Mark Thomas ([email protected])
When watching the evening news on Channel 5, I've lately gotten into the habit of looking up names of suspected murders and child-molesters on Switchboard. Usually, there is a full address and telephone number, and if that phone number is in New York City I pick up the phone and dial it, curious to see if the cops left the suspect's answering machine on, or if there is a special message from the relatives of the arrested person, or even from the arrested or suspected person.
I have not heard any such special message, only endless ringing, but would imagine that such a message would simply say that "messages will be forwarded, your voice will be heard, please leave your message after the beep." I mean that's what I would say.
Dialing away like that is a very stupid thing to do, but my outlook is that I've learned more about life by doing stupid things and fucking them up big time then by getting everything right the first or even second or third or fourth or fifth or sixth time. Meanwhile, I just hope these mistakes are seen by tolerant people who don't mind that I'm making up life as I go.
The many miracles of caller-ID must have worked themselves into policework, and if I am to continue with this hobby then it might someday seem strange to law enforcement that one person's phone number consistently appears in the caller-ID logs of every murderer and suspected felon in town.
If the cops ever showed up demanding answers, I would just tell them that it's a moribund hobby of mine to call murderers and bandits right at the pinnacle of their fame. The police not believe that. Or rather, it would be disappointing if they did.
With a police scanner this could get pretty sophisticated. But if I had a Radio Shack police scanner I would certainly bend the springs a little bit and listen in on my neighbor's cordless phone conversations, forgetting about keeping up with all the criminals.
Anyway, I could use but just can not afford or justify constant police protection, so calling homicidal freaks on a regular basis could be a way of securing a constant police presence in my very eventful life. I'm not doing anything wrong, but just need the company of the law because of a reasonably well-founded fear that I am centimeters away from giving up everything I have and turning it over to the streets by way of some outstandingly stupid act.
I'm not trying to fuck myself up. I just want to hear the latest word from the most urgent voices in town, and I don't want to hear it from The Daily News.
I should make these calls from payphones, that's what I should do. "Hey, it's Mark! What's the word, man? Saw you on the TV. What the fock, man, what the fock are you doin'?"
Then the fun begins.
Christmas Feast
The End
The CDA
Giggle
Rain
No Choice
Viva!
From Jutta
Beat
Empty Books
My Receipts
Residue
Stalking Post
Punchlines
Payphones
