By Train to New York (50 photos)
Samples...
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Photos: By Train to New York
Samples...
Kilroy Café #18: "Love and Enabling"
After a three-month hiatus, I have published a new philosophy newsletter (Kilroy Cafe #18). As with previous issues, the whole essay must fit on a single printed page (which you can print via the pdf file), but you can also read the full text below. Also see my other Kilroy newsletters.
Love & Enabling
By GLENN CAMPBELL
There's a fine line between love and enabling.
"Love," in most of its forms, is a decision to set aside your own needs and focus on someone else's. This can be romantic love, maternal love, love for your country or love for any creature weaker than you who seems to need your protection. Love is noble in itself. At some point in our lives, we have to look outside ourselves for meaning and satisfaction.
But love is risky. Whenever you lower your defenses, there's a chance you will be abused or imprisoned. It is also possible your well-intentioned actions may be counterproductive and end up hurting the one you wanted to help.
"Enabling," in its negative connotation, is reinforcing someone's dysfunctional behavior by providing an environment in which it can continue. We may speak of an alcoholic being enabled by their well-meaning spouse who cleans up their messes and protects them from the hardest consequences of their actions. The alcoholic does the drinking, but the spouse provides the safe environment in which it can take place.
Love and enabling form a Yin and Yang. Whenever you engage in the former, you must also grapple with the latter.
The simplest example of love is a parent's care for their child. No one would question the need to protect a toddler from the dangers of the world; yet, in doing so the parent is creating an artificial environment that quickly becomes addictive. One of the universal traumas of human existence is escaping from the bubble of childhood into a "real" world that is vastly different.
Every gift you give has a cost. Any charity given without strings can quickly become an entitlement, where the recipient feels he deserves the support without having to win it himself. This only heightens the trauma when the subject eventually has to deal with reality in its unbuffered form.
We all know it would be cruel to raise a dog or cat in a comfortable home then dump it in the wild to fend for itself, yet people who have the resources routinely set their children up for a similar trauma. If you raise a kid in an environment of relative wealth and privilege—filled with Santa Clauses and Easter Bunnies and magical parents who provide everything—how will he ever adapt to a world without magic?
Romantic relationships are no less risky. When you fall in love, you inevitably want to share resources, which becomes routine and expected after a while. The couple's assets—both tangible and emotional—start going into a big pot. The creeping danger, over time, is that one party starts drawing from the pot more than he is putting in.
This is the danger of any communistic system: "From each according to his abilities; to each according his needs." With both parties buffered by the apparent security of the commune, how are needs and abilities going to be enforced?
An ideal romantic relationship is one of equality, where both parties have something valuable to give and the exchange of services is nearly even, but this is a difficult condition to maintain. Look at the marriages and other adult relationships you see around you. Isn't the usual condition something less than equal? Gay or straight, doesn't one partner often become the "provider" while the other grows increasingly needy and dependent?
Things may seem stable when resources are plentiful and neither party has any reason to change. The system breaks down, however, when one party's dysfunction clashes with the demands of the outside world. When their choice is between changing their behavior or drawing on the common pot, the pot seems so much easier.
We all have our addictions—if not alcoholism then some misperception of the world based on our own emotional needs. The main thing that keeps this dysfunction in check is unprotected interaction with the outside world, which gives us hard, undeniable feedback whenever we misjudge it. When love provides a buffer between us and outside reality, regulation becomes much more difficult. Now we are trying to change our loved one's behavior using words alone, which are weak weapons against addiction.
Love is not just love. It is also war. At some point, the person you love is also going to be your opponent. Protection is going morph into enabling, and you're going to have to find a way to withdraw it—for the other person's good as well as your own.
Yes, a toddler needs protection, but only up to a point. If the ultimate goal is full exposure to reality, you have to let as much of it in as possible. A lesson with words is nowhere near as effective as a sunburn or a pinched finger justly earned.
Whenever you love, you need to know your boundaries and retain control over your own resources. Love may be unconditional, but giving shouldn't be.
—G .C.
©Glenn Campbell, PO Box 30303, Las Vegas, NV 89173. See my other philosophy newsletters at www.KilroyCafe.com
Saturday, October 25, 2008
PHL - Philadelphia International Airport (Airports I Have Known)
A useful airport in a boring city.Positive attributes: (1) Reasonably priced food (supposedly "mall pricing"); (2) terminal is open all night, so you can sleep there; (3) close to the city.
