KZ Writes Good
The internet is a huge bathroom wall, and any halfwit with a keyboard and a connection has an opportunity to scrawl on it. Take me, for instance. My name is KZ. For a good time, come find me at Prosaic Shades of Gray.

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Inside Thoughts
December 7, 2010 // 22 Comments -
"Abbott & Costello" Ain't Got Nothing on "Dawn & KZ"
October 8, 2010 // 20 Comments -
Songs for Sale
March 8, 2003 // 17 Comments -
Winning Without Trying
November 3, 2010 // 16 Comments -
Casanova KZ
December 3, 2008 // 13 Comments
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At the Risk of Drawing Attention to Myself...
May 7, 2012 // 2 Comments -
The Answer (Conversation with God Continued)
April 20, 2012 // 2 Comments -
Weapons of Jazz Destruction
March 20, 2012 // 6 Comments -
Good Night, Gentle Dreamers
March 14, 2012 // 3 Comments -
The Conundrum of Human Empathy
March 12, 2012 // 3 Comments
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Since you insist. Killjoy. Grump. God, it f ...
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Two Years Later

One thing that especially moved me on September 11, 2001 was the fact that a good deal of interview footage that aired on television that day went uncensored. I remember staying awake until 3 AM that night, watching the towers collapse from every angle, and hearing what New Yorkers had to say about the attack on their city. There’s one man in particular that will forever stick out in my mind. I can still picture him: glassy brown eyes, black mustache, wrinkles across his forehead, dust and ashes dulling the hue of his dark brown skin, and tears that washed it all away in untidy streams. His voice trembled as he spoke, and he made little effort to disguise his grief. “I can’t believe this shit is happening,” he said. So few had anticipated the attack, and nobody wanted to believe the sad reality.
What I appreciated the most about the footage of that man was that it was part of a prerecorded montage of interviews, which meant that network producers had most likely screened the content before it was broadcasted. And despite the fact that this man had said a four-letter word, the producers let it slide. In light of the tragedy and carnage that the nation witnessed that morning, it seemed that everybody, for at least a single goddamned day, realized what truly matters. Nobody bothered to censor an uttered profanity because the entire day was marred by one of history’s most profane acts of human selfishness and stupidity.
The world is far from perfect, but it does have its moments. Realizing that fact alone almost makes life something worth tolerating. That’s a better start than many of us could have hoped for.





I also recall the fact that the voices screaming "HOLY SHIT" on the home-made footage that was aired also went uncensored.
Great post, Kev.