(no subject)
A swath of blood is smeared across the door to my apartment building where the medics escorted my neighbor after the police shot him for resisting arrest. Despite a restraining order, he returned at 1:30 a.m. in an angry mood to demand custody of his daughter from the ex-girlfriend who fled her apartment to make a frantic phone call to the police that I had no choice but to hear, as it was 1:30 a.m. and she was screaming almost as loudly as her former beau who repeatedly bellowed "She's my fucking daughter!" about their small girl, who was also screaming even as the police arrived and carried her downstairs to safety. The gunshot was unmistakable, and evidently only partially effectual until blood loss overtook him, along with the painkillers, and more blankets were called in by the growing number of uniformed officers. He was carried downstairs in a kind of wheelchair, handcuffed with neck loose and head lolling from the drugs.
No matter how many pushups completed or miles run or deleterious beliefs challenged, one can be easily incapacitated by a dissolute indulgence in primitive diplomacy.
A chief quality of the insulated life is an ability to watch movies like a mofo: Cache, Manufacturing Consent, Apocalypto, Soldiers in the Army of God, Happy Feet, Uncovered: The War in Iraq, The Notorious Bettie Page, Breakfast at Tiffany's.
No matter how many pushups completed or miles run or deleterious beliefs challenged, one can be easily incapacitated by a dissolute indulgence in primitive diplomacy.
A chief quality of the insulated life is an ability to watch movies like a mofo: Cache, Manufacturing Consent, Apocalypto, Soldiers in the Army of God, Happy Feet, Uncovered: The War in Iraq, The Notorious Bettie Page, Breakfast at Tiffany's.