Chad Landry

I ran into another friend at Wal-mart.

Sporting the cool-guy trailer-fashion haircut, Chad has an opinion about the Dixie Chicks for speaking out about our drunk-driving President, but feels okay when another country star shoots a tame bear in a pen and reports it as a genuine wildlife kill. He was a drunk ... cause thems your country values folks ... drive until it hurts, and if it hurts somebody else, then that’s just part of the great statistic.

This guy had been lording over my life for a number of years. He was the guy who knows everything about everybody, and knows the cool people and enjoys throwing farks on everybody who thinks he’s their friend.

He was an assistant manager at the paint store for a number of years and I used to sit and talk to him about painting. I didn’t like talking about people, but that was his field of expertise.

They always say there are three measures of intelligence. Highest are the people who talk about ideas, next are the people who talk about things, and lowest are people who talk about people.

But information about people is a currency that can be used to increase one’s stature in society. It’s used to establish who you know. It’s valuable for letting others know that you’re politically important, and whoever owns this information also controls the street.

True power however comes from the people who manage these street gossipers.

Control of society is about winning favor over street gossip. A man can be a total sociopath and corrupt to bone, yet if he charms the street gossip, then he will control society.

I don’t have any street gossip to sell. Therefore I have no political currency. My work on a bicycle was purely about constitutional law. I was demanding equal protection under the law under the most abstract of thinking.

The gossipers don’t know constitutional law. In fact the gossipers are about ending constitutional restraints on their lives because they don't understand it ... but who can argue that they should? This is the people among who I lived; the most conservative haters of liberal thought and constitutional jurisprudence. This is why my haters refused to make a charge in court. This is why my haters chose instead to make a mock of me to the street gossipers.

Chad was a street gossiper. He was also an admitted drunk driver, and bragged to me how he raced around in his dolled-up truck but couldn’t remember how he got home.

Chad was popular ... probably not really sice he could shut his mouth about people.

He also complained in front of several people that I drove too slow on the highway. He said this despite the fact that I pulled a heavy work trailer and had been targeted at least once by the folks who cause wrecks with business vehicles so they can get a big injury pay-off. Yeah, Chad thinks it’s smart to race around in a big truck while he's drunk because he had no responsibility.

Then at the paint store, whenever somebody pulled up, Chad would have some negative thing to say about that person before they walked in. And then when that person entered the store, everybody was looking at them with disdain. So one day I walked in and everybody was looking at me the same way, and I knew Chad was bad-mouthing me in front of people.

I got no charm. I just wanted to get my paint and go. So I took that dam fool Chad to task with the manager who shut him up, at least by outward appearance. But you know people like him keep telling rotten things about people until the end of Earth because that’s their power. That’s their street currency.

Chad walked up to me in Wal-mart that day, but his wife walked the other way even though I had been to their house to give them an estimate. You see, I knew his wife, but this incident was about scorn and so she left it to the big man of the house. And big man Chad made a point of telling me he was going to come over to my house … but how many times had I invited him before? Three times I invited him, but he wouldn’t stoop that low.

He would never be caught dead going to the house of somebody like me who was reviled. But now that the chips were down on me, suddenly he wants to make an appearance? He wanted to gather some information to further throw shit on me to everybody he knew.

Suddenly I saw the guy standing in front of me. Oh I knew what he was long ago, but this was different. That was the day I saw Chad the drug dealer.

That’s exactly what I saw. Clear as day. The man sold drugs, but not a lot … and only to trusted friends … and then I saw more … he was there because he knew policemen … yes that was it … Chad sold drugs to his police friends.

What a fucking laugh. The police send in a drunk driver who sells them drugs.

And folks … that’s the real story in America. The drug dealers own the police and judges ... and don’t you think for a minute that’s not true. When somebody gets busted, it’s only because they stepped on the toes of somebody higher up. Exactly what happened to me.

I saw Chad that day but I didn’t say anything. Honestly, in another time or place I would’ve called him out and his eyes would’ve told me the whole story. He was a fool to stand that close and let me see him. But I was under tremendous pressure emotionally and thought my best course was to take whatever shit they threw at me. So I said nothing.

In response to his wanting to come to my house, I told him to call me three weeks beforehand so I could get the grass cut. I let him think he crapped on me again.