February 23, 2016
My grandmother told me that during the Great Depression, the homeless”then called “hobos””really were down on their luck, through no fault of their own. But is even that true? Notice how many of those quaint old “hobo signs” equate to “lying about how bad off you are” or just “trying to get away with shit”? (I particularly like “2 Women here. Tell a good story.”)
I guess that’s why I”ve written about the homeless so much, even when I was “Ed Anger.” (Yes, I was Ed Anger.) And why when I do, I get so pissed off”and attract such attention.
I”ve been a professional writer for 30 years, yet only my musings on homelessness (and “poverty” in general, also mostly fake…) have ever been deemed worthy of (frankly insipid) condemnation by Salon beta-male faggot Alex Koppelman and hormonal fury-appliance Wonkette“and even ended up in a social studies textbook.
So Justin Keller, I feel ya, son.
The tech start-up founder’s in trouble for complaining about all the filthy criminal “riff raff“ (his words) cluttering up”you”ll never guess!”San Francisco.
He did all the right things and now has to share the sidewalks (he pays for) with belligerent lunatic jerks who didn”t. And if this supposedly intransigent problem with transients is always somehow “magically” eradicated every time there’s a Super Bowl or papal visit in town, why can”t such solutions be permanent?
Who keeps electing the city council liberals who”ve been (briefly) legalizing public defecation and passing other “progressive” pro-homeless measures in Frisco since the 1980s?
My gut tells me that if I looked at his voter registration, there”d be a “D” right next to “Keller, Justin.” And not “D” for “deceased,” either, although now that I”ve written about him, that’s out of my hands.