11 Detained Over Attack at a Store in London
LONDON — Eleven people between 16 and 22 years old were in custody on Tuesday after a fatal stabbing 24 hours earlier shut down London’s main shopping street during one of its busiest days of the year, a move that prompted frustrated consumers to surge against police lines and a police officer to fire a stun gun.
The stabbing, part of a wave of knife crime that has swept through many of Britain’s largest cities in recent years, stunned many here. It seemed likely to renew pressure for stiffer penalties against those who carry knives, and demands that Prime Minister David Cameron fulfill promises in a general election 20 months ago that all those caught carrying knives would face prison terms.
Interesting. I remember in the 1997s the parliament banned gun ownership in Great Britain after the Dunblane massacre. Everyone would be safe now that no one but the army and the cops could have a gun. Well it seems it hasn't worked out that well. Gun crime is soaring in Britain as illegal firearms flood in. And if someone will kill you with a gun he will likely kill you with a knife.
...The episode unfolded on Monday, as thousands of local residents and tourists flocked to Boxing Day sales. British newspaper reports said members of rival youth gangs had clashed over a pair of sneakers in a Foot Locker store....
...With shoppers looking on, police officers and paramedics came to his (DOA Seydou Diarrassouba. 18 YOA) aid. Armed officers deployed in the area stood guard, repeatedly pushing back angry youths seeking to reach the victim as the paramedics tried in vain to revive him.
A few hours later, a second man, 21, was stabbed in the leg near the Oxford Circus Underground station, a few hundred yards from of the first attack. His wounds were not life-threatening.
Commenting on a possible connection between the stabbings, a police inspector, Bruce Middlemiss, was quoted by The Guardian newspaper as saying: “There’s nothing firm. However, they are a similar sort of circumstances, youths possibly from the same South London area.”
News reports said that various weapons had been recovered in the first case, and that the police were questioning a 16-year-old, three 17-year-olds, five 19-year-olds and two 22-year-olds. The police were focusing their investigation across the Thames in South London, setting up an incident room at Lewisham, a district where youth gangs rioted in August in the wave of rioting that struck dozens of British cities and towns.
Detective Chief Inspector Mark Dunne told the BBC, “There appear to be two groups of young people involved in this incident and opposing each other.”...
I think I get it. If you are a piece of s#$%, you really don't value your life or the life of your fellow man then killing or severely wounding a man is no real issue for you. You haven't been raised to value yourself or others and expect others to give you every thing you want. So if some fool gets in the way between you and your shoes I guess stabbing them is justified in your worldview.
I recall the end of the The Lord of the Flies, detailing the moral decay of a group of British boys marooned on an island. Eventually two of the boys are killed and at the end a British Naval Officer looks upon the group,
I recall when there were riots last summer in Great Britain. A writer there came up with the term "feral humans". They were unable to function in society by taking care of themselves. The kids in Lord of the Flies decayed under a lack of guidance and supervision. The punks we saw last summer and this week never had it to begin with. And the lack of child raising is showing.The officer nodded, as if a question had been answered.
“Are there any adults—any grown-ups with you?”
Dumbly, Ralph shook his head. He turned a halfpace on the sand. A semicircle of little boys, their bodies streaked with colored clay, sharp sticks in their hands, were standing on the beach making no noise at all.
“Fun and games,” said the officer.
The fire reached the coconut palms by the beach and swallowed them noisily. A flame, seemingly detached, swung like an acrobat and licked up the palm heads on the platform. The sky was black.
The officer grinned cheerfully at Ralph.
“We saw your smoke. What have you been doing? Having a war or something?”
Ralph nodded.
The officer inspected the little scarecrow in front of him. The kid needed a bath, a haircut, a nose-wipe and a good deal of ointment.
“Nobody killed, I hope? Any dead bodies?”
“Only two. And they’ve gone.”
The officer leaned down and looked closely at Ralph.
“Two? Killed?”
Ralph nodded again. Behind him, the whole island was shuddering with flame. The officer knew, as a rule, when people were telling the truth. He whistled softly.
Other boys were appearing now, tiny tots some of them, brown, with the distended bellies of small savages. One of them came close to the officer and looked up.
“I’m, I’m—”
But there was no more to come. Percival Wemys Madison sought in his head for an incantation that had faded clean away.
The officer turned back to Ralph.
“We’ll take you off. How many of you are there?”
Ralph shook his head. The officer looked past him to the group of painted boys.
“Who’s boss here?”
“I am,” said Ralph loudly.
A little boy who wore the remains of an extraordinary black cap on his red hair and who carried the remains of a pair of spectacles at his waist, started forward, then changed his mind and stood still.
“We saw your smoke. And you don’t know how many of you there are?”
“No, sir.”
“I should have thought,” said the officer as he visualized the search before him, “I should have thought that a pack of British boys—you’re all British, aren’t you?—would have been able to put up a better show than that—I mean—”
“It was like that at first,” said Ralph, “before things—”
He stopped.
“We were together then—”
The officer nodded helpfully.
“I know. Jolly good show. Like the Coral Island.”
Ralph looked at him dumbly. For a moment he had a fleeting picture of the strange glamour that had once invested the beaches. But the island was scorched up like dead wood—Simon was dead—and Jack had. . . .
The tears began to flow and sobs shook him. He gave himself up to them now for the first time on the island; great, shuddering spasms of grief that seemed to wrench his whole body. His voice rose under the black smoke before the burning wreckage of the island; and infected by that emotion, the other little boys began to shake and sob too. And in the middle of them, with filthy body, matted hair, and unwiped nose, Ralph wept for the end of innocence, the darkness of man’s heart, and the fall through the air of the true, wise friend called Piggy.
The officer, surrounded by these noises, was moved and a little embarrassed. He turned away to give them time to pull themselves together; and waited, allowing his eyes to rest on the trim cruiser in the distance.
In Britain the nanny state replaced parents in the 50 and 60s and we are seeing the results with each passing generation being less functioning and socialized. The same is happening to America and we are doing little to recognize it, much less stop it.
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