ellauri051.html on line 725: 160 The excited crowd, the policeman with his star quickly working his passage Väki innostuu: tappelu! seriffi tähtineen kiirehtää
ellauri051.html on line 862: 280 The machinist rolls up his sleeves, the policeman travels his beat, the gate-keeper marks who pass, 280 Konemies käärii hihat, poliisi kulkee lyöntinsä, portinvartija merkitsee ohikulkevat,
ellauri101.html on line 542: Puhler = Polizist (policeman)
ellauri119.html on line 456: Hippo of Augustine thought the holy ghost was the gluon that kept the other two quarks together, top and bottom, strange and charm, bad and good policeman. love is another attractive force, if you will. May the force be with you, but never underestimate the power of the dark side of the force. Under his eyes. May the lord open. "The dystopian drama has exceeded the natural lifespan of its story, as it plows forward with nothing new to say, tinkling cymbals and sounding brass." "There came a point during the first episode where, for me, it became too much." Lisa Miller of The Cut wrote: "I have pressed mute and fast forward so often this season, I am forced to wonder: 'Why am I watching this'? It all feels so gratuitous, like a beating that never ends."
ellauri142.html on line 53: At the opening of the novel, Markku is a young man who has recently returned to Russia to seek a career after completing his education abroad. Although a well-meaning, kind hearted young man, he is awkward and out of place in the Russian high society in whose circles he starts to move. Markku, though intelligent, is not dominated by reason, as his friend Prince Andrei Nikolayevich Balkongsky is. His lack of direction leads him to fall in with a group of profligate young men like Anatole Kuragin and Dolokhov whose pranks and heavy drinking cause mild scandals. After a particularly outrageous escapade in which a policeman is strapped to the back of a bear and thrown into a river, Markku is sent away from St. Petersburg. What happened to the poor bear?
ellauri236.html on line 200: The thing that the ordinary reader ought to have objected to — almost certainly would have objected to, a few decades earlier — was the equivocal attitude towards crime. It is implied throughout No Orchids that being a criminal is only reprehensible in the sense that it does not pay. Being a policeman pays better, but there is no moral difference, since the police use essentially criminal methods. In a book like He Won't Need It Now the distinction between crime and crime-prevention practically disappears. This is a new departure for English sensational fiction, in which till recently there has always been a sharp distinction between right and wrong and a general agreement that virtue must triumph in the last chapter. English books glorifying crime (modern crime, that is — pirates and highwaymen are different) are very rare. Even a book like Raffles, as I have pointed out, is governed by powerful taboos, and it is clearly understood that Raffles's crimes must be expiated sooner or later. In America, both in life and fiction, the tendency to tolerate crime, even to admire the criminal so long as he is success, is very much more marked. It is, indeed, ultimately this attitude that has made it possible for crime to flourish upon so huge a scale. Books have been written about Al Capone that are hardly different in tone from the books written about Henry Ford, Stalin, Lord Northcliffe and all the rest of the ‘log cabin to White House’ brigade. And switching back eighty years, one finds Mark Twain adopting much the same attitude towards the disgusting bandit Slade, hero of twenty-eight murders, and towards the Western desperadoes generally. They were successful, they ‘made good’, therefore he admired them.
ellauri236.html on line 202: In a book like No Orchids one is not, as in the old-style crime story, simply escaping from dull reality into an imaginary world of action. One's escape is essentially into cruelty and sexual perversion. No Orchids is aimed at the power-instinct, which Raffles or the Sherlock Holmes stories are not. At the same time the English attitude towards crime is not so superior to the American as I may have seemed to imply. It too is mixed up with power-worship, and has become more noticeably so in the last twenty years. A writer who is worth examining is Edgar Wallace, especially in such typical books as The Orator and the Mr. J. G. Reeder stories. Wallace was one of the first crime-story writers to break away from the old tradition of the private detective and make his central figure a Scotland Yard official. Sherlock Holmes is an amateur, solving his problems without the help and even, in the earlier stories, against the opposition of the police. Moreover, like Lupin, he is essentially an intellectual, even a scientist. He reasons logically from observed fact, and his intellectuality is constantly contrasted with the routine methods of the police. Wallace objected strongly to this slur, as he considered it, on Scotland Yard, and in several newspaper articles he went out of his way to denounce Holmes by name. His own ideal was the detective-inspector who catches criminals not because he is intellectually brilliant but because he is part of an all-powerful organization. Hence the curious fact that in Wallace's most characteristic stories the ‘clue’ and the ‘deduction’ play no part. The criminal is always defeated by an incredible coincidence, or because in some unexplained manner the police know all about the crime beforehand. The tone of the stories makes it quite clear that Wallace's admiration for the police is pure bully-worship. A Scotland Yard detective is the most powerful kind of being that he can imagine, while the criminal figures in his mind as an outlaw against whom anything is permissible, like the condemned slaves in the Roman arena. His policemen behave much more brutally than British policemen do in real life — they hit people with out provocation, fire revolvers past their ears to terrify them and so on — and some of the stories exhibit a fearful intellectual sadism. (For instance, Wallace likes to arrange things so that the villain is hanged on the same day as the heroine is married.) But it is sadism after the English fashion: that is to say, it is unconscious, there is not overtly any sex in it, and it keeps within the bounds of the law. The British public tolerates a harsh criminal law and gets a kick out of monstrously unfair murder trials: but still that is better, on any account, than tolerating or admiring crime. If one must worship a bully, it is better that he should be a policeman than a gangster. Wallace is still governed to some extent by the concept of ‘not done’. In No Orchids anything is ‘done’ so long as it leads on to power. All the barriers are down, all the motives are out in the open. Chase is a worse symptom than Wallace, to the extent that all-in wrestling is worse than boxing, or Fascism is worse than capitalist democracy.
