ugh. By all accounts, dementia and alzheimers amplify the dominant traits in ones's personality, so someone of a nervous disposition will become outright paranoid, and so forth. Some are freed from the cares of their lives and drift through a peacefull innocence, others become little more than the sum of their vices.

That uppity road-raging macaca would have been jus' fine if he'd kept in his place in Louisiana.

That is sad in so many ways. Sad that a human can kill another (even by accident) and have no remorse about it. Sad that someone who seems to have overcome a bumpy start to life will never get the chance to see his daughter grow up. Sad that a young girl has lost the chance to grow up with her father.

Just sad.

Wow. That's fucked up. I've always been of the opinion that once you hit 60 or somewhere around there, you have to take a drivers test every year to get a license. It would take a pretty big segment of bad drivers off the road.

I hate that people still have that ridiculous way of thinking. Years ago, the supermarket I work for used outside companies to count their inventories. The store is located in a upper-middle class to wealthy neighborhood. The inventory crew was made of mostly African-Americans. An elderly woman, shopping with her upper middle aged son, grabbed my wrist and asked "What's going on?" When I explained the company was doing our inventory, she exhaled and said, "Oh, good. For a moment there I thought they were taking over."

Freakin' horrible bigots.

When I lived in the college dorms, the floor's requisite rich-spoiled-flamboyant-immature-gay-kid knocked on my door one day, all distressed, and told me "there are blacks in the lounge! Negroes! You have to make them leave!"

(Why he thought I should bell this particular cat, I dunno. I also don't know why I was the first person he just had to inform, in TMI detail, that he'd lost his anal cherry -- he had plenty of closer friends closer to his age.)

I pointed out that last week in the lounge, the requisite flamboyant-over-dramatic-hand-talking-black-queen had been his guest.

He explained that "These are off-campus Negroes!"

(So to pacify him, I went to the lounge while he hung back, talked to the two guys there, learned they went to another college and were visiting friends on our floor, told them to have fun, went back and told the histrionic rich gay kid to take a deep breath, and disappeared back to my room.)