Good times! These are the good times!
Oh the fun one can have with a lick or two by Nile Rodgers of Chic, one of the unsung musical masters of the century last gone by.
As shown above, nearly anything can be done with the tune, and its lyrical hook. That's songwriting.
These gentlemen, the official choir of the Russian internal police force, probably don't speak a word of English. But they do speak mankind's common language, of being up all night to get lucky. What tickles me about this performance and video is the incongruity of these very pale, very proper, most un-hip men, who under other circumstances might be using a truncheon to beat songs out of suspects in the Lubyanka basement, expressing such a happy and universal desire. Fun is where you find it.
You can teach an old dog new tricks. But can you retrain your police department?
Last Monday's strange interlude, in which Clark and I vomited out multiple quick posts over a span of hours, produced much consternation among you people. It was a Popehat tradition, something that occurs roughly annually, "Instapundit Day." Every Instapundit Day we:
A) Pay a weird sort of tribute to one of the most talented, prolific, and influential bloggers around;
B) Amuse ourselves by parodying his style (with affection), while clearing out old links; and
C) Drive some of you people bonkers.
I leave it to you to rank those priorities.
Speaking of you people, a number of you reached out to us on Twitter to ask whether Popehat had been hacked. It had not, unless my infrequent use of the site counts as hacking. A number of you, who evidently don't follow us on Twitter, seemed horrified on discovering "Zombie Dog," Popehat's unofficial mascot, who is featured prominently on our Twitter page. What you wanted to know was, why am I looking at a bleeding dog, and who did that to him?
The answers, of course, are: "Because"; and, "It's Just Food Coloring." The photo was taken on Halloween in 2011. Note the pumpkin at the mailbox.
This is what Zombie Dog looked like this morning.
He's getting up there in years, but isn't ready to shuffle off any time soon, Bog willing.
Unfortunately, that can't be said for Arfee. Arfee shuffled off on July 9, 2014, under the gun of Officer David Kelley of the Coeur D'Alene, Idaho Police Department, in a case of mistaken identity. Officer Kelley mistakenly identified Arfee as a threatening, "vicious Pit Bull," when in fact, Arfee was a restrained, non-threatening Labrador Retriever, who could never have harmed Officer Kelley.
Kelley and another officer were responding to a report of a suspicious van in a possible child enticing case when they approached Jones’ van around 11 a.m. Kelley said in his report that he was afraid of being bitten in the face by the dog that lunged at him through the window.
“In this particular incident, all board members agree Officer Kelley feared for his safety and used deadly force to protect himself,” said the review board’s report.
However, Kelley didn’t appear to consider his location – the crowded parking lot behind Java, the report said. He was firing toward an intersection and residential neighborhood. The other officer, whom Kelley was training, was on the other side of the van and tinted windows obscured the line of sight.
At the time of the shooting, Arfee was confined to his owner's van, as the owner went into a coffee shop. How the dog could have gotten out of the van is a mystery. How the dog could have harmed Officer Kelley is beyond me. What isn't beyond me is that Officer Kelley had no reasonable fear for his safety, no objective basis under which he could deem Arfee a threat. Officer Kelley shot Arfee through a windshield, which presumably would have prevented this "vicious Pit Bull," or Labrador Retriever as it turned out, from eviscerating Officer David Kelley.
David Kelley then hauled off Arfee's corpse, leaving behind a helpful note explaining to Arfee's owner why he was no longer Arfee's owner. Astonishingly, Kelley has been found to be in violation of department safety policy for firing his gun in a crowded parking lot, where he could have hit people including his own partner. Not so astonishingly, Kelley will face no discipline for what he did to Arfee, who posed less threat to Officer Kelley than I do, typing from my keyboard 3000 miles away.
After all, Arfee is no more, thanks to David Kelley's sure and steady finger on the trigger. This post is going nowhere, and Google is forever.
People have told us we focus too much on cops who shoot dogs, ignoring more important problems, such as officers shooting unarmed teenaged human beings. Those people are missing the point. We write about appalling stories like Arfee's because, well, we really like dogs, but also because we know that teenagers, and let's be real, especially black and brown teenagers, seem more threatening than man's best friend. Especially after they've been written up in a police report as having flashed a "shiny" or "metallic" object, or having made a "furtive" movement toward their pockets. Sort of the way any dog shot by a cop, magically, becomes a "vicious Pit Bull," even if it began its day as a Labrador Retriever, like Arfee. Someone should write about this.
At Popehat, "Officer Shot Dog" is a metaphor. What it really means is, "Be Very Careful When Reading Stories Of Police Shootings Of Human Beings, And Remember That The Media Are Often Cop Stenographers."
As for the dogs, we've come too far to give up who we are. Why do we still allow heavily armed police officers to roam around with less training on how to deal with a common, generally peaceful animal than what we provide to mail carriers?
And now for something completely different.
This comes by way of my good friend Clark, who comments, "This man is my hero."
I could nitpick and critique this honest citizen's response to a brutal police invasion of his home ("Your invocation of Federal precedent is laughable") but why?
This man is my hero.