Homeless is where the heartlessness is…that’s what the newspaper reporter said to you as he handed you the camera. He was writing an exposé on the homeless crisis in L.A. and he wanted a “bum’s eye view” so he gave you a camera and $33 to document the war on homelessness right from the front lines. After you drank up the money you got to work tenderly making portraits of your fellow fuck-ups. The reporter put stars in your eyes, suggesting you might even win a Pulitzer for your guerrilla photography. You didn’t know what monkeys had to do with it but you snapped away, carving beauty from mounds of shit. You sat down to take a rest. A man emerged from the shadows. He declared, “I am Fanto and you gotta go!” Fanto’s fists clobbered your face and genitalia, mostly your genitals. You whimpered as he photographed your bloodied bod with your very own camera, which Fanto dutifully smashed before he took off into the night in search of another easy target.