Set in the mid-1990s Bosnian and Chechen conflicts, this non-fiction first-hand journalistic account of war and heroin addiction is wonderfully tied together by philosophic self-examination. Anthony Lloyd tackles all sorts of existential questions regarding humanity, the need for violence, familial relationships, bonds of kinship forged in war, nationalism, opportunism, idealism, and morality. Best of all, the book is not a self-righteous polemic from the moral-high ground; his self-degradation throughout the account adds credence to his insights and conclusions.
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By the age of 19 I had already acquired a long list of previous employers. There was McDonald’s, where I grilled burgers in the back with all the illegal immigrants. Management must have thought I was not presentable enough to work the front with all the other English speaking teenagers. There was the telecommunications center where I answered phones calls and placed catalog orders. This proved to be an embarrassing task for a 16-year-old whose voiced had yet to change. At the end of every phone call the customer would politely say, “Thanks Ma’am you’ve been very helpful.” After about the 6th or 7th time I stopped correcting them. There was Home Depot, where I stole enough lumber to build a quarter pipe in my friend Peters backyard. There was Hollywood Video where my co-worker set up a fake account using the name of Smokey McPot, under which we rented many a dvd with no intention of returning. There was the frame shop that fired me for being too slow. There was the hair salon that fired me for not being friendly enough. And then, finally, there was Vincenzo’s. Continue reading Vincenzo’s Here in England, it is common language to use the word ‘pinch’ meaning to steal. So it was quite natural to see the twisted looks of confusion on my cousins faces as I described to them the term ‘pinching a loaf’. If you have not heard of this term, it means to take a poop. Get it? None the less, this conversation reminded me of a time in high school that needs to be documented, of a video we made where I truly pinched a loaf in all understandings of the word. Peter Hill is unlike anyone I’ve ever known. I doubt that there is a person on this planet who knows Peter and does not like him. If they feel otherwise, they simply haven’t taken the necessary time to appreciate Peter’s genius, or, they are offended by nudity – either way they are missing out. The Middle Hill (Peter has older and younger siblings) will always say yes, I can’t stress how much I love this about Peter. It is truly a great attribute in a friend. Ok, sometimes it has taken Peter some convincing – “Don’t go to work Pete, Danish American Farms doesn’t need you as much as I do,” but he always comes through. He is loyal, fun-loving, kind, tough-as-nails, virile, and laughs at everything. But his character is only the beginning of why Pete is a dear friend. Of all the holidays, Halloween is my favorite. Without a question. I think that for many of those who read this, they would find Halloween to be at least in their top three holidays. It has all of the main components that people think of when trying to asses the quality of a holiday. As a youth you enjoy the candy and pumpkin carving. As a teenager you enjoy the race of going to every house in a five mile square radius. As a young adult you enjoy the sexy costumes that your female companions feel obliged to wear. As a parent you enjoy the candy your children gather for you as well as scaring the shit out of little kids that show up on your doorstep as you jump out of a dark corner with candy in your hands. It is a life long enjoyment that changes with the ages. However in England, the country trying so hard to emulate the United States, Halloween remains to be a major holiday and for this they will never attain their goal of becoming a global power. |
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