Because it’s been such a hot topic lately (and you dumbfucks have been inundating my inbox with all of the same stupid questions), here’s a piece I wrote about four years ago:
On “Independence” Day.
So, a new first in my life. My first ever stop at a DUI Checkpoint.
For those of you that have never heard of them, a DUI checkpoint—one of the many fascist brainchilden of MADD (Mothers And Dumbfuck Democrats)—is a streetside roadblock where cops stop drivers and give them a once over to determine if they might be drunk. They stop every car on the road, tap on your window, wave a flashlight in your eyes, and say, “Have you been drinking tonight?” If they suspect insobriety, they pull your car over and force you to submit to a breathalyzer. (Well, they don’t put a gun to your head, but the alternative is a trip down to County. So, some “choice.”)
Incidentally, allow me to bring up the point that DUI/DWI should not be a crime in the first place. This, as a lawyer, is something that really gets under my skin. Ask yourself, “What is the harm in someone driving under the influence? How do we justify punishment for an act that harms no one?” Now, since I know the rusty hamster wheel that is your brain is spinning, let me go ahead and address the case in which a drunk driver hurts someone’s person/property. By all means, aggravate the charge. Allow it to be a factor in sentencing guidelines. Make the penalty for drunk vehicular manslaughter three times as harsh as the penalty for sober vehicular manslaughter. Really throw the book at them. But for the drunk who drives home without incident, who harms no one, who endangers no one, who you probably didn’t even know was drunk—what wrong has he committed? Who has he unjustly harmed? Whose rights has he wrongfully deprived? How can you justify punishing him (especially to the extent that DUI’s are punished) when he’s committed no wrong?
DUI is one of the major socialist/paternalistic laws. It’s a major step in the socialist movement to control people—by punishing them for having done nothing wrong. Happy f-ing Independence Day.
You might compare it to speeding, or any other number of paternalistic “preventantive” laws—but that’s a logical fallacy (ie. if you say, “Well, then why should speeding be illegal?” I’ll just come right back at you and say, “Yes, why should speeding be illegal?”). It ignores the principle. How do you justify punishing someone who has harmed no one? You can’t compare it to inchoate crimes either, because every inchoate offense requires intent—which certainly does not exist for any drunk driver. So why do we punish people for the mere “crime” of driving drunk, unless that drunk driver actually harms someone?
Anyway, like most Americans on Independence Day, I spent the better part of the day at a BBQ. We grilled up chicken (my homemade marinade!) and burgers and shrimp and carne asada, we played in the pool, we chatted about this and that, we lit off a few bottle rockets and roman candles, and, of course, we imbibed alcohol. So, around 10:30pm I decide to head home. I knew I wasn’t drunk, I knew I was fine to drive, so I hopped in my car and started driving. As I came off the highway and got into city streets, I encountered a DUI checkpoint.
I pulled my car up to the roadblock and Officer Corruption came up to my window. Tap tap tap. Flashlight in my eyes, “Sir, have you been drinking tonight?”
So, me, being the cop-hating authority challenger I am, looked at the man square and said, “Pssh. So much for Independence Day, eh Starsky?”
“Sir, I’ll need you to pull over. Now.”
Now, I already knew I was golden. Yeah, I’d had a few drinks—probably six beers and a margarita over the course of eight hours. But I always know when I’m solid enough to drive (even when I’m knowingly “over the limit.” 0.08 is not “incapable of driving”). And, not being an idiot and knowing my civil rights, I immediately said, “I will not consent to any sobriety tests except a PBT.”
FYI, free legal advice: never consent to a sobriety test. Especially if you know you’re drunk. And, in the case where you know you’re not drunk (and be judicious), never consent to a subjective sobriety test (eg. touch your nose, walk in a straight line, follow my pen, count to 30, etc.). If you’re going to do a sobriety test, make them use the machine. All cops are corrupt liars (“good cop” is an oxymoron), and they’ll all conclude you’re drunk off of a subjective test. I’ve read enough police reports in my day to know that they’re forms. On any DUI, they all say the same exact thing. “Glassy eyes. Stagger. Slurred words. Smell of alcohol.” All cops fill out DUI reports exactly the same—whether it was the truth or not (because good luck contesting them on it). Force them to deal with a digital readout. Don’t let some prick’s opinion convict you. Make them fight against a computer. And if they’re really getting hostile, I recommend the Four Brothers approach: respond to anything they say with an insinuation that you’re fucking his wife.
