Crossing the street is both boring and an extreme sport.
Towards the end of Memos from Purgatory Harlan Ellison wrote a passage that really stuck with me;
« Watching them, feeling the humanity draining out of me as the full import of what these ex-human beings had been turned into rose in me, I felt more trapped than ever before by the System.
Because this was the reward you got for screwing up in the Glorious System. This was the ax that fell. And here was a manifestation of the lost, who seemed to be the guilty. »
He’s describing his experience in a New York city jail (known apparently as the tombs) sometime in the 60s … still with everything that’s been going on vis-à-vis the Occupy movements and related discussions about « the system » it felt very contemporary. I don’t know what this guy’s story is, but anyone that spent anytime on the Plaza as heard him singing on the corner … the photo is from Sunday, it was damn cold. Sitting on cold concrete for fifteen minutes will chill you to the bones, I’ve tried it, you should too. Imagine entire days. I can’t.
The always glamorous Plaza St-Hubert.
Friends who ask me why I almost always carry my camera with me … that’s why.