By all accounts I am something of a freak. I am the proverbial introvert, but endlessly curious, and fascinated by history. As such, when I did begin to discover the wonders of DC, buried and hidden deep beneath the swamp so bloated from its occupation by the current cackle of complicit and corrupt congress critters and their ilk, that I was somewhat taken aback.
The Smithsonian is great, but there is so much hidden from the general public … far more than will ever be displayed, that to say it is lacking would be a gross understatement and overly kind. In fairness, I do not think that they could fully undertake the role that they have made for themselves, even if they were not hiding so much from the American Public, but there is another institution that is equally as revealing … perhaps even more so, in regards to American history and its people … though you have to read extensively to understand the depth of the material there.
I am referring to the Library of Congress.
I would say that the Library of Congress is in an exceptionally bad neighborhood, but then again, it seems to me personally that most of the cesspool that these swamp critters inhabit is a bad neighborhood … though you may want to take note of the fact that I am referring to our illustrious and dear leaders, and not speaking poorly about the people themselves who happen to live in the District of Corruption.
Even back in those days it was necessary for me to ensure that all of the firearms, ammunition and even empty shell casings were carefully removed from my vehicle and that I did not inadvertently carry anything even resembling any of these items into the national capital.
I was almost certain to get pulled over by the cops, especially if I was leaving at what they deemed to be an unreasonably late hour, and once I opened my mouth and they heard my heavy southern accent, they automatically assumed that I had to be up to no good … which judging by the neighborhood probably meant they just assumed that I was out looking for hookers.
Suffice it to say, getting pulled over and searched was a fairly regular occurrence, though I would like to think in an area that small they would eventually get to know me and my car … though they never did.
There were an excess of hookers in the neighborhood, though this had never been my intention … and I certainly would not have needed to travel to DC had that ever been the focus of my search … much less wanted to or being willing to travel to that hole.
Besides, if I do not miss the mark too wide, most of the real prostitution in the District of Corruption occurs in the “hallowed” halls of Congress and the house.
If there are any redeeming qualities at all to our District of Corruption, the only ones I can think of are stored away in the basements and other inaccessible areas of the Smithsonian and within the treasure trove that is the Library of Congress.
My grandfather was a historian of more than just passing merit and worth, and he instilled in me a love for the written word and for the makings of our great and proud nation. As such, when I was not otherwise preoccupied during my days off, I ended up, not infrequently in the capital to visit the Library of Congress.
While I was used to seeing hookers, and used to getting pulled over, virtually each and every time that I would visit the library, especially when I was leaving and heading back home, I was really surprised on one particular evening.
Seeing the hookers had been no real surprise, and getting pulled over by overzealous police was almost a foregone conclusion on any trip, but it had never happened in quite this way before.
All of the hookers were lined up in two rows right smack dab in the middle of the street. It looked for all the world like they were getting ready for a Prostitute Parade.
The cops had dutifully blocked off virtually all of the side streets and I had made almost a complete block in forward progress before being pulled over.
Well, as usual, the cop casually dismissed my claim that I was leaving the Library of Congress, but since he was unable to find anything illegal in my car, gave me his allowance … his permission to leave … after a stern lecture of course, and a warning that he would catch me in “the act” next time … how kind of him.
I read in the newspaper the next day how there had been a great big roundup of all of the hookers in the District of Corruption … despite the unlikelihood of this statement being wholly accurate in any sense of the imagination, much less reality.
Furthermore, a great many of their “johns” or customers had been outright arrested. Oddly enough, they never did arrest any of the hookers … rather, they marched them directly across the fourteenth street bridge … except that the only thing right across the fourteenth street bridge from that direction, was the Pentagon.
It would have been much more appropriate had they just marched them into the “hallowed halls” of the Congressional Houses, at least then they would have been in familiar territories and surrounded by their peers … even if their peers were not used to such direct competition.
Let us know what you think please!