This morning I’m angry. It’s taking some time to seep in, but all the rage is flowing back in, filling every capillary. The helpless rage of having something taken from you, of having no recourse and of having no hope for vengeance.
Our friend Crystal discovered this beestie on her porch a couple of days ago. Despite the perfection of such a creature for upcoming Halloween parties, she’s taking him to the animal shelter come morning. 
We were SO ready to go straight to bed after the show in Pittsburgh, but then Heather heard about the kitten and couldn’t go to bed until after she’d done got her pet on. 
In our civilized world, when someone breaks into our car and takes something, the insurance company will wiggle and dodge to avoid paying anything. The police will shake their heads and judge you for where you were parked and the next venue down the line will say “that’s a bummer, but if you don’t have a PA, really, you can’t play” and judge you for being irresponsible and wasting their time.
Our friend Ash had his PA stolen out of his car last night and I remember so clearly having our car broken into in New York, my Volkswagon being torn into in suburban Seabrook of all places… shattered windows, ripped belongings… my camera and portfolio taken from me in Baltimore, my wallet and cash taken at gunpoint in Takoma Park, MD. I don’t have to imagine the sense of unfairness and invasion he must be feeling.
MORE SNAKES!!! 
I wonder about the mental viewpoint that allows this. Either a person can’t place themselves in the mental space of their victim, or they can but they don’t care. The former – well, either that’s because the perpetrator can’t fathom the concept of empathy and simply can’t transfer themselves out of themselves, or because they regard other people as so far beneath them, or their needs as so inconsequential compared to their own, that these insights simply don’t factor in their decision-making. The second one, not caring – I wonder if that’s the less dangerous. Simply not caring means that the individual simply has not seen the point of NOT taking what belongs to them, and therefore perhaps can be taught / trained through punitive actions. The former’s psychopathic lack of empathy though, I don’t know that that’s curable. Perhaps in the case-by-case behaviour, but lack of empathy can extend far beyond break-ins and theft. Regarding other people as something other than oneself is the stepping stone to almost every human ill imaginable, starting at abuse and ending with genocide.
In any case, I’m furious…. And maybe even angrier because Ash is one of the few people in my world whose karma’s so UNTARNISHED that there’s no way in which the universe can even out the unfairness of it. I hate that on top of everything else, that this probably is a little world-shattering to his view of what kind of place Charm City is.
I’m idealizing him. Let it stand.
I wonder where the thief’s line would be. Would he have stolen a guitar? Probably. If there was a note explaining that this item is our LIFE? Medicine? Probably. Not enough Malcom Reynolds are out there. These are our Livelihoods being taken from us. Heather getting her guitar back via the action of SWAT team after IT was stolen… how I wish we had the option of placing every taker of other people’s stuff in the line of fire of an amped-up squad of men with itchy trigger-fingers and automatic weapons. That’s got to get your heart pumping, and when the adrenaline wears off, maybe even gets your brain going.
There are evil people in the world, and a whole rainbow spectrum of evils for them to perpetrate, but it all comes down to them thinking that they’re better than their victim in some way. I don’t believe in victimless crimes, not really. My artschool training bridles at the societal cost of costly demonstrative guerilla installations and graffiti. But there’s a range – and breaking into someone’s car and stealing the things that they need to make a Living, or that they need to realize their dreams – well – that’s horribly personal, and I just finished re-watching the Watchmen and I fantasize about kung fu, armour, and a mysterious face.
