It is likely to be one of the dirtiest presidential elections ever, not merely in the muck-raking, insult-trading sense, nor even the volume of anonymously-funded attack ads. Anything that gets the right people to the polls and shuts the wrong people out is fair game.
NASA should have sent up a poet or an artist, he reckons, to describe the view for all mankind. Because the question is always the same: “What did it feel like on the moon?” He doesn’t have an answer. “Magnificent desolation,” he called it, while he was there.
Some think the riots damaged the community. Others call it an uprising. “There’s power in non-violent protest,” said Shorty, “but you need to show that you’re capable of violence as well.”
“It is a place where you can be anything. It’s a place where you can say anything, write anything, paint anything.” But not for long.
Ashrita Furman was juggling hand axes in his back yard when I arrived. The hatchets were sharp, and weighed more than two kilos each, as Guinness regulations require.
A few days after the execution date was confirmed, I received a message: Swearingen wanted me to watch him die.