An insolent, depraved anarchist, wandering aimlessly down the massive corridors of parliament longing for that fleeting rush of success and a redeeming job. The bastard child of vanity and conquest crowning away to glory, the ill-fated outcome of prohibition and a good time. Pint sized junkies running for office and pest control, harboring delusions of grandeur and homoerotic repulsion. A source of income for young kids with the answer to life, shaved genitals and a week off from school. The sewers teeming with senile bodies, each with a primetime spot and an appropriate punch line. The homeless shelters overrun with once iniquitous typewriters, now short of pages to feed the poor and a devoted cause. The sidewalk plastered with lovelorn letters between a suicidal wannabe and an overzealous has-been, each with the same message and handwriting. Doors for privileged artists, the city cracked open on games of Russian roulette and hostile jazz with nefarious infidels debunking the myth of atheism. A glutton for punishment serving his term for imprisonment, weeding out souls with extreme precision and pop culture references. The change in predictability and reality for a sexual deviant on the verge of satire and disdain for sanity.
