. It appears to be some kind of protest, and one with deadly and often gruesome results.
Personally—and I know this isn’t the most popular view where the American government is concerned—I think we need to get the hell out of the Middle East and let people fend for themselves. I’m not opposed to humanitarian aid, mind you, just military support, the deployment of American troops and all the innocent people who die as a result of these military actions.
At some point, people just have to learn to govern themselves. And those that struggle should get the support they need, just not from a nation half way around the world. Why not keep things local for a while and see how that works? Yes, those countries that threaten or seek to conquer others need to be dealt with, only by someone on their own block.
We have enough problems stateside to keep us busy, that’s for sure.
I love when I have the opportunity to use a word like “vomit” in the title of a blog post.
While walking his dog along Morecambe beach in England recently, Ken Wilman came across what he thought was a soccer ball sized stone. He picked it up, sniffed it and immediately dropped it because, put simply, it stunk.
Is it possible he had just whiffed some petrified poo-poo? Not exactly.
He and his dog Madge went about their business, but once Wilman returned home, he decided to do a little research on the strange substance. A quick Google search revealed that it wasn’t fecal matter; it was ambergris, a digestive secretion produced by whales.
In other words, he had stumbled upon some whale vomit. Tasty.
Actually, the discovery turned out to be incredibly fortuitous since ambergris is most commonly used in perfumes, at least in countries other than the United States. Americans don’t use the stuff since collecting it once meant killing whales. It is still popular in some Asian and European countries, though.
If you’re like me, you’re probably wondering how something so foul can wind up making people smell so good. I’m no expert, mind you. But from what I understand, ambergris loses its stinky odor when it ages and eventually smells like rubbing alcohol. Adding it to perfume makes the scent last longer and reduces evaporation, which in turn makes the perfume last longer.
And believe me. Anyone rich enough to afford perfume with ambergris is probably glad it’s there. It seems to appear in only the “finest” and most exclusive scents around the world, which should make the rest of this story rather predictable.
Once Wilman realized what that pungent stone really was, he immediately returned to the beach and retrieved it. Lucky for him it was still there because shortly thereafter, he received an offer to buy the “Moby Dank” for almost $70,000!
I checked Wikipedia, against my better judgment, and I quote: “Ambergris can be found in the Atlantic Ocean and on the coasts of Brazil, Madagascar, the East Indies, The Maldives, China, Japan, India, Australia, New Zealand, and the Molucca Islands.” Feel free to add England to the list.
If you’re reading this and come from any of the countries or regions just mentioned, I have a proposition for you: if you happen upon this stuff, decide to sell it and need someone to peddle it to the highest bidder for you, let me know.
My standard fee is 10%, but I may be willing to charge you “friend prices” instead.
When you think of Burger King–if you’re anything like me–you probably imagine a fast-food restaurant full of kids wearing cardboard crowns; delicious, charbroiled burgers like the world-famous Whopper; and a general “have it your way” attitude visibly absent from most businesses these days.
What you might not expect to see at BK is a funeral procession through the drive-thru, but that’s exactly what happened last Saturday in York, Pennsylvania.
In honor of recently departed 88-year-old David Klime, whose favorite restaurant was Burger King, friends and family members took a detour through the drive-thru before heading over to the cemetery. His daughter Linda placed a Whopper Jr. on his grave once the short service concluded.
As touching as this is–and with due respect to this deceased Army veteran ad Purple Heart recipient–I found myself wondering if eating BK for so long had something to do with his ultimate demise. Since he lived 88 years, though, that seems highly unlikely.
However, I once went to a food expo and saw a McDonald’s cheeseburger from the 1960s. Thanks to all the preservatives and other crap inside it, the burger looked almost exactly as it did decades earlier. A little dry, perhaps, but otherwise the same.
So maybe the truth is that BK and its many delicious treats kept David alive all these years. It is possible, I suppose.
I was wrong.
The latest scandal involves the lovely Kate Middleton, wife to Prince William and the new Duchess of Cambridge. Apparently some paparazzi saw her sunbathing topless at a private house in France and snapped some rather blurry photographs of her royal boobs. The pictures were then published in the popular gossip magazine Closer.
As you might imagine, the royal family is outraged by both the invasion of Kate’s privacy and the subsequent decision to make these photos public. They are considering legal action for what they have described as “grotesque and totally unjustifiable.”
I’m not really sure what to make of all this, to be honest.
On the one hand, I think Kate is a bombshell and would undoubtedly enjoy any nude pictures of her. And since she was on vacation in France, a country where lots of people tend to get naked frequently, this doesn’t seem like a big deal. She was at a private and secluded residence, after all.
On the other hand, Kate and the rest of the royal family are important public figures and need to remember that everything they do or say is fodder for the media. And any revealing pictures taken of them will certainly be published somewhere. I’m sure these pictures fetch big bucks, so I would probably sell them, too.
I guess what I’m trying to say is this: stop acting like royal boobs, people. Otherwise your real boobs could end up plastered across every tabloid on the planet.
Or on my blog, for that matter. And here you are!
UPDATE: It’s official. William and Kate just filed suit against the French magazine that published topless photos of the future Queen. Since all of these photos will start being pulled from the web eventually, I thought it might be nice to post just one more. This one doesn’t involve nudity, but it is still very pleasant. I have to say that Prince William has done pretty well for himself.
I promise that I’m not throwing my hat into the political pundit ring or pushing any pro-Obama agenda, but doesn’t it seem as if Mitt Romney is traveling the world and pissing people off in every country he visits?
First, he became the object of ridicule in England after making some off-hand, thoughtless remarks about the Olympics. And now he’s angered Palestinians by suggesting “Israelis have been more economically successful because of their culture.”
And the other day, I heard a foreign commentator talking about how popular Obama is around the world, especially given the ineptitude of the president he replaced.
I’m no campaign manager, but if I were working for Romney, I would rein him in quickly and bring him back stateside. If he has any hope of winning the election in November, then he needs to convince people his foreign policy skills are sound.
And right now, I don’t think anyone is feeling it. Tighten up, Mitt!