Given the proper frame of mind and a platform to shout from, you can transform a violent, parasitic, mentally ill homeless paranoiac into a kind of
wandering philosopher king.
The subject of this particular bit of hagiography was a local "personality" who I've had the pleasure of kicking out of my store after he flipped off my wife on the street.
In fact, my brother-in-law kicked him out of HIS place of employment after Gibson let it be known to mutual acquaintances he was going to "kick his ass" (that bold talk went out the window when he was confronted, and he fled down the street like a whipped cur).
And then there was the time another friend not only kicked him out of his store, but was forced confronted him in the street outside with a baseball bat because Gibson threatened to "kill him" over the phone.
That particular scene ended with Gibson on his knees in the street, crying and begging for forgiveness...coward to the end.
Going further back, he repaid the kindness of the slight, effeminate male hairdresser who let him live in his apartment for a while by beating him unconscious.
He stalked three women (that I know of).
He abandoned the dog Piglet, which gets such play in the article, several years ago. Piglet ended up living with
another friend of mine.
My eulogy for Gibson wouldn't fill up the column inches quite so well, but it has the twin advantages of being both succinct and far more accurate than the New Times flavor:
Good Riddance, scumbag.