Anyway, the pig didn’t have his PBT handy so he had to call over to another cop to get it from his car. In the mean time, I read him the riot act. “I can’t help but appreciate the irony in this. The utter fascism you’re engaging in on a day when this country celebrates its independence.” “Tell me, Officer, what do you think of this fascist procedure?” “Gee, Officer, I can’t help but wonder how independent I am right now. Am I free to leave? No? No?” “Is this because I’m black?” “Hey, Officer, is this for the ‘greater good’?” “Officer, can you please speak into my cell phone memo recorder what your ‘reasonable suspicion’ is for this unjust deprivation of my 4th Amendment rights?” “Hey, Officer, do you realize that by working tonight, you’re defying the entire principle behind the holiday we’re supposed to be celebrating?” “Thank you, Sir, for your fascist and paternalistic prevention of me driving straight home on the off-chance that I might be drunk.” “You know, when the founding fathers wrote the Constitution, I doubt they envisioned a bunch of tin stars randomly harassing citizens in hopes of finding them guilty of a crime.”
Yeah, I’m a prick like that. Fuck cops. I actually kind of get off on antagonizing them—by making them defend the unjust bullshit they’re perpetuating. You know, the funny thing is, if I were actually drunk, I probably wouldn’t have been able to come up with all that on the fly.
So, at this point, he’s holding his flashlight a little menacingly—giving me a glare like none other. He walks back towards my car. I could tell he was about one more smart-ass remark from hitting me—an act I anticipated and I turned on my dome lights and my cell phone video recorder, just in case (because how aweseome would that have been?). And before he can say anything, I tuck my business card into the seams between my window and I lock eyes with him.
Of course, after that, Officer Corruption didn’t dare say a word.
Finally, much to his relief I’m sure, another pig shows up with the PBT. I blow a 0.03, and he says, with a sneer, “OK sir, you’re free to go.”
No apology. No prostrating himself for the unjust deprivation of my rights, my freedom, my independence. I scoffed at him and said, “Mmm, ‘I’m free to go.’ Thank you so much for granting me the freedom I should have had in the first place. Happy Independence Day to you too, asshole.”
When I was telling my mother this, she got upset. “Why would you try to get yourself arrested?” she asked. Well, A) they couldn’t arrest me. I had broken no law. But more importantly, B) it’s important to challenge this kind of fascism. Granted, Officer Corruption isn’t the one making the rules, and it’s not really fair to take it out on him. But what else are you going to do? Sure, I might have been tilting at windmills—one guy vs. one cop who is acting upon an ideology he’s told to enforce. But what’s the alternative? The alternative is just rolling over for it. So, you know what, sorry to the guy whose life I make hell—but I’m going to make your job as hard as possible. Why? Because fuck you, and fuck the ideology you’re enforcing. If they had any integrity, when their superior and their government say, “enforce this law,” they’d throw down their badge and say, “No.” (Incidentally, I do the same thing to TSA folks. God forbid you’re the poor schmuck that scans my bag at an airport. Everytime I fly, I check the TSA website to see what kind of stuff I can slide past them. But if Joe TSA doesn’t have the integrity to not to the unjust job he’s commanded, to hell with him. What can he do, arrest me? Lawsuit city. The one thing they’re desperately trying to avoid.)
She also made the argument that I wasted 20 minutes arguing with the asshole when I could have just complied and been on my way. I’ll tell you what I told her: compliance is exactly what they want. They want you to accept that it’s “routine” and “natural” and shouldn’t be argued with. They want you to become complacent. Because, as any colonial plantation owner will tell you: a willing slave is much easier to control than a rebellious one.
It just makes me sick—to see this world we live in. We celebrate “Independence Day”—but how? By putting up roadblocks in hopes of randomly catching someone in the course of a crime? A “crime” that shouldn’t even be a crime in the first place? I mean, good god man—how utterly fascist is that? What the fuck is wrong with the world, where this kind of travesty can occur in “the land of the free” on the one day when we place special emphasis on our “independence?”
It’s wrong. Everything about it is wrong.
