Oh my.
I went over to Skins's island to see if the brain-damaged primitive was hanging around--he wasn't--and bored, I went to read his journal, as I'm getting ready to start posting
hippywife Mrs. Alfred Packer returns to the Sandhills some time today, and I wanted some inspiration.
I usually don't bother with primitive journals; they're pretty boring.
But then I found this, from May 3 of this current year:
http://www.democraticunderground.com/~DainBramagedI just got home a few minutes ago, cops everywhere, the coroner's van parked in the street
My downstairs neighbor, in his 50's, not an educated man, hung himself.
Lost his menial job on the night crew of a supermarket of many years to an argument with his supervisor. Soon after unable to find work, his girlfriend of many years and their daughter left him because he had become abusive and argumentative. After the first year, we noticed he had begun drinking, parking on the sidewalk, talking slurred when we saw him on his deck. The last time I talked to him a couple of months ago, he had said he was out of money and he would have to leave here soon because he couldn't' find a job, a menial job for an uneducated soul. He didn't know how to use a computer, he was amazed at what I do. He went out many mornings, I've seen him nicely dressed in a tie, but I guess he just didn't fit the profile for corporate America.
They must have put the eviction notice on his door today because it wasn't there this morning when I left for work. The only reason they found him was a visit from his sister late this afternoon. A visit to give him some money to help him out. (I talked to her before I sat down to write this tonight).
Another victim of the recession dies alone. No money, no job, no hope. His cry for help unheard.
It just sucks.
Besides the essential question--I thought this sort of thing wasn't going to happen once the Big Zero took over the White House.....more than four and a half years ago--I wonder if the brain-damaged primitive was, without realizing it, foretelling, in a fashion, his own destiny.