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Detroit Adult Entertainment: Cop Shocks

Byrnes and I both have a bit about Detroit, but it’s a different Detroit.  In my piece Detroit isn’t a place for celebrity fly-ins to slum-it.  It’s a distributive function.  Detroit drops bodies in streets around North America, though not without a certain macabre grace.  Someone’s dropped a body this week in my street by way of illustrating the principle, and done so in the future bike lane.  “Bike lanes are musical notation,” I write.  “Read them sideways with bodies in bloody bold as the dramatic notes.  Let the witless complicity of do-gooder cyclists leaning into their drop handlebars serve as the connecting notes in italics.”  My leader-lovin’ friends remain silent.  Like I said, I’ll never be able to write for the Times, though my theoretical belief in parallel universes suggests that there is at least a technical possibility of a cosmos in which the journal of record from the island of Manhattan neither pimps for empire nor trades in banalities. 

See the full article from “CounterPunch”