Swine Times!

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The following is purely anecdotal….angry pig

So, a fellow is headed downtown on a country road with a posted limit of 55. This fellow drives faster than 55, chiefly because he wants to get where he’s going without it taking all day – and because he knows there’s no reason – other than it being against “the law” – to drive 70 or so. The road is a rural highway; gentle radius curves, good sight distances and lightly traveled. Unfortunately, there are Clovers – and very few legal passing zones. Several formerly legal passing zones were recently painted over double-yellow, leaving two options when one rolls up on a Clover running ten under the already preposterous maximum legal speed:

Adjust one’s pace to the slow-motion pace of the Clover.

Or – pass him.

Double yellow be damned.

Well, our friend – who relayed this tale to me so that I could relay it to you – chose the second option this morning. He had just begun his pass – over the double yellow, but with plenty of time to execute the maneuver and get back in his lane – when up ahead, just rounding the bend, came Officer-Not-So-Friendly. Ordinarily, our friend would have been alerted to the presence of pork by his trusty radar detector. But this time, the cop wasn’t running his radar; he may have been headed back to his waller. In any case, it was too late. Our friend was committed. Over the double yellow – three-fourths of the way through his hugely illegal (but perfectly safe) passing maneuver. He faced the prospect of a major bust. Probably, a “reckless driving” charge.

There was only one thing to do.


Our friend had two crucial advantages.

One, he was already moving – fast. The cop had to stop, turn around – and then reacquire his target (our friend).

This leads to the second advantage in our friend’s favor: Just after passing the Clover – and the cop – the road becomes a series of sharp S turns as it descends (9 percent grade) down a mountain, to the valley below. Our friend wagered his skills as a wheelman were superior to those of his pursuer – and more to the point, that he stood a better than decent chance of getting out of sight before the cop could catch up.

And – so he told me – that’s just what he did.

Then he took a sharp left onto a winding country road – one he happened to know meandered for miles through the empty woods, with lots of dirt driveways – take your pick – to disappear down.

Then, he waited. And after a decent interval, snuck back onto the road – and went about his business as if nothing had happened.angry pig 1

Somewhere out there, hooves are angrily scratching the earth; hot breath is visible escaping from flaring nostrils.

Because this time, one got away… .







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  1. While looking at the photo at the top of the article it seems to me that a lot of people just see an ugly animal. And that photo truly captures the essence of a pig. Besides being ugly, many people do not realize just how dangerous to their own safety that animal is.

    I think the same is true of cops.
    [And politicians and bureaucrats.]

    People downplay pigs. As if they are, ‘just pigs’. However; consider that more people die from pig attacks than they do from shark attacks!
    And then consider how most people are deathly afraid of sharks. … But for some reason they think pigs are relatively harmless.

    A swine attack is a really serious thing. Especially when there’s a herd of them, a.k.a. a thugscrum.
    In fact, it’s a national epidemic! One the C.D.C. should be warning about.

    ….Well, if the world made any sense the C.D.C. would be doing that. But here on Bizzarro World we don’t see ads on the TV warning about how it’s dangerous to interact with pigs, or to be near them, or to call out to them. Especially at quota, er I mean, nursing time.

    Pigs should always be confined by fences if at all possible (a.k.a. they should have to obey the laws at all times) and the feral ones… well, the guys in places where there are feral pigs know what to do with that menace.

    I really liked how the guys in places such as Michigan attempted to domesticate feral pigs. It’s too bad the state put an end to that. It really needs to be done nationwide. But even the state realizes (in a whacked way) that feral pigs on the loose are not a good thing:


    Privatized pigs are dangerous, but privatized pigs are controllable and therefore, for some people, they’re worth having around.
    It’s the uncontrollable pigs in public that are a menace.


    Fence your garden well.

  2. If it had been me and got caught, I would have asked the pig how he lawfully got round the Clover on double yellows. Everyone is equal under the law. Now now piggy, no squealin’. Just write yourself a ticket and and be on your way.

    Congrats on getting away. Richly deserved.

    • ЯΞ√ΩLUT↑☼N, That is one thing I never understood. …Well, until I understood.

      How do the pigs justify breaking the law to stop the law breaker?

      When I was naive I thought pigs couldn’t lie either, or misrepresent themselves, and all manner of things they routinely do now. It’s a blur to make a distinction between cop and criminal.

      When I was naive I believed in things such as integrity with regards to the police, as if they should do everything in their power to not toe over the line and become law breakers themselves.
      I could respect that.

      … That was then. This is now.

      I think things changed completely the moment when I could cross the county line and they would no longer stop.

      • That’s right DSF, although they run out of jurisdiction at the county line in certain cases and they know the courts know it, reasons for it should be challenged in court anyway. The state line’s a more powerful pig-stopper though.

        I used to uphold respect for cops, which eroded rapidly over my first year on the road – legally for a change. I believe in their ability to bypass simple laws such as a double yellow, but only for actual criminals. The difference being a crime must have a victim, otherwise no crime has occurred. They made a victimless grey area called “misdemeanour” (called quasi-criminal here) to cover the rest, where in my and non-corrupt judges’ opinions, an orificer has no more right to break laws than any individual.

