Man bursts into tears. Says "But, doctor... I am Pagliacci."

Good joke. Everybody laugh. Roll on snare drum. Curtains.

Beneath me, this awful city, it screams like an abattoir full of retarded children. New York.

This city is dying of rabies. Is the best I can do to wipe random flecks of foam from its lips?

At midnight, all the agents and superhuman crew, go out and round up everyone who knows more than they do. namekawa

Left Jacobi's house 2:35 a.m. He knows nothing about any attempt to discredit Jon Osterman. He has simply been used.

By whom? Russians seem obvious choice: Jon Osterman and Jeff both key military figures.

But Jeff referred to an island, artists and writers living on it. Doesn't fit. Can't concentrate. Too tired. No sleep since Saturday.

Walked home past trashcans stuffed with rumors of war, weighing factors; bodies; motives -

Waiting for a flash of enlightenment in all this blood and thunder.

@AllStarNick *whispers* "No."

Now one else saw the joke. That's why he was lonely.

dog carcass in alley this morning, tire tread on burst stomach. this city is afraid of me. i have seen its true face.

the streets are extended gutters and the gutters are full of blood and when the drains finally scab over, all the vermin will drown.

the accumulated filth of all their sex and murder will foam up about their waists and all the whores and politicians will look up and shout:

"save us!"... and i'll look down and whisper "no."

they had a choice, all of them. they could have followed in the footsteps of good men like my father or president truman.

instead they followed the droppings of lechers and communists and didn't realize that the trail led over a precipice until it was too late.

now the whole world stands on the brink, staring down into bloody hell, and all those intellectuals and smooth-talkers -

... and all of a sudden, nobody can think of anything to say.