There's an old song called Desperados Waiting for a Train. There's another called Desperado. Although I assume this is a Spanish derivative of the English "desperate," just as bravura is of "bravery," I really have no conception of what it means. Oh sure I've had my share of scary situations and scrapes with the law. But I've never been a desperado. I've never been Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid hole up in that in that shack in Paraguay or wherever, surrounding by the entire national army. They take a quick look at each other, dash out with guns a-blazing and are promptly cut down in a hail of gunfire. No, that has never happened to me.
I'm a sucker for those A&E crime biopics. I love the narrator's somber tone as he tells tales of unbelievably sordid cruelty. The other day they featured cannibal/child molester/all-around asshole Jeff Dahmer. There was an adult black man calmly telling the camera about his encounter with Dahmer. First he asks him to come to his apartment to take nude pix for $50. Then he plies him with warm drink that is laced with a sedative. He slaps a handcuff on one hand, pulls a steak knife and propositions him. Then he talks about his fish tank. There's a strange smell like rotting meat, as there are folks rotting in vats. There's a human skull in the fridge and a skeleton in the bedroom, where they wind up watching Exorcist III, Dahmer's favorite flick. You know something is wrong when a cheapie sequel is someone's fave movie.
And yet he says there were moments when he seemed like a lucid, nice guy. Just an average Joe with a skinless noggin in the fridge and a stinky crib. He commented that the furniture seemed nice.
There was no mention of him attacking the frail Dahmer and attempting to slit his throat. Even though that is clearly what the situation called for. You might not know exactly where this is headed i.e. that you are tonight's entree, but you must know it isn't going to end swimmingly.
As Bob Dylan pointed out, you've got nothing to lose. You're desperate. You're a Desperado Waiting for a Train. Why not make your move, take a chance, roll the dice? What have you to lose? Your life? All indications are that you're going to lose it one way or the other, passively or in a blaze of glory.
I'd pick on my own terms. Extreme violence. And I always like my chances in violent situations, because I have no feelings one way or the other. When things start to heat up my emotions shut down. I am indifferent and cruel. Just like Dahmer, except I don't scarf folks anymore.
That's why I always wonder about the hundreds of people aboard the 9/11 flights that struck the Trade Center and Pentagon. When crazed Arabs wielding box cutters seize control of an airplane and start flying it toward an urban area at a high rate of speed, dude, it's over. You are a goner. No chance of survival. But y'all outnumber the subhuman scum 10-1. Why not pummel them and if possible beat them within inches of their lives, deny them their martyrdom and then feed them their own dick and balls as appetizers?
That would be the only decent thing to do, after all. Why sit there meekly being led to the slaughter by Mo Atta with his huge head that wouldn't even fit in Dahmer's fridge?
Hate to say it but I agree, because, "What... the... fuck?" Seeing some of the footage from those German holiday reels, of Jews lining up, and one at a time taking turns at standing by the edge of a pit, before being shot in the back of the head. S'like, "What am I, fifth, in this queue?" *bang* *shuffle shuffle* "Fourth... in the queue."
There appear to be Nazi soldiers standing around holding their weapons, some are smoking as this parody of a Post Office line lingers by, one by one bodies mount, and yet people remain in the queue. "What... the... fuck? Alright I'm third in the queue, I can stand by the pit like the people before me or I can charge down the German closest to me, and die that way. Maybe I can even inspire #8 in the queue to do the same. I'm gonna die anyway!"
There's an account of three British soldiers and two Aussies being captured by German soldiers. Assuming they're gonna be dragged off to some POW camp they go without a fight. Then the Germans shoot one of the Aussies in the back of the head. The other soldiers, unarmed, immediately realising this is the decided fate for for all them, attack the armed Germans and get shot to crap. One British soldier survives, left for dead by the remaining Nazis. That's one soldier that sure as shit would have been dead if he'd watched passively as another man was shot in the head, and then another, and another.
There are only so many bullets in a gun, in the panic a man can only take down some of his attackers before being overwhelmed. Fight FFS! Dahmer would have had my foot in his mouth, even if my fate would be far worse than his previous victims as punishment for my having put up a fight - the guy'd be sporting a bust lip and a broken nose for his troubles.
I remember a guy hounding me and my brother for money as we walked through the town centre to the train station, after a few seconds of this shit we turned almost in unison on this guy, and the best he had by way of a threat to keep us back was, "Knife! Knife!" As he said it he jumped back and pulled back his jacket as if to produce this magical knife, my brother and me did a sort of, drag one another back while being ready to lamp this guy if he did indeed have a knife, but then he turned and sprinted away. Was quite funny, but neither of us think had we not been his target for the day, that anybody else would have bothered trying to crack him... chances are good somebody would have lost some money to him... and his imaginary knife.
If the odds are against you, but you're about to take a beating anyway, start flailing, because shit... there's a good chance you're coming out of it without a scratch. Dahmer, Christ... the black guy probably shared the mentality of the people on the hijacked planes. "It'll be okay... nothing bad is going to happen, not to me." Those passengers had probably seen so many movies about idiot characters getting shot down by well-spoken British bad guys hijacking planes, they thought better of it. Had probably seen so many hijackings, and the classic plane on a vast and empty runway surrounded by cops and Feds on the news... "It'll be okay... nothing bad's going to happen, not to me."
Meh, that's undertsandable, but fuck that... you're in a no-fly-zone heading toward a heavily populated area. There aren't any runways nearby, two-and-two people. And I often wonder if the pilots were indeed taken out, and the hijackers flew... or, in some crazy mindset of the WWII Jew in the queue... actually flew the planes themselves, into certain death and into the World Trade Center.
by Ex Crimson Guard NCO at March 16, 2006 5:46 PM
I saw a cable movie last night. It's called The Hamburg Cell and it seems to be trying to humanize Atta and his crew. One of guys has a saucy Lebanese gal-pal who he fucks. She refuse to wear veil or much of anything else. He drink beer drawing the ire of Mo. It ends just as the dirty deed is about to go down. Very strange.
by anna at March 17, 2006 10:34 AM