PoliceInteraction

Police usually interact with violence, sexist and racial prejudice.

Don't trust them :o)

There is various cops versions.

The Good Cop

"How about you talk, and we'll get you some better food and rights?"

The Bad cop

"My partner plays by the book. I don't. If you want your month to stay intact, make it talk!"

The Nietzchean cop

"There is no universal morality. Only will to power. And with that knowledge in mind, I have chosen to be an interrogator."

The MislavZugaj cop

"Depending on what how things are developing by Friday, I might organise invididual talks. But as always, your word above mine, there just has to be a word."

The Dutch cop

"Sorry we don't have time and human resources to look into your case right now. You can object or hire a lawyer." [ACAB]

The Foucault Cop:

"Society is a cop, the individual is a prisoner"

The Žižekian Cop:

"The odd thing was that before God closed in on me, I was in fact offered what now appears a moment of wholly free choice. In a sense I was going up Headington Hill on the top of a bus. Without words and (I think) almost without images, a fact about myself was somehow presented to me. I became aware that I was holding something at bay, or shutting something out. Or, if you like, that I was wearing some stiff clothing, like corsets, or even a suit of armour, as if I were a lobster. I felt myself being, there and then, given a free choice. I could open the door or keep it shut; I could unbuckle the armour or keep it on. Neither choice was presented as a duty; no threat or promise was attached to either, though I knew that to open the door or to take off the corset meant the incalculable. The choice appeared to be momentous but it was also strangely unemotional. I was moved by no desires or fears. In a sense I was not moved by anything. I chose to open, to unbuckle, to loosen the rein. I say, "I chose," yet it did not really seem possible to do the opposite. On the other hand, I was aware of no motives. You could argue that I was not a free agent, but I am more inclined to think this came nearer to being a perfectly free act than most that I have ever done. Necessity may not be the opposite of freedom, and perhaps a man is most free when, instead of producing motives, he could only say, 'I am what I do.' Then came the repercussion on the imaginative level. I felt as if I were a man of snow at long last beginning to melt. The melting was starting in my back—drip-drip and presently trickle-trickle. I rather disliked the feeling. "