        Note that any quasi-crime or misdemeanour, where there’s no victim there’s no crime and no case to answer to. Such cases are false and a blatant fraud. Like giving a cop the middle-finger does no harm to him personally, nor does he lose sleep over it, even if it’s not deserved he’s still just a person and likewise your neighbour won’t win a suit against your finger to him. How dare he think himself above his status – a public servant – a role designed to protect the public, then give you a wood shampoo and lock you up for a mere finger. That’s when he’s truly overdone it and will burn at the stake.

        This is how I argue my cases. I don’t use a beak because they’ll stand there and bleat that I’m terribly sorry, it won’t happen again your fucking lordship, kissy kissy. Guaranteed to lose with a beak. Second reason is that the slimy fucks make oodles off minor infractions all year, every year, giving you a false hope you might get a reduced penalty. Fuck that.

        I’ve challenged a few of these in Australia and won, simply because the cops here ain’t allowed to pursue over 120k/h, but they always do. When questioned regarding their tactics at the time and how they ignored their own stiff operating procedures, the judge goes a familiar shade of purple because he knows that no revenue will be flowing from my pocket today.

        • “The state line’s a more powerful pig-stopper though.”

          Yeah, I don’t know, it does not seem that way here anymore. Not at all.
          All the lines are blurred.

          I live in the unitedstate.

    • Indeed!

      Swine are spayshull – or so they believe. And so they are – insofar as “the law” is concerned. Here, an off-duty – a retired – cop can legally carry a gun into a bar or other establishment that serves alcohol. But I – a mere mundane – cannot do so. Even though I have a concealed carry permit. Even though I personally am not drinking alcohol.

      PS: I will convey your congratulations….

      • From The O.C Weekly News Site:

        Thanks to the enormous power and influence of the police-union lobby, California governmental entities offer generous pay and perks to cops, including deals that allow the public employees to retire at the relatively young age of 50 while collecting huge, taxpayer-funded, monthly pensions and medical insurance for the rest of their lives. Another benefit in the state is known as the Public Safety Officer’s Procedural Bill of Rights (POBR), a law that grants cops special rights designed to hinder investigations into an officer’s alleged criminal or unethical conduct. For example, a cop suspect in a police personnel probe must be handed all the records—including confidential informant reports—the agency has collected against him before trying to get his version of events.

        POBR also requires police-state type conditions. Law-enforcement agencies are prohibited from informing the public about dirty or incompetent officers’ conduct as well as what, if any, disciplinary actions management imposed. In other words, departments can hire unfit cops, ignore wrongdoing and keep citizens clueless about the men and women who are given deadly force, invasive investigatory and arrest powers in the state. On a day-to-day basis, police bosses and rank-and-file cops appreciate living in this mutually satisfactory cocoon of minimal public accountability.

  3. Next time you see this guy (and I have a feeling it might be soon ;-j ) please congratulate him on his skill, and his willingness to buck the system!

  4. That pig might’ve been my cousin, officer Chris P. Bacon!

    Buford T. Justice: What we’re dealing with here is a complete lack of respect for the law.

    Junior: My hat blew off, daddy.
    Buford T. Justice: I hope your goddamn head was in it.

    Junior: Daddy, the top came off!
    Buford T. Justice: No shit!

    Buford T. Justice: [to his son] There’s no way, *no* way that you came from *my* loins. Soon as I get home, first thing I’m gonna do is punch yo mamma in da mouth!

    Buford T. Justice: [shouting at a trucker that has sheered a door off of Justice’s patrol car] I saw that, you sombitch! You did that on purpose! You’re going away till you’re gray! I got the evidence!
    Buford T. Justice: [speaks to Junior] Put the evidence in the car.
    Junior: But Daddy…
    Buford T. Justice: Put the *evidence* in the *car*!

    Buford T. Justice: If you’re gonna hang out in places like this, wear a badge on your didey

    Alabama State Trooper: Did you see that? They went right through our roadblock!
    Buford T. Justice: You som’bitches couldn’t close an umbrella!

    Sheriff Branford: Where in the woods? Listen I don’t care if your dad is the mayor, you wreck this car; it’s comin out of your pay.
    Branford’s Deputy: Yeah but Sheriff he’s getting away.
    Sheriff Branford: Son he’s not going anywhere. The Mulberry Bridge has been dismantled for the past 6 months.

    Buford T. Justice: And don’t go home, and don’t go to eat, and don’t play with yourself. It wouldn’t look nice on my highway.
    Buford T. Justice: Oh, you can THINK about it… but don’t do it!

    [after kicking one of the car thieves in the rear]
    Buford T. Justice: That’s an attention-getter.

    She insulted my town! She insulted my son! [Junior starts to say something] Shaddup! She insulted my authority! And that’s nothin’ but plain and simple old-fashioned communism. Happens every time one of those dancers starts poon-tangin’ around with those show-folk fags!

    Som B!tch! – Buford T Justice


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