As a chick married to an ex-cop, I say this all the time to people close to me, but it bears repeating here: No cop is your friend after you’ve been detained.
Get rear ended by a drunk at a red light? That cop will direct traffic around your vehicle, document the accident, sure. Call animal control on your piece of shit neighbor? You’ve got a pretty good chance the officer who shows up helps out in a meaningful way.
But after you’ve been arrested, when a police officer says, “Just be honest with me and I’ll do the same.” or the old “Help me and I’ll help you.” Politely ask for a lawyer. Shake your head. Ignore them. Pretend you’re Hollywood royalty being asked for a selfie. “ …mmmm… Sorry, but no.”
Keep your mouth shut. Don’t do their work for them. Wait for a lawyer.
I worked as a police dispatcher for a year and a half, and I’d agree with this. My cops were generally nice people (and I say this having been on the wrong end of their sirens twice, once before and once after being hired), and they often helped in good ways… on the street. Not so much in the station. Generally speaking (and I know this is oversimplification and is worse in a lot of places but), it went like this:
On the street, you were considered as a person/citizen they have sworn to protect who may have made a mistake or done something wrong.
Once you were in the station, you were considered as a criminal. In the station you are the only one on your side.
Stay safe.
TV and film has you thinking that only guilty people ask for a lawyer. This is not true. The law is complex and difficult and confusing and if you’re being questioned by the police you’re not going to be in your best state of mind. A lawyer is your basic civil right and you should exercise that right. Keep silent, ask for a lawyer, take your legal advice.
Guilty people don’t ask for a lawyer, smart people do.
“Guilty people don’t ask for a lawyer, smart people do.”
My uncle was a cop. My uncle is the most down to earth, wouldn’t hurt a fly person in the world. I don’t think he even arrested a single person ever, that wasn’t his job on the force.
His advice? Get a fucking lawyer. Never say a damn word. A cop knows how to twist your words around and make you even doubt yourself. They know damn well how to make you feel guilty by getting a lawyer. YOU need to know that it’s SMART to get a lawyer. Get a lawyer.
If you want to watch a show that shows people admitting to things they may not have done and the tactics involved, check out The Confession Tapes. It’s on Netflix.
My husband is a defense attorney, and yeah, get a lawyer. There is no lawyer more expensive than not getting a lawyer in this kind of situation.
Darth Vader’s stunt double Bob Anderson on the set of Empire Strikes Back
A champion fencer who won several competitions while in the British Royal Marines, Bob Anderson represented Great Britain at the Helsinki 1952 Summer Olympic Games, and the World Championships in 1950 and 1953 in the saber event. He finished tied for fifth in the team sabre event at Helsinki in 1952.
Following this carrier, Anderson went to Hollywood, where he worked as a fight choreographer and trainer for Errol Flynn. Anderson subsequently went on to be involved in all three of the original Star Wars films. Anderson did not receive much recognition for his work for years after their initial release. Mark Hamill in 1983 revealed, “Bob Anderson was the man who actually did Vader’s fighting. It was always supposed to be a secret, but I finally told George I didn’t think it was fair anymore. Bob worked so bloody hard that he deserves some recognition. It’s ridiculous to preserve the myth that it’s all done by one man.” Anderson in 1994 specified that for The Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi he staged the lightsaber duels and also wore the Vader costume in fight scenes. David Prowse, who played Vader, said he did his own swordplay in the first Star Wars film but afterward, “having one of the principals do his own stunts made [the filmmakers] very weird from an insurance point of view.”
Anderson continued to work in cinema for the next 30 years and was responsible for the swordsmanship in many films, including Highlander, The Princess Bride, The Three Musketeers, The Mask of Zorro, Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl and The Lord of the Rings film trilogy. Shortly before his death, he was working on The Hobbit. He had a reputation for being a perfectionist, with director Martin Campbell giving him the nickname “Grumpy Bob”. Anderson was interviewed at length for the 2009 documentary on cinematic sword-fighting, Reclaiming the Blade, where he commented, “I never took up the sword, I think the sword took me up.
If you watch the LotR extended behind the scenes footage, one of the hobbit actors (Dominic Monaghan I think?) talked about working with Anderson and how in awe he was of him. It’s really sweet.
casual intimacy kills me every time. grand gestures are cute and all but seeing two people who are just totally comfortable with having each other in their space, who dont think twice about leaning into each other and thoughtlessly holding each other while doing unrelated things….. thats love
you know what actually pisses me off? when I finally start to feel a smidge of confidence in my writing ability and then some JERK POSTS A SINGLE LINE FROM A TERRY PRATCHETT NOVEL AND IT’S BETTER THAN ANYTHING I WILL EVER WRITE NO MATTER HOW MANY MILLENNIA I SPEND TRYING!
Terry was a professional writer from the age of 17. He worked as a journalist which meant that he had to learn to research, write and edit his own work very quickly or else he’d lose his job.
He was 23 when his first novel was published. After six years of writing professionally every single day. The Carpet People was a lovely novel, from a lovely writer, but almost all of Terry’s iconic truth bomb lines come from Discworld.
The Colour of Magic, the first ever Discworld novel was published in 1983. Terry was 35 years old. He had been writing professionally for 18 years. His career was old enough to vote, get married and drink. We now know that at 35 he was, tragically, over half way through his life. And do you know what us devoted, adoring Discworld fans say about The Colour of Magic? “Don’t start with Colour of Magic.”
It is the only reading order rule we ever give people. Because it’s not that great. Don’t get me wrong, very good book, although I’ll be honest I’ve never been able to finish it, but it’s nowhere near his later stuff. Compare it to Guards Guards, The Fifth Elephant, the utterly iconic Nightwatch and it pales in comparison because even after nearly 20 years of writing, half a lifetime of loving books and storytelling Terry was still learning.
He was a man with a wonderful natural talent, yes. But more importantly he worked and worked and worked to be a better writer. He was writing up until days before he died. He spent 49 years learning and growing as a writer, taking so much joy in storytelling that not even Alzheimer’s could steal it from him. He wouldn’t want that joy stolen from you too.
Terry was a wonderful, kind, compassionate, genius of a writer. And all of this was in spite of many many people telling him he wasn’t good enough. At the age of five his headmaster told him that he would never amount to anything. He died a knight of the realm and one of the most beloved writers ever to have lived in a country with a vast and rich literary tradition. He wouldn’t let anyone tell him that he wasn’t good enough. And he wouldn’t want you to think you aren’t good enough. He especially wouldn’t want to be the reason why you think you aren’t good enough.
You’re not Terry Pratchett.
You are you.
And Terry would love that.
I only ever had a chance to talk to Terry Pratchett once, and that was in an autograph line. I’d bought a copy of The Carpet People, which was his very first book, and he looked at it with a faint air of concern. “You realise that I wrote that when I was very young,” he said, in warning.
“Yes,” I said. “But I like seeing how authors grow.”
He brightened and reached for his pen. “That’s all right then,” he said, and signed.
Rook's Writing 