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The Devil and Poughkeepsie
Jul. 18th, 2014 10:27 amThe MH17 crash threw me into a panic. Uh oh, I thought. We’re entering into serious Franz Ferdinand territory with this one.
The plane was packed with scientists on their way to Melbourne, Australia for an International Aids Conference. So much for getting continuing education credits for frolicking with the penguins and the kangaroos, right?
We’re probably living in the most peaceful time ever. I mean, us – not other people. They’re living in Ukraine, Afghanistan, Iraq, Egypt, Somalia, Central America. We’re living here – where a school shooting that nets 26 victims is Big News. I’m not saying that a school shooting isn’t a tragedy; I’m saying that in terms of body counts, 26 victims is a drop in the bucket.
We continue to implement ever more stringent security measures and safety precautions to decrease those body counts or at least, to help ensure the victims aren’t white or (second best) middle class people of color.
My own theory is that these security measures aren’t designed to protect us necessarily so much as they’re designed to lay the foundations of a service industry that will take up the slack from the manufacturing base that the United States essentially gave away. You can take your global economy and shove it up Bill Clinton’s hairy ass.
Much in the same way as the commoditization of higher education – that insane insistence that every McDonald’s fry pusher and janitor needs a college education – has resulted in an entire generation of indentured servants. Why are Millennials so politically apathetic? School loans, baby. You can’t stick it to Da Man when Da Man holds your bank note.
###
For the past year, I’ve been living in Poughkeepsie, which is like Ground Zero for urban blight. Came the news yesterday that IBM is pulling its remaining workforce out of Dutchess County.
Long-time readers will remember that I’ve wasted quite a bit of time wondering how Poughkeepsie turned from this –
-- into this:
I’ve come to the conclusion that it really was the deal with the devil Poughkeepsie’s municipal administrators made with IBM in the ‘80s. Combined with various NYC municipal clean-up measures. I mean, when NYC got rid of its “undesirables”, they had to come somewhere, right?
At IBM’s behest, Poughkeepsie essentially razed quaint historic neighborhoods to make way for a traffic arterial designed to disgorge commuters at the IBM campus. IBM also finagled a deal with the Town of Poughkeepsie – and forgive me, but I find this whole NY State designation of “cities,” “Towns,” “villages,” and “counties” awfully confusing – whereby IBM paid very little in terms of local taxes. Of course, public schools and other municipal services depend on those taxes. So the public school system essentially fell apart and they stopped plowing snow off most of the streets in the winter.
Dunno what the city fathers thought they were buying. Maybe they were just getting paid off. You gotta think this is a place where municipal corruption runs rampant. I mean, it’s absolutely absurd that Poughkeepsie has a white, Republican mayor.
Anyway, here in the ghetto, security measures and safety precautions are noticeably lacking. Random violence ends in death every once in a while, but it’s more likely to manifest as road rage or screaming matches on the corner of Main and Academy:
Yo, bitch, touch me again, I’ma blow yo fuckin head off!
I’m only a temporary citizen of the ghetto, of course, and I must say I’m looking forward to moving in two weeks. Yeah, yeah, I love walking around blighted urban landscapes. But even I have limits.
If I were 30 years younger, though, I would really try to do something about Poughkeepsie. Get involved in the municipal government. Try to get Seraphina to run for Mayor or something, manage her campaign. I would be a fucking awesome political operative.
Anyway, between Russians nonchalantly shooting passenger airlines out of the sky and the ground war in Gaza, the world seems like a seriously scary place just at present.
I’m working my way methodically through my To Do list. A guy at my gym asked me out so we are doing the coffee thing Saturday; seeing a sculptor from the Internet Dating Site on Sunday. Neither assignation fills me with excitement, and I’m wondering: What is wrong with me?
I find myself missing Tom, and wondering what he would make of this brave new world. I can almost hear his voice.
For five years of so after he died, I could still feel Tom hovering around me, taking care of me. Five years is much longer than ghosts generally hover. He must have loved me a lot. But eventually, of course, he left. More important things to do.
The plane was packed with scientists on their way to Melbourne, Australia for an International Aids Conference. So much for getting continuing education credits for frolicking with the penguins and the kangaroos, right?
We’re probably living in the most peaceful time ever. I mean, us – not other people. They’re living in Ukraine, Afghanistan, Iraq, Egypt, Somalia, Central America. We’re living here – where a school shooting that nets 26 victims is Big News. I’m not saying that a school shooting isn’t a tragedy; I’m saying that in terms of body counts, 26 victims is a drop in the bucket.
We continue to implement ever more stringent security measures and safety precautions to decrease those body counts or at least, to help ensure the victims aren’t white or (second best) middle class people of color.
My own theory is that these security measures aren’t designed to protect us necessarily so much as they’re designed to lay the foundations of a service industry that will take up the slack from the manufacturing base that the United States essentially gave away. You can take your global economy and shove it up Bill Clinton’s hairy ass.
Much in the same way as the commoditization of higher education – that insane insistence that every McDonald’s fry pusher and janitor needs a college education – has resulted in an entire generation of indentured servants. Why are Millennials so politically apathetic? School loans, baby. You can’t stick it to Da Man when Da Man holds your bank note.
For the past year, I’ve been living in Poughkeepsie, which is like Ground Zero for urban blight. Came the news yesterday that IBM is pulling its remaining workforce out of Dutchess County.
Long-time readers will remember that I’ve wasted quite a bit of time wondering how Poughkeepsie turned from this –
-- into this:
I’ve come to the conclusion that it really was the deal with the devil Poughkeepsie’s municipal administrators made with IBM in the ‘80s. Combined with various NYC municipal clean-up measures. I mean, when NYC got rid of its “undesirables”, they had to come somewhere, right?
At IBM’s behest, Poughkeepsie essentially razed quaint historic neighborhoods to make way for a traffic arterial designed to disgorge commuters at the IBM campus. IBM also finagled a deal with the Town of Poughkeepsie – and forgive me, but I find this whole NY State designation of “cities,” “Towns,” “villages,” and “counties” awfully confusing – whereby IBM paid very little in terms of local taxes. Of course, public schools and other municipal services depend on those taxes. So the public school system essentially fell apart and they stopped plowing snow off most of the streets in the winter.
Dunno what the city fathers thought they were buying. Maybe they were just getting paid off. You gotta think this is a place where municipal corruption runs rampant. I mean, it’s absolutely absurd that Poughkeepsie has a white, Republican mayor.
Anyway, here in the ghetto, security measures and safety precautions are noticeably lacking. Random violence ends in death every once in a while, but it’s more likely to manifest as road rage or screaming matches on the corner of Main and Academy:
Yo, bitch, touch me again, I’ma blow yo fuckin head off!
I’m only a temporary citizen of the ghetto, of course, and I must say I’m looking forward to moving in two weeks. Yeah, yeah, I love walking around blighted urban landscapes. But even I have limits.
If I were 30 years younger, though, I would really try to do something about Poughkeepsie. Get involved in the municipal government. Try to get Seraphina to run for Mayor or something, manage her campaign. I would be a fucking awesome political operative.
Anyway, between Russians nonchalantly shooting passenger airlines out of the sky and the ground war in Gaza, the world seems like a seriously scary place just at present.
I’m working my way methodically through my To Do list. A guy at my gym asked me out so we are doing the coffee thing Saturday; seeing a sculptor from the Internet Dating Site on Sunday. Neither assignation fills me with excitement, and I’m wondering: What is wrong with me?
I find myself missing Tom, and wondering what he would make of this brave new world. I can almost hear his voice.
For five years of so after he died, I could still feel Tom hovering around me, taking care of me. Five years is much longer than ghosts generally hover. He must have loved me a lot. But eventually, of course, he left. More important things to do.