ellauri243.html on line 45: The policeman pulled out his gun and shouted, "Freeze!"

ellauri257.html on line 573: Lodge had endorsed a clairvoyant medium known as "Annie Brittain". However, she made entirely incorrect guesses about a policeman who was disguised as a farmer. She was arrested and convicted for fraudulent fortune telling.
ellauri301.html on line 100: The extraordinary global success of Swedish and later Norwegian crime fiction as a form of escapist literature for men had several causes. One is that police work is one of the last wholly unionised jobs in the world, so that our hero will never be sacked for anything other than gross misconduct – of which he, being the hero, is never really guilty. In the optimistic 60s, James Bond was distinguished from other middle-aged men by his licence to kill but by the 90s the policeman as a fantasy hero had a licence to keep his job. In the economic whirlwind of globalisation, this was something that a lot of frustrated middle-aged men could only dream of.
xxx/ellauri075.html on line 520: As a gay man at a time when homosexual practices were illegal for men in Britain, Walpole conducted a succession of intense but discreet relationships with other men, and was for much of his life in search of what he saw as "the perfect friend". He eventually found one, a married policeman, with whom he settled in the English Lake District. All is well that ends well.
xxx/ellauri149.html on line 374: Tim Rice said Jesus was seen through Judas' eyes as a mere human being. Some Christians found this remark, as well as the fact that the musical did not show the resurrection, to be blasphemous. Jesus var ingen Spartakus, för helvete. While the actual resurrection was not shown, the closing scene of the movie subtly alludes to the resurrection (though, according to Jewison's commentary on the DVD release, the scene was not planned this way). Some found Judas too sympathetic; in the film, it states that he wants to give the thirty pieces of silver to the poor, which, although Biblical, leaves out his ulterior motives. According to the black policeman in Whitstaple Pearl, ulterior motives usually means sex. The policeman is as talkative as John, and the detective cook lady looks a lot like Kirsi Riski. Not a comfortable thought.
xxx/ellauri168.html on line 91: A very few could really believe in a bi-polar new order of U.S. power and United Nations moral authority, the first as global policeman, the second as global judge and jury. The order would be collectivist in which decisions and responsibility would be shared. LOL. Pat Buchanan predicted that the Persian Gulf War would in fact be the demise of the new world order, the concept of United Nations peacekeeping and the U.S.´s role as global policeman. How ridiculous! U.S. can perfectly well server as policeman, judge, jury, and henchman in one person. In fact, the deeper reality of the new world order was the U.S. emergence "as the single greatest power in a multipolar world".
xxx/ellauri230.html on line 280: While at the college, Koo once rode a bicycle down the streets of Shanghai into the International Settlement and followed an English boy also riding a bicycle onto the sidewalk, where an Indian policeman allowed the English boy to continue while stopping Koo to give him a fine for riding his bicycle on the sidewalk. Koo was shocked to discover that owing to extraterritoriality, the laws and rules that applied to Chinese in China did not apply to British subjects-in this instance laws prohibiting riding a bicycle on the sidewalk - and that a foreign policeman had power over the Chinese police. Koo was left with a lifelong desire to end the status of extraterritoriality that had been imposed by the 19th century "unequal treaties".
xxx/ellauri268.html on line 544: He is credited with tracking down Austrian policeman Karl Silberbauer in 1963. Silberbauer, acting during World War II as a Gestapo officer, was responsible for arresting Anne Frank — who later died in a concentration camp after leaving behind a now-famous diary documenting her time in hiding. Wiesenthal also helped ferret out other Nazi leaders in hiding, including Franz Murer, known as “The Butcher of Vilnius,” and Erich Rajakowitsch, according to his website.
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