The Museum

These are pictures I took before I left Queens. There's this window place on the corner of 30th and 45th, across the street from the Pulpit (a very pleasant bar), whose owner is a jingoistic fuckface.

Those are replicas of the World Trade Center towers, in case the picture's a bit hard to make out. As you can see, this proud American wishes to never forget, and also to never forgive. I have no problem with not forgetting - those who forget are doomed to yadda yadda - and I can see where not forgiving may be appealing to some. For instance, maybe his son/daughter/brother/sister/something died in the attacks. I would have a hard time forgiving that, I guess. This alone does not make this man a jingoistic fuckface.

A replica atom bomb that reads 'No Regrets,' falling on two Japanese flags, makes this man a jingoistic fuckface.

Again, that's the window place on the corner of 30th and 45th in Astoria, Queens. I'm not saying the right thing to do here is to throw a brick through his window, but - actually, I am saying that. He's a window repairman, he probably needs to keep his skills sharp. So somebody throw a brick through this asshole's window.