47. CREATIVE FINANCING

     One twilit summer nocturne, reclining in our Aladdin's den of inequity, we spied two of the gang returning to the lair with a...Space Oddity (not the Tardis in Dr. Who, but close). We cracked up watching the stooping Quasimodos with shuffling limps, lugging an indefinable immensity between them, concealed under a bedspread. "You'll never guess!" Ta da! A wall payphone! They used a crowbar to rip it out of the anterior wall of a near-by drinking establishment. It fell to mighty M to to open the sucker, so he set to work with a sledgehammer (from his "Demolition Man"1 days). The thick metal sent sparks flying FAST and FURIOUS. No built-in alram went off, nor did hidden paint bombs explode (as on unsuspecting bank robbers opening bags of loot). A whack of lizzie bordens yielded a cascading bonanza of small change. 70 bucks in quarters! Pizza and beer! Street dope!

1 Jones, Grace "Demolition Man"

Author's Boring Yet Well-Meaning Confession :

     I cannot leave these collected tales of whimsical thievery and druggie debauchery, from over thirty years ago, without making a strong disclaimer, to the effect that many of our actions at this time were...regrettable. We must undoubtedly account for our actions and choices, if not in an afterlife of some kind, then, surely, daily, as we reflect upon, and re-examine, the ripples of their effects.....implying an ongoing accountability for ourselves, others, and society, as a collective experience. I confess to having mixed feelings (and haunted memories) revisiting this period of my life, and sharing it with "the world." Admittedly, youthful rebellion, ignorance, and a literal and metaphysical hunger factored into our "bad decisions" - and, rest assured, our learning curve involved copious amounts of self-inflicted suffering.
     Surely, however, one can excuse petty stealing (still, breaking a $^*#$%^ "Commandment") for food or drink, in varying degrees (depending upon frequency, amount, and need). We recall, in an all-too-cruel recent past, thieves-like-us were imprisoned, bereft a hand, or hanged, for pinching mere loaves of bread or poaching a bit of meat.

      And, in today's world of Wall Street hypocrisy, stealing from, or hacking into the accounts of, corporate business entities (legally granted "personhood" in order to evade ethical responsibility) engaged in sociopathic behavior (i.e. Financing Wars For Empire and Profit) seems a worthy cause-célèbre.
     But my excuses justifying thievery wear thin, and I have been warned excuses "will not absolve me of the repercussions that will follow me into eternity, from the aftereffects of my actions within this reality". I can only pray came no one came to adverse harm from my ill-advised acts of thievery A swift retribution of instant karma followed, in that everything I owned at the time (stored in a shed in a St. Denis Street back alley) (due to our roving homelessnessless) was pilfered (including valuable family heirlooms from my Silesian grandmother). Yet the immediate wince of loss I emitted, upon sight of a single, white, kid-leather, arm-length glove, strewn in a mud puddle (the poetic, sole testament to all that remained) was nothing compared to the dreaded weight of my intrepid Soul, against a feather in the scales of my Future (hopefully-Redeemable) Conscience. And now, back to Chaos News....the Revolution of the Hungry Ghosts continues.....