Tuesday, September 18, 2007
My Response to the Article Exiles on Main Street
What is so hip and cool about living right outside so much suffering?
While they sit in their IKEA decorated faux arty style loft, observing the wonderful view from their windowsill, and drinking a nice brewed cup of coffee made in their brand new Krups coffee maker, they catch a man laying face down on the sidewalk. Vomit surrounds his head. "Mmm…I love to watch people suffer in the morning."
"Good thing I can capture this with my brand new Iphone."
If this doesn’t conclude the idea that Los Angeles is full of vapid idiots nothing will.
Bukowski didn’t live in squalor and filth because he wanted to.
He found places he could afford while he struggled.
And you bet your ass he had no hesitation when the opportunity came to move to San Pedro.
What I want to know is what are these people doing to help all those hungry on the sidewalk below them?
Do they just silently step over them as they walk to their Prius and drive away?
Or the prostitutes, what nostalgia-watching, old, sad, and broken women walking the streets for sex. Oh forget the sunsets. I’d rather watch someone writhing in pain on the street while I watch from my windowsill safely in my IKEA vomit dream.
Artists my ass.
And you compare this to Paris in 1898?
Are you serious?
And with the spirit of the gritty street with all the hungry and lost, I give you one last image.
All the homeless standing outside the lofts giving them all a glorious middle finger.