Negative attributes: (1) No free wifi. (2) There is little to do in Philadelphia itself.
Location: Only about 8 miles from downtown Philadelphia. The downtown skyline is clearly visible.
Layout: Terminals are lettered A through F. All terminals except F are connected within security. (F is the commuter terminal and requires a shuttle bus ride or a walk outside security.) Terminal A actually consists of two widely separated terminals for the low- and high-numbered gates. (Apparently, the airport didn't want to disrupt their lettering system when a new terminal was built.) Most international flights are in the A-high terminal.
Local Transportation: The commuter rail station is directly adjacent to the airport terminal--like airports in Europe. Unfortunately, the fare is very high given the short distance traveled (about $8-10). There is also a local bus running to the nearest subway station, which will get you to downtown (slowly) for less than half the price.
Near-Airport Attractions: There is a wildlife refuge across the highway from the terminal. If you had a few hours to kill, you could wander around on the trail system there. (To get there on foot, go out to the curb and turn right. Pass the taxi waiting area and keep going. You'll eventually get to an underpass under the highway. After that, you're on your own.)
For a good view of the city, go to the top of the main parking garage.
There are no commercial services or stores within walking distance of the airport.
Food: Lots of options, reasonably priced. There's a food court between B and C gates. Supposedly "street pricing" is enforced. Prices will probably still be higher than on your street, but it is a welcomed relief from the astronomical prices at other airports.
Sleeping: You can get away with sleeping within the secure terminal area, since it is open all night. Most of the bench seats in the airport have armrests (so you can't lie down), but many of those in the "C" concourse do not, which makes "C" the best sleeping area. (An airport employee woke me up, not not kick me out, but to give me a pillow and blanket.) See my Red-Eye Survival Guide for tips on sleeping in airports.
WiFi: Free WiFi on weekends only (confirmed 11/08, use "attwi'). On weekdays, AT&T offers wifi at $8/day (or free was various preexisting accounts).
International Travelers: Philadelphia is a credible alternative to New York or other eastern cities as a port of entry. Customs seems relatively fast. If you rent a car, Philadelphia is in a nice central location with easy access to both New York and Washington.
Philadelphia: Skip the city itself. One of the least interesting downtowns in America. Go to New York or Washington instead. You would only go downtown if you have an abiding interest in the American Revolution or the Rocky movies.
"The Confession" (a short film about criminal law)
By Glenn Campbell - A treatment for a short film of 5-10 minutes (Screen Story #26, Oct. 2008)
FADE IN:
We are in a sterile, fluorescent-lit interrogation room in a big city police department. A middle-aged murder suspect in street clothes, SYDNEY HIRSHFELD, is in negotiation with two detectives, DONNY POLANSKI and DAVID TAN. Clearly, they have been talking for hours and both sides look worn down.
Detective Polanski, a tough veteran of the force, explains the bottom line: Hirshfeld's wife has been found dead in their home. The detectives have already shown Hirshfeld the bloody photos of the crime scene. Polanski says Hirshfeld's fingerprints were found on the murder weapon, and Hirshfeld can provide no verification of his whereabouts at the time of the murder. The couple were facing difficulties in their marriage, and Hirshfeld had taken out a large life insurance policy on his wife shortly before the murder.
"It's an open-and-shut case," says Polanski.
Detective Tan, a soft-spoken Asian officer with a gift for diplomacy, explains that Hirshfeld has two options: He can deny the murder and go to trial, with a possible death sentence or life in prison if convicted, or he can confess, be charged with manslaughter and do only 10-to-15 years.
Polanski explains once again that if Hirshfeld cannot afford a lawyer, one will be appointed to him, but Hirshfeld shrugs off the suggestion.
Polanski pushes a typed confession in front of Hirshfeld for him to sign, and reluctantly he does.
Just then, Hirshfeld's cellphone rings, and he asks politely if he can answer it. Polanski looks pleased with the confession and is feeling generous. "Sure," he says.
Hirshfeld takes the call and is puzzled by it at first, but then his face fills with joy. "It's Judith!" he says to the detectives.
"Who's Judith?" says Polanski.
"My wife!" says Hirshfeld, greatly relieved. "She's not dead!"
Polanski's turns white. He asks to speak with her.
Talking on Hirshfeld's cellphone, Polanski asks the woman a series of questions, and as he does the errors of the investigation become apparent. They got the street address wrong! The body was found at 235 Washington Street, but the Hirshfelds live a few doors down at 253 Washington Street. Mrs. Hirshfeld is feeling fine!
