28 August 2004


There's something about parks at night. People think they're entitled to a fumble, a screw, a piss in the dark. The infrared cameras see them, so do I. Just because nobody can see them doesn't make it right. People need more restrictions, not less. You can't let too much freedom in. I've never broken the law in my life. There they go, prickly little monochrome blurs, a whole gang of them. It's cold out. Bastards. Perhaps one day they'll let us carry pepper, at least. Six of them, rabbits in my torchlight. One of them's got something in his hand.