“Da Capo,” is a
musical term as I know it. From the Italian, “the head,” or “from the
beginning.” In music, a da capo sign somewhere near the bottom of a piece of
music, meant that we went allll the way to the top and started over. I was down
with that. When we got to the “del segne al codas” and what nots, that was the
sign for me to get lost. Lazy copywrites back in the day used these signs.
Musicians stayed lost in the notes and pages which, in some cases, resembled
the worst days of spaghetti programming ala COBOL. I digress.
That is not how I am
using “da capo” here. I mentioned earlier in the wayback time, and boy, howdy,
does it seem like the wayback time, that I would be re-posting from of my
earlier pieces. “Fairyback,” from ABC’s “Once Upon A Time,” is the term used
when they jump from now to the fairy tales, in days of yore. There are “Lost” jumping back in time
revelations; now, in season 4, they are moving ahead into the future. The
structure is becoming complicated, but not so much that you can’t keep up. I
digress and I fear sometimes that I cannot keep up with my own story.
Therefore, I must
start at the beginning. This is one of the very earliest posts I made when I
first created the “Homeless Chronicles in Tampa” Blog. We really did this.
Everyone had some type of ID and they were all horrible. You could look
be movie-star gorgeous and still end up a troll on these pictures. If you think
about it, that takes a special kind of talent right there. But the dear people
of (fill in the blank) State of Florida Agency, go one better. They not only have
schools for said photographers, they now have cameras that make you look
horrible!
Yes! You can have had
a great night’s sleep, put on make up, combed your hair, look like a million
bucks, tooled up to the DMV in your Mercedes wearing Gucci and these cameras
will make you look fat, toothless, ratty, drunk and strung out on crack.
Technology is a wonderful thing. Read on:
Here in
Florida, one is supposed to have a valid ID at all times. For those of us who
fled the ol' homestead in a hurry, with nothing but the clothes on our backs (which
TGH promptly lost; another story, later) we can get a "referral" from
Homeless Recovery of Hillsborough County to "The Shop," also known as
"MHC," or Mental Health Clinic. With a referral and your smiling
face, you too, can receive a god-awful picture ID that bears no resemblance to
anyone, or anything living, on this planet, or maybe even in this Solar System.
We have to carry these IDs with us at all times, in the event that the Tampa
Police Department decide to do a bit of sprucing up on Nebraska Avenue and
start hauling in folks for not having any type of ID. I am a proud owner of one
of these things. We occasionally. . . okay, we frequently, find ourselves with
little, or nothing to do, no appointments to keep and no passers-by to pester,
so we have to entertain ourselves.
One of the
more amusing ways to pass the time is to show each other our Unity (MHC) IDs.
This works best when a new batch of homeless folk have moved in and we can
unveil these nightmares to our new "housies." The people who take
these pictures must have to go to a special school to learn photography where
the finished products are this horrid. Some of these people end up working for
the HART bus line, (BUS WORLD!) and the truly gifted go work at the DMV,
churning out little 3" X 5" inches of Lovecraftian horror for the
State of Florida. O Sweet Moses on a buttered cracker, these things bear
visages from some kind of 4th or 8th dimension, a la "Colour Out of
Space." We glimpse things not meant to be seen by man. It helps to be legally
blind; I can just gasp "Gaaahhh!" and pass on the offending document
to the next victim without scorching my retinas. Enough. What follows are
actual pictures. Please be warned; you do not want to view these at work. Do
not let the kids or pets see these pictures; they are lethal. Do not view
around houseplants; they may catch fire.
UNITY ID - MARY WALLACE
Why Violas Shouldn't Draw...
The IDs were truly awful, my drawing actually looks better than the ID did. The ID was then stolen by the crack ho my former roommate was allowing to come into our house. I, like an idiot trusted former roomie’s judgment. Well, I learned. I’m still pissed about that ID though. You had to see it to believe it.
One of the things I’ve learned from my homeless and now I guess we could call it “marginal” existence: at any socio-economic strata you have people who abuse the system. I’m not talking about the poor, sad people with wet brains from a lifetime of alcohol abuse. I’m talking about the psychopaths and the sociopaths who deliberately game the system and people for their own pernicious egos and so they never have to lift a goddamned finger.
If I have to chase off one more grifter or stare down one more chucklehead that I’ve had to tell off 8 times already, I’m going to start spilling blood. These bastards just won’t get it. Notice I said “won’t,” not “don’t.” There are people out here who can’t get the help they need because these lazy, self-centered douchenuggets have never worked a day in their lives and refuse to get up and even try to look for a goddamned job.
It’s because of shiftless, idle fucked-up-ed assholery like this that we have shit like the Oligarchical pretensions of Romney, Bain Capital and the Republican Senators who decided to do everything they could to try and hinder an economic recovery in early 2009. So, we have assholes at both ends of the spectrum. It’s just raining assholes everywhere! Asshole alert! 60% chance of assholes! Well, from the head to assholes! Groovy. I think I just ranted my way through the alimentary canal.
Since we're on a roll... Cacocracy
