| GREG-STRANGE.COM |
"If you haven't found something strange during the
day, it hasn't been much of a day." -- John A. Wheeler
day, it hasn't been much of a day." -- John A. Wheeler
PROVIDING SUBSTANTIVE COMMENTARY ON THE
PEOPLE, POLITICS, EVENTS AND ABSURDITIES OF
OUR TIME. SERVED UP WITH ACERBIC WIT, YOU
SHOULD FIND IT QUITE SATISFYING.
PEOPLE, POLITICS, EVENTS AND ABSURDITIES OF
OUR TIME. SERVED UP WITH ACERBIC WIT, YOU
SHOULD FIND IT QUITE SATISFYING.
I've Got A Tiger In My Tenement
"I am trying to create a Garden of Eden, something this
world lacks." --- Antoine Yates, the now infamous New York
City resident who was found to be raising an assortment of wild
animals in his Harlem apartment.
Ordinarily, when it is discovered that a tenant in a New York
City public housing project has been keeping a 5 1/2-foot
alligator in his living quarters for several years without anyone
in a position of authority finding out, it seems like a pretty big
deal and most people will laugh and marvel and say things like,
"How could such an outlandish thing possibly happen?"
That's ordinarily. But when it's discovered that the same
tenant was also keeping a 425-pound Bengal-Siberian tiger in
his apartment . . . Forget about the piddling alligator. Here's
something to really marvel about.
This is a tailor-made story for the New York City tabloids
which prefer headlines like "DERANGED ANIMAL KEEPER
MAULED BY TIGER IN HARLEM APARTMENT" than, say,
"PRESIDENT BUSH SIGNS FARM BILL." That's because New
York City readers have little interest in agriculture--unless it
comes with a headline like "MUTANT CORNSTALK
STRANGLES ELDERLY GARDENER IN WEEHAWKEN."
At any rate, Antoine Yates, 31 (or 37, depending on which
New York City daily you believe), was finally found out by
authorities after he was mauled by Ming, his tiger, when he
tried to prevent the beast from attacking, of all things, a tiny
kitty cat. Yates suffered no serious injuries, but those halcyon
days of tending wild animals and trying to create a makeshift
Garden of Eden at the Drew Hamilton Houses on Adam Clayton
Powell, Jr. Blvd. in Harlem have come to an abrupt end.
According to neighbors, Yates' love of exotic animals fell
into the realm of obsession and over the years he also kept in
his subsidized public housing apartment reptiles, monkeys and
even a hyena. And possibly a lion, which police have reason to
believe may possibly be alive somewhere in Brooklyn even as we
speak. A lion on the lam in Brooklyn. You gotta love New York!
Now, just to be clear on the New York City Housing
Authority's official policy on pets in public housing projects,
only one pet is allowed in any apartment and it must weigh no
more than 40 pounds. In other words, nothing larger than, say,
a medium-sized dog. So, as an example, an average-sized
standard poodle would exceed the weight limit for pets.
Therefore, rationality would dictate that large carnivorous
animals normally seen only in zoos or on big game safaris
would also be forbidden.
Look, we all know that New York City is a gigantic, chaotic
metropolis and that within its congested and teeming confines,
almost anything the human mind can conceive of could
actually happen. So when you first heard about this Antoine
Yates, an extreme animal lover living in public housing in
which he raised a series of exotic wild beasts, and whose
apartment was big enough that he could even provide them
with their own private bedrooms, you probably didn't dismiss it
out of hand.
But you were certainly incredulous and wanted to know how
he got away with it for so long. Well, let's just say that the New
York City Housing Authority is not the most splendid argument
you could come up with in favor of cumbersome, labyrinthine
bureaucracy. Not being able to get rid of tenement rats is one
thing, but tenement tigers?
And it's not as if there weren't clues that someone in that
improvident agency could have picked up on which might have
spurred someone to say, "You know, maybe we ought to drop in
on Mr. Antoine Yates and find out just what in the heck is going
on in that apartment of his that we, after all, are subsidizing."
Clues such as the fact that he hadn't paid any rent since
January. Clues such as the scores of neighbors who knew about
both the tiger and the general zaniness that was everyday life in
Yates' fifth floor apartment. Clues such as the downstairs
neighbor who complained repeatedly about tiger urine leaking
from upstairs, but whom apparently wasn't quite taken
seriously.
