Since we were already wandering hell's half acre, I drove us by my former residence. It's been nine years since I left th drive-by shootings, zombified prostitutes, incomprehensible hard-working immigrants and feral natives.
We also drove my my dream house. Well, it would be a dream if it wasn't sandwiched between slummy apartment buildings.
For that matter, we scoped out more of the city. After, of course, the cult headquarters in Skindependence, where we'd been for the celebration of genocide and the madness of crowds detailed below.
Every time I hear details on Mormonism, I am astonished that anyone would fall for it. It's such transparent bullshit. Even compared with other cults and religions. The tablets just happened to conveniently disappear like the film from your Bigfoot sighting and your alien abduction slides?
Yet a lot of folks believe it, and these are fuckers with jobs: otherwise, how do you build these crazy temples?
I don't buy into all that Harry Truman was an honest guy shit, he was a politician, which means he was guilty. Still, the only modern president to not build a mansion at taxpayer expense. I guess he didn't want Pendergast to have to hunt for his forwarding address.
So then we went to the park.
Sort of.
Em was asking, 'this is the park?'
I thought, when I spied the bridge, that it was the joint I'd seen on TV, a big, nicely finished, riverfront affair.
Maybe someday, but I clearly had the wrong address.
So we got a view of the ruins of Western Civilization.
Not that anyone seemed to mind.
Oh, and we saw a war protest on the way home. Well, we saw a handful of protestors mixed with shoppers on the Country Club Plaza. Somehow, I doubt they're making a difference one way or the other.
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