Thurman Heights

Franklon presumably shot up my cousin's apartmental unit the other night in South Sacramento. At least, that's what the guys who are being shot at are saying.

I've been bicycling through that area for over half a decade and no, I never feel particularly safe, but geez, to sit inside the apartment this afternoon while talking thrash metal, looking at the CSI bullet hole measurement stickers, I really didn't feel good about it. It took a good three beers to settle down, to sit instead of stand inside a doorframe. Yet about that couch I was sitting on -- it wouldn't offer protection from another .38 coming through the door or window. An odd feeling, yes.

But, something that Mr. Cousin has recently brought into his world, through associating with the neighbors across the way, recent renters (recent being 8 months). That world isn't just filled with chronic chemical dependents and loafers anymore, something I've been chatting about here on these monologues...no, add street thugs to that list, now.

I wonder. As we continue our slow march towards debt deflation and as our collective actions to address it will most certainly mean even more extreme wealth concentration, I consider the increase in social unrest that will inevitably result. I am increasingly of the opinion, particularly as I chose today to ride through Thurman Heights, that to not throw bones to those who have none is a bad way to operate, particularly when immigrants tell me this, too.

I can choose to stay as sheltered as I can, I suppose, in white suburbia (well, make that white-feeling suburbia), while this shit continues around me, and simply work harder to keep as far removed from it as possible. I don't like to think this is an option...but unfortunately, it's about the only one that will likely ever play out, based on the way we've built things here in this nation.

I'm hardly advocating living in gangland, but I do think that social policies that ensure economic segregation also ensure the creation of whole swaths of people who will never know the pride of work, who will never have something to strive to attain, who will never understand the value of purpose.