So I was informed by reliable PD sources that for ten hours a day, seven days a week, any sick person can experience the true blue jubilation of being subjected to the workings of a full-scale police station without actually getting beat down and then booked for (blink) “resisting arrest.” Yep, DC’s got a Museum of Crime and Punishment, which apparently includes all sundry items from a lie detector you can try to pass to the “artifacts" of "criminal consequences": guillotine, gas chamber, electric chair, lethal injection machine, self-created devices for injury and escape [eh? now that is a criminal consequence? you have to fashion your own weapons? nice], and Al Capone’s jail cell.” Wait a sec – aren’t some of these things certain states still like to use at 12:01 a.m? And are things “artifacts” if they are still in use? I know, details, details.
The museum, it turns out, belongs to the school of Realism. You pay hella dough to get into and out of the system, and, with seemingly no irony, the museum charges 12-59 year olds as adults. Huh. Couldn’t have predicted that. It is almost like this museum is guiding national policy.
Getting ready to move to (or from) DC yet? If that doesn’t get you to turn on your printing press and crack open your Realities of the Prison Industrialist Complex Statistics Manual, it turns out the museum employs (?) black men in orange jumpsuits to desiccate as they pound the muggy summer sidewalk, "inviting" folks in. Now, that shit is just plain ol' FUCKED UP. Unbelievably, no locals are becoming summer sweat puddles next to these fellas fliering AGAINST the museum or contents thereof – or at least handing out accurate pro-dignified-life literature. I mean, where the hell ARE the skinny white anarchist crews when ya need ‘em? Is there a Franti show somewhere I don’t know about? Shit, if folks were down to organize I’d crank out the fliers. Shit, I’ll make the MyFace group. Send me word.
However, lest you believe that G. Whiz’s DC has become apolitical cesspool waiting for salvation from the beautiful Obama, right close to this museic atrocity, I caught up with the sign waving “Stop Bird Pornography: Save Our Feathered Friends” contingent. This is one passionate group who are probably perfectly normal pervy folks and perhaps not even vegetarians. But they are definitely down to yuck the yum of Birdy Porn watchers everywhere. Feel free to read more here:
I, for one, ask: Wait, are these people for or against it? Let the elderly and binocular-toting have some fun! And, fer realz, the problem is that there are sexy birds to be peered at everywhere. I, for one, have a lifetime goal of trying to avoid too much eye-feather contact, especially after one pooped on my head and then another (one minute later) pooped on my self-righteously-upturned-in-horrified-mid-gesticulation palm (ruuuuuuuuuude) on 16th Street back in the day.
But in DC, Bird Blindness simply wasn't possible. Birds are EVERYWHERE. Some are quite fetching, too. There, I admit it. Now, I am no virgin bird watcher but I am a fully awful bird identifier, and even as I type here in DCA's airport boarding area, there are chickadees of some sort looking at me cock headed and flying around the room. Seriously. In the airport. Now, I don’t wanna sound like a victim blamer, but these DC birds? Believe me, they WANT to be looked at. I'm just sayin'.
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