I’m sit­ting here in my north Lon­don lair, try­ing to enjoy a peace­ful Sun­day early after­noon, while out­side a high-speed car chase is tak­ing place, between what I am guess­ing is a stolen vehi­cle vs. a very low-flying police helicopter.

It’s like my very own per­son­alised episode ITV’s “The Bill”, only with a higher pro­duc­tion bud­get and bet­ter stunt men.

The car, a sil­ver piece of crap, has sped past my front win­dow sev­eral times, the dri­ver appar­ently think­ing that going in cir­cles will con­fuse the chop­per pilot and he will lose his tail in the sky.

It don’t work that way, homie!

The heli­copter, which must cost a grand or two an hour to keep in the sky, has been fly­ing so low that my house has been shaken and when I looked out my ground floor win­dow and saw it, it was as if I could look in the pilot’s eyes. If my back gar­den wasn’t postage stamp sized, I would have thought he might have set it down on my patio, to con­tinue the chase on foot.

This is mod­ern life in the urban ghetto, wel­come and enjoy your stay. If you can’t enjoy your stay, at least be heav­ily armed!

It’s worse at night, with the cop chop­pers, they use pow­er­ful spot­lights, which when they hit your win­dows, can be quite star­tling. Per­haps they’re run­ning sur­veil­lance at night, lis­ten­ing in on our phone calls and pri­vate con­ver­sa­tions inside our homes. The tech­nol­ogy exists to do all that, but does the will?

I was dri­ving through my neigh­bour­hood at night, a cou­ple of weeks ago and I saw a large gang of kids being stop’n’searched by the local rozzers. The kid­dies by my esti­ma­tion, ranged in age from 12 to 15 years old and there were over 20 of them, with half a dozen cops doing the search­ing. Not great odds for the cops, if you fig­ure all those chil­dren had weapons and the cops only had lit­tle sticks. This was tak­ing place three min­utes by foot from my front door. Cool, eh?

It’s gone quiet out­side, finally. I don’t hear the chop­per any more, though I am sure it will be back. It always comes back. I won­der if the guy in the sil­ver piece of crap got caught.

Prob­a­bly not.

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