There now is your insular city of the Manhattoes

Thanks to my coworker (you know who you are!), today I has teh political frunz. O my soul.

So for reasons that are not totally unrelated, here are a couple articles I am pondering:

Last week or so my girlfriend happened across a news article from 2006 about a dead man found on the Q train (that's my train!). He was an USPS employee who finished work, got on the train to go home... and just died... and then continued to ride the line for six hours before anyone realized he was dead.

And it reminded me of another news story that was circulating a few months back about a somewhat reclusive, elderly woman in Flatbush whose skeletal remains were discovered when a concerned nephew finally persuaded the police to break into her apartment. According to the medical examiner, she'd been dead and lying there in the hallway of her house for two years. The woman was a Trinidadian immigrant, a divorcee with few friends apparently, and she put on her coat to go out one day but died before she ever got through the door. The neighbors, frankly, seemed pretty embarrassed that she had died and nobody figured it out (though to their credit, I suppose, they collected her mail and had made attempts to get the police into her house to check on her).

I was thinking about those stories because Ellen mentioned Lawrence King on her show not too long ago (Ellen you almost make me forget that the discourse on hate is profoundly politically unsatisfying oh wait no)-- and I keep waiting for news on Sanesha Stewart to pop up somewhere besides the queer/feminist blogosphere and the debacle that was the initial Post/Daily News coverage-- to no avail, of course, which I suppose makes her another New Yorker who died without anyone noticing.

Neway, just FYI, if you should find yourself facing imminent demise, some Bushwick Baptists posit the following:

(courtesy of New York Shitty again)