What is going on with this country these days. Corrupt cops, judges, attorneys, etc. I live in Minot, ND and the cops stick together with the judges and will do what they can to cover up anything and everything they do. Half the cops do drug busts, "marijuana" mostly and stick whatever they can away for their use later. And what happens to them? NOTHING!!! But we get busted with a pinchie and get a year in prison.. WHAT IS WRONG WITH THIS PICTURE!?

You always here how the law is cracking down on meth labs. Well in Perry County, Mississippi they only bust the meth labs that they are not benefiting from. In Richton, MS it is a well known fact that the oldest running meth lab is not fixing to stop any time soon. The whole community knows that Harry M Dykes has been cooking meth for 10 years in his back yard. Nobody seems to even care. You would be surprise just how this man is treated by the county Sheriff's Dept. and by the Judges. This mans son has told 3 different rehabs that his dad cooks meth and that is where he gets his meth from. The law has been called numerous times to his home for domestic disturbance. The officers respond and arrest the girlfriend, but never him. One officer has informed the girlfriend that it was ok for him to slap her in the face because she is at his house. The sheriff dont say a word about any of this because he is related to the meth cook. How can someone get away with cooking meth for all these years while the community, the law and judges all just pretend that they dont have a clue. The sheriff and most of the officers will even acknowledge that they know Harry is cooking dope in his back yard. The only thing ever said about him is that he dont sell the dope he just trades it for my ingredients to make more. Is it me or does this seem extremly messed up. Its ok to cook meth just as long as you dont sell meth. Am I wrong thinking that trading or selling either way should not be tolerated. Either way its supplying the meth to the meth addicts and keeping the drugs in the community. Is this really ok with everyone? How long will the community turn their head and pretend that this does not go on right here in front of anyone and everyone. Is this what we want to be known for? "It's ok to cook meth just as long as you dont sell it, but its ok to trade it for more ingredients"!

can someone tell me just how many swat raids are fouled up each year in the usa wrong address wrong person right person who is clean ect and how many die

http://www.cato.org/raidmap/

On Thursday, October 25, 2001 at approximately 8:45 pm our rights to provide a safe and secure environment for our family were rudely taken away.

It was a particularly pleasant evening at our house that night. Dinner and dishes done, homework assignments completed, no TV or radios on; just nice and cozy. My seven-year-old son and I had pulled an extra chair up to the desk, and were playing a game on the computer. We had been playing for maybe five or ten minutes, when the doorbell rang (our backs were toward the front door). I was not even completely out of my chair yet when I heard, “Hey!” Obviously, someone had opened my front door and let themselves in. As I finished turning toward the door, I was flabbergasted to see four (4) uniformed officers, with guns drawn and bullet proof vests on; not only in our house, but within two feet of my son and me. This is when the officer closest to us shouted, “Parole search!”

I was stunned. My mind was racing, trying to find some data that would somehow associate my world with the situation before me. There was none. That same person then yelled directly at me, “Where’s Mike!”

I asked, “Who?”

He responded, “Mike Meyers!” I was confused, and told him that I did not know anyone by that name. With a somewhat sarcastic tone he said to me, “Isn’t this 2113?”

“No. This is 2008,” I said in total disbelief.

At this point, there was some murmuring between officers as they strolled out of my house. Not another word was said to us; NOT EVEN good-bye. No one thought to give my son a wink, pat on the head or any kind of reassurance. You would think someone could have said something like, “Sorry little buddy, hope we didn’t mess up your game,” or something like that.

They walked out the door without even looking back at us. I was worried about going to the open door (not knowing what in the world was going on), but I had to - if I wanted to shut it. That is when I saw that there were even more officers outside of our house. They were all over our property. The main guy that had been shouting the questions was still standing on our front porch; his back to our door, looking down the walkway and driveway. Loudly he said, “What is the number here?” A Modesto Police officer at the end of the driveway answered perfectly, “It’s right over your head.” That’s right! If he had been an inch and a half taller, he probably would have had to duck under the hanging plaque with our address numbers on it. Not to mention, we have nice, newly painted numbers on the curb in front of our house.

After basically just turning around and walking away, without even so much as a “good-bye,” they felt free to leave all of their vehicles in front of our house for an additional hour and 15 minutes. Naturally, my son was intensely focused on the fact that they were “still out there somewhere,” and wondering if there were “bad guys” out there too.

Being the eternal optimist that I am, I gave them the benefit of the doubt; thinking, “Well, they are right in the middle of a potentially dangerous situation. I’m sure after they are done, someone will stop by to apologize and maybe even offer some kind of explanation.” They did have to come right back to my house to get their cars, after all. Sadly, I was mistaken; and this at a time when our children needed to be inspired about our country, its philosophies and our government agencies that are supposed to protect and ensure that those philosophies are lived out. Instead, my son was left fearful. I had to sleep with him that night, and many after that. His routine was totally disrupted.

If I had to choose one word to best describe the way I was left feeling, it would be “BETRAYED.”

At our house, we do not allow playing with any toy guns (not even squirt guns). We do not even let kids pretend to have guns with their fingers, because guns are serious business and children do not have the maturity, judgment or discipline required to even pretend to be shooting firearms. And even though my son was prohibited from “gun play,” he had just told me three days earlier that when he grew up he wanted to be a fireman, a police officer and a soldier. To think, that there are men and women overseas fighting for our country. Fighting to protect us from this kind of treatment. To preserve our rights to have a door that no one walks through, unless invited. The right to control the environment our children are raised in . . . at least in our own home. It had only been a little over a year since our security was rocked in our community by the shooting of an eleven year old child; sleepy eyed, tousled hair, lying face down on the floor, complying with every order shouted to him by our so called “protectors.”
It is very hard for me to understand this kind of incompetence, especially considering the positions they hold (not to mention, the weapons that they hold). At the least, I expect them to have verified, confirmed and checked with another officer, regarding the address numbers. When I have an evening appointment, or maybe an interview the following day, especially when I have never been there before, I literally map out a route, and if possible, drive past the location in order to locate and confirm the address. I do that so I do not have any problems being timely or lost. It is plain old COMMON SENSE! If you don’t have any, I certainly do not want you anywhere near my children with loaded weapons in your possession.

I complained . . . without result. Did I fear retaliation? Yes I did. However, I felt it was my duty as a citizen to report and complain about the incompetence of those that we pay with our tax dollars. If the person before me does not speak up, I do not speak up and the one after me does not speak up; we are just opening the door for much worse “accidents” to happen.