According to The Telegraph (see http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/europe/netherlands/3659670/Amsterdam-to-halve-shop-window-brothels-and-marijuana-cafes.html), Amsterdam is planning a crackdown on the sex trade and "coffee" shop culture in the city. While Dutch burghers may succeed in reducing the amount of vice, I somehow think they're on a hiding to nothing when it comes to wacky baccy. If my last visit in September was anything to go by, there's more being smoked there than at any time in living memory. A kind of all-pervasive haze of marijuana hung over the centre of town. You can't solve this kind of narcotic pollution through a few more police cars. It would take the equivalent of a Kyoto Treaty.
I've now studied the Special Constable poster in more detail (see blogs passim ) and can reveal the idea is even more complex and bizarre than I first thought. You'll recall that a Special is on some seedy looking street corner, just yards away from where a drug deal is in progress. He's keenly observing events and looks ready to take some kind of action. The copy says that Specials wear uniform and always have back-up. But this guy is on his own in plain clothes. Worrying. Perhaps he's off duty but just can't leave the policing thing alone? Once a part-time copper, always a part-time copper. But wait. There is back up. It comes in the form of the constable's own reflection in a puddle. If he took his eyes off the criminal activity for just a second and took the trouble to look down at his feet, he'd see that in Puddle Land, he is wearing a uniform and carrying a radio. There's enough material here to fill a semiotics seminar for a day. If I disco...
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