Part 1 of 30
They Found Another Body
I'm going to be looking at various deaths in the Big City or Big World throughout the month, a full examination, no holds barred. But on the advice of my plumber, Dick, who almost went to law school, I need to add some disclaimers. Any names of actual people actually used for actual cases is possible. Because there’s so many cases and so few names to choose from. Dave, Ed, Jane, Mary, it’s all coincidental. I will never intentionally trample the toes of aggrieved people.
At the risk of putting too fine a point on it, there is absolutely no intention, no conniving, I’m not trying to get in trouble with anyone or add misery to anyone, whether in small helpings or heaps. I also don’t want any more trouble with the police, lawyers, agents, or beneficiaries looking for a “killing” of a different sort by taking my last few dollars. If your loved one has died -- and I trust you can prove it in court -- you can be sure that anything I say here is not a reflection on them.
I plead with you to look at this as a composite picture of actual cases, a leg from this case, an arm from another. If it involved a frolic in the park, perhaps a more personal part of a loved one, I have in no way identified it by distinct wounds, birthmarks, or eyewitness accounts. This is especially true if the parts were particularly odd, as would have been the case if I wrote about the guy with a strange limp we’ve all heard of with parts resembling a cudgel and accompanying walnuts, literally the firmness and texture of dead walnuts and worth about as much. I will not mention him by name. Tony’s just a nickname.
For a select few subscribers I’m making access available -- and all copies are presently under library audit and may not be ready for some time -- medical guides to the eye and ear. I picked these two particular volumes for the important information they give. So that if you have an issue with any of my posts, again assuming your own loved ones are referenced and thereby could make a handsome payday by declaring me guilty of cashing in on their good name and character, or causing reopened wounds for you, heaps and mountains of renewed misery, including body parts draining in bitter grief, the flow increasing as the wounds are bared to the world, you can refer to them. If you didn’t see my various disclaimers eschewing guilt about their identities, and if you didn’t hear me plead, scrape and moan in disclaiming responsibility, you can refer to these books to determine what’s wrong with your eyes and ears.
One other disclaimer, I’m not referring to any particular person in particular, especially not you, sir, with the cut under your left eye and the sun-burnt forehead, still with the faint outline of a swastika tattoo from your teen years, praying daily near the river, thrashing about, asking God, “Why did you take my loved one?” You know the actual truth, sir. You had something to do with it, and I will implicate you as soon as I double check the evidence. But pulling someone’s arm most the way up their back, then kneeing them at the lower back till they’ve limp/leaped all the way across a field to a river does indeed constitute complicity. According to my plumber.
Check the books! I’m not talking about anyone in particular. Your eyes are your problem. Your ears are your other two problems. If you didn’t refer to the books when you had a chance -- they’ve been under audit since 1949 -- I’m sorry, I can’t help you now. I’m sorry about your loss. I know he or she was a great person, which may have been part of the problem. Your jealousy was so great.