I looked up at a uniformed patrolman. The face wasn't familiar. I guess I must have dozed off. We walked together to the comer chatting amiably. I wondered whether he would have been so gentle if I had been a wino from Shantytown and not a Tribune reporter.
Murder is murder.
The horror lies in the power of the state, by naked force and self-righteous claims of morality, religion, law, patriotism or racial cleansing, to make its crimes appear honorable. I detest the hypocrisy of those who weep for stray dogs and unwanted fetuses and pray to the Christ of peace and mercy and in the next breath send men to the electric chair and their sons to war. To be a true revolutionary you have to have an enthusiasm for a cause greater than yourself, so much enthusiasm that you could work with other revolutionaries and accept the authority of a leader and the discipline of an ideological scripture. That kind of enthusiasm was incomprehensible to me. We happily took the money to help pay the tuition of two of our children attending private integrated schools in the North.