As Polanski talks to the wife, Hirshfeld's own demeanor turns from joy to horror, as he looks down at the document in his hands. He has just confessed to a murder he didn't commit!
Hirshfeld, we begin to see, is a bit dim and has little knowledge of law or police procedure.
Polanski, looking stunned, gives the phone back to Hirshfeld. Hirshfeld is very nervous now, thinking he is going to do 10-to-15 years for the crime down the street.
He talks to his wife: "Listen, Honey, I've got a problem here. I might be going away for a while."
Polanski shakes his head. "Wait, I need to check some things. Tell her you'll call her back."
Hirshfeld tearfully tells his wife he loves her and hangs up. Polanski leaves the room, while Detective Tan stays. Tan doesn't fully understand what is going on, so there is nothing much he can say to Hirshfeld. Instead he can only listen to Hirshfeld grieve over what he has just done.
"I thought you found my fingerprints on the weapon," says Hirshfeld.
Tan: "Um, I'm not exactly sure what they found, but if they've made a mistake, I'm sure they'll correct it."
That doesn't calm Hirshfeld. He asks if he can make a call. Tan asks to whom, and Hirshfeld says his brother-in-law. Tan says it's okay, so Hirshfeld makes the call on his cell phone. He tells his brother-in-law that he has a problem, and he begins to describe his situation.
While Hirshfeld is talking on his cell phone, Polanski comes back into the room. He whispers to Tan: "We're in deep shit." Polanski motions Tan outside, and they hold a hushed conversation just outside the doorway of the interrogation room. Tan says Hirshfeld asked about the fingerprints on the weapon. Polanski acknowledges that they lied about that to obtain the confession, which isn't illegal.
Tan sums up what has happened: They have picked up an innocent accountant at work, brought into the station, told him his wife has been brutally murdered, then told him they had overwhelming evidence against him. He believed it, thought he had been framed and was going to be convicted. He confessed only so he would get 10-15 years instead of the death penalty. The detectives fed him the details and he repeated what they wanted him to.
Tan calls it "a case study in police incompetence and coerced confessions."
Polanski says that he, Tan and the whole department are going to be screwed if this story gets out. They have to get the confession away from Hirshfeld or get him to rip it up, or they might both be out of the job.
In the interrogation room, Hirshfeld hangs up the phone. He says: "Andrew says he's on his way. He told me not to do anything until he gets here."
Tan: "Who's Andrew?"
Hirshfeld: "My brother-in-law. Andrew Belli."
Both detectives look startled.
Polanski: "You mean Andrew Belli, the criminal defense attorney?"
Tan: "The candidate for City Council? The anti-corruption guy?"
Hirshfeld: "Yes, that's him."
Polanski: "Why didn't you call him when we asked if you wanted an attorney?"
Hirshfeld: "You told me my wife was dead and you thought I did it. I'm not going to call up her brother to ask him for help, because he probably thinks I did it, too. But now that she's alive, I think it's okay, isn't it?" Hirshfeld, a polite and mousy man, speaks with genuine worry. He doesn't want to offend the detectives, and he's still afraid of going to jail.
Polanski: "Why didn't you ask for a different attorney?"
Hirshfeld: "You said an attorney would be appointed to me only if I couldn't afford one. I can afford an attorney, but I didn't know who to call. My wife usually handles these things. She's much better at it than I am."
Polanski: "We showed you photos of the murder scene. Couldn't you see it wasn't your wife?"
Hirshfeld: "There was a lot of blood, and I wasn't really sure, but you told me it was my wife, and I figured you're police officers and you know how to identify people. I was devastated, so I couldn't bear to look too closely. I'm sorry."
Polanski: "Mr. Hirshfeld, it's us who should be sorry. I think we've made a terrible mistake."
Polanski and Tan do their best to apologize to Hirshfeld. They say they made serious errors in their investigation and that he is no longer implicated in any way in the murder down the street. They say they have no intention of using that confession Hirshfeld just signed.
But Hirshfeld continues to hold the confession tightly in his hands. He explains again that Andrew told him not to do anything until he gets there.
As we a waiting for Andrew to arrive, the detectives become more and more agitated. A series of police supervisors come into the room to apologize. Everyone realizes their jobs are now on the line. Soon there are five police employees in the room, all looking almost as nervous as Hirshfeld did before he signed the confession. All of them want Hirshfeld to rip up his confession, but he won't. He says he has to wait for Andrew.
