Hard truths in Tales of Transhumanism

Okay, so here's the situation. Three-and-a-half years ago, I was arrested for being in possession of live ammunition. I had been drinking with friends in London and found a single bullet lying in the street, opposite a children's playpark. We had a good laugh about how the streets of London were paved with 9mil shells, and I stupidly thought that I would do good by giving it to a policeman to deal with. Well, I forgot, and that night got rowdier and rowdier, and eventually we were stop-and-searched by local rozzers. They, of course, found the bullet, I was arrested, I went to court, and they gave me a suspended sentence plus community service. Never mind the fact that I was attempting to do the fucking community a service by not leaving a nine-milimeter bullet in front of a kids playground, but that's another entry, I'm sure.

Anyway, I became homeless again shortly after and forgot all about the whole shebang. Cut to three days ago, when I was out and about getting hammered in the park opposite the house. A copper comes raring up to me, saying I'm being "drunk and disorderly" (I wasn't) and attempted to throw me to the ground to cuff me. I wasn't having any of that horseshit, and told him so. I attempted to leave. He smashed me in the face and cuffed me, and when I was at the police station they charged me with resisting arrest and assault on a police officer (a crime that I have been convicted of many times, thanks to the broad definition of "assault" we have in this country). After almost four years of not getting arrested, it happened once again.

The "four years not getting arrested" thing, as it would turn out, worked in my favour.

They haul me to the cop-shop where they fingerprint me and blah blah blah. Turns out there was a warrant for my arrest dating back to 2011 for the failure to appear. The police have been in my flat a few times over the last few months and they failed to mention that I was wanted, but now they've decided to tell me that I have committed an offense by not appearing to do my community service.

Not to worry. I mean, they've pushed trumped-up charges at me for minding my own fucking business that they know I can't try to contest, with my previous history of violence towards asshole cops (and, yes, there are decent cops out there; I don't attack all police. Only the ones that attack me first) so I pleaded guilty.

The surprise comes with this: they fuckin' bailed me. That right there is a shock-and-awe moment. The fact that I've spent the last three years trying, at least, to sort things out in my life has the judges happy. They bailed me. Incredible.

So here's the Cliff's notes: I found a bullet in the street and picked it up, ready to hand it to a police officer at the earliest convenience, and got thrown to the wolves as a result. They gave me a ludicrous punishment, which I didn't do. A few years later, I got picked up for an unrelated incident. Instead of being remanded, which is the usual outcome, I have been bailed for both offenses for pre-sentence reports. I pleaded guilty to both incidents, because fuck "fighting the power" when an early guilty plea gets a third off your sentence automatically. Conditions of bail are that I have a curfew between 7PM and 7AM every day, which will be electronically monitored via ankle bracelet. I have to sign at my local police station every other day (which, luckily, is just a few doors down from my house) and I have to talk to probation. They will also have me doing 150 hours of unpaid community service for the bullet, and, it's likely, another 160 hours for the assault on the copper... but that is all dependent on the pre-sentence report. If I don't make a good impression with the probation officer I will spend at least 8 of the next 16 months in prison.

Anyway... aahh, fuck the police.