An achy-brakey interlude

Dispatched to investigate a reported disturbance between neighbors in the wee hours of Feb. 24, deputies reached the Mauff Court address just in time to nearly run over a well-oiled man driving an ATV. He was apparently driving because he could barely walk, and deputies returned him to the alleged crime scene with some difficulty. According to the man’s wife, she and hubby had been “partying a little bit” with a neighbor and discussing country music when that volatile subject predictably led to violent discord. Her husband shoved her, prompting the gallantly lubricated neighbor to intervene, thus widening the conflict. Seeing his wife call 911, the man shoved her again and hit the trail on his trusty 4-wheeler, perhaps hoping to T-bone a police cruiser. As in any decent country western song, the unforgiving county lawmen tossed the hard-drinkin’ range-rider in the calaboose.

 

Skulking sculptor creates 4-way split

One sunny afternoon a local developer summoned sheriff’s deputies to a Hilltop Road residential construction site to investigate what could be termed anti-sculpting. Sometime during the previous 24 hours, a determined anti-artist had transformed a handsome 9-square-foot stone mega-sign welcoming passers-by to “The Observatory on Independence Mountain” into four smaller signs that, individually, convey no clear message. Although the anti-sculptor didn’t sign his work, the doleful developer suspects he may have seen his handiwork before. Other anti-acts against the planned subdivision have included strewing roofing nails along the entrance drive and depositing the site’s building permit and blueprints into the most fragrant part of a portable toilet. Officers promised a month’s-worth of increased patrols and, with luck, the destructive Degas will soon be making big rocks into little ones for the county.

Signs of trouble plague absentee neighbor

At about 10 a.m. on Jul. 11, deputies were called to a Booker Lane address where persons unknown may have been trying to send a message. According to a woman at the scene, her absent neighbor had prevailed upon her to watch his house and, that morning, she’d noticed a small forest of commercial signs and solar lights had suddenly sprung up like promotional mushrooms at the end of his driveway. Investigating, officers found 14 signs and 14 solar lights posted in the drive, plus a solar-powered address sign and a cardboard box that had been used to cover the man’s mailbox. The ornaments seemed to have been filched from yards across a wide area, and deputies were able to repatriate only a few of the signs and none of the solar lights to their rightful owners. The woman could shed no further light on the incident except to say that her neighbor “does not have a good reputation in the neighborhood.”

 

What a Dumas

‘Twas after noon when young d’Artagnan called in a possible shooting. Although he hadn’t personally witnessed the horror, he had it on the best authority that Athos and Porthos had resolved to confront Aramis at a public location near Coal Mine Avenue and South Pierce. Words were exchanged, epithets hurled, weapons drawn, and Athos shot Aramis down like a dog, wounding him grievously.

Officers rushed to the scene, but all seemed keen and serene. They contacted local hospitals, but none had admitted a mutilated Mousquetaire. Puzzled, deputies asked d’Artagnan how he came by his knowledge of the furtive felony. Simple, d’Artagnan said; it’s all over Facebook.

Sure enough, the whole bloody business was detailed on page after cyber-page, everything from Athos’s lion-hearted declaration that “when all else fails, pull out your gun,” to Aramis’s valiant postings from the emergency room assuring supporters that he’d only suffered a “flesh wound” and would live to fight another day. Turns out the savage encounter was nothing more than a crude work of romantic teen-fiction cooked up by the classical trio – “a joke”, Athos told officers, meekly; a harmless entertainment, and purely “metaphorical”.

An especially critical deputy countered that he perceived “no literary or poetic value to a post stating he was ‘dodging gunfire from a homey’” and gave the three authors a harsh review of why such online tomfoolery is “a bad idea”. The contrite cavaliers promised to keep their metaphorical swords sheathed from now on.

Babylon ’15

For you of law-abiding turn

   And candid temperament

It doesn’t pay to share concern

   Of criminal ferment

Or take to task in language stern

   The common miscreant

 

The vandal is no public blight

   Proclaims the advocate

To exercise his sacred right

   And nobly desecrate

Somebody else’s weal by night

   Protesting his estate

 

The thief is not a loathsome worm

   The robber not a curse

‘Victim’ is now the sanctioned term

   For those who loot our purse

And we by selfishness confirm

   Ourselves to be far worse

 

A rioter is not a thug

   Nor wanton arsonist

We’ll answer anarchy with hugs

   Apologists insist

And shake their heads and smugly shrug

   As outrages persist

 

No longer is it safe to scold

   The killer for his deed

Society, unjust and cold

   Itself nurtured the seed

That’s grown into a hunter bold

   And so we all must bleed

 

Even the savage Jihadi

   Can suffer no offense

Mysogyny’s his culture, see?

   His birthright violence!

Respect medieval bigotry

   Lest punishment commence

 

In this our modern Babylon

   We judge at our expense

Our highest virtue rests upon

   Unthinking tolerance

And greatest sin is hatin’ on

   Malignant pestilence

 

babylon