D for Desperado

Today's feature at the theater of life, D for Desperado. Yes, it actually happened, I never thought I'd live to see the day when in Montreal, someone would try to rob me. Monday, about 3 PM, down by Champ de Mars, a man, about thirty-five, in a leather jacket demanded I hand over my back pack. I told him to leave me alone. While talking, I walked away. The man followed. I ran into lanes of busy traffic. If he was really intent on violence, I'd just stand there among cars racing off the freeway.


He was a bit confused by my lack of cooperation. I guess he figured I'd be easy. I slipped through the traffic and walked quickly to a corner store. The thief followed me inside. Even the man behind the counter was afraid when he saw the thug enter the store. I then told the thief that if he would leave me alone, I'd show him the contents of my pack. It contained a sketchpad, a copy of Wise Blood and a bottle of Advil. He wasn't interested in reading Wise Blood. I told him I wouldn't call the police, that all I wanted was peace. He left the store and I walked quickly to Rue Renee Levesque, where there were lots of people. The creep gave up trying to rob me.
 

This experience reminded me about a class of people who deliberately stalk and prey upon other humans. Thugs roam desolate areas of the city. They survive by feeding on others. Pounce on a person, go for the jugular and suck blood. Enjoy a belly full of blood until it gets digested and the thug craves more blood.

The thug treats himself as a thing and views others as things. The objective is to eat or be eaten, to survive because one is biologically driven to survive. A thug’s paradise would be a place where servants would serve and pleasure the thug, so the thug could feel good, get high and feel powerful and then go to sleep. After sleeping a while, the thug would wake up. Slaves would continue to service him.

This repulsive scenario is also an expression of death. Death lurks in the moment. I still don’t understand this situation, this body and mind scenario, a little ego inside, running the show, a speck of sand. Death, a gust of air blows away the whole little routine of one’s life, the hopes and fears, so much fuss for nothing.

Sneeze! It’s gone, over and out. A few tears and life continues, no big deal. Everyone will die. New people are born. One ego wiped out, another ego swells up. A huge river of life and death, each ego wants to ensure its own survival. Ego might squeal and try to get attention, vanity. Good old vanity.