While the supervisors are apologizing, Hirshfeld receives a call from Andrew saying he is almost at the police station. A little later, Polanski gets a call on the desk phone that Andrew Belli has just arrived at the front desk.
Finally, flamboyant criminal defense attorney ANDREW BELLI steps into the interrogation room. He sees Hirshfeld sitting at the table with two detectives and three supervisors standing behind him. Everyone is obviously under great stress.
Hirshfeld: "Hi, Andrew."
Belli: "Hi, Sid."
Belli exchanges brief pleasantries with each other police officials, who he knows on a first-name basis. The polite words obviously mask deep tensions.
Hirshfeld (innocently): "We've got a problem, and I wonder if you can help us."
Belli assesses the situation nonverbally. We can see a sly smile come over his face as he recognizes he has just stumbled onto something big.
Belli: "I'll see what I can do."
Belli closes the door of the interrogation room behind him and we…
CUT TO BLACK
© Glenn Campbell, 2008.See my other screen stories at Glenn-Campbell.com
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Enabling Circumstances
A book I am reading is The Screenwriting Formula by Rob Tobin. It's got some really simple advice that also is very telling about humans in general. One paragraph makes me say "Aha!"...Enabling circumstances are the circumstances that the hero creates or finds for himself; they are the circumstances that surround the hero at the beginning of the story and that allow him to maintain his flaw. Remember, the hero views his flaw as a defense mechanism, something necessary for his survival. Thus it's natural for the hero to seek out or create a set of circumstances (a job, a neighborhood, a set of friends, et al.) that enables him to maintain that critically important flaw.This isn't just talking about screen characters but people in real life. It figured into the cat lady story, and now it colors the way I see everybody, including myself.
The hero usually has a flaw at the beginning of the story. This flaw hinders him (or her) in some way, even if the hero doesn't realize what the flaw is--or that it is hindering him.That's humans in a nutshell.
The hero most often views his flaw as a defense mechanism he needs for his survival. The hero does not view his flaw as a flaw, but as a way of coping with life, as a behavior that protects his life metaphorically or perhaps even literally. That is why the hero has not already let go of his flaw--he actually does believe that he needs it.
Another interesting thing is the way the character's flaw molds his relationships. My new Facebook quote is: "There's a fine line between love and enabling." It means that in every relationship, you run the risk of reinforcing the preexisting character flaw of the other person or of yourself. This happens because each of us tends to mold the relationship to accommodate our own fatal flaw.
Screen Story #25: "Shady Acres"
In the sitting room of her home in rural England, a pleasant little old lady is being interviewed in a documentary. She is appealing for financial help from the public for her organization, "Shady Acres." This place is all about love, she says, and about caring for God's creatures who are unable to care for themselves.
As she speaks, a cat walks across the back of the sofa where she is sitting. The woman continues talking in general terms about the value of every living creature as well as about her own organizations desperate need for funds. As she speaks, we pull back to see another cat, and another, until we realize that the whole small room is packed with cats! The cats walk all over the lady until she loses her train of thought.
An off-screen interviewer points out that there more than 500 cats on her fenced-in property, and that the local government has declared the home in violation of a number of codes. Doesn't the woman realize the health danger she is creating and the stress she is putting the cats under?
The woman acknowledges that "Shady Acres" has problems, and that's why she is appealing for funds. She says that she has no options. Since every life is valuable -- even a little kitten's or a kitten still in the womb -- she can't bear to turn any feline away. She admits that she can't afford to feed the cats or spay or neuter them, but this doesn't justify the rejection of any innocent kitty who needs a place to say.
The woman says that she herself has known rejection, and it is a horrible feeling. She talks about the pain of being locked out and left in the cold -- referring to the kitties of course, but she may also be referring to herself.
The interviewer asks: Given the deplorable conditions inside the compound, wouldn't new cats be better left outside to fend for themselves?
No, no, the woman insists, leaving a cat outside would invite almost certain death. There are packs of raging dogs outside who will tear apart any unattended kitty they find. Rejecting a kitty or failing to pick it up when found wandering would be no better than a death sentence for the innocent feline.
In the middle of the interview, the woman stops, alerted to sounds outside. She looks out the window and gasps. She rushes outside the house, and we follow her.
Outside, the local animal control authorities have arrived in force, in an operation resembling a massive drug raid on a methamphetamine lab. Officers wearing hygienic facemasks and heavy gloves are seen netting and caging the animals. The cats take off in all directions! Health Department workers in hazmat suits are preparing to enter the house.
The woman races around the compound, frantically trying to stop the assault. She calls the officers "Nazi stormtroopers" and "kitty killers." Finally, a police officer firmly leads the woman away, removing her from the property for the duration of the operation.
Sometime later, we visit the woman again outside her home. She wanders stunned through her now-empty yard like a soldier visiting a battlefield where many comrades have died. She describes what happened here as a "Holocaust". She insists that all of the kitties are being gassed, and that the animal control officers now have "blood on their hands."
The interviewer repeats the statement of authorities who say they'll try to find homes for as many of the cats as possible. The woman replies that she doesn't believe it. All they have on their mind, she says, is genocide.
Then something alerts the woman. She goes to a porch, looks under it and find a litter of kittens that the officers overlooked. Her face brightens up, and she proudly shows us the kittens as she pulls them out.
She says this is a good sign, like a flower poking its head about the rubble after a volcanic explosions.
"There is always hope," she says, playing with her kittens.
FADE TO BLACK
©Glenn Campbell, PO Box 30303, Las Vegas, NV 89173. Photo source.
Also see my other screen stories at LoveStrangely.com
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Woman in the Middle
Here is an interesting image of a woman stuck in the middle. (Click on it for a bigger version.)The painting is "The Sabine Women" (1799) by Jacques-Louis David.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Screen Story #24: "The Waiting Room"
The Waiting Room (pdf, 14 pages)
Excerpt...
The door closes, and JANICE and the CASSANOVA are alone in the room. He is a man in his twenties, and we can see from his style that he thinks a little too much of himself. His shirt is open halfway down his chest to expose his chest hair. He is wearing gold chains around his neck. His hair is slicked back as though out on a date. He sits down immediately in the chair closest to the door. He and JANICE obviously don’t know each other.
The CASSANOVA is clearly uncomfortable with the waiting. He is sitting with one leg crossed over the other, and his free foot is twitching nervously. He looks past JANICE to the dressing mirror on the wall opposite him. He examines himself in the mirror, takes a comb out of his pocket and fine-tunes his greasy hair. Then he gets up from his chair and peruses the snack table. He takes a diet soft drink and a bag of chips and returns to his seat.
Posted from Las Vegas. Also see my other screen stories at Love, Strangely.com
Friday, October 10, 2008
Screen Story #23: "Home on the Range"
Somewhere out in the open range of the modern West, two weather-beaten cowboys, SLIM and TEX, are sitting around a campfire at night. Behind them, visible in the firelight, are a horse and a pickup truck. Slim plays his harmonica for a while, then he puts it down and begins to wax poetic, as cowboys often do. He speaks in a slow, deep cowboy drawl.
SLIM: "You know, Tex, we've been out on the range for six weeks now, ridin', ropin' and roundin' up cattle, you on your horse and me in my pickup truck. Every night we sleep under the stars, and the immensity of the sky and the beauty of the land make me realize how just much I love you."
TEX: "Why Slim, I didn't know you felt this way. You know, I haven't dared say it, but I love you, too."
In close-up, we see their hands touch and then intertwine, as corny cowboy music rises.
CUT TO: A small Western town in daytime. Slim's pickup truck is parked outside a small church. We hear wedding music. On the back of the pickup is painted "JUST MARRIED" with the usual decorations. Slim and Tex, both in formal attire, get into the pickup and drive off.
CUT TO: A beach in Hawaii. Slim and Tex are lying side-by-side in beach chairs facing the ocean. They are obviously on their honeymoon. They exchange loving looks as Hawaiian music is heard.
CUT TO: A small Western town. Hand in hand, Slim and Tex enter a mobile home dealership.
CUT TO: Outside view of a new mobile home, just installed on an empty lot. Slim and Tex embrace as they gaze upon their new home.
FADE TO BLACK
SUPER:
"SOME TIME LATER..."
CUT TO: A montage. In a series of scenes in and around the mobile home, we see the cowboys' marriage deteriorate. Slim takes to drinking, while Tex is unemployed and refuses to look for work. There are charges and counter-charges. Tex accuses Slim of infidelity, while Slim denies it. Voices are raised, and dishes are thrown. Finally, Slim finds himself locked out of the mobile home, as Tex vows, through a window, that he will be filing for divorce in the morning.
