It’s not easy starting an essay when one is so hung-over. Such is my current status. I feel like a zombie who’s trying to type out his last will & testament. And to substitute the aches and pains, I pour enormous amounts of caffeine and yellow dye number 5 into my weakened body, just so I can stop my eyes from receding any further into my skull.
ABSTRACT: I might say he is the antithesis of a conspiracy researcher. An almost mythological attorney who doesn’t like to see strange coincidences passed-off as empirical evidence. He can quickly turn the tables on someone thinking they’ve got their argument made, and instead make their attestation tumble like a house of cards, leaving that person dissolute and unable to substantiate the claim any longer.
Wednesday, January 4th was a long day for Rich, a ruddy-faced and Bronx-accented member of Occupy Los Angeles. There was an event planned that afternoon at the home of Faith Parker, a 78-year-old retired schoolteacher and mother facing foreclosure. The problem: Ms. Parker lived eleven miles away in South Central. Rich, 20 years homeless, rose early and began walking. “Sure, I could’ve bummed bus fare. But then you don’t get to see anything along the way,” he later told me.
Superbowl Sunday, the most watched program on television, every year. The most anticipated and analized commercials. The most expensive and exclusive commercials. The height of commercialism. The excuse for parties across the nation, as millions tune in.
Busy weekend in Oakland, but you'd never know it if you were watching the mainstream newscasts. The absence of coverage this time has to be viewed as something of a blackout. If literally hundreds of thousands of people protesting in the streets across America isn't news, then an explanation as to why is in order.