12,145. RUDIMENTS, pt. 822

RUDIMENTS, pt. 822

(take a look around you)

I always felt that when a

person says something

derogatory about another

person, actually what they're

doing is telling something

about themselves. It was

always apparent to me,

and it's a good detective

trick too, to find out about

others' heads. Like just today,

there was a female politician

of long-standing and disgusting

regard, who piped about about

another that 'He's running a

political extortion ring,' and I

won't get into the rest of it

here, but the person speaking

that little nugget has been

 part of a 30-year political

extortion ring herself, and

has never owned up to a

damned part of it. So; what

do you get from that? Truth,

Justice, and the American way.

I guess. When you go around 

reading detective stuff you can

 pick up a lot of strange nuggets.

Like about liars. When a person

is lying, it is said, there's a visible

pulse, if you know how to watch

for it, at the area of their jawline

and ear, just under the ear.

They have dry lips, and tend to

look away, avoiding a direct eye

contact. Of course, a good liar

who's aware of all this can avoid

a few traits, but the pulse, and the

dry lips, they get pretty obvious.

It's also sort of the opposite of that

old Sicilian 'evil eye' thing, so in

whichever way this runs, the

truth's maybe there somewhere.

-

In NYC, I watched the cops; to

see how they did things, what 

sorts of reactions they had. There

are a lot of differences between

then and now  -  back in '68, all

things were sterner, almost

fascistic  -  police, police tactics,

protesters, the war stuff. That
street-authoritarianism was
done differently than today's,
which is done peculiarly and has
has different feel and color. And,
unfortunately, has all the dupes
and unwitting ignoramus citizens
simply acquiescing. It's like an
Avenel knife-dream: now the nasty
playgrounds have soft-surface areas,
so the dumb parents won't hurt
their own nasty hearts. Cops back
then were always hard-assed career

men, with one thing on their 

minds - suspicion. Of everything.

Now, there are little cops, small

people, female, weak-knee'd

guys always on their phones.

I've seen detail cops stand in

one place for 4 hours, probably 

at 70 bucks an hour, on their

phone, staring down, looking

at a screen  -  no regard at all

for what's going on, around 

them, or even adjacent to them.

I've known two cops over the

years, fairly well. One guy was

a 42nd street detail street-cop;

at it for years. Nice guy, but

never too involved; just wanted

his first out, after 20 years or

whatever it was; cared for little,

though he did say he could tell

me some things he'd seen that

would curl my hair. He's out

now. And another guy, the

opposite  -  intense, wiry,

ready at all times for the take

down. Undercover. Surveillance.

Task forces. Had a completely

different approach. Retired to

Breezy Point (a cop-community

of retirees) just in time for the

whole community to get blown

away by a Hurricane  -  Sandy  -

and then burned to the ground

as the winds and open gas lines

started a fire. So many lost so

much.

-

Tough stories are everywhere.

Female stories too. I could tell,

but why bother. People used to

live like rats and dogs, homeless

but with stop-gap homes in

underground crevices and

passageways, beneath ramps 

behind subway stops and track 

turns  -  all those dead corners

of things you can sometimes see. 

These people were sometimes

vicious and brutal, but not always,

and they most often only came

out at night; their spaces and

beddings were never disturbed. 

The darkness was safe for them.

There was a strict protocol about

place and space  -  until someone

went mad. Going at others with

a machete. Or dousing them with

gasoline as they slept, and lighting

them up. It was crazy. At the 79th

Street Boat Basin area, in the 70's

anyway, there was a community of

complete wackos living in the

tunnels and abandoned (closed)

ramp exits of the Henry Hudson

Highway area  -  trees, shrubbery,

granite slabs, ramps. Must have

been 30 or 40 people  -  they

policed themselves, fed themselves,

and groomed and did all their

loving and hygiene stuff too. It's 

all gone now; one day the cops 

swept in and just dragged everyone

off. One of those Mayors running

the crackdown on the homeless

stuff. It happens every 15 years or

so; same bullshit. I don't know 

whatever happened that time. I

never knew about the dead, or

the babies that were probably

born. A lot of that's never

considered 'proper'  -  bums

having sex?  -  so you never

hear about it. Until it's too late,

or some pick-axe political dweeb

decides to run with it all and

makes an issue. Mayors,

Councilmen, Judges, and

Magistrates too  -  that's the

real extortion racket; the 

homegrown rats who dig right 

in your faces. You see, a man

gets known by the definitions he

lives by. If you misunderstand

life, you're doomed, and no

amount of flim-flam or 

dilly-dallying is going to save

you. I mean that  -  I've always 

been pretty Biblical about

salvation and redemption and 

all that. It's all to be done by

YOU, and you alone, and for

yourself. All that riding the

carpet in the interests of others,

that's all lies and crap. Those

political types, that's all they do.

Lie. And crap. And they probably

lie about their crap too. You gotta'

watch out -  they're everywhere.

-

The old 'glitterati' of New York,

back at the end of the 1960's, was

a real riot. They hadn't a clue about

what was happening around them 

right then, and they clung to their

old money and ways as if they

just had to. Like a legacy entry

to Princeton, some university

connection in its dotage things

the world is a never-change,

fixed equation. They end up

looking stupid, and being so

too. Back then, it was Mayor

Wagner. Then Mayor Lindsey.

Two different operations at

other ends of the spectrum,

but both desperate and in a

losing cause to preserve the

'past' ideals in a city that was

past ideals. And was burning

to the ground too. Neither of

those guys had a real brain;

it was just a tether-ball still

roped to the past, the elite,

the fragmented old world. 

There were two choices, 

basically: Cede the entire

territory to the barbarians,

and take your chances; or 

cede it over to the real estate

and financial interests. They

chose the latter choice. Now

they're all gone, and just look

around you to see what's here.