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Unfinished

There are two stories in today's Times that got me thinking about nationalism, which is nothing but tribalism on a large scale, and the wicked fairy that curses democracy. Estonians are having problems with the ethnic Russians that Stalin planted in their country. Isn't it funny that these "Russians" don't want to go "home"? And we, of course, are having trouble with illegal immigrants, or at least with figuring out how to deal with the "problem." Isn't it funny that the nation that won't shut up about the glories of free markets lurches with cartoonish ineptitude in vain attempts to seal its borders to would-be workers? Yes, it's very funny. Ha ha.

But I'll let you think about it instead. I've been distracted by a fragment from a story in the Metro Section, "Car Crashed Into a Restaurant, Injuring Six." There's no byline, so I can't toast the writer/reporter who surveyed the damage at a Hamilton Heights branch of Popeye's, and noted,

An unfinished meal of fried chicken sat amid the wreckage, and tire tracks showed the path the car took from the street into the restaurant.

"An unfinished meal of fried chicken sat amid the wreckage" - it's pure poetry.

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Comments

I am speechless! There are just too many directions to go off on with the Popeye's story.

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