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A long-time tactic employed in police interrogation, to force a suspect to drop his guard and open up. Now, a duality threatening the fabric of American social justice.
Standing in a line of peaceful protestors seeking acknowledgment of racial injustice, unsure as to whether the well-armed men before him would protect him or attack him, he saw clearly - the good cop bad cop routine had taken to the streets.
A song stuck in your head, on auto-repeat since 1966.
Having blown their cash on a then-state-of-the-art sound system for the band truck, the guys only had enough to buy one tape. For the last five decades, Martha and the Vandellas had been singing endlessly in his head - "It's like a heatwave, burnin' in my hea-a-art, can't keep from a-cry-in', tearin' me apa-a-art", his personal 8 track tapeworm.
Trying to remember what day this is, in the locked-down, shut-in, stay-at-home world.
Was it Wednesday, Monday, Thursday? With nowhere to go, no one to see, they all became daze of the week.
Protected from sincerity or deeply-felt emotion by an ironic attitude.
Ironyclad as always, her eulogy for her mother began, "You all know mom? She sends her regrets at being unable to attend today's festivities", but the mourners all understood it was her defense against grief.
"My Little Puddle in the Bed": When texted, an intimate erotic endearment, eclipsing the historic 'Ma Petite Chou-Fleur", (my little cauliflower,) and leaving the fabled Frenchman distinctly in second place
"Who's mlpitb?" he asked.
With trembling fingers, she barely replied "I'm ylpitb"
Accoutrements placed in the service of pampering a woman who protests IANAJ, while being pampered as if she were in the Tokyo Hilton.
Her dedicated copper coffee pot from the Tokyo Hilton, her velvet baby blanket, her monogrammed sterling spoon, breakfast brought to her bedside, at the precise hour requested, pillows fluffed, lap dog placed in her lap, temperature adjusted just so, the blinds opened to the precise degree, her phone charged, as she requests with a simple hand gesture, a personally-selected condensation of the morning's news delivered softly, these and more were her personal Japonica.
To return to an appallingly bad movie, after you have done your time and pronounced yourself rehabilitated.
He had come out swearing, "Never again!", but here he was, in lockdown, serving a second stint with "Sharknado 3", an act of tragic revidivism.