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LevZadov

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Lev Zadov is not my real name. I expropriated it from a dead man. He wasn’t using it. It wasn’t his real name, anyway. It was his dead name. Dead names aren’t real. In real life he went by Zinkovsky. I’m not particular about my own pronouns. We’re all on the same side of the Class War. "He/him/they" works. I also respond to "yo," "soup’s on," and "freeze motherfucker!" I call other people by whatever pronouns and/or aliases that they say they want to be called by. It’s only polite.

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MikeDunnAuthor , to bookstadon group
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Way back in the 1980s, when I was in college, we had a tent city on the UC Berkeley campus to protest the Apartheid regime in South Africa. Lots of parallels to what's been happening on campuses recently with the Palestinian solidarity protests, including violent police crack downs.

During this time, author Kurt Vonnegut came to speak in support of the movement, and against Apartheid.

I recently found this amusing clip
of Vonnegut explaining the different types of character arcs a story can have.

https://youtu.be/oP3c1h8v2ZQ

@bookstadon

LevZadov ,
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@MikeDunnAuthor @bookstadon

Were you there when the "Shantytown" barricades went up?

LevZadov ,
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@MikeDunnAuthor @bookstadon

What a scene. At one point on the third night I was backing up slowly, fending off a rogue UC cop who had gotten out ahead of his unit. He had a billy club. I had a piece of 2x3. We were dueling as if with swords. I know a bit of bataireacht, so I was using the lumber like a shillelagh. I remember doing a lot of two handed parrying. He apparently didn't know that move or how to work around it.

I was trying to lure him into the shadow where I could switch from defense to offense and not fear photography. People had been throwing bottles. They were all over the ground. I slipped on one and landed flat on my back. I was about to get my head split open with his club. Its swing had already begun. I figured I was a goner. With luck, I'd only wind up in a coma. It was the best I could hope for.

Suddenly, I heard a mighty kiai split the night. It was a tankie woman who'd been flirting with me earlier in the evening before the fighting started. She'd probably been trying to lure me into her cult (RCP). I'd politely brushed her off. She came to my rescue,flying through the air like Bruce Lee in that movie, head high, feet first. I thought she was aiming her feet at his head, but she sailed right past him. As she did, she caught him on the chin with her elbow, or maybe it was her fist. I couldn't tell. Either way, his head snapped around and boom! He was down, and I was up and off and out of there, gone to safer ground, scampering as fast as I could . Scampering is not my long suit (game leg, old hit and run, long story), but I made an extra effort. It seems to have worked.

LevZadov ,
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@MikeDunnAuthor @bookstadon

Thanks, I try.

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