Congratulations to the publishers of the Washington Times. In the form of Tom Knott, they’re employing a practicioner of hate fuckery so unabashed, he makes Gerry Callahan come off like a thoughtful person.
Carmelo Anthony is the wannabe bad man from West Baltimore who was last seen backpedaling on the Madison Square Garden floor after sucker-punching Mardy Collins.
“Stop backpedaling” could be the title of the next underground DVD in which he appears, so named after his successful debut in the 2004 DVD called “Stop Snitching.”
The basic premise of “Stop Snitching” is not to finger the friendly neighborhood drug dealer who sometimes has to kill people.
If that is the principle, then we all should pack handguns and kill each other with impunity.
Maybe we should endeavor to become a snitch-free country and kill, kill, kill.
For now, nobody likes a snitch in Anthony’s old neighborhood, so aptly romanticized by the milquetoast gas bags who came up with “The Wire” on HBO. Theirs is a portrait of the Wild West in urban America, of desperados who wear baggy clothes instead of cowboy hats and boots, of pathologies that result in dying young.
Perhaps Anthony felt naked without a “piece,” or just confused by his competing worlds, because you do not backpedal after cold-cocking someone who never saw the punch being delivered.
He is a long way from the streets of Baltimore, and it is doubtful the streets he once knew would want him back in backpedaling mode.
In Knott’s defense, at least he’s able to juggle a secret blogging sideline with the paying gig, which is more than some of us can claim.