The usual people tried to claim responsibility. First the ira , then the plo and the gas board. Even british nuclear fuels rushed out a statement to the effect that the situation was completely under control, that it was a one in a million chance, that there was hardly any radioactive leakage at all, and that the site of the explosion would make a nice location for a day out with the kids and a picnic, before finally having to admit that it wasn't actually anything to do with them at all.
With my sister perched on my arm, i walked to the elevator. a business man with a rolling suitcase was waiting by the doors. his eyes widened as he saw me. i must’ve looked pretty strange—a tall black kid in dirty, ragged egyptian clothes, with a weird box tucked under one arm and a bird of prey perched on the other. how’s it going? i said. i’ll take the stairs. he hurried off.
Very commonly substances are criminalized because they're associated with what's called the dangerous classes, you know, poor people, or working people.... Actually, the peak of marijuana use was as i said, in the seventies, but that was rich kids, so you don't throw them in jail. And then it got seriously criminalized, you know, you really throw people in jail for it, when it was poor people.
Shakespearean words, foreign words, slang and dialect and made-up phrases from kids on the street corner: english has room for them all. And writers - not just literary writers, but popular writers as well - breathe air into english and keep it lively by making it their own, not by adhering to some style manual that gets handed out to college freshmen in a composition class.
When i was a kid i believed everything i was told, everything i read, and every dispatch sent out by my own overheated imagination. this made for more than a few sleepless nights, but it also filled the world i lived in with colors and textures i would not have traded for a lifetime of restful nights.
Then there was nico di angelo. dang, that kid gave leo the freaky-deakies. he sat back in his leather aviator jacket, his black t-shirt and jeans, that wicked silver skull ring on his finger, and the stygian sword at his side. his tufts of black hair struck up in curls like baby bat wings. his eyes were sad and kind of empty, as if he’d stared into the depths of tartarus—which he had.
The kid dead on the ground. fourteen, ash. fourteen. i’m fourteen. – nick yeah… – acheron ash, i’m fourteen. – nick got it. you’re fourteen. i’m so proud you can count that high. it’s a testament to the modern american educational system. but i should probably point out that you’re not the only one. i’m told you go a school with a whole class of – get this – kids who are fourteen. – acheron