Wednesday, March 25, 2009


Manhunt. Who doesn’t love a good manhunt? I’m thinking all the way back to John Wilkes Booth, Pretty Boy the hunt is on for Curt Laskowski, and the rest of the world stops. It’s an excuse to talk about something that isn’t happening but will be interesting when it does, except that when it does the story will be over. Ain’t that a bitch? And it’s an excuse to devote bandwidth to something other than all that depressing shit coming out of the Dust Bowl II, and the water sloshing over the Gulf Coast, and the crushing of the movements in the desert Southwest. I mean, who wants to talk about real intractable problems like the insufficiency of currency in a truly globalized and truly virtual market, when you can talk about whether the LAPD had flushed Curt Laskowski out of the Wi-Free in Koreatown? Hell, I don’t. Believe me, I love the trivial, the exploitative, the voyeuristic and the reprehensible. Every once in a while I lose track of myself and talk about something relevant, but that isn’t me. I don’t give a shit about the Issues of the Day, or the Problems of Civilization and Humankind. I can’t. Because I can’t fix it, I don’t know the people who can, and all I can do is take care of the people near and dear to me. If I am kind to people I meet on the corner, if I love and am loved, if I teach my children and minister to my elders, the rest of the world can burn.

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