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Tuesday, August 03, 2004

Spray-painted on the fence in the alley behind work:



To which I have to ask: What other kinds of whores are there?

Eh. Probably the name of a band or some fucking thing. Although, the local hooker does a brisk trade in the alley, specifically in the back doorway of my shop. The doorway that I use as my ingress & exit every morning and evening. Nothing like high-stepping over last night's used condoms on my way into the joy of work.

And then today, one of my guy's informs that said hooker is passed out in the doorway (he went to kick it open to let in some air), dressed up like a cheerleader or some fucking thing. He did the small interrogation ("Hey, you okay?" "M'okay...can I sit here?" "Uh, yeah, just don't cause any problems...") and then filled me in. I go to check this shit out, find she's gained a guardian (semi-Rasta; dreds, beard, cap. Two pairs of headphones for some reason, one overlapping the other; is that some deal that I haven't heard of?), who tells me "She's just going through her hell, man." Which, y'know, seems pretty apt for anything that causes you to voluntarily lay down in a condom-strewn doorway. Asked if they needed an ambulance, paramedics, etc. Nah, nah.

And so I pretty much forget about 'em until the end of the day, when I find myself heading out the back with a couple of my guys (which never, never happens; usually my guys go out the front before I lock up, and I make my way out into the world all alone) and we have to push our way past 'em. The guy's awake enough for me to give them a warning about the security guy that patrols the alley (small bullshit, but, hey, I don't wanna kick 'em awake tomorrow morning), which got me a grin and that knuckle-punch handshake thing. Dunno why a Rasta guy would give a big fat shaved-head white guy a grin and a knuckle-punch, but, hey. It's the kinda shit that happens, right?

Right. That's pretty much it for the day. Another trillion 13-year girls on the bus home, but at least there was an open seat in the back. Finished FEAR AND LOATHING ON THE CAMPAIGN TRAIL, '72, and I have to suggest. Quite honestly, I was ready to cry at the end. It scares me that the issues in that election are so close to those in this election, and that Nixon won by such a landslide. That's not the best of precedents, truly. Also, I have to wonder how many swing voters are being swung by the double barrels of terror warnings based on 3 & 4-year-old information, and Dennis Hasert's book (which presents the idea that the Republicans want to dissolve the IRS & the Fed income tax and replace it with a national sales tax), both of which were conveniently timed to coincide with the end of the Democratic National Convention, thereby washing away news of the Demos in the major markets.

The interesting thing is that it seems (to me, anyway, although I'm becoming more attuned to the naked posturing of the Republicans; still neutral on the Dems, however. Call it a bias), is that it almost seems as though the distractions are becoming multi-layered. To wit: the terror warnings are issued on the last day of the DNC, right (or right after...can't recall now) ? Right. And we've gotten used to Bush propping Tom Ridge up on a podium every time the shit gets a bit thick. So we kind of ignore him, although Bloomberg is more than happy to go rushing his cops all over NYC (but I think he just gets off on the idea of armed men running to and fro at his command). BUT, at the same time, Hasert announces the release of his book, with the afore-mentioned IRS dissolvement thingee (which, I think, comes down to a theory that Hasert is claiming as his own, about how simple it would be to eliminate the income tax and replace it with a national sales tax or a value-added tax [A consumption tax which is levied at each stage of production based on the value added to the product at that stage -- according to investorwords.com], which would provide plenty of funding for a stripped-down Conservative-style government without all those Cadillac-driving Welfare mothers and artsy-fartsy types living off of NEA grants), which isn't EVER going to happen, but it puts the idea -- WOW! No income tax! -- into the minds of the swing voters.

WOW! No income tax! Yeah, right, but Bush picks up an extra three or four percent of the drooling troglydytes out there who believe this kind election-year posturing and, coupled with the corrupted Florida vote, slides him into the White House for four years of serious evil-doing. And when the droolers ask what happened to the no-income-tax deal, Bush just smiles and says, "Hey, that was the Speaker of the House, not me." A grin, a backslap, maybe a quick ass-fucking for the sheer fun of it, and it's off to Crawford.

And nobody can put him in the wrong, although he'll get the gains. Very artful; exceedingly clever. Karl Rove had a real stroke of genius on that one.

Right. That's it for the nonce. I'm for outs & sleep. Have a good'n, kids.



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