The only good policeman is a dead one,
The only good laws aren't enforced.
— A long time ago, I was in Burma... and my friends and I were working for the local government. They were trying to buy the loyalty of tribal leaders... by bribing them with precious stones... but their caravans were being raided in a forest north of Rangoon by a bandit. So we went looking for the stones. But in six months, we never met anyone who traded with him. One day, I saw a child playing with a ruby... the size of a tangerine. The bandit had been throwing them away.
— So why steal them?
— Because he thought it was good sport. Because some men aren't looking for anything logical, like money. They can't be bought, bullied, reasoned or negotiated with. Some men just wanna watch the world burn.
You know what I noticed? Nobody panics when things go "according to plan." Even if the plan is horrifying. If tomorrow I tell the press that, like, a gangbanger will get shot... or a truckload of soldiers will be blowing up... nobody panics. Because it's all part of the plan. But when I say that one little old mayor will die... well, then, everyone loses their minds. Introduce a little anarchy... upset the established order... and everything becomes chaos. I'm an agent of chaos. Oh, and you know the thing about chaos? It's fair.