Breach of Contract!

It’s a pretty straightforward deal when you think about it. I give up around half my income when you factor in state and federal taxes. In exchange for me handing over my hard-earned money, your contractual obligation is to maintain order, to protect the average citizen, to uphold the law, and to punish the lawbreakers.

When I signed this contract, there were no carve-outs for any ethnicity, or gender, or particular situation. Black people were not exempted from being protected because they were black, but by the same token, they were not exempted from being punished if they broke the law. The same went for whites, browns, reds, or whatever color one might identify as. Put an Irishman in the sun long enough, and you’ll have to throw lobster in there somewhere, just to cover the whole color spectrum.

In the contract that we signed as lawful citizens, there were no addendums wherein you did your job only if you felt like it, or if you felt at all threatened while carrying out your sworn duty, you could just pack up, tuck tail, and run.

If all that being in law enforcement was meant to entail was giving speeding tickets to soccer moms for really punching their minivans once in a while, then sorry to say, we don’t need you, please return our money, and be on your way. I hear repossession is a growing field, and after all this nonsense, rubble cleanup will be booming.

If you are neither willing to protect or serve, then you are by definition useless, suckling at the teat of the taxpayer, and hoping no one notices you’re nowhere to be found when your services are needed. The same goes for mayors, governors, or any elected bureaucrat that is still shamelessly calling this a peaceful protest or insisting that you don’t need more than a single shot musket as home defense, because they’re always there to protect you. Really? Are they? I’m not expecting the Alamo here, but walking away from a police station without putting up a fight and letting gangsters and hooligans burn it down, doesn’t inspire much confidence that in my hour of need you’ll come to the rescue.

At least be honest with the average citizen and tell him he’s on his own. Tough luck buttercup, if things go sideways, all you’ve got is you, and whatever means of defense you’re able to rustle up. The cops will be too busy hightailing it or giving impromptu interviews about how they understand the anger and frustration or some such malarkey.

For the most part, I’m a happy-go-lucky goofy doofus sort of cat, and those who know me can attest to this. I’m no testosterone Tom; I don’t go looking for a fight. However, if you are posing a danger to my wife or my daughters, then I don’t care what skin color you are, you can be translucent for all I care, I’ll do my best to arrange a face to face, one on one with Jesus Himself so that you can explain yourself to Him.

If you cross that line, then the time for conversation has come to a close. I won’t be looking to dialogue with you, or wing you, or understand what childhood trauma brought about the need for you to attempt to physically assault another human being. You threatened my family, and it’s my duty to protect them! I may not be as proficient at it as some, but I’m a quick learner, and rage is a good motivator.

Because a small percentage of hooligans have been given free rein to pillage, burn, deface, loot, and otherwise destroy other people’s hard work, they’ve now gotten into their heads that they need to expand the franchise, and make their way into the suburbs. What they haven’t figured is that they’ll have to deal with a whole new kind of clientele, the kind that won’t just curl up and die, but will put up a fight. Be careful what you wish for, goes the old saying, you just might be unfortunate enough to get it. 

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea Jr.