There’s one problem. It’s Commiefornia, and thanks to Gavin *advertiser censored* Newsome, he defunded the police. It’s highly unlikely that he will face any charges let alone jail time. He could be out already getting ready to harass the same woman again (which is not beyond him) and yet with the police being defunded in Commiefornia, we can always hope the criminal element can make him a victim of violent crime. Which is something to hope for, and no I won’t apologize for it
I'll never understand how the leap was made from assault being considered assault when no injury occurs, and when simply touching something that someone is holding became considered assault.
For that matter, if you walk within 100 feet of someone, couldn't that be construed as assault? You're walking on ground in close enough contact to ground that he's standing on too and he may be able to feel the footsteps if sensitive enough. Isn't that the same as brushing up against someone's shirt sleeve being assault? You moved something that they felt with the vibrations of the ground from the feet contacting the ground.
And also, the air. What if you run past someone and they feel or sense the turbulence, the stream of air you left in you wake on their skin? Isn't that assault by the definition the police and frauditors seem to consider assault?
And then, when YOU can feel THEIR air stream, why isn't THAT assault?
How about foul odors? When you smell the stench coming off of one of the filthier frauditors, what you're smelling are physical PARTICLES in the air. These particles are ASSAULTING your olfactory receptors. Using the same logic that frauditors use in considering ANY contact on both the macro and micro level, isn't the exquisitely overpowering stench that emanates from these *advertiser censored* bu.....er', I mean "people", an assault on the senses?
And for the sake of argument, say you're sitting at a table at a sidewalk cafe and one of them saunters past. They linger, and then it hits you. Their aroma. It's bad. How bad? Bad enough to knock a buzzard right off of a *advertiser censored* wagon at 50 yards. And it clashes with the aroma of the sausage and peppers on your plate and makes you retch. You feel ill, stand up and intend to run for the bathroom but don't make it even a two steps before you projectile vomit in the direction of the next table. A stream of puke that Linda Blair would be in awe of. You cover everyone sitting at the next table, though minding their own business, with vomit, they're going to need pails of water and perhaps a hose to clean the mess. Now you've assaulted THEM. But wait? Is it your fault? Or the fault of the frauditor who hasn't bathed since the last time they went for a swim?
Something so simple as assault can be very complicated.