Bastards
Do you still have your appendix? I don’t, and I know the pain associated with appendicitis. My Dad doesn’t have his appendix either, and I vividly recall my Mum and I picking him up at the Philly airport in 1976 when he was suffering from a ruptured appendix. I recall it so vividly because when my Dad walked off the plane, he could barely walk and I thought he looked no different than a cadaver in a coffin. He barely survived.
Claire Wolfe fingers a story about Omar Paisley, a seventeen year old youth who died while in the custody of Miami authorities. Callous seems too gentle a word to describe the attitude Paisley’s jailers displayed while he suffered. Unlike my Dad, Paisley didn’t stand a chance while in the hands of the state.
Next entry: The Two Americas Explained
Previous entry: We Are the World?