TEX: "And I'm getting the pickup!"
CUT TO: A courtroom. Tex and his attorney are at the Plaintiff's table, while Slim and his attorney are at the Defendant's table. A female judge on the bench declares: "This marriage is dissolved."
CUT TO: A campfire on the open range. It is a scene similar to the beginning, except that only Slim is sitting there, alone. Behind him is a horse but no pickup truck. Slim plays a sad tune on his harmonica but is overcome with emotion and has to stop. He composes himself, then looks directly at the camera.
SLIM: "You know, sometimes a man is best advised to keep his feelin's to himself."
He resumes playing his harmonica.
FADE TO BLACK
Posted from Las Vegas. © Glenn Campbell, PO Box 30303, Las Vegas, NV 89173.
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Screen Story #22: "11:59 from Prescott"
My latest screenplay concerns a showdown between peaceful residents of a Old West town and three menacing strangers. They offer "protection," but at a price.
11:59 from Prescott (pdf, 11 pages) by Glenn Campbell
It's a commentary on law and government, in the guise of a Western shootout.
Excerpt...
FADE IN:
EXT. -- FRONTIER TOWN, ARIZONA TERRITORY -- LATE 1800s
We find ourselves in a classic sagebrush boomtown in the Old West, approaching high noon. The town has a short Main Street lined with the typical wooden storefronts of a Wild West settlement, including a saloon, livery stables, mercantile store, blacksmith shop, a rooming house and a church. Main Street ends at the railway station. The town is well-kept but appears nearly deserted. A tumbleweed blows across Main Street in the wind.
Two local COWBOYS walk slowly down Main Street, side-by-side, heading toward the train station. An undefined tension hangs in the air, and they nervously finger the guns on their hips. As they scan the buildings along Main Street, we see there are other men hidden along the street. One man is inside an open window of the blacksmith shop; another is hunched down on a rooftop, and a third is on the second floor of the rooming house behind half-drawn curtains. Other men are positioned in various hidden and partially exposed places along Main Street, each with a gun at the ready. The two cowboys exchange nods with each of the men they pass, as if to say, “Are you ready?”
Posted from Las Vegas. Also see my other screen stories at Love, Strangely.com
Screenwriting Theory: The Flatland Analogy
By Glenn Campbell When thinking about what makes a good short film, I always come back to the same general plot: "A character with obvious motivations encounters a mysterious force he doesn't understand. Over the course of this story, we come to understand this force and, in doing so, learn something new about the character."
This is like the main character in the novel Flatland. This is the story of a square who exists on a two-dimensional plane who encounters a three-dimensional object, a sphere. This mysterious force doesn't behave like the two-dimensional laws say he should. This is a good metaphor for each of us, living in our own limited worlds, taking a lot of things for granted. Absurdities can grow safely in this environment until an intrusion from another dimension exposes these flaws.
In one way or another, most of my own screen stories fall into this pattern. Someone ordinary meets something extraordinary. The extraordinary force could be something paranormal — like Bigfoot or a pair of X-ray glasses — or it could be an unusual circumstance not normally encountered in real life. This force doesn't have to be realistic or even plausible. In fact, it is manufactured specifically to illustrate something about the ordinary character.
If I am going to build, say, a time machine, I will design it in such a way as to illustrate the flaws of the character. This is a lot like how action movies are created: Plot circumstances are arranged to place the hero in maximum peril but also give him a hidden way out.
Personally, I don't care about physical peril; instead, I want to put the character in existential peril. That's a situation where one of his core assumptions about life is being called into doubt. Examples are when a priest begins to doubt whether God exists or a lawyer stops believing in the law. You are face a special kind of risk when the thing you have built your life and self-esteem on begins to crumble. This is far more interesting than being threatened with guns. Some people can adapt and some people can't, but it is usually an entertaining and illuminating process to watch from the outside.
Stories happen when I discover both a character and an extraordinary circumstance to illustrate his flaws.
Photo #1 source unknown. It may be titled "The Escape."
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Archive Photos: O.J. Simpson Arraignment (Sept. 07)
O.J. Simpson Media Circus (90 photos, 9/19/07)
Poor O.J.! I can't help but feel some sympathy for him. Both the original murder charges and the latest incident seem to suggest a serious lack of judgment. This event at the Palace Station was purely stupid. It was like he didn't care anymore and was saying, "Please arrest me. I deserve it."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)