exposing the brutal gentrifcation squad known as lower polk neighbors

Saturday, November 10, 2007

Adventures in Liberal Fascism Pt. 5

Now this blog will attempt to focus on the Captain Al Croce Casciato rant. Many of the most passionate members of LPN are only leading the specter of displacement by the nose right up to their own doorsteps. An interesting example of this was during the first happy hour LPN meeting where facilitator David Chiu's agenda got hopelessly railroaded by a very stream-of-consciousness Captain Al monologue. Bearing in mind that such a mode of expression is deeply respected around here (anyone who's read previous entries will know this to be true), figuring out how to portray Al's trip from ruminating about finding bargains on home video surveillance systems to al fresco dining to the tale of a "crazy" not-crazy homeless "not-homeless" woman is seriously a daunting task for even the most shrewd of criminal masterminds to tackle. Despite finding the agenda utterly displaced, David was able to recover some little modest corner for LPN to exist in the shadow of the police state.

We'll begin with probably the most poignant of Captain Al's classist and misogynist dream imagery, the legend of the "crazy" not-crazy, homeless "not-homeless" woman. We FADE IN on a bench in San Francisco. A sleeping figure has covered themselves with newspaper. Let's say the Chronicle. Or maybe the SF Weekly is easier to come by, although more difficult to spread out into a blanket. It's certainly way more useful as bedding than journalism. "This woman had this trash. Her belongings. She smelled," Captain Al soliloquized. "We sent her to the hospital. 5150. Amos Brown yelled at us and said if this was the Marina she wouldn't be here. We did Homeward Bound and Saturday she was back. The hospital let her go because she's not a threat to herself. She's not. [sic]" According to Captain Al, this problem continued right up until the reverend wanted to get a merchant to do a citizen arrest, when someone suggested about trying to get her in the church, "trying to get her into services." Captain Al free-associates further: "She was a boomerang. She's not homeless. She's mentally-impaired. Something tells her to collect trash and cover herself with it at night." Hmmm. Really, Captain? Could it be the cold?

"She's like a hand grenade," the Captain continued. Hey, that's not very nice, Al. Just because you might not like the way a person smells, there's no reason to suggest that they're going to spontaneously combust. Really now. "There was a murder when I became Captain across the street. One stabbed the other snapped. You have to tell them, 'John take your meds. John take a bath.'" Hmmm. Does that strike anyone as a little paternalistic? The world is truly bleak where the kindest words you'll hear in a room full of people are from a police officer.

This is just one small part of the Captain Al Casciato rant.

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