If there is a lesson in all of this, it is that . . . well, that New
York City public housing is one big de facto asylum that is
basically being run by its inmates. Let's hope the terrorists
don't get hip to the situation and start moving in. If years of
zoo-keeping can go on right under the Housing Authority's
nose, what would prevent quiet, clandestine plotting of terror?
They could hatch evil, destructive plots out of there for years to
come--as long as one of their camels didn't attack anyone.
"I am trying to create a Garden of Eden, something this
world lacks." --- Antoine Yates, the now infamous New York
City resident who was found to be raising an assortment of wild
animals in his Harlem apartment.
Ordinarily, when it is discovered that a tenant in a New York
City public housing project has been keeping a 5 1/2-foot
alligator in his living quarters for several years without anyone
in a position of authority finding out, it seems like a pretty big
deal and most people will laugh and marvel and say things like,
"How could such an outlandish thing possibly happen?"
That's ordinarily. But when it's discovered that the same
tenant was also keeping a 425-pound Bengal-Siberian tiger in
his apartment . . . Forget about the piddling alligator. Here's
something to really marvel about.
This is a tailor-made story for the New York City tabloids
which prefer headlines like "DERANGED ANIMAL KEEPER
MAULED BY TIGER IN HARLEM APARTMENT" than, say,
"PRESIDENT BUSH SIGNS FARM BILL." That's because New
York City readers have little interest in agriculture--unless it
comes with a headline like "MUTANT CORNSTALK
STRANGLES ELDERLY GARDENER IN WEEHAWKEN."
At any rate, Antoine Yates, 31 (or 37, depending on which
New York City daily you believe), was finally found out by
authorities after he was mauled by Ming, his tiger, when he
tried to prevent the beast from attacking, of all things, a tiny
kitty cat. Yates suffered no serious injuries, but those halcyon
days of tending wild animals and trying to create a makeshift
Garden of Eden at the Drew Hamilton Houses on Adam Clayton
Powell, Jr. Blvd. in Harlem have come to an abrupt end.
According to neighbors, Yates' love of exotic animals fell
into the realm of obsession and over the years he also kept in
his subsidized public housing apartment reptiles, monkeys and
even a hyena. And possibly a lion, which police have reason to
believe may possibly be alive somewhere in Brooklyn even as we
speak. A lion on the lam in Brooklyn. You gotta love New York!
Now, just to be clear on the New York City Housing
Authority's official policy on pets in public housing projects,
only one pet is allowed in any apartment and it must weigh no
more than 40 pounds. In other words, nothing larger than, say,
a medium-sized dog. So, as an example, an average-sized
standard poodle would exceed the weight limit for pets.
Therefore, rationality would dictate that large carnivorous
animals normally seen only in zoos or on big game safaris
would also be forbidden.
Look, we all know that New York City is a gigantic, chaotic
metropolis and that within its congested and teeming confines,
almost anything the human mind can conceive of could
actually happen. So when you first heard about this Antoine
Yates, an extreme animal lover living in public housing in
which he raised a series of exotic wild beasts, and whose
apartment was big enough that he could even provide them
with their own private bedrooms, you probably didn't dismiss it
out of hand.
But you were certainly incredulous and wanted to know how
he got away with it for so long. Well, let's just say that the New
York City Housing Authority is not the most splendid argument
you could come up with in favor of cumbersome, labyrinthine
bureaucracy. Not being able to get rid of tenement rats is one
thing, but tenement tigers?
And it's not as if there weren't clues that someone in that
improvident agency could have picked up on which might have
spurred someone to say, "You know, maybe we ought to drop in
on Mr. Antoine Yates and find out just what in the heck is going
on in that apartment of his that we, after all, are subsidizing."
Clues such as the fact that he hadn't paid any rent since
January. Clues such as the scores of neighbors who knew about
both the tiger and the general zaniness that was everyday life in
Yates' fifth floor apartment. Clues such as the downstairs
neighbor who complained repeatedly about tiger urine leaking
from upstairs, but whom apparently wasn't quite taken
seriously.
If there is a lesson in all of this, it is that . . . well, that New
York City public housing is one big de facto asylum that is
basically being run by its inmates. Let's hope the terrorists
don't get hip to the situation and start moving in. If years of
zoo-keeping can go on right under the Housing Authority's
nose, what would prevent quiet, clandestine plotting of terror?
They could hatch evil, destructive plots out of there for years to
come--as long as one of their camels didn't attack anyone.