prepare to meet your owners’ dogs
we are slaves to the whims of psychological misfits and busynoses (thanks to cat farmer for the term) — the front line of our owners. any interaction with “law enforcement” freaks, or “lobsters” (cat’s too), can go badly if you don’t kowtow to them. they expect submission for their jollies, as do rapists and murderers. the main difference is that it’s cloaked in BS talk to make them look holy.
however, if you are prepared for their tactics, you can often do much better than you’d think, without kissing ass. as boston t. party wrote in you & the police!, most cops are afraid. my experience bears that out. he also cautions against trying to out-tactic rogue cops; sometimes you must admit defeat so that you can fight later — especially when there are no witnesses.
as great as boston’s book is, even though slightly outdated, i may have found something a 
little better for serious research into practical ways to survive encounters with thugs while retaining some dignity and controlling their direction. it’s the just cause law collective.
here’s their quick advice for protesters at the RNC. some great stuff, including what is perhaps the most important question to ask whenever you’re stopped by LE assholes: “am i free to go?”
hell, if you didn’t want to look any further, you’d probably be alright with just these three lines, when used at the proper time.
- am i free to go?
- i don’t consent to you searching my _________.
- i’m going to remain silent. i would like to see a lawyer.
as they point out quite accurately, once you say you’re going to remain silent, do so (with only very rare exception). selecting what you will and won’t talk about is about the same as allowing yourself to be interrogated. cops are looking for hooks into you, and you mustn’t give them any. remaining silent isn’t as easy as it sounds either, when you’re just dying to scream. but try hard, and do not be intimidated by the worthless pukes who were so low and bent in the head that they actually picked up a pen and filled out an application to get paid for having power over you — usually after their leashmasters have disarmed you by force into comparative helplessness.
fuck them and their sanctimonious cover stories. may they all rot in hell wearing permalock handcuffs. perhaps these would work; they do a helluva job on my hummer.