Notes From Underground

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My angel little brother David got arrested this week. Code 3 violation too, which means tactical support was necessary. Six squad cars arrived on the scene in Edwin Warner Park and out spilled a whole battery of armoured up law enforcement officers who promptly bum rushed the our darling blonde suspect in question and hauled him off downtown to jail, no kidding that's jail jail since juvinile was flooded, for the whole rest of the day and well into the night, all for what? Poking around the park with a Civil War musket in tow, no gunpowder or miniballs or anything that might enable the gun to be anything more than a glorified doorstop, antique at best. In truth, he was filming a movie trailer for class and they did have fireworks but goodness gracious, mercy sakes alive. I don't know what's more woefully ridiculous in this here schenario, the wanton expending of tax dollars or the hypersensitivity our society lives in. People getting all up in arms, literally, over something way less incriminating than a whole lotta other things that immediately came to mind that are seemingly okay, because they're everywhere (gluttony, envy, pride, rudeness). They didn't even hear him out at the scene (of the crime) or even allow him his phone call when in jail. God almighty, how can you live with yourself everyday if you get off by getting on other people? I'm just saying, justice would be the last thing on anyone's mind if the dinosarus were still around, at least justice to the extent that was levied upon my dear brother David a few days ago. No doubt, catastrophies are no good awful events that get thrown at us, but they do grant the gift of perspective. It takes a truly humble spirit to say, "Well, I lost everything but my family and I are still alive and that's what matters." Light upon the true priorities shines through and everything unnecesary falls by the wayside, including a six car battalion sent to rustle up and apprehend  But why does it take Life's mighty hammer of unpredictable events to remind us of what's truly important? Do we have to be forced to feel, in a way? Only aware of death at funerals or only American after 9/11? I'm overdoing a little bit, but there's a lot going on with that right there. Whatever. If you see this man in the photos above, run for your life. I fucking loooooooooooove Iron Maiden. 

Iron Maiden-Run To The Hills