The Staffordshire Bull Terrier is just about the soppiest, most human-friendly breed of dog you can find. They are deeply lovable and loving animals, and intensely protective of their owners and their families. When making a fuss of them, though, you quickly become aware of the great knots of vibrant muscle packed around their enormous jaws: you really wouldn’t want to get your hand trapped in one of these things.
When owned by sensible, law-abiding people they pose no risk to anyone (except, perhaps, muggers or burglars). But when acquired by moronic thugs on council estates they can be turned into dangerous weapons (just as the hooded knuckle-draggers themselves were turned into dangerous weapons by the prevailing dependency culture and a “no blame, no shame” left-wing teaching establishment).
So, what does the government propose doing to stop the spread of violent attacks by dogs? Well – and you’ve probably already guessed this – they want to force respectable, law-abiding dog-owners to take out insurance to pay compensation for any attacks committed by their pets.
Priceless! Classic Labour strategy. They haven’t got a clue what to do about the underclass they’ve done so much to create – except to keep pointlessly shoveling vast amounts of our tax money into their maws in an effort to keep them quiet, while flooding the country with immigrants to do the low-grade jobs the underclass are too stupid, lazy and unincentivised to undertake.
So, reframe the problem in such a way that the answer becomes yet another stealth tax on existing taxpayers. Do this by pretending that some barely sentient, unemployable troglodyte leaving an extremely powerful, brutalized killing machine alone in a room or garden with a toddler, which it then savages, is somehow equivalent to Mrs. Suburban’s chihuahua giving the vicar a bit of a nip as he reaches for one chocolate hobnob too many.
Solving a non-existent problem while deliberately ignoring the real problem makes it look as if you’re actually doing something positive, while boosting your all-important equality-rating – you’re so deeply caring and compassionate and sensitive you would never, ever favour one socio-economic group over another: we’re all equal in the eyes of Big Brother.
Of course, Mrs. Suburbia will pay up to keep her little Pancho, because she knows the police (or, perhaps, the representatives of some vastly expensive new Dog Insurance Implementation Agency) will be only too happy to roar round to her place in a Panda car – kitted out with Kevlar vests, stun guns and semi-automatic weapons – to give Mrs. Suburban a bloody good fright and a hefty fine (ker-ching!) while impounding the illegally-owned pooch just to show the stuck-up, Tory-voting cow who’s boss, right?
Meanwhile, Cal (short for “Caliban”, by the way) will remain free to strut around his estate with Ripper (or Killer, or whatever the poor beast is called) with absolute impunity because the police – like the government – decided a long time ago that trying to protect law-abiding people on bad estates is too much like hard work.
And, to be fair, the strategy worked brilliantly for gun crime: law-abiding middle class people now have to crawl through barbed wire to get a license, while gun-toting hoodie thugs have turned sections of London and Manchester into Dodge City.
New Labour: it’s all about punishing the innocent.
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