..he is set to self-destruct...

Listening to the Slits circa 1979, but in the new reissue, yay B-sides. Too much fun.

When my dad told me that Wolfgang Droege's shooting apparently was not political in nature and was the result of a romantic entanglement (he was dating the shooter's ex), I was disappointed. "You mean he wasn't assassinated, just murdered. Oh... I guess it doesn't really matter then". As if his death was only important when we thought he was killed for who he was.

I felt a little bit bad, because he was still a person after all and is no less dead, even if he was a horribly misguided person (I have my reservations calling him a "horrible" person, even despite everything he has done).

In something totally unrelated, I ran into Kamran in Queen's Park station tonight and it was disorienting because the last time I new anything of him, he was in Dubai. And now suddenly he's living a block away from me, and I'm distracted even at the thought. Brief chatting, kiss on the cheek. Couldn't have been more than 2 minutes, but it sent shockwaves through my entire evening and later, as I picked up my jaw from the floor and still drooling walked away, I thought "huh".