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Righteous Indignation Apparently, it's been twenty-five days since my last rather inflammatory posting, which inspired worry in quite a number of people, all of whom will be relieved to know that I do not at this time own a firearm, or at least not one that's located in the State of New York. I did some homework, you see, and realised that acquiring a firearm through the proper legal channels (the only way, as far as I'm concerned, to do it) in this city is prohibitively expensive. First off, one must pay the NYPD fees in the neighbourhood of $450 just to apply for a permit to possess such a weapon. This fee does not guarantee that your permit will be approved, and regardless of approval, the fee is non-refundable. (The right to keep and bear arms, in New York City, is apparently reserved only to those who can afford it, much like health insurance, but I digress.) Furthermore, as I am perhaps excessively fond of firearms bearing the names of Messrs. Smith & Wesson, the one which I would want to possess would cost me nearly another $1,000. I am a musician; I do not have this kind of money. So I stalked my street for a few weeks, sharpest keys in hand, on the lookout for the lousy piece of shit who accosted me and my companion on the night of 18 April, with full intention of gouging his eyes out or doing something similarly grisly, until my rage finally burned itself down to a lovely smouldering righteous indignation. Ian, too, makes a good point in his note to me, that I am, ultimately, above this sort of behaviour. I am not, however, above brushing up on my knife-throwing skills. That's all I'm saying. If you're bored enough to be reading this today, there's more coming later. It'll be HOT. ;-) r
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