You know, while there was a large farm returning to forest on the fence line of the house I grew up in, and legends of a barn of caged cats and a pack of wild dogs under the control of the old lady that owned the former farm, I cannot say I ever once just ran into some sad-sack alkie living in those woods.

What the hell does that tell me?

My own off the cuff interpretation, predjudicial as it is, is that Indiana is simply a much more violent place than Washington, and that persons like the homeless guy living in the woods near my house at the moment were just murdered, specifically to protect property values.

This is surely incorrect, uncharitable as it is. People in Washington are no less tribal and violent than those in Indiana, despite Indiana’s long heritage of legally sanctioned state violence against minorities. Washington has a heritage that includes Indian wars, Indian massacres, Chinese expulsions, and, of course, Japanese internment camps. I must disabuse myself of the notion that I have escaped the culture of violence of my childhood.