“One in Every 2,000 New York Cops Is a Corpse-Robbing Hophead!”

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Item: CROOKED-COP CASES SURGE!

Meanwhile, back in New York City, the New York Post advises us to be alarmed!

Very, very alarmed!

Because the cops are crookeder than ever!

And stoned out of their minds!

NYPD’S TOP-SECRET CORRUPTION REPORT OFFERS A LOOK INSIDE THE RANK AND VILE!

THE number of NYPD cops using drugs, stealing property — even from the dead — and committing other acts of corruption, including extorting sex from female suspects, spiked sharply last year, according to a confidential NYPD report.

Astonishing wrongdoing!

The astonishing wrongdoing included everything from cops soliciting sex in exchange for overlooking crimes to stealing credit cards from the homes of dead people to hiring a hit man to commit murder.

Armies of corpse-plundering cops roam our streets, armed with shotguns and hungry for brains!

Here’s a good case study for the Numbers Guy at the W$J to deconstruct — except that now, of course, the Numbers Guy and this idiot at the New York Post have the same boss:

The number of cops caught using drugs last year jumped 138 percent, from eight incidents the previous year to 19, including one cop using PCP (phencyclidine), and another shooting steroids into his butt.

Startling leap from 8 to 19 cases of “cops caught using drugs”!

The NYPD has nearly 38,000 personnel.

Proposed headline:

One in Every 2,000 New York Cops Is an Accused Substance-Abuser!

Which begs any number of questions, of course.

What, for example, is the incidence of drug use among the non-cop population?

How do the two populations compare?

Is there a disparity?

Is that disparity explained by external factors, such as that cops are less likely to be drug users than the general population for professional reasons?

In other words, how good is the NYPD at busting cops who use drugs?

What methods does it use to identify such officers? Do they work well? Are they catching all of the stoned cops they should be catching? Are they doing a good job of not hiring people who get stoned? And so on.

Underlying the whole gabbling shtick, meanwhile, is an all-too-familiar form of mathemagical nonsense, in which we are to assume that the number of reported cases of this sort of conduct is the same thing as actual incidence of the conduct.

Perception is reality, in other words.

As President-General Figueiredo said, “If the Globo network’s nightly newscast does not report it, it never happened.”

The story advertises “an inside look at the top-secret IAB report,” but in fact is cobbled together from various sources:

The Post pieced together the accounts using sources, court records and district attorneys’ offices, along with the tightly guarded annual IAB study.

Apparently not tightly guarded enough.

And how did the Post get a copy, anway?

I have never forgiven, nor likely will I ever forgive, the Post for its gabblingly alarmist RUBBER BABY-BUGGY BOMBERS headline during a terrorist alert on the NYC transit system a couple of years ago.

Stupid gabbling is stupid gabbling, but that bullshit could have gotten a lot of people panicked and hurt. I was riding the subway to work that day, myself. Just like every day.

The Post went and changed the headline and cover line on its Web site later that day, I recall — without acknowledging the change. As the NYPD and mayor, explained, the “baby buggy” hypothesis was one of those “terrorist chatter” memes that was probably nonsense but had to be checked out, in an abundance of caution.

The cops were perfectly well organized and polite that day, I thought. My commute, at any rate, was perfectly normal, as I recall.

But the Post‘s  morning edition plastered all over the city had already gotten the sleazy, fear-mongering message across.

Jerkoffs. I make a point of pretending to spit on this sleazy rag everytime I see it on sale.

Personally, in fact, I am all for immediately deporting all Australian nationals working for this company, and possibly even breaking off diplomatic relations with the Aussies, over this sort of thing. Kiss ANZAC goodbye. Build your own freaking nuclear umbrella, cobber. Or else start learning to say “I, for one, welcome our new Maoist overlords” in Mandarin.

I am exaggerating for effect, of course. But still.

And the kangaroo these people rode